#is just more confused every time he sees a coffee cup on his desk

[vani-ash]

I actually have semi fleshed out (kimchay) AUs for like most of Jeff's MV but none of them are finished and I hate(not actually i love talking about them) talking about my wip before they're finished cause it makes me work on them less cause I'm like

I talked about it = I worked on it :)

and then I never continue writing then 😔

Anyway here is a couple of them:

Dum Dum - (currently 12k written)

KimChay are walking home one night accidentally walk into an alleyway where they see a group of gang members killing someone, Kim tries to help Chay escape but ends up knocked on conscious and Chay is taken back to their leader. Chay believes Kim died in the alleyway.

A year passes with Chay now living as the mafia bosses husband. Chays mind is broken and believes the mafia boss is Kim due to him living in delusions to deal with the trauma. One day someone plants a bomb in the mansion and breaks in. Sunshine is tattooed on their neck and Chay thinks its a mercenary sent to kill him. He insists his name is Kim, but Chay doesn't believe him. His Kim didn't have tattoos or white hair.

Lucid- (currently 6k written)

Chay lives by himself and tends to a large garden. one day he finds a man passed out in his garden. Chay takes him back to his home and takes care of him. When the man wakes up he is startled and scared of Chay and jumps out of Chays window.

A week later the man comes back. They grow close and Chay eventually learns the mans name, and that he is a fae. As they grow closer Chay starts to feel sick and he keeps forgetting things. One day he forgets Kim.

Another fae curses Chay to forget Kim every time they part cause they’re jealous Kim doesn’t want them (the curse also causes Chay to be in pain whenever they’re together it takes Kim a while to figure this out which is why he keeps coming back, he just thinks Chay’s sick) but you know Chay is Chay so he’s so excited to meet a fae and talk and help him etc. but eventually Kim figures out how to break the curse: he has to die.

(not MCD has happy ending)

Loop - (currently 4k written)

Kim is forced to work at his family's company but he hates it and is intentionally being bad at his job. When he gets paired up with one of the company's best employees to make him better, Kim starts to fall for Chay. Kim does star actually learned how to do his job but Kim continues to be bad at his job so Chay will have to help him more.

One day Kim overhears his father saying if Chay doesn't get Kim to start working better he will be fired. So Kim starts to actually do his job. And when he is finally doing well, Chay is forced to quit anyway cause Korn doesn't like Kim is in love with a random employee.

[luveline]

What about a lil fic of the first time bombshell reader gets mad at Spencer? Like it can be while they r dating or before and May be r is giving Spencer quiet treatment?

ty for requesting! ♡ fem, 1.3k

Spencer waits for Morgan to get up for a coffee before he gets up himself, tailing his teasing teammate to the microwave. He's hoping Morgan's in a sympathetic mood today, because Spencer is in dire need of some sympathy. 

"Loverboy," Morgan says, his voice steeped in suspicion. "Can I help you with something?"

"Do you know why Y/N's upset?" 

"You don't? You're the expert." 

Spencer rubs at his nose, the beginning of another migraine brewing between his eyes. The gesture draws a little more empathy than his misguided question. 

"You're gonna have to ask her yourself. I don't want her angry at me too, she's gonna fix my computer before Garcia finds out I fell for her phishing email test." 

"I've been asking her. It's making it worse. She won't answer my questions anymore. She just hums." 

"Silent treatment. Yikes." Morgan sips his tea through a grimace. "I mean, you must've done something bad. She's usually so–" 

"Lovely?" 

"–in love with you." Morgan laughs as he wanders off in the direction of the stairs up to Hotch's office. "Same thing."

Spencer decides to make a cup of bribery tea for you. He microwaves a mug of hot water and plunks a bag of your favourite blend in without ceremony, bobbing it up and down as he watches you from over his shoulder. You've moved desks upon request to sit with the rest of the team and opposite Spencer (against Hotch's self-proclaimed better judgement), your things set carefully in contrast to his books, a library's worth teeming on every spare inch. Some have even made their way onto your desk, pristinely stacked in wait of his perusal. It's one small gesture among the hundreds of kind things you do for him. 

"Here," he says, setting the mug down next to your mouse carefully. 

Your anger strikes him. Eyes frosted with an uneasiness he's not partial to, lips, so perfectly painted, screwed into a frown. It's not nice seeing someone he cares about upset with him, worse when he has no idea what it is he's done. 

"You're annoyed at me," he says. You wait for him to continue. "I don't know what I did." 

"That makes it worse." You frown at him. After a few seconds of this—your frowning, his looking sorry and confused— you sigh wretchedly (as in, he's never heard you sound that sad, ever, and he hates it). "Spencer, you stood me up." 

Everything in him goes cold. "No I didn't." 

Your sad frown melds again to anger. "Yes you did! I– I got my hair done at a salon, I bought a new dress, I bragged to all of my friends that my cute coworker was gonna be my date, and none of that mattered because you didn't text me back so I was worried sick all night that you were," —your voice drops to a private whisper— "in trouble somewhere, and then you come into work like nothing happened? Not even a hint of an apology? I thought you wanted to come."  

Your voice burns with embarrassment. Spencer can feel it in his throat, that plucky ache of someone letting you down. 

"That was last night?" he asks quietly. A friend asked you to their charity ball, not as ridiculously fancy as it sounds but an occasion of esteem and important to you nonetheless. "Y/N, I thought that was– I have it in my phone as next month. As November. I'm so sorry." 

"Why didn't you answer my texts?" 

He winces. "I had a migraine… Screens make it worse, and I haven't charged the battery yet because I was coming to work anyways I'm sorry, Y/N, really. I mixed it up. I should've asked you." 

You seem less disheartened at his admission. You cross your arms over your abdomen and lean back a touch in your chair, as if deciding whether he's being truthful. Spencer isn't in the habit of lying to you and anybody could tell you that, so after a few seconds you look away. "I asked you if you were excited yesterday morning. I told you my dress came."  

"I know." He can't believe he's gotten it wrong like this. Anyone can make a mistake, but he imagines you in your new dress with your hair done waiting for him in the cold weather that descended on Virginia last night and his guts twist into a knot. "I didn't piece it together. I didn't… I didn't…" 

Spencer can't remember the last time he let someone he loves down like this. His migraine spikes again like a needle in the eye, fiery agony that has him closing his eyes to cope. 

"Spencer," you say, softly admonishing. "Hey, it's okay." Your chair creaks.

"I'm so sorry," he says through his teeth. 

"I thought you were being a jerk, but I guess I should've known you wouldn't do something like that." You stand up and take his elbow into a very gentle hand. "I'm sorry for giving you the cold shoulder. It was childish. I was just hurt thinking you did it on purpose." 

"Sorry," he says again. "Migraine." 

Your hand rises to his cheek. "Yeah? Sit down, Spence. Take a breather." 

The doctors say that Spencer's migraines are psychosomatic. He doesn't get how something so odious can start from nothing. 

You seem twice as upset but in a different light, ushering him down into your chair. "Don't worry," you say softly, your hand falling into his hair, "I took a great picture. You can still see me in my nice dress." 

You're kidding but he's genuinely glad. Then the pain takes over and he can't see the other side of it for years. 

It only feels like years. 

When he can open his eyes, you've knelt by his chair. He hates to see you getting your pants dirty like that, hates worse that your eyebrows have pinched and the soft plane of your forehead has etched deep with concern. 

"You can still be mad at me," he says under his breath. 

"I'm a little upset," you confess, putting an uncharacteristically tentative hand on his knee. "It sucked, but not as much as this seems to suck for you." You're like an angel, all pretty and wide-eyed at his feet, your hand beginning a short path up his leg, a soft back and forth. "I'm sorry Spencer. I was punishing you for something that wasn't your fault." 

"You didn't know. How could you, I–" He winces as another wave of pain flares behind his eye, blurring your small smile. "I should've charged my phone." 

"Maybe. I can't imagine you had the capacity, Spence. Not if you're like this." 

"Don't just forgive me because I'm in pain." 

"I'm not, I'm forgiving you because even though it really hurt my feelings turning up alone, I'm not cruel enough to blame you now." You squeeze his knee. It's an instant balm, the chronic ache behind his eyes easing ever so slightly. Your forgiveness makes the rest bearable. "Can you forgive me for being so heartless?" you ask lightly. 

Your lips curve demurely around each word. Spencer scrambles to cover your hand with both of his, his neck craned forward. "Of course I forgive you." 

"Thank you." Spencer could collapse. "Drink some of this tea, okay? Maybe drinking something will help."  

Nothing ever helps, but he does it because it's your hands bringing the cup to his lips. 

"I know you looked beautiful," he says between sips. 

"I would've looked better on your arm. Too bad you're getting grievously attacked by your own brain. This is what happens when it gets too big, babe, it's trying to come out of your ears." He's a little sorry to have won you back this way, but mostly so, so relieved. "Anymore of this'll and you'll start messing up the months. Oh, wait!" You laugh as he laughs but soon scramble to apologise when the sound makes his head hurt. "Sorry, I'm sorry! Drink some more tea, sweetheart." 

[golden1u5t]

mirrorball | s.r x fem!reader

ꨄ requested: anonymous

ꨄ genre: fluff

ꨄ summary: spencer notices how you put other people before you all the time so he decides to do something special for just you.

"oh- um- here, elle. you can have it." you lowered the mug from your face, passing it to her with a fake smile on your face. you had fixed the last tea bag in the office's kitchen and just as you brung it to your face elle walked in talking about making her a cup of tea, only to see that there was no more. so, like you always do, you offered your cup to her.

"are you sure?" she looked down at the mug and then back at you, biting down on her lip. you shrugged your shoulders and nodded your head, handing the mug to her. "thank you! i owe you!"

elle turned around and walked out of the room, you watched her leave with a smile on your face until you couldn't see her anymore. you sighed and turned around, thinking about how you told yourself that you would stop putting other people before you. it's so hard though, especially when you can't stand the thought of making someone upset.

spencer walked into the kitchen just a few minutes later, immediately noticing the way your shoulders slumped. he glanced over at you as he reached into the cabinet to grab the coffee so he could fix a fresh pot.

"did you get your cup of tea?" he asked as he poured coffee into the filters, putting it into the coffee maker. once he got the maker started, he turned and faced you completely. you glanced up and put a smile on your face as you shook your head.

"no, elle came in wanting some tea but i had already used the last bag so i gave her mine." you shrugged your shoulders and looked down at your hands, you started to pick at the skin around your nails. "it's no problem really."

spencer looks down at you picking at your nails, he wants to reach down and grab your hands to stop you but he decides against. even though he's liked you ever since you stepped foot in the office, he's too shy to make a move. you spare him one last glance before walking out of the kitchen.

+++

spencer get's to work before you, before anyone really, and usually he takes the time to get a head start on his reports but this time is different.

before he went home the day before he stopped by the store to grab you some of your favorite things. pens and a new notepad so that you can doodle when you're bored, two boxes of your favorite tea so that you don't have to share with everyone else for a while, a bag of lollipops to refill the container you emptied by giving everyone else them, and some other things you've mentioned that you liked.

he had everything set up perfectly for when you finally walked into the office, your morning cup of tea in your hands and a smile on your face(which he knew was fake most of the time).

you noticed the basket on your desk and an expression of confusion spread across your face. you set your cup down and looked through the basket, a real smile shining through when you saw all your favorite things.

"did anyone see who left this?" you looked around but everyone just shrugged their shoulders and went back to whatever they were doing. though, you did notice how quickly spencer turned around and how red his face was, you walked over to his desk. "thank you, spence. i- i wasn't expecting it."

"it's no problem, re-really." he refused to look into your eyes but you could see how he got redder every second you stood there. you bit down on your bottom lip and turned on your heels, only getting halfway to your desk before spencer called your name. "would you want- could we- i would like to take you out... on a date. only if you want, of course."

you turned around, barely processing the words that were coming out of his mouth. you never expected spencer reid would be asking you out, in a room full of people nonetheless.

"i would love to."

[seospicybin]

PROFESSIONAL COURTESY.

PART I

Felix x reader. (s,a)

Chapters: Prologue

Synopsis: Discovering that his new boss is someone he had one night stand with, Felix struggles to separate work life and personal business. And at times, finding himself mixing those two as he works under your dominance. (18,4k words)

Author's note: I had so much fun crafting the smut for this fic so please enjoy responsibly!

On that particular day, Felix wakes up feeling like a fucking champion, even the gloom of Monday morning doesn't faze him, not for a little bit.

He rides his bike to work, getting his usual cup of coffee first at the coffee shop downstairs before waiting for the elevator with the other employees in the building.

Remembering that he still has no one to report his duty to, Felix takes it easy, enjoying his coffee while waiting for the next elevator to arrive since the previous one is packed with people.

He knows he'll be late clocking in to work but the office is empty when he gets there. He looks around, looking for any clues as to where everyone is going and on the way to the meeting too, he bumps into one of the guys from the PR.

"Where is everyone?" He asks, scratching his head in confusion.

"The auditorium," he shortly answers while half jogging his way to the elevator.

Unconsciously, Felix follows him while tightly holding his coffee from spilling, "Why?"

He turns his head at him and gives him a judging gaze, "You didn't get the email?"

Almost a month working without a boss and Felix is already forgot how to do his job, even something as basic as checking his emails. He wouldn't be surprised if they decide to fire him.

"Uh... I think so," Felix stammers.

"The new Editor in Chief comes today," he informs, rushing go get into the elevator.

It hits him that it means he's getting a new boss and there's no more slacking around the office, he soon needs to check his work emails every damn second.

"Are you coming or...?" His colleague asks, holding the elevator door open for him.

Felix swallows air and nods, "Yes."

Even though there's a chance that he'd get fired today, Felix surprisingly doesn't feel worry at all.

-

Is it time to be worried? He knows he should come into your office and introduce himself but all Felix does is looking at you through the glass wall from his desk.

It's going to be awkward coming in there and tells you that the guy you had sex with a couple days ago is your assistant. But he can't keep avoiding it, it's either now or he can pack his stuff and finds another jobs.

Funny thing is he's not worried for himself, he worries about how you'd react to him and finding out that he's working for you.

What if you decided you don't want to work with someone you slept with? Worst thing is what if he got fired because of that sole reason?

Felix grits his teeth and just go for it, fixing his appearance on the reflection while hoping that you're not that petty of a person, firing him just because he has seen you naked, and more.

He checks through the glass window, seeing you standing behind your desk with one hand propped against it and the other hand is holding a file you're reading.

He draws a long, deep breath before walking up to the door of your office and knock on it. It's a scene he is once familiar with but it offers him a different kind of rush.

"Come in," you say without taking your eyes off the file you're reading.

He draws another long breath before turning the door handle and pushes the door inward, he has a courteous sets on his face when he walks in.

With the lacks of preparation, Felix ends up just standing in the middle of your office, blanking out. He has not yet decided how to act around you but certainly, he has to keep things professional.

For the first time, you lower the file you're holding just enough for your eyes to be able to look at him, "Yes?

Hearing your voice makes him nervous but there's this exhilarating feeling as well, like recognizing an old song that he hasn't listened in a long time.

"I'd like to personally welcome you and congratulate you as our new Editor in Chief," he starts, surprised himself with his own eloquence.

He notices that one of your eyebrows raised and you stop reading the file to put all of your attention on him.

"Thank you," you elegantly mutter.

"I'd also like to introduce myself. I'm Felix Lee and I am your... assistant," he says, couldn't believe himself for saying that.

You put down your file this time and look at him without anything blocking your sight.

"Pleased to make your acquaintance," you say, pausing for a moment before ending the sentence by addressing his name, "Felix."

When he thought it only happens in movie, Felix is experiencing a coincidental thing like this in his life and it feels even more real after you called his name.

"You're working here," he blurts out, coming from deep within his consciousness.

You give him a perplexed look, "Yes."

"And you are my boss," he innocently remarks, not realizing that he's addressing the situation personally.

"Yes," you firmly answer.

"In other words, I work... under you," he makes another personal remark, along with a sly smile that forms on his small, angular face.

You slightly tilt yout head to the side and calmly answer, "Yes."

Instead of feeling nervous or scared, Felix feels excited that his smile grows wider on his face.

"I love my job," he mutters to himself. He doesn't mean for you to hear it but you seem to catch him talking.

"Sorry, I didn't catch that," you say with an intense gaze aimed toward him.

Felix quickly gets a hold of himself and tells himself to wrap it up before he keeps making a fool out of himself. He quickly thinks of something to say to you.

"I said if you need anything, just call me," he manages to say without stammering.

"Will do," you shortly reply.

Before it gets too awkward than it already is, Felix takes a step back and awkwardly heads for the door. As he walks back to his head, he's rethinking of all the things he said to you inside.

"I work under you?" He quotes himself, couldn't believe that those words are coming out of his own mouth.

He crashes himself onto his seat and reclines, he runs his hands through his hair, feeling embarrassed for himself. Suddenly, the thought of getting fired seems like a lot better option for him.

"What a way to make a great first impression!" He scolds himself as he starts busying himself with work.

But is it called first impression when it's the second time he met you?

-

Two weeks later, Felix has a second thought. He doesn't love his job like he thought he would.

It's Friday night and he's still stuck in the office with you after countless hours of meeting. Now, he's on the way to the lobby to get both of your late dinner he ordered an hour ago.

His phone rings the second he exits the elevator, he picks it up while waving his hand to the food courier who has been waiting for him by the reception desk.

"Where are you, man? We've been waiting for you!" His friend says through the phone, skipping on greeting him first.

It's ironic that he used to wait for any chance to go out with his friends, and now, he completely forgot that he has a life outside of work. He's been busy working that having a time for himself is a luxury these days.

"I can't. I'm still at work," he answers while taking the bag of food from the courier.

"Dude, it's—" his friend pauses for a second, "It's past ten. Why are you still at work?"

"Tell me about it!" He groans into the phone, pushing the button to get the elevator with his elbow since his arms are busy holding things.

"Unless you're working at a strip club, I don't see why you need to be there that late," his friend delivers a valid point.

The first rule on assistant 101 is that the assistant can't leave before the boss so unless you tell him to go home, he's chained to his desk. But it's too much to explain to his friend, he wouldn't understand anyway.

"I have to skip tonight," he sighs into the phone, resting his back against the wall while waiting for the elevator to arrive.

"Let's meet sometime this weekend though," he quickly comes up with a solution.

He can hear his friend's sigh of disappointment but no one is more disappointed than him, he wants to go out tonight and have fun, but he simply can't.

"Yeah, okay, see you," his friend says with another sigh.

"Okay," Felix says back, standing on his feet as the elevator dings open.

"Take care, man," his friend hangs up first.

Felix shoves his phone into the pocket of his jeans and then lets out a long sigh in the empty elevator that takes him back to the 8th floor while holding the bag of food close to his chest.

The office is dark because everyone else is already left and living their lives, unlike him. In his defense, he has a reason why he's still here but you, he wonders if you have a life outside of work.

These past two weeks, he's been watching you working non-stop. The first one to arrive but the last one to leave, and he doesn't know anything else about your life in those long work hours, except that you dedicate yourself to your work.

With the way you landed this job through connection, he understands that maybe you're trying to prove that you're not just filling the empty seat in the company.

It's actually kind of sad that people don't see how you've been handling everything after the company gotten hit with so many scandals and slowly helping the company back on its feet again.

He admires you for that but everyone knows that the Rome isn't built in a day and only God knows how long it takes to change people's perception about you.

Felix heads straight to the pantry to prepare the dinner for you, taking out the food, making them look presentable before taking it on a tray for you.

As he's about to enter your office, you come out carrying your bag in one hand and your blazer on the other. You stop on your track once you notice him lingering on the side of the doorway.

"Don't forget to book flights for tomorrow," you tell him, slipping your hand into your blazer as you speak.

He doesn't remember you're telling him to

"Excuse me, what?" He asks, not remembering that you told him to book flights earlier.

You turn to look at him, "It's in the email."

"What email?" He asks in confusion.

"The email I just sent you," you innocently answer like you did not just hear what you just said.

How did he knows about the email you just sent him a while ago? How can he check his emails when he's busy preparing dinner for you? But he realizes that your subordinate, all he does is obey your words.

He looks down at the food he set for you on a tray, "Then what about dinner?"

You give him a confounded look and swing your bag to the other hand, "What dinner?" You innocently ask like you didn't demand it an hour ago.

And you as his superior, you're always right, it's him who's doing his job wrong.

"Just get it done," you say to him, then turn to leave while Felix is standing there still holding a tray of food you didn't remember telling him to order.

He decides to bring it with him to his desk, checking his emails while filling his mouth with your forgotten dinner. He clicks on the email from you, skimming through most of the content and goes to the important part of it.

You mentioned about booking flights for you but not the part where he is also has to book flights for himself because he's coming with you.

It seems like he can't have fun this weekend too.

-

14 hours later, Felix lands in a different city, sleep-deprived and mentally exhausted. The invitation come with compliments to a 5-star hotel and it's such a shame that he'll probably don't have time to enjoy the over-the-top hotel facilities.

He generously tips the luggage porter because you brought a lot for a two days stay and makes sure everything is carefully placed in your room.

"Thank you," he mutters to the porter before closing the door.

He walks further into the suite, seeing you standing by the window while looking out at the view of the city.

"Do you want me to move the luggage to your bedroom?" He asks.

You slowly turn on your feet to look at him, "No, it's fine," you answer while unbuttoning your blazer.

"Is there anything I can help you with?"

You fold your blazer and place it on the headrest of the sofa, then takes a seat in the middle, "I want to have dinner before the match. Make a reservation in one of the restaurants in the hotel," you order.

Felix types it fast on his phone instead of using notebook, he never knows how many things you want him to do.

"There's French one. I prefer that," you quickly add, your hand reaches for your foot to take off your shoes one by one.

"French food. Got it," he types faster on his phone, then looks up at you, "Anything else?"

You lean on your seat and sitting there looking at him, "I'm going to rest the whole afternoon and you can come back here at 7 pm sharp."

"7 pm sharp," he repeats to himself.

"I don't like to be disturbed so don't come knocking unless it's urgent," you warn him.

He swallows air and types those words in big, red fonts, "Yes, ma'am."

You give him another look and draw a breathe, "You are dismissed."

Felix collects his duffel bag and not forgetting the 'Do no disturb' sign on the door handle before leaving your suite. He can't believe that he has five hours for himself, four precious hours. He goes to his room, makes a reservation at the French restaurant you wanted and sets alarm for 6.40 pm, not risking coming late to pick you up.

-

It only takes five minutes to get to your suite and he knows he's early but it's better than to be late.

You open the door after his third knock, already dressed in a black dress with a square neck with your hair styled in pretty waves, making him feel undressed in his dark slacks and white fitted shirt.

You keep the door open then walk back inside, you don't say anything but he knows you want him to follow you.

"Do you know who's covering the match?" You ask as you rummage through your bag for some.

Felix fumbles to check his phone, aggressively scrolling through the mails to find the one he's looking for.

"It's Drew and Alma," he answers, feeling satisfied in finding the names fast.

You take a necklace out of a box, walking over to the round mirror hangs on the wall to put it on, "Help me, will you?"

He shoves his phone into his slacks pocket and walks over to you, taking the necklace from your hand to do what you asked him to. You turn around to face the mirror as he carefully places the necklace around your neck, securely clasps it together and when he turns his head, your eyes meet through the mirror for a second.

You look away first and walk back to your bag again to take something else, "Dinner reservation?"

Felix hurriedly takes a step back to where he initially stands, "I already did a reservation for 7.30."

You stand in front of the mirror to apply a fresh coat of lipstick, oddly enough, it makes him uncomfortable, in a way that it feels like he's not allowed to look but he does it anyway.

"Coat," you say to him, gesturing him to take the coat off the hanger.

He immediately goes for it, holding the coat for you so you can easily put it on without a hassle. He almost helps you with your hair as well but you get to it first.

It's the boxing match of the year, most of the hotel guests are also coming to witness it, but you came because of a personal invitation. He doesn't know from who but he's grateful that he get to witness it from the best seats in the house.

You arrive as the opening match has just ended and as the show continues with commentary on the opening match, you walk around to greet the other guests.

Felix recognizes some of the faces, whether they're famous because he has seen them on TV or they're important people in the industry he works in.

"This is my assistant, Felix Lee," you never forget to include hin whenever you introduce yourself to someone and he feels so acknowledged for that. It's also a great chance to make connections within the industry.

You also make time to meet the journalists covering the match for the company, talking a few things in between and takes some pictures after.

Nothing much happened for the rest of the event, but Felix makes sure to snap a few pictures, sending them to his friends just to make them jealous. Busy replying to their salty messages, Felix doesn't notice that you're already getting up after the match result is announced.

"Come on. Time to leave," you tell him, rushing him to get up from his seat.

He guesses you want to leave before everyone is flooding the exit, he keeps following you as you make your way out of the hall and back to the lobby.

You start running toward something... or someone who seems to have been waiting for you by the hotel's fountain park.

"I didn't see you in there," you say, coming up to a girl with blond hair and fancy dressing.

"Not in a million years you'll find me watching a boxing match," she replies with a groan of disgust.

"But shouldn't you in there? I mean..."

"I let them have a boxing match in my hotel just to please my dad," she coyly says as if she didn't just say she owns the hotel.

That explains a lot of things, the invitation and the hotel, she must be the one who invited you, his curiosity is finally answered.

After a while, your friend finally acknowledges him, "Who's that?"

You look over your shoulder at him, oblivious to his presence until she asks about him, "It's my assistant."

"Oh?" She gasps in a rather curious way, she looks at him and offers her hand at him, "I'm Suze."

It's one of the things that astounded him, he always thought that rich people are too good for themselves but that's not the case with you, you can be very demanding at time but respectful? Always and so to other people. Or maybe he hasn't find decent rich people until today to know that.

Felix hurriedly takes Suze's hand and shakes it, "Felix."

"You know it's the only way I could see you," you tell her.

He doesn't know what you mean by that but he sees that Suze understands it right away, she comes to your side and links her arm with you.

"Come on. I'll show you where the real party is!" She says, taking you with her and Felix can only trail behind you like a lost puppy.

-

The club must be super exclusive and strictly private because he sees not many people in there but everyone is having real good time, enjoying their expensive liquors in their booths and generously tipping the strippers working the poles.

Everyone knows who is Suze as they know where to sit her, preparing the best spot in the club for her and not asking everything but to bring bottles of her favorite.

She starts with glasses of prosecco and hands Felix the first drink, once everyone get their drinks, she initiates a toast. He suddenly feels like intruding the girl's night for joining you and your friend so he plans on staying on the other end of the curved sofa to at least, give you some privacy to talk.

"Come here, darling," you call the stripper who happens to walk past the booth.

She comes up to you and stretches her hand at you, "Do you want a dance?"

You take her hand and hold it, "What's your name, gorgeous?"

"Ivy," she replies with a seductive smile.

"Gorgeous Ivy, I want you to give my man there a good time," your head makes a gesture at Felix.

Ivy turns her head at him, already getting in on her action by waving her hand and making eyes at him.

You turn to grab your purse and takes some cash from it, folding it in half, before slipping it in the strap of his white underwear.

"Go easy on him, okay, doll?" You tell her with your hand rests on the side of the thigh.

"Consider it done, honey," she says to you with a quick caress on your cheek.

This exchange between you and the stripper feels like a dream to him, something that is hard for him to perceive as reality. Until Ivy comes to do what you asked her to do, giving him a good time.

However, Felix finds his focus split between enjoying the dance Ivy is giving him or the talk you're having with Suze. He couldn't hear much through the music blasting in the room but he catches glimpses of it.

"...what your family did this time, making you handle the mess..." Suze sighs with smoke billowing out of her mouth.

"They made me. I have to, I have no options or else, they'll take everything from me," you tell her with eyes looking down at your glass of drink.

Suze lights up another cigarette right away and takes a quick drag, "Maybe they're just bluffing. Remember when my family made me stay at that mental retreat thing? They did that just to give me a lesson," she coyly says.

You shake your head and run your hand through your hair, making it disheveled, "I don't think so. I really struck their nerves this time. Big time," you emphasize those words with a heavy sigh.

"Why did you do it in the first place? Why upset them?"

"Because..." you pause to take a sip of your drink and after swallow it down, you continue speaking, "because I want to be free."

"You know we don't really have that much say on who we're going to marry, it's all set in stone," Suze shrugs despite how depressing she sounded, "All we can do is... accept it."

"It's not just about who I want to marry. Heck! I don't even know if I want to get married, I just want to live my life however I want," you say with a distressed sigh, taking a big gulp of your drink after.

"Just marry him and I'm sure they'll leave you alone," Suze simply resolves.

"I don't want to marry him. I don't love him," you argue, sounding desperate as you said it.

"People like us don't do that," Suze remarks, parting her mouth open to let out the curls of white smoke.

"What?" You ask.

"Love."

You suddenly get quiet and stare down at your drink, then a while later, finishing it in one long sip, you don't even wince at the bitter aftertaste.

"Fuck, it's getting bleak, let's have more drink!" She says, putting her cigarette away to break open a new bottle of liquor.

She then calls for another dancer to dance on the pole in the middle of the booth and throwing money at her at ease like those papers that gathered on the table doesn't worth months of rents but all that money is not enough to make you happy.

All that money and you can't afford something as simple as love.

-

Felix manages to not get drunk but what surprised him is how you manage to stay sober after drinking that much. You walk steadily and in straight line in your high heels, the only problem is you can't find the keycard in your purse.

"Let me help you," Felix offers, waiting for you to hand him his purse so he can search it for you.

You have it tucked between your wallet and he hurriedly open the door to your suite, keeping the door open for you. Without waiting for you, he pours a glass of water for you and next to the pitcher of water, he sees that someone has sent a bottle of champagne into your room.

He also notices there's a card that comes with it but before he can read it, you snatch it and throw it straight into the bin.

"Can you check what we wrote on the match result?" You tell him, pulling the bottle of champagne out of the bucket of ice.

"Yes, sure, give me a second," he pulls his phone out of his slacks and opens the webpage to Sports One, it's not hard to look for the article it's the top of the page.

"Read it to me," you order.

But he sees that you're struggling to open the wine, "I can help you with—"

"Read it to me," you repeat your words to him.

Felix better not make you repeat for the third time, so he starts reading the article out loud while you pour yourself some wine, drinking it the first one in one go and refill it again.

"Do you want some?" You suddenly interrupt him in the middle of him reading the article.

"No, thank you," he politely refuses.

"Just one drink," you coax with the glass is already in your hand.

"Okay," he caves in, putting away his phone to receive the glass of wine from you.

But instead of that, you sit on his lap and drink all the wine yourself. Using your thumb, you pull open his mouth and slowly, pouring the wine straight from your mouth.

After so many things that happened tonight, he doesn't expect another thing to happen again but here he is, opening his mouth for you and swallowing the wine you feed him.

Felix finds himself in a situation he once was in and he gets a sense of deja vu.

You wipe the drop of wine escaping the corner of his mouth with your thumb and hold his jaw as you look at him.

"I wonder if you can make it better again," you mutter with those eyes filled with sorrow.

Whatever it is you're going through, he wants to take it away from you or at least, makes you forget about it, even for a fleeting moment. He doesn't know if he can make it better but he can try, and he's willing to try.

Felix decides to take his chance and says, "Yes."

-

Felix meets a different you tonight, not the one who's been bossing him around for the past two weeks but also not the one he met on that eventful night.

The one he's meeting right now is simply a girl who seeks a solace in him and he gives everything in him to give you that.

He kisses you with his hands tenderly holding the side of your face while you're tearing open his shirt so you can roam your hands on his body.

He tilts your head to the side and cupping your face in one hand while the other is groping the your back, looking for the zipper of your dress. You eventually guide his hand to the side of your body where the zipper actually is.

The ripping sound of your zipper being part open is echoing in the room and he slowly pulls the sleeve of your dress, not wasting any second to place a soft kiss on your shoulder. He then drags his lips across your collarbone before pulling the dress down, revealing your body and the matching underwear you're wearing underneath.

He makes a trail of kisses down the front of your body even though he has to drop to his knees, he looks up at you as he kneels in front of you with his hands on each side of your hips.

He presses his lips against your abdomen and softly mutters, "You're so beautiful."

You slip your hand into his hair and tenderly gaze into his brown eyes as he places another long peck on your lower abdomen.

Felix continues his trail of his kisses to the side, placing little kisses down your thigh. To give him more access, he lifts your leg and put it on his shoulder so he can easily plant his mouth on your clothed sex.

"Oh," you loudly moan the second his hot breathe penetrate through the flimsy fabric of your underwear.

That only encourages him to open his mouth wider to take more of you, using his tongue to trace your folds and then gently suck on your bundle of nerves.

You grip his shoulder for support as he continues his delicious assault on you, until your underwear is soaked wet with a mix of your essence and his saliva.

Seeing that you getting a little imbalance from standing on one foot, he hurriedly gets up and wrapped you in his arms again. He kisses you deeply and passionately, in one swift move, he lifts you off your feet and carries you to bed. He then carefully lay you down and hovers above you.

You take the chance to remove his shirt and toss it away, then pull him for a kiss, a kiss that seems to you is more essential than breathing.

As kisses being exchanged between your lips and his, pieces of clothing are taken off until there's nothing left on both of your bodies. It's his skin rubbing against your skin, creating heat that sends the temperature rising and keep on rising.

Felix takes his wallet out of the back pocket before letting the slacks drops onto the floor, taking the foil packet from one of the compartments.

He takes a moment to concentrate on putting on protection, sitting on the end of the bed and slowly rolls the rubber down his stiff cock. Once he makes sure he puts it on properly, he joins you as you sit with your legs open on the bed.

Felix crashes his lips against yours again while his hand dives into your wetness. He slowly pulls away to take a breath in between kisses and about to kiss you again when you suddenly back away, the first thought that crosses his mind is he does something wrong.

"What is... what's wrong?" He stammers, licking his lips in confusion.

"I have one condition," you tell him.

That's a relief to know that it's not about him at all but he gets curious to find out what's that one condition and why you choose now to tell him.

"Okay," he says with a faltering eyes.

You grab his chin and bring his face close enough that your warm breath fanning his lips, "You can't stop until I tell you to."

You lay your hand flat on his chest, tilting your head to the side and gently nibble on his lower lip, "Get it?"

Felix can't back out now, not when he's all aroused and his cock is swollen and throbs to be inside you, and his focus is easily swayed by your hand that is lightly caressing his abs.

You tilt his head and force him to look at you, "I can't hear you, baby."

He hasn't said anything but it's obvious that you demand a verbal answer from him, whether he agrees to the one condition or not.

"Yes," he hastily replies before you take his silence as refusal.

"Yes," he says again with a repeated nod.

You reward his obedience with a deep kiss on his lips and pull away with a smile on your face, then you roll over to lay on your stomach and part your legs open for him, exposing your gushing entrance to him.

Felix swallows hard at the visual that makes his cock twitches between his legs.

You slowly look over your shoulder at him and catch him just looking at you with wide and lustful eyes. You take his hand and put it on your waist.

"Lie on top of me," you instruct.

He does what you ask, positioning himself between your legs then slowly, laying himself on top of you. His elbow propped against the mattress to keep himself from crushing you.

"Mmh... oh," you moan into his mouth as your lips collides in a rapturous kiss once more. You're guiding his hand to your breast so he can fondle at it while he keeps kissing you.

After a moment, you grip his forearm and mutters, "I don't think I can wait anymore."

He kisses your open mouth, "Yeah?"

"Put that beautiful cock inside me now," you say in a very casual manner like you didn't just make him wait a long time to do that.

Felix takes a moment just to prepare himself, making a trail of kisses down your spine and stopping as his lips land on your ass cheek. He's kneading on it, feeling your ample flesh that mold into his hand and finally, slides his fingers down to your wetness.

You're so hot and wet, and you're jutting your ass up for him, ready to take him. Oh, he can't find anything sexier than this.

Felix can't wait for another second, he wants you, his body is aching for you so he aims the tip of his cock into your entrance and slowly, sinking himself into you.

He can't hear himself moaning but he can hear yours, low and hoarse with your hands crumpling the sheet under you.

"Oh, my... so good," you hum into your pillow.

Felix lies onto your back again, giving you the closeness that you seek. He kisses you along your shoulders, your neck and up to your neck, and ultimately, your lips that endlessly offering him the sweet taste of your kiss, all while rocking his hips himself into you at a steady pace.

"Harder, harder," you demand while grabbing his hand that rests next to your hand.

It's taking everything in him not to come, he doesn't want to disappoint you by not following the one condition you set for him. He can't stop because you and you're nowhere close to tell him to stop.

The sounds of his hips slapping against your ass is making him losing his mind, along with the faith he has for himself that he can adhere to your one condition.

As if you sense it that his conviction is waning, you intertwine your hand with his and whine, "Don't stop! Don't stop!"

Felix takes a deep breathe while keeping the motion of his hips going, relentless thrusting himself into you while actively telling his brain not to shoot his load yet.

"You're so deep, oh... I can feel you everywhere," you whine, pulling him close by the neck to kiss him.

The kiss breaks as you loudly moan and your eyes are screwed shut, overwhelmed by the pleasure of his cock hitting you right on the spot repeatedly.

"Keep going, oh..." the rest of your sentence is incoherent ot his brain is clouded with lust to be able to process it.

Felix puts all of him into it, his strength and the last shred of sanity that still clung to him, he doesn't care that he's growling like a hungry animal.

It's when you start pushing back against him, he knows that you're both close. A few thrusts later, you both collapse onto the bed as waves of pleasure washing over you.

As for Felix, he feels exceptionally relieved, he got his release and the satisfaction that he successfully kept his promise to you.

The first thing you both do after gained your senses back is to search for each other's lips and locked it together in a breathless kiss.

"I hope you have another condom in your wallet," you mutter to him.

He stiffens against your kiss, bamboozled by what you said. He looks at you and you look back into his eyes.

Softly, you grab his chin and swipe your thumb across his lips, "You can't stop until I tell you, remember?"

-

It's almost like Felix is repeating that day he first met you. He is in a hotel room, the bed is empty when he woke up and he's naked under the cover. He looks around to confirm that he really spent another night with you again.

However, this time is different. The previous time, you were a mere stranger to him but now, you are his boss and that changes things between you and him.

You're his boss but also someone he's casually having sex with? It does sounds sexy when he puts it that way but this complicates things.

There's a knock on the door and Felix takes that as his cue to leave before you can catch him. He's scrambles to find all of his clothes that scattered on the floor, starting by putting his underwear and his slacks next.

As he works to zip his fly, you appear on the doorway of the bathroom with your hair and skin glistening wet.

"That must be breakfast. Can you get it?" You casually say to him while tying the belt on your bathrobe.

"Yes, sure," he reflexively answers because it seems like its his default now to say yes to everything you said.

Without putting his shirt on first, Felix heads to the door to open it and it's indeed the breakfast you ordered. He lets the hotel staff serves the food on the small dining table and waits until the staff leaves to makes his leave as well.

However, you catch him before he can make his moves, "Coffee?" you offer while lifting the coffee pot to fill a cup.

"Uh... yes," he stammers.

You fill the other cup for him and then turns your head at him, "Aren't you going to sit or...?"

Aware that he's half-naked, he keeps hugging himself and covering his bare chest with his hands as he takes a seat on the opposite of the dining table from you.

"I don't know what you want so I ordered most of everything," you say, carefully taking a sip of your steaming hot coffeee.

That explains the various selections of breakfast laid out in front of him. Not waiting for you to tell him what to do, Felix reaches for the plate of toast and takes a piece, lathering it with butter to finally taking a bite of it while you opt for a bowl of fruits.

Suddenly, this feels normal, you and him having breakfast together on a peaceful Sunday morning.

"The blueberries are nice," you casually say while shoving a blueberry into your mouth.

He's not sure if you're just making a remark or suggesting it to him, but it feels wrong to not responding, "Yeah?"

"Mmh," you reply with a nod.

"Maybe I should try some," he says, getting comfortable talking in a casual manner to you.

Another cup of coffee later, you switch to orange juice, sipping it while reading something on your phone.

"What time is our flight again?"

Felix has to rake his brain to get an answer for you, "I'm sure it's at 3.15," he tells you.

You check the time and nod, "Then we can check out after lunch," you say.

"Do you want to reserve a table for lunch? At one of the hotel restaurants?"

"No, it's fine."

His brain is trained to record everything you said as he knows you don't like having to repeat your orders to him.

"Alright," he responds with a nod while listing everything in his head.

You look up from your phone and look him in the eyes, "You're free for the rest of the morning. You can come pick me up at 1 pm."

Now, he takes that as his cue to leave and time to get back to reality. He finishes his cup of coffee and gets up from his chair.

"I'll get everything prepared," he says.

He goes to the bedroom to pick up the rest of his clothes and putting them on, not forgetting his wallet that somehow ended up lying under the bed.

He knows he has say something to you before leaving the room, "I'll excuse myself."

You put down your glass and prop a hand under your chin, "Felix?"

He makes a 180 turns and looks at you, "Yes?"

"Keep in mind that you're working for me so when you come back here, we're going to act professional," you tell him with a rather assertive tone.

Felix knows well that it's not a request or a command, it's how things should be and he agrees that he should be able to keep these two things separated.

"Are we clear?" You ask for confirmation.

"Crystal," he shortly replies.

-

A week later, Felix finds it easy to keep those two things separate when his personal life is almost nonexistent and you keep things strictly business.

It's almost like that night never happened and that version of you seems like a distant memory to him now along with the one he first met that night, the girl who walked into the hotel barefooted.

The version of you he's having now is the workaholic and it's fitting since it's the busiest time at Sports One office, everyone is busy preparing the annual issue.

The main focus is the exclusive interview with the golf legend, David Kent and you carry the most important task of all that is to write it.

Felix has been struggling to keep up with everything, his eyes never stray away from the computer screen, scanning through emails and responding to them as fast as he could.

Before something else pops up on the computer screen, he rushes to the pantry to make himself another cup of coffee to keep functioning.

"I've never seen you worked this hard," Yoon appears from behind him as usual.

"Not today, Yoon!" He stops her before she continues dragging him down the gloomy path.

"Okay. Fair enough," she says, taking a paper cup from the pile and fills it with coffee.

He only left for a few minutes to peacefully enjoy his coffee but when he comes back, he finds you standing behind his desk, going through his computer.

Hearing his footsteps, you glance up and glare at him, "Why aren't you on your desk?"

He's never heard you this upset and tense, he knows he should answer you properly, "I was getting coffee but I—"

"My office!" You cut him off and trudge your way into your office.

You never cut him off, ever so this only means that you're not upset, you're furious about something and he doesn't know what is it. He's just standing there flummoxed, wondering what got him into this situation.

You appear from the doorway of your office and glare at him, "My office. Now!"

Oh, no, Felix just made you repeat your words again so he wastes not another second to get into your office and closes the door before standing in front of you, ready to face the music.

"Is there something—"

"On the schedule, it says that the second interview with Mr. Kent is today at 4pm," you say with your jaws clenched.

He knows your schedule by heart so he nods to confirm, "Yes."

"Then why did I get a call from his assistant telling me that he has left for Japan?" You lean forward on the desk and intensely staring into his eyes.

Flabbergasted, Felix lets out an awkward chuckle and says, "But that doesn't make sense. They can't just reschedule without informing us first."

"They actually sent an email about the reschedule to you."

His palms start to sweat so he rubs them down the side of his jeans, "The last time we corresponded was about the questions for the interview."

"I checked your emails and it's there. I even saw that you read it but didn't forward it to me," you're not only refuting his words but also catching his errors.

"I would have known if they sent me the email, I would have—"

"It was sent last night at 8.23pm to be exact," you come with a definite answer.

Fuck! Yesterday, he was busy running around the office and preparing meetings while at the same time, busy calling the clients for you. He may have skipped through the email without he intended to which makes him responsible to this.

You shift to one side of your chair and give him a judging look, "You know what Felix, you could have prevented it from happening."

He starts to sweat all over knowing that his job is on the line but it's strange that what he hates the most is making you disappointed in him, and probably, the whole office too since it's the exclusive interview.

"You could have doublechecked everything and confirm it with his assistant..." you pause to let out a sigh, then you snidely smile at him and continue, "But you didn't."

He makes this mess therefore he has to clean it up, he quickly thinks of something to solve this, and he'll give everything in him to take responsibility.

"I'll do anything to make up for it. I'm sure we can make a new appointment or..." he's stuttering, conveying a few solutions to the issue.

"Didn't you hear what I said?" You say with a calm yet piercing tone, "He left for Japan an hour ago."

He has to wait until he lands so he can try and arrange a new meeting. Even if he did manage to secure an appointment, he has to fly to Japan for the interview and that takes more time, and it's only days away from the release of the annual issue.

In other words, there's nothing he can do to fix it.

"I'm going to be honest with you, Felix," you say as you press your fingers to your temple.

"I've been working with you for more than a month now and I was right about my first impression on you, you don't have what it takes for the job."

There's a lump forming in his throat but the more he swallows, the more it's clogging his windpipe, making it hard for him to breath.

"But I told myself to give you the benefit of the doubt and well, you did the job in which we paid you for, an adequate assistant."

His hands are trembling so he clasps them together to not let you see them while continously listening to you even though every word you said are rather sharp and hurt him in places.

"And now, I'm not sure that you're still an adequate assistant," you finish your sentence with a heavy sigh.

His jaws are clenched and unclenched, he's mad but not at you. He's mad at himself and he deserves to hear every word you said.

But he'd rather have you screamed and called him stupid than have you just quietly sitting there and looking at him in profound disappointment.

After a moment passes in agonizing silence, you pick up your phone and start scrolling to find something,

"You're dismissed," you bitterly say to him.

Felix doesn't want to back down without, at least, offering his help to fix the mess he made.

"I'm sure I can help you with something," his voice deepens, heavy with resentments.

You look up from your phone and look at him again, "What you can do now is reconsider whether you want to keep doing this job or not."

That feels like a hard slap on his face and he knows he's not welcomed here anymore. He gives you a nod to excuse himself out of your office since he can't seem to mutter any words without getting emotional.

With heavy steps, he walks back to his desk and collapses onto his chair. It seems like no one knows what just happened in your office and that's good, he wants to wallow about everything by himself.

He roughly runs his hands through his hair and leans back on his chair, the deep breathe he took are not helping to lessen the tightness in his chest.

He's thinking about what you said to him, replaying everything in the back of his head and he hates himself more for that. Moreover, he did what you asked him to do, reconsider whether he wants to keep his job or not.

One thing becomes clear to him, he's truly unfit for the job.

He rolls his chair toward his desk, opens his computer and starts working on his resignation letter.

-

The next day, you're not coming to the office.

Usually, you would have notified him about it so in case a client asks for you, he knows what to say. It seems like you're no longer consider him as your assistant.

Felix should be glad because that means you're expecting him to quit his job so handing you the resignation letter wouldn't be a surprise to you.

Since he's still employed, he continues his job, answering emails and taking calls for you, explaining your absence as much as he could to whoever asked to speak to you.

"Heard you messed up yesterday," Yoon appears from behind his computer this time.

Of course, Yoon knows about it and won't pass the chance to celebrate his downfall with a fake, emphatic smile.

"No need to say it, I know," she says, stopping him from answering it.

Felix doesn't have the energy to deal with her so he lets her dancing on his misery while he mindlessly reading something on his computer.

"Do you know why she's not coming to the office today?" Yoon curiously asks.

He wants to make up something but she'd know that he's lying so he decides not to even try, "I don't know."

"Well, I know," she says with a bragging smile.

"And I don't want to know," he hastily responds, but he's not really mean it. He actually wants to know why you're not coming to the office and if it has anything to do with him.

Yoon comes into his desk and sits on the edge while hugging a bunch of files close to her chest, "I'm going to let you know anyway," she says.

He pretends not to care about it and keeps his focus on the article that he's not reading at all.

Yoon leans to his side and whispers, "That's because she's in Japan."

He stays unbothered even though he's been trying to read the same paragraph over and over again.

"Not only that someone got her another appointment with Mr. David Kent but also lent her his private jet to take her straight to Japan," Yoon adds, sounding excited to tell him that.

Without looking, Felix knows Yoon is seeking any reactions from him but he's not going to give her the satisfaction.

"I did my own research and I kind of figured who that generous person is..." she says while nodding her head, then she lets out a chuckle, "But I'm not going to tell you that because you don't care."

Felix almost turns his head and glares at her for not telling him about the mysterious guy doing all the extra efforts for you.

Yoon hops off his desk and goes around his desk, "You know what? I'll tell you about it later," she teasingly says just to annoy him.

She starts walking then stops after a few steps, she turns around to look at him, "That if you didn't get fired by the end of the day," she makes a snide remarks with a laugh that echoing behind her as she walks away.

Felix is not getting fired, he chooses to resign from his position. Knowing that you won't be back soon and he doesn't want to wait the whole weekend to prolong the pain, he decides to put his resignation letter on your desk before he leaves today.

When he gets back to his desk and grabs his backpack full of his things, his heart gets heavy. He believes it's not coming from knowing that he's losing the job but knowing that the last impression he made on you is not a pleasant one.

The worst thing is that would be the last time Felix saw you.

-

Felix shouldn't think much about it but he keeps guessing what your reaction would be when you found his resignation letter on your desk.

Surprised? Not likely.

Angry? If it's the way he delivers his resignation letter then yes, you'd be likely angry.

Sad? Definitely not. He won't even dare to think that you feel the slightest bit of sad about him leaving.

It's Saturday night and instead of going out to fully enjoy his freedom, he stays in and mope around, making himself miserable in each passing hour.

The knocks on the door are so faint that he thinks he's imagining it. He doesn't order food but maybe he did and forgot about it.

"Coming!" He shouts toward the door as the knocks come again.

He opens the door with zero expectations and finds you standing there, he has to take a double take to make sure that it's really you.

"Hi," you greet with a smile.

Felix got used to seeing you in your formal attire of shirts and tight skirts, but now you're dressed casually in a simple blouse and blue jeans.

"Hey," he innocently greets back and it feels strange saying that to you.

"Am I welcomed or should I leave?" You ask as he just stands there looking at you in bewilderment.

"You may come in," he says, awkwardly stepping to the side to let you in.

You step in, clasping your purse on one side while looking around his place as you step further, "It's a nice house."

That's kind of you to say so when you can see how untidy the place is, Felix rushes to collect the dirty laundry scattering out of the laundry basket and puts all the dirty dishes into the sink.

"Thank you," he sheepishly says then notices the mess on the table.

You end up putting down your expensive looking bag on the sofa and stand there looking at him, "May I sit down?"

"Yes, of course, please, sit down, please," he realizes he's acting stupid when he's the owner of the house therefore it's his duty to treat his guest well.

"Can I offer you a drink?" He asks, finding it easy to ask that to you, "Coffee, juice, beer...?"

Why would he offers you beer? You're not one of his male friends, you're a classy lady who drinks wine and can tell the difference between cabernet and burgundy.

"Water is fine," you answer.

"Water, okay," he foolishly repeated out loud. He can hear you lowly chuckling at that and he hurriedly turns around to get you a glass of water.

"Thank you," you mutter your gratitude as he hands you your glass of water and not hesitate to take a small sip.

Felix sits on the smaller sofa across from you and the question finally gets to him: Why did you come here? But he can't just directly ask you that, that's rude.

"Are you living with a housemate?" You curiously ask.

It seems like you notice the other room in the house, "Yes, but he's studying abroad so now it's just me."

"Oh," you respond with a small nod.

Then again, he's the owner of the house, he has the right to ask your intention of why you came here. He carefully picks his words before saying them to you and—

"Do you mind if we order dinner? The last meal I had was on the flight back home," you ask, taking out your phone from your purse, "I'm a little hungry right now."

He refrains from asking and getting up from the sofa, "Not at all. I have a few restaurants numbers here if you..." his words trailing off as he realizes he's babbling again and waddling to the restaurant flyers stuck to the door of his fridge.

"What would you like to eat for dinner?"

Felix once again gets the feeling that this is normal, you and him having dinner together on his small dining table. He's not eating with the girl he works for but a girl who wholeheartedly eating her food and enjoying every bite of it.

After dinner, you offered to wash the dishes but he strongly refused, so now you wander around the house with a can of cold beer in hand and he can't comprehend it. How is it real?

With the silence that settles into the space, he takes this as an opportunity to ask you the reason why you came here. He stands in the middle of the room and slightly leans against the back of the sofa.

"Can I ask you something?" He boldly asks.

You turn around from scanning his shelf full of figurines, "I'm not coming here as your boss if that's what you're asking," you say, playing with one of the figurines.

Maybe that's what his question should be: who are you coming here as? As his boss or...?

"And what you're coming here as?" He asks, genuinely curious with your answer.

You calmly put back the figurine to where it belongs and look at him, "As someone you're casually having sex with," you answer.

So you did acknowledge those two instances and not forgetting them as they were, somehow, he feels a little flustered by the way you put it bluntly like that.

You're slowly making your way to him and each footsteps echoing in the room, making his heart pounding faster and faster.

You stop just one step away from him, "Which brings me to a question," you say.

"Yeah?" His deep voice drops lower without he intending to.

"Can I stay the night over?"

What is it about you that makes him wants to do anything you ask, it's like his default settings to always submit to your wishes. The next thing he knows, you're borrowing his clothes to sleep in.

He's making the bed for you when you come out of the bathroom in his t-shirt that is too big on you and his eyes wander down only to see that you ditch the pants he's lending you.

"The pants is too big," you inform him as you fold your clothes and put the neat pile on top of his dresser.

"You can sleep here and I'll take the couch," he says as he finishes changing the bedsheets.

"Why?" You ask in a rather sad tone.

"I don't think you'd be comfortable sharing the bed with me," he simply answers.

"We had sex twice. I'm sure we're more than comfortable sharing the bed together," you say, climbing onto the bed and getting under the cover.

You're so straightforward and a little too honest, people may mistaken that for rudeness but no to him, he finds it endearing instead.

"Come on! I hate sleeping alone," you entice him by patting the space next to you.

Felix hates how obedient he is to you like he has no power to say no to you, he gets onto the bed and awkwardly lays down next to you.

You take his arm out so you can rest your head on it and you mold yourself to the side of his body, then rest your hand on his chest.

"This is so much better," you hum as you close your eyes.

His heart beats faster inside his chest and he believes you can hear it too but as the moment passes in comfortable silence, he finds himself getting cozy cuddling you, he allows his hand to play with your hair and rests it on your shoulder.

"That day at the office..." you murmur close to his neck.

His eyes snap open at the mention of that day but he remains calm, "Mmh?"

You tilt your head and look at him, "Want to talk about it?"

"I don't know," he honestly says, he hates to ruin this bubble of comfort by talking about it.

You gently hold his chin and turn his head to make him look at you, "I want you to know that what I said... I was being objective toward your job. It has nothing to do with this."

What you're doing is making sure he's not mixing everything up, thinking that you're being personal about his job when in fact, you don't and he's well aware of that.

"I know," he says.

"Then why you seem so mad at me?" You ask with sad eyes.

"I'm not mad at you. I'm mad at myself for disappointing you," he admits, and it feels easy to tell you about it in this setting.

"Oh, baby," You coo, caressing his cheek as you softly gaze into his eyes, "So what are you going to do now?"

"I need to try harder and prove to you that I can be more than adequate at my job," he confidently tells you with a smile.

You place a sweet kiss on his cheek and smile, "And you will."

He doesn't even know where he gets the confidence from but he feels it and it's overflowing, he suddenly feels invincible and nothing is impossible to him.

With the confidence surging all over his body, he leans in and kisses you. From the way you kiss him back and opening your mouth for him, he can tell you want it as much as him. Your hand slips under his t-shirt, running it up his chest and down to his abdomen, trailing the outline of his abs.

"Let me make you feel better, mmh?" You say against his lips and slide your hand down to the waistband of his sweatpants.

Felix already feels hot all over even though your hand hasn't made any contact with his hardening member yet. You tease him by running your hand around his inner thighs, cupping his clothed member and stroke it.

"Oh, mmh..." he moans against your mouth, almost growling when you pull his sweatpants down just enough to let his erection sprung free.

"You're so hard," you mutter to him with a sly smile. You break the kiss to look down and see your hand wrapped around his swollen cock.

Felix can't help but look down as well, watching you feeling every inch of his length with your fingers and using your thumb to tease the tip of his cock.

"So hot," you sigh with your hot breath brushing his ear.

He turns his head to meet your lustful gaze and pulls you into a kiss, a kiss that takes things further as your hand moves at a steady pace, stroking his length and giving just the right pressure to please him.

"Faster?"

He repeatedly nods with a needy whimper that escapes his parted mouth.

You pick up the pace, pumping his cock faster than before while continously placing slobbering kisses on his lips and neck.

"You like that?" You ask with your heavy breathing fanning his neck.

"Yeah," he breathlessly answers.

Sensing that he's getting there, you keep a steady pace and the intensity of your grip around his cock. To help him getting closer to his release, you also keep murmuring words into his ear.

"You're getting bigger in my hand."

"You're going to cum for me, right?"

"Make a mess in my hand, mmh?"

Felix's eyes are fluttering shut as he gets closer to his high, his legs are shaking and his cock is twitching in your hand. You're just too good at this, tirelessly pumping his cock just to get him to his—

"Oh, oh, oh..." a series of moans slipping out of his mouth as he cums.

You don't stop but rather slowing down your pumping as pearly white of his cum spurting out of the tip of his cock and dripping down his length and your hand.

"Oh, fu..." he can't even finish his word, he's overwhelmed with pleasure that washes over him in ebbs and flows.

You press a kiss on his neck and a longer one on his jaw, he turns his head slightly to the side, offering his lips for you to kiss next.

The kiss tastes much sweeter, making him crave for it that he crashes his lips on you again. You let go first yet hold his face close.

"Feel better now?"

Felix smiles at you and answers, "A lot better."

-

Everyone likes eggs, right? But he doesn't know how do you like your eggs is the problem. Scrambled? Sunnyside up? Boiled? Poached? Or you know, one of those fancy egg dishes.

What is it called? Egg Benedict? He searches how to cook it on the internet and gives up completely after finding out how.

He decides to settle with the simplest and one that he can cook it best, scrambled eggs with toast and a steaming mug of coffee, two creams and no sugar just how you like it.

He puts the breakfast on the tray and cautiously carrying it to the bedroom. He pushes the door with his foot, doing it quietly not to startle you.

Felix finds you still sleeping basked with the sunlight that comes through the window, creating a hazy glow around you and he couldn't find it in him to wake you up.

However, he can't let the breakfast get cold considering that he puts a lot of effort into it. He starts by sitting on the edge of the bed and hesitantly places his hand on your shoulder.

He rubs your arm and then gently squeezes your shoulder, "Hey," he sweetly murmurs.

Not enough to wake you up, he tries again by cupping your jaw in his hand, "Hey, wake up."

Slowly and beautifully, your eyes are fluttering open and warmly looking at him. You take your time to gather your senses and rub the sleep off your eyes.

"Good morning," he mutters with an affectionate pat on your head.

"Morning," you reply with a hoarse voice, and slowly getting up to sit with your back against the headboard of the bed, "I smell coffee."

With a proud smile, he presents you a tray full of breakfast he made for you, he carefully sets it on the space between him and you on the bed.

"You made these?" You ask as you tuck your hair behind your ears.

"What's with the tone of surprise?" He playfully responds.

You softly laugh and decide to start with a small sip of coffee, letting the caffeine helps you waking up from the inside.

"I hope you like it," he says, putting the cutlery close to your hand.

You waste no time to dig into the breakfast, taking a bite of the toast and then followed with a forkful of scrambled egg.

"This is delicious," you compliment him.

You take a piece of toast and feed it to him, "I think we should eat it together."

Starting the day by having breakfast together on bed with you feels exceptionally special and he wants to keep this beautiful feeling for as long as he could. An idea crosses his head but he's not sure you'd go along with it.

"The weather is nice," he says as he tears into another piece of toast.

You look toward the window and nod, "Yeah, it's sunny and nice."

"What do you think about going on a ride with me?" He sheepishly asks.

"On your bike?" You ask.

He doubts that you'd say yes because the last time you got onto his bike, you were holding on for dear life, but he nods to answer your question.

You take a sip of your coffee before coming with an answer, "I'd love that, yeah."

-

With the jacket and helmet he lends you, you look ready for the bike ride. Since it's your second time riding the bike, he finds you more relaxed than before. He can't see much of your face with the helmet getting in the way of seeing it.

When the bike stops at a traffic light, he finds your hands resting on his thighs instead of around him. He takes them and puts them around his waist yet you slide them down to his thighs again.

"Why? You don't like it?" You simply ask.

He laughs and pulls up the visor of his helmet, "I like it but we have to keep it safe, mmh?"

Instead of around his waist, your hands climb higher to his chest and cupping his breasts, "Like this then?"

He laughs again and taking your hand to kiss it, then putting them tightly around him. He can see you smiling through the small rear view mirror.

"Hold on tight!" He says as the lights turn green.

The summer air feels warm as the bike launches forward through the scenic roads where you can see the whole city from the top of the hill. After getting off the bike, he guides you to walk a short trail that leads to his favorite spot, hidden behind the wall of trees and rocks.

"Wow!" You gasp as you stare at the view, "This is beautiful."

The view would be more beautiful at night but the day doesn't make it less beautiful either, the sun gives a warm glow on the city, making it looks like a dreamscape.

"It is beautiful," he sighs but he's not talking about the view.

He can see that you're in awe of the view, completely mesmerized by it and the whole thing that creates this moment. The bright sun, the summer air, the blue sky, the birds that faintly singing, the rustles of the tree branches whenever the wind blows, but the most important thing here is you.

He shyly takes your hand and holds it close to his side, ignoring that his heart is beating out of his chest as he does it.

"I think you know by now how I got this job," you suddenly start speaking something that is out of what he sets the mood for.

"No, I don't really talked about it with..." he says, then in the middle of the sentence, he remembers that he did talk about it with Yoon, "...anyone ever."

"I don't care with what people say about it because first, this is not a job," you turn your head to look at him, "It's a punishment."

"How is that so?" He asks, suddenly gets curious about it.

"I did something that angered my family so they did that, it's their way to punish me," you answer, sighing as you look at the view as far as you could, "They thought that I wouldn't be able to save the company. They're basically waiting for my downfall as we speak so they can laugh at my face and say 'we told you so!'."

Felix is grateful that he was born into a loving, supportive family that when he heard about yours, he can't relate himself to it at all. How come your own family wishes for your downfall? How come your own blood and flesh treat you this cruelly?

"You see, I have a lot to prove but I don't really have anyone helping me," you sadly admit.

His heart hurts hearing you say that that he tightly holds your hand to let you know that you're not alone, he's right there with you.

"You have me," he says in all conviction.

You softly smile as you look at him, "You don't have to do that."

"But I do. I want to help you," he confidently declares out loud, "I'm not that reliable, I know, but I'll try my best to help you."

You start chuckling and he realizes that he didn't seem as noble as he pictured it in his head, he feels like rolling himself down the hill.

"Oh, God! I'm stupid," he mutters to himself.

You turn to face him, "No. I think that's endearing," you say, then you lean in for a chaste kiss on his lips.

One kiss is enough to leave him dazed for a good minute until he reels himself back to reality. He takes that kiss as a sign that you allowed him to be more affectionate toward you and he's not going to waste this precious moment.

Felix looks out at the view and lets out the loudest scream that's echoing in the sky.

You gasp then break into laughter in reaction to it, "What is that for?"

"Try it! You'll feel good after," he suggests with a devilish smirk that decorates his angular face.

You consider it for a moment then turn your head toward the sky, your eyes are closed to face the blinding sun then let out a jarring scream that seems to help you draining out the pent-up angers inside you.

"That's a good one!" Felix sincerely says with an impressed smile.

You cover your eyes and shyly smile, and Felix thinks he's lucky that he gets to discover you this vulnerable side of you which doesn't make you less amazing, it makes you human.

With this warm feeling flooding his chest, Felix just can't stand there and sharing it through actions. He gets behind you and puts his arms around you, holding you from the back to enjoy the view together.

Your body slowly molds into him and you drop your head to his shoulder, then let out a delightful sigh.

"Thank you for taking me here," you say with your hand delicately rubbing his forearm.

"You're very welcome," he says back with a smile.

Even a beautiful day has come to an end.

Felix makes the most of it by enjoying the ride as the bike gliding through the city streets and taking you back home. He's sad that it's over but the best thing about it is he gets to see you again tomorrow and perhaps, it's going to be a more beautiful day than today.

His bike enters the parking basement and stops by the entrance of your apartment building where he usually drops you off from work.

You get off the bike and unclasp your helmet to take it off, you run your hand through your hair to tidy it as best as you could.

"Thank you for today," you say again as you hand him his helmet back.

"Don't mention it," he says, taking his helmet off too so he can comfortably talk to you.

"The jacket..." you say, realizing that you're borrowing it from him.

He tugs the hem and uses it to pull you closer, "You can keep it. It looks good on you," he says with a seductive smile.

You probably know what he's trying to do here, you put your hands on his shoulders and look at him, "I had fun today."

"Me too," he mindlessly says them back as he gets lost in your eyes.

"I have to go," you say.

"Okay," he says them back, and now that he glances at your lips, he feels tempted to to kiss you.

The attraction is there because why the next thing he knows your face is only inches away from him that he can feel your warm breath against his lips.

"Goodnight, Felix," you mutters to him, then lick your lips as if they're not enticing him already.

"Goodnight," he says back but you know well enough he's not ready to let you go.

He places his hands on each side of your waist and closes the gap between your bodies, he chooses not to kiss you right away. His lips lingering close to yours, rubbing them against yours before finally planting a passionate kiss on you.

If it wasn't for the car that interrupt this intimate moment, you wouldn't have pulled away from the kiss. You smile and place a last kiss on his cheek.

"Goodnight," you say again then take a step back.

"Night," he says, still reeling from the kiss.

"Be careful on the ride home," you say for one last time before walking toward the entrance and

He watches until you get in and dissappear from his sight to get ready to get home. As he rides his bike and feels the wind brushing his skin, he thinks things couldn't get any better than this.

-

Everyone leaves the office early to attend the release party but you insisted on staying a little longer to make sure everything is ready for tonight and Felix helps you by checking it right on site.

He reports back everything to you through a phone call as you're finishing things up in the office.

"Double check with the caterer again about the extra selection of foods," you order through the phone.

"Noted!" He sats as he jots it down on his note, "Anything else?"

"Pick up my dress and deliver it to my apartment."

"Yes."

"Don't forget to remind the driver to pick me up at 7pm sharp," you conclude.

"Uh..." Felix was thinking of doing that himself and it's the perfect time to tell you, "What do you think if I..."

"Call me if something comes up," you hang up the call before he can finish his words.

There's no time to waste here, with or without picking him up, he'll see you at the party. He does everything on his to do list and the last thing is to pick up your dress at the shop. He got your dress but he also got something else.

"What is this one?" He asks the lady who hands him the dress.

"You are her assistant, right?"

He innocently nods in response.

"This one for you. She made a note that this is for you to wear to the party," the lady says, helping him carrying the dress as to not ruin it.

He refuses the urge to peer inside to see what you ordered for him, he remains firm and safely delivered the dress to your apartment before heading home to get ready for the party.

Felix doesn't call the driver on purpose, he takes the car with him and leaves a little after six to pick you up. He keeps checking himself on the mirror if his tie is askew or his hair stays in place despite the amount of hairspray he used.

The car is parked right outside the main entrance of your apartment building, he pulls out his phone to let you know about his arrival.

"The car is ready outside," he informs you, sparing the detail of who drove it here.

"I'll be there in five," you shortly reply and hang up the call.

The truth is five minutes is not enough to mentally prepared himself, because all of a sudden, Felix gets nervous but also excited at the same time. But knowing that you'll be coming through the doors any minute now, he keeps his cool and fixes his tie countless of times.

When the doorman reaches for the doors, he knows that it must be you. He takes a deep breath and stands up straighter, ready to greet you. However, the second he sees you, he completely loses his cool.

"Wow!" He lowly gasps, gobsmacked by how you look tonight.

You look so perfect in that silk black dress with the high slit on the side, exposing your leg as you slowly descending the steps.

Gosh, where is his manner? He hurriedly snaps himself out of his daze and walks up to the base of steps, offering you his hand to walk down the last couple of steps.

"So, you're my driver for the night?" You ask with a half smirk that quite provoke him in a way.

"Yes, ma'am," he says with a foolish grin.

"Excuse my impertinence but you look divinely beautiful tonight," he genuinely says, just in case you didn't see it by how mesmerized he is by you.

You look at him, taking a moment to see him from head to toe and bring your eyes to his face again, one of your eyebrows raised as you notice the silk tie he's wearing.

"You look not bad yourself," you compliment him back.

Aware that the host can't be late to her party, he hurriedly goes to the car and opens the door for you, not forgetting to offer his hand to help you get inside.

Arrived at the venue, Felix actively assisting you from the moment you get out of the car, helping you make an entrance to the party you host, holding your purse for you, fixing your dress so the photographers can take only the best pictures of you and he's okay being seen like a little puppy trailing behind you.

When you're finally inside, Felix can relax a little, he brings you a glass of champagne for a starter.

"Your drink," he hands your drink to you.

"Thank you," you mutter your gratitude with a smile which makes everything he did for you so rewarding to him.

"You know it's everyone's party and that's including you."

He has to refrain from sipping his own drink as he doesn't fully grasp what you meant by that, "Pardon me?"

"What I mean is you're not supposed to be working tonight. I can always call a driver to get me home," you answer, taking a sip of your wine and leaving a lipstick mark on the rim.

"No, that's okay. I can definitely drive you home," he convinces you.

"But that's what I'm trying to say, you shouldn't be driving me home. You should be drinking and having fun," you tell him, keeping the conversation low as the place starts to fill with more people.

"I'm having fun," he assures you with an easy smile.

You take the glass of juice from his hand along with your purse he's been holding, "Just go and have fun," you tell him again.

Uh-oh! He knows better to not make you tell him for the third time so he reluctantly goes to the bar and orders himself a mocktail because he's adamant to be your driver tonight.

It's not like he doesn't have anyone to talk to, in fact, he knows almost everyone who works on the same floor with him but while he's mingling with other people, his eyes lingers on you.

He gets alarmed when a new guy comes into the scene and you welcome him with a smile, not that courteous smile you always do when you're meeting a client or doing business. It's a friendly smile that he once saw when you met Suze a month ago.

Fortunately, Felix knows where to go when he needs informations and it's not hard to find Yoon, she's somewhere close to where the food is. He skips the small talk and asks right away.

"Do you know who that guy is?" He asks.

Yoon can find you right away since you're the only one looking exceptionally stunning among the sea of boring people in suits.

"You mean the guy who's intimately talking to your boss?" Yoon asks back with her mouth full of food.

Felix's eyes darts to see it and she's right, you're leaning into each other as you speak and you even laugh in between.

"Yes," he answers with clenched jaws.

Yoon washes the food down with a glass of wine, "You don't know him?"

Felix can't tell what pisses him off more, the fact that he doesn't know who's that guy or Yoon for making it obvious to him or both of them combined.

"He's the Kim Seungmin," Yoon says, taking another glass of wine from the server as he walks past her.

"Who?" He asks in confusion.

"Kim Seungmin from the son of the KS Corp, CEO of KS airline, owner of the Huskies Luxe stadium along with its basketball club. What do you mean you don't know?" Yoon says with a judging glare aimed at him.

"You're working at a sports media outlet for goodness sake," she adds, shaking her head as she takes for another piece of canapés.

Well, Felix gets what he came here for even though he has to sacrifice his dignity for that. He's about to turn to leave when Yoon tugs at the sleeve of his suits.

"That's him," she says, struggling to speak and chew at the same time.

"What?"

Yoon takes her time to chew her food thoroughly, making him wait for the answer in anticipation. After a good minute, she swallows it down and finally speaks again, "He was the one with the private jet and secured the meeting with David Kent."

Oh, so not only that he has the look and the money, he's been playing knight in shining armor for you? He scoffs in disbelief and about to storm away when Yoon says something that stops him on his track again.

"And by the way, they're engaged," she adds as she shoves another finger food into her mouth.

He thinks he misheard it so he asks again, "Come again?"

He shots her an intense glare and Yoon swallows her food fast, "They're engaged," she says while wiping her mouth with a napkin.

"Who?"

"Those two excellent humans," Yoon says, pointing at you and the guy you're getting too friendly with.

Engaged? If that's true, then why this is the first time Felix heard it? Engaged? He cracks a laugh because it sounds like an absolute bollock to him because that means he's been having sex with someone's fiancée.

Deep down, Felix knows what pisses him the most is that he feels a sense of betrayal from you. Yoon swiftly grabs another glass of wine from the server but he snatches it from her hand and gulps it down in one go.

"Excuse me," Yoon call the server who just came from the bar carrying a tray full of drinks.

"Yes?" The server asks.

"Can we have the drinks?"

"Sure," the server takes two drinks for Yoon and Felix.

But Yoon hands them back to her and takes the tray from her hand, "We need the whole tray. Thank you!"

The server leaves with a befuddled expression on her face while Yoon puts a drink in his hand, "You look like you need it."

Felix knows better that he shouldn't drink tonight and one drink is all he needed. Also, he has something to do tonight that requires him to stay sober.

"You can have them all, Yoon," he says, handing the drink back to her hand.

-

The party is slowly coming to its end with people starting to leave as the night getting late. Felix decides that it's time to ask you if you're also planning to leave soon. He sees that you're still chatting with a few people on the second floor and he's had enough of seeing that guy latched to your side all night.

He gently holds your elbow to get your attention and it works to make you turn your head to him, "Yes?"

Keeping his tone calm, he asks, "People are starting to leave so I wonder—"

"Who is this?" The guy who makes it to the top of his hate list curiously asks.

Your attention is shifted back to him and you smile as you introduce him, "This is my assistant, Lee Felix."

Huh? You even introduce him by his full name like what he has with you is strictly business and nothing else.

Seungmin smiles and offers his hand at him, again, he's not used with rich people acting like decent human compared to normal people.

"Nice to make your acquaintance, Felix," he says to him.

"Me too," he shortly replies, not forgetting to put on a courteous smile as he secretly observes him, trying to get any clues about his personality through his looks.

"So, what were you trying to tell me?" You ask him, turning your body his way and blocking him from his view.

"Just wanting to ask if you're ready to leave," he replies, keeping the conversation private even though Seungmin could hear it with how close he stands next to you.

You look around and see that most of everyone has left, only a few people are still staying for the drinks and the chats, "Maybe in a minute?"

"You know I can give you a lift home and your assistant can go home early," Seungmin offers, putting his drink down in the nearest table.

"No!" Felix surprised himself by hastily answering the question that's not even aimed at him, "I can wait. I don't need to go home."

"You don't to go home?" Seungmin lets out a low chuckle tinted with sarcasm, "You got yourself a loyal assistant."

Felix finds it unacceptable that you join in on the laughter, he feels the need to defend himself that he's not just a mere assistant, he's more than that.

"I'm her assistant and that means she's going home with me," he remarks and regrets it right away for how wrong he worded it.

The radiance on your face dims in a second. You reach for his forearm, holding it and looking him in the eyes as you say, "You can wait for me in the car."

"I can pick you up at the entrance," he blubbers, suddenly feeling like he just shrank into a microscopic size under your stare.

"I said wait for me in the car," you intensely enunciate every word, and he realizes that you just repeated your words which is not a good sign.

"Yes," he hastily responds, then turns away to leave.

Waiting in the car only allowed his thoughts to be louder, Felix finds himself still in denial that you're engaged and he didn't know about it until tonight. Then it all comes back to him, the talk you had with Suze that night and how she told you to 'just marry him' but you said you aren't sure if you want to get married in the first place. If you don't want to marry him, why you smile to him with your eyes crinkled like that?

The pieces of puzzle are slowly coming into place but not enough to show him the whole picture.

Felix is deep in thoughts that he doesn't realize you're getting the door to the car, he's too late to help you getting in and turns his head to check if you're settled in.

"Drive!" You keep your order concise and short, he figures you must be tired and can't wait to get home.

The ride home is quiet and it's not the comfortable kind, it's rather suffocating, he wants to say something but he's afraid of intruding your private space.

You remain quiet even after you arrived home, it makes him hesitate to ask or even speak. Fortunately, he knows where to put your things, he hangs your coat before putting it inside the cloakroom and carefully places your purse on top of the glass table next to the bowl of keys.

Then he realizes that he has to eventually ask you whether you still need him or not, he licks his lips and sets his tone right to ask, "Can I help you with anything else?"

You look at him while carrying your shoes in one hand, "Yes. I need you to come with me."

You don't wait for his answer, you're going to your bedroom and he follows you inside, seeing the bed is neatly made and the room smells of citrus and baby powder, a mix of scents he's greatly familiar with.

"You can sit on the bed while I put my shoes away," you order.

Felix awkwardly walks to your bed and sits on the end of it, waiting for you to come out of your spacious closet. A while later, you finally come out, lifting the hem of your dress as you walk on the carpeted floor.

"What do you think of the party?" You saunter to your vanity with your hands busy unclasping the bracelets on your wrists.

"I think he party went great. Everyone was having fun and happy," he answers, feeling like he's being interrogated despite the simple question.

"And how about you?" You look through the mirror as you remove your earrings.

"Sorry?"

"Did you have fun?"

"I had fun," he shortly answers and hopefully, it sounds convincing enough to you.

"Mmh. Glad to know you had fun," you calmly say, turning away from the table and walk up to him.

A moment passes in silence as you stand therr right in front of him and he's just sitting there, waiting on his fate. Without taking your eyes off him, you reach for the zipper of your dress and pull it down, the ripping sound echoing in the room and building tension in the room.

With overflowing confidence, you take the dress off right in front of him and his breath hitched as you reveal your naked body to him, except for the thin, lacey underwear you're wearing.

"Want to know something?" You place your hands on his shoulders, running them down his shoulder blades to take the suit jacket off of him

He chokes on air as he rushes to answer you, "Y-yeah?"

Slowly, you sit yourself on his lap, naked while he's still fully clothed. You reach for his tie and feel the silky fabric in your hand.

"All night I was thinking of how I'm going to take this tie off of you," you speak so so low it's almost like a whisper.

Felix swallows hard as your lips inches closer to his and your hand is tugging at his tie, "And have you decided how?"

You seductively smile and put your other hand on the nape of his neck, "Oh, I just have so many ideas."

You place a hot kiss on his neck, sending his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat, "But I'll tell you one."

"Uh huh?" He hopes his nod conveys his genuine curiosity to your answer.

Your glide your hand down his front until you find his clothed member, stroking it with your hand just enough to feel him out.

You lean in close to his ear and whisper, "The idea is giving you head and let you cum all over my face."

"I think that's a very nice idea," he says, his voice drops lower than usual.

You nod and lowly giggle, you take his hand to place it on your face, making him touch your lips with his fingers, "Just imagine your cum all over it."

"Yeah..." he breathlessly says.

Your part your mouth open, offering him to insert his thumb inside which he wastes no time doing it. He can feel your tongue twirled around his thumb before sucking at it hard, giving him just enough idea how it would feel like to have his cock in your mouth.

"God, you're so alluring," he gasps, feeling overwhelmed with amazement and desire.

You bring his hand down to your breast, cupping it together as you start grinding on him. It's not hard to make him erect with the way you rub your crotch against his growing bulge.

"I want to feel your cock gets hard in my mouth," you murmur with your hot breathe tickling his ear

His other hand joins in, placing it on the other breast and syncing their movements to knead on them, feeling the ample flesh molds into his hands.

As his hands busy playing with your soft mounds, you work on his tie, patiently untying it and seamlessly pulling it off from the collar of his shirt.

You triumphantly smile and joining him to knead on your breasts, before taking his hands away and put them around his back.

"But the way you acted tonight..." you put his hands together and use the necktie to tie them together, "made me change my mind."

Felix feels tricked but weirdly, he remains still as you bind his hands together behind him and make sure it's strong enough he won't break away from it. However, in a moment like this he finds the bravery to ask, "Is it true that you're enganged?"

Displeased with his defiance, you grab his chin to make him look at you, "I think you're getting way too comfortable with me, don't you think?"

He holds your gaze and fiercely looks deep into your eyes, "So I've been fucking someone's fiancée, huh?" He boldly says with a snarl.

You put more pressure around his chin, your fingers are pressing in on his cheeks and then say, "Shut your fucking mouth!"

This is the first time he ever heard you cursing and somehow, he finds it attractive, arousing even. Surprisingly, he finds himself obeying you, he stops talking and closes his mouth as you ordered him to do.

In return, you slowly let go of his chin and get off his lap, "Now, for your punishment."

You pull your underwear down, going fully naked in front of me and he gets frustrated for not being able to touch you. You hold him by the shoulder and look down at him as you crumple your underwear into a ball and carefully shoves it into his mouth.

"You're going to sit still and take your punishment like a good boy, understand?"

Not being able to speak with a ball of fabric in his mouth, he nods in response.

"You should be thankful that I'm letting you watch," you say with a gentle caress on his cheek and a tender gaze into his eyes.

He nods again as he widens his eyes, eager to see what you're going to do to him. You might have said it punishment but to him, it's a proof that you care for him, because if you didn't, then why would bother punishing him anyway?

"Sit still. Be good," you warn him again as you slowly lowering yourself until you kneel on the floor and sit between his legs.

Felix constantly reminds himself of your warning and lets it be the only thing that fills his head, endlessly echoing in the back of his head. Even though he's not sure how long he can do it as you start working open his belt and unzip his fly.

"Ah..." you let out a delightful sigh the moment you successfully take his member out of its confine.

Felix can't find what's more arousing, the way you wrapped your hand around his cock or how you're slyly smiling at him while you're doing it, or... how he can't do anything but watch you doing all that.

"Have I told you that you have such a pretty cock?" you murmur, using your thumb to play with the tip.

Without looking, he knows that he's blushing from your compliment. You think his cock is attractive and he really needs to unbox that at some point.

"It has the perfect length," you say, lightly trailing the length of his cock with just the tip of your index finger.

"The perfect girth," you continue by putting both of your hands around his cock, rubbing it at two opposite directions.

"A little curved but that's how I like it," you come closer to his crotch, allowing you to rub his cock on your nipples, "With cute pink tip."

It's obvious that he wants you so much yet you keep playing with his cock, teasing it, touching it as you please and rub them in between your breasts. He gets it why it's a punishment, he's being punished for real.

"I've been taking you well, right?"

With the underwear stuffed to his mouth, he answers with a muffled yes and repeated nods.

You softly smile and tip your head to the side, "Do you think I can take you well with my mouth too?"

He hastily responds by repeatedly nodding his head, the need to feel your mouth around him overpowering him, controlling him.

You're batting your eyelashes at him as you say, "Watch closely as I take you in my mouth."

Felix widen his eyes and holds his breath, not wanting to miss any second of it. You firmly hold the base of his cock and you slightly stuck your tongue, then slowly, you put him into your mouth.

His groans turn into muffled whimpers with your underwear that is soaked with his saliva in his mouth. You feel hot and slick and soft around him, it's close to what it feels like being inside you but it offers him a new, different sensation.

He doesn't know how you make your eyes wide and innocent like that as you twirl your tongue around the head of his cock, pressing your tongue onto his slit before taking all of him at once.

No matter how much he wants to keep watching, Felix tilts his head upward and screws his eyes shut, overwhelmed with pleasure.

You may not be able to take all of him in your mouth and compensate the rest with your hand, but oh, that doesn't make it less pleasurable to him. He so badly wants to put his hands in your hair and keep your hair away so he can see the way his cock slips in and out of your mouth.

He can't stop muttering words even though he's aware with your underwear in his mouth.

"Keep going."

"Just like that."

"Please don't stop."

But he tries so hard to make his silent cries are heard, he knows you're using the noises he makes as your guide to please him.

The full length mirror showcases your beautiful figure as you kneel, bending down and continously bobbing your head between his legs, a view that feels like it comes straight out of his wild dreams.

All of a sudden, you abruptly stop when he gets closer to his release but he can safely assume you did it intentionally, it's called a unishment for a reason.

"Not yet," you murmur, slowing your pumping around his cock and use the other hand to tenderly cradle his balls.

His legs are trembling and his whimpers turn breathless, he's on the brink of it but you keep holding him back from plunging into his release.

"You should have thought about it before you acted like a jerk earlier, mmh?" You say with an insinuating tone and one eyebrow raised higher than the other.

He cries his regret while bobbing his head, agreeing to whatever you said because they're all right, you're right and he's wrong, therefore he deserves this punishment.

You get up from the floor and take a seat on his lap again, putting your arms around his shoulders as you look him through your half shut eyes.

"You think you're so hot with your pretty face and your pretty smile," you say in a mocking tone, tugging on the hair on the back of his head.

Then again, he finds it arousing instead of humiliating so he stares back into your eyes, daring you to say more mean things to him.

"You think you're so hot with your smile and your deep voice, mmh?" You press little kisses on the sensitive skin behind his ear.

To provoke you, he nods, agreeing to what you've just said about him. In reaction, you let out a series of chuckles with your hand fisting the collar of his shirt.

"And you think you're going to get what you want with this attitude?"

This is where he's feeling conflicted. A part of him wants to keep rebelling just to see how far he can push you or vice versa but another part of him wants to keep obeying you like a good boy like you asked and he's very well aware how pathetic he is for that.

"Maybe your other head can help you think," you say, holding his cock in your hand again and aims it toward your entrance.

While maintaining eye contact with him, you lower yourself down on him and watch him slowly crumbling under you. The feeling of being buried in your warm, velvety walls change his mind almost immediately.

What Felix wants is simple. He wants you, he wants you so much.

You begin rocking your hips back and forth, slowly yet intensely. Your part his shirt open just enough so you can place kisses all over his neck and chest with your hand feeling the muscles on his abdomen.

He can hear you hold you breath whenever you intentionally clench around him and let out a sigh when you let go, it's all fun and games to you as you enjoy watching him struggles to contain himself.

For him, it's one hell of a torture.

Your mouth inches closer to his ear and he tips his head to the side to give you access to it. You're nibbling on his ear and then lowly whisper, "I must say that I love your voice though."

He looks at you, giving you pleading eyes and hopefully, you'll give him what he wants.

You press your mouth to his ear and continue your sentence, "But only when you're moaning, whining and begging in my ears."

You finally take your underwear that's been gagging his mouth and he can see that it's soaked with his saliva before you drop it to the floor and you don't wait to kiss his open mouth like you've been wanting to do it.

Felix kisses you back as hard as deep, can't believe that he's making it this far without your kisses, it makes him even more thirsty for you, craving for the taste of your lips.

"Are you going to be good now?"

Even though he's able to talk, he nods his head to you instead but it's enough to make you triumphantly smile.

You put your arms around his shoulders as you plant another kiss on his lips while keeping the motion of your hips going, fucking him so good that moans are spilling out of his parted mouth non-stop.

"Are you going to cum for me?" You murmur.

He nods again.

You caress his cheek with your knuckle, "I can't hear you, baby."

That means you demand a verbal answer from him, he gulps air to clear his throat and speaks for the first time in a while, "I want to cum."

You place a long kiss and talk against his lips after, "You forget to say something," you remind him.

Felix knows exactly what you want to hear from him and he wastes not another second to say it.

"Please..." he pleads.

"I want to cum, please," he desperately says again.

As a reward for his obedience, you hold up your breast and put it in his mouth which he enthusiastically takes, he starts sucking on it and not waiting for you to give it to him to switch to the other breast.

You're tightening your hold around him as you pick up the pace, bouncing on his cock faster and faster while he moans with his mouth full of your ample flesh.

"You want me to keep going, yeah?"

"Yes, please, yes," he manages to form a coherent answer despite his brain is barely functioning.

You can sense his high is nearing as his moans turn into low growls but that doesn't stop you from keep going. He takes more of your breast and latches his mouth to it, sucking it at it harder the closer he gets to his release.

For him, it's no longer a punishment when pain and pleasure blur into one.

He lets go of you breast with a loud pop with a string of saliva connecting his lips and your nipple, "I'm so close, so close," he says.

"I know, baby, I know," you coo, putting a little more intensity into your thrusts.

On the first sign of his cock twitching inside you, you hurriedly pull him out and replace it with your hands, continue the stimulations with your hands restlessly pumping his cock.

"Now, cum for me," you encourage him, "Be good and cum a lot for me."

It doesn't take long for him to cum after that, his eyes are tightly shut and low grunts escaping through his gritted teeth as pleasure filling him to the brim and overflowing out of him.

You indulge him with kisses on his neck and lips even though he's still reeling from his high, then reach to the back to let go of the tie around his hands.

Felix sighs in relief as his hands are finally free but you notice his wrists are red and rub hem to soothe it, "Does it hurt?"

He shakes his head and puts his arms around you, pulling you closer to him, "It's okay. I'm okay," he reassures you with a sweet smile.

You smile back as you put your hands around him, leaning in close to sweetly kiss his lips, "We're not engaged. Not anymore."

"Huh?" He is too focused on this blissful moment to even remember the conversation he had with you earlier.

"I broke the engagement," you say again, you hold his face with both hands and briefly kiss his lips, "And I don't want you to question me again."

That's all he needs to know and you don't need to ask whether he believes you or not, because the only person he believes is you and if you say you're not engaged with anyone then that's the only truth there is.

"Thank you for telling me that," he sincerely says as he softly gazes into your eyes.

And just like that, Felix has unlocked a new part of you, a part of you that you don't share with just anyone and that makes him feel special. You make him feel special and things couldn't be better than this.

-

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[xxiiam]

Up to doing an AOT- Levi Ackerman x Scout!Reader smutty one shot ??! Also I keep up with your ao3 series All Mine and LOVEEEE IT. But Attack on Titan has also been living rent free in my headdd ♡♡♡

☆彡 ~ trouble ?

Levi Ackerman x cadet!reader - serious dilf-ish activities

Wc - 1.75k

Fem reader, Levi is peanut butter and extra jelly, Age gap (Levi is in his mid 30s and reader is 19) , reader calls Levi “sir” , lots of spit , sloppy blowjob , m receiving , degradation , Levi calls reader , “cadet” , “brat” , “slut” , “sweetheart” , slapping (face and pussy) , meandom! Levi (with some soft dom inflictions)

Note ~ TYSM FOR LOVING ALL MINE !! I love writing it for all of you guys 🫶🫶🫶 || this has been sitting in my drafts for a good two days so I decided to release it

The whole day during training , you trained near Eren. You even talked with him every so often. Levi watched the pair of you , his same scowl making a very bold statement on his face , “if I see you stop to flirt with Yeager one more time L/N you’ll be on cleaning duty in my office for the next three days” he warned coldly . You screwed your face up , gaze switching from Eren to Levi , “I’m not flirting sir. He was just asking me-” . “So you wanna talk back? Meet me in my office after dinner” he said turning on his heel and observing other people . “Someone’s in troubleeee” Connie teased before being rewarded a slap across the back of the neck from jean .

You opened the door of your captains office after knocking nervously , “you wanted to see me sir?” You said biting down on your bottom lip and walking in front of his desk where he sat finishing his coffee. His cold gaze met yours , “I just have some concerns cadet” . You furrowed your brow , “about what sir?” . “I think you’re being distracted by Yeager . He’s no good for you” . You smiled at your superior, confused , “you called me in here because you think I’m distracted by Eren?” . Levi shook his head , “I know how the younger generation is- sex they all want it, but the guys lack in preforming isn’t that right?” . You stared at him before shaking your head , “I dunno” , “I’m sure you’ve experienced one of these boys. That’s what they are . Boys . You need a man, and I’m tired of seeing the boy you choose be him”

You almost laughed when Levi said this , him talking like this was so out of character for his usually extremely serious tone and workaholic attitude. You walked closer to his desk , “well I’m not seeing any suitors who could show me the difference between a boy and a man” you smiling and batting your eyelashes . He set his cup down sighing - shooting a glare at you . , “on your knees cadet” he said standing up and walking around his desk to you . You stood your ground and remained standing , staring at him with a shit eating grin . Levi always hated when someone disobeyed his orders . He put a firm hand on your shoulder and pushed you down to your knees and slapped you across your cheek , making your head turn to the side . You looked up at him innocently , “listen to me when I tell you to do something brat”

You nodded your head , “yes sir” , “that’s what I like to hear” he said whilst unbuckling his pants and unzipping , his cock pressed against your cheek , he slapped it across your face , “open up” . You decided to obey him , your wet lips wrapping around the tip of his throbbing cock . “Show me how slutty you are for me and NOT a boy” he said between gritted teeth . You removed your lips from his cock and spit into your hand , massaging your spit onto his cock . Your hand stroked his cock lazily , “look up at me sweetheart and put some fuckin’ effort in for me” he said with his hand resting on your cheek softly which was a complete juxtaposition to how he had just previously slapped you.

You applied more pressure whilst stroking your higher up’s cock , you knew you were doing something right since he stopped talking and resorted to soft groans . “I bet Yeager hasn’t seen you look up at him like this has he?” . You couldn’t really reply since your mouth was so full , Levi made it even fuller by pushing your head down . Your nose brushed against the hair above the base of his cock . He held your head down until the tears that had formed in your eyes had become tears rolling down your cheeks , he pushed your head back causing you to breath heavily trying to catch your breath.

His fingers motioned you to stand up even better , he pointed to the edge of his desk, “you want me to bend over the desk?” , he shook his head sternly , “take your pants off and sit . One leg up so they’re spread” . You nodded your head before starting to unbuckle your pants, Levi was far from a patient man when it came to this . “Stop. Just let me do it since you’re so fucking useless” he tutted before practically ripping your pants down and letting you do the rest . You sat on the desk with one leg up like he instructed. Levi’s rough hand traced up and down your slit , he leaned in closer to you . You almost thought he was about to kiss you until a painful slap was brought upon your aching cunt . You whined out of pain , “stop whining.” He said coldly clearly not fazed by your hand clawing at his arm . He was most definitely not fazed since he slapped again . And again . And again . With each slap his hand became increasingly more covered with a slick liquid . He stared down at his hand curious then back at you , “yeah I bet you like that? You like that? So slutty you’ll even like when you’re slapped on your slutty cunt. You’re almost disgusting” .

You bit down on your bottom lip , you clenched around nothing hoping he’d surely give you more pleasure than just slapping at you . Your eyebrows furrowed when you looked up at him desperately, “wondering when I’ll fuck you? Open up” . You stuck your tongue out , mouth opened wide and he did exactly what you thought he would , a large glob of spit fell from his tongue onto yours , “swallow then I’ll fuck you” eagerly you swallowed it all , showing him your clean tongue . He grimaced , “you really are a slut yknow that?” . You nodded , “can you fuck me now please?” . He slapped his cock against your bare cunt , “whyre you trying to give ME orders cadet?” , “sorry sir just impatient” . “Oh I can see that” and with that he slid his bulbous angry red tip into your sopping hole . Then thrusted the rest of his length into you . Not giving you any time to adjust , he didn’t think you’d deserve it .

His calloused and scarred hands gripped at the plush of your thighs , lifting your legs and putting them onto his shoulders as he bullied his cock inside you , “you’re so tight . Clenchin’ down extra hard on your captains dick?” He jeered , you threw your head back in ecstasy . Who would’ve known his dick would’ve been so good despite how short he is? Your moans and whines just couldn’t be contained and Levi made sure to mock you because of it. “Panting like a bitch in heat” he mocked you whilst his thrusts remained consistent and just as mean as him , they were brutal they hit in all the right places at the right speed . He did not dare to falter since he has so much stamina from training so much . You could feel every ridge , every vein . It was all almost too much

But Levi didn’t care if you could take it or not , you were going to take it anyways , Levi didn’t make much noise apart from the occasional grunt or almost moan when you clenched down and throbbed on him after finishing for the nth time , “ I think I’m not gonna cum in you , you don’t deserve it . Your mouth” he said most likely to himself but there was a glint of a grin in his eyes when he saw how disappointed you were when he said he wasn’t gonna cum in you . “Hm. Do you want me to cum inside you sweetheart? You are a slut aren’t you?” He said thrusting in between every word of the sentence. “Tell me how much you want my cum inside you” . Your hands gripped at whatever they could on his desk , your eyes were practically just permanently rolled into the back of your head, “please- sir I wan- need your cum s’ bad..please” you begged as your body shook violently by his relentless thrusts . You didn’t know how many times you finished and neither did he , he cared that he hadn’t yet . He was already overstimulating you for finishing before he said to.

Levi’s hips stuttered for a moment before crashing into yours , it seemed like he was becoming more sloppy , more vocal . “Fuck- you feel so good. So wet and tight f’me aren’t you?” You nodded , “yes sir- jus’ for you” . His hands , gripped harder at your thighs making sure to be able to thrust deeper in you , he bit down on his bottom lip , “ ‘m gonna cum in you, and you’re gonna take it all and not complain- isn’t that right?” He spat . You nodded , not being able to give a real fully formed response . He gave a final grunt before his hips clumsily rolled into yours , his thick ropes of cum staining your insides white.

You both got cleaned up and dressed , before you left his office , he was sat back down on the desk you had previously been fucked on , “you’re not gonna be distracted anymore are you cadet?” . You shook your head , “no sir, can I come back again tomorrow for extra discipline lessons?” He closed his eyes and nodded before waving his hand , motioning you to leave . When you got outside you saw the other cadets standing in shock , jean cleared his throat and spoke up , “we were gonna listen in on you being shouted at by captain. We heard some other noises - what what was that?” . Your face heated up . “It was Eren’s idea” armin said ratting him out . “Eren is just trouble” Connie said shaking his head .

[beyondthesefourwalls]

Remember You Even When I Don't (10)

Summary: A training accident, the doctor had told him. A nasty one that led him here, laying in a hospital bed with a splitting headache and an inability to remember the woman sitting beside him. What he did know, though, was that you were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, and you felt important to him. That, as it turns out, would become an understatement.

Words: 4.0K

Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw/Reader (no use of y/n, so can be read as unnamed oc)

Warnings: angst, hospitals, memory loss, language, suggestive themes, smut

Notes: Thank you to everyone who continues to like, comment, and reblog! They are so unbelievably appreciated.

This was inspired by a one shot by the lovely @roosterforme and would not exist without her assistance. If you haven't read any of her stuff, please check out her masterlist - you won't be disappointed! All of the thanks to her and @mak-32 for being the best cheerleaders and friends I could ask for!

------

Things are different now, or perhaps they’re settling back into being the same. Conversations are more open and that last wall you both had up comes down. Bradley touches you when he wants, now, and you don’t hold back in your affection for him, either. He craves it, craves you, to his very core. He never wants to leave this cocoon that the two of you have created in the two months since his accident, filled with care and comfort and growing together and love. He remembers something his mother told him once, on one of the rare occasions she let herself get sad in front of him while talking about his father. 

“When you know someone is the one, Bradley, you know.” 

He knew it before and he knows it now that that’s who you are to him. The one. It’s everything he never anticipated he would want, this domestic kind of bliss. 

You’re still only working part time and it’s crazy since you’re right upstairs, but he finds himself missing you. He was cleared to go back to administrative duty starting next week and you’ll be going back to full time at the same time that he does. There’s only so much time left before he couldn’t be here to see you during the day, and he’s finding himself capitalizing on every opportunity. 

You smile at him brightly when he appears in the doorway to your office, a fresh cup of coffee in one hand made just the way he knows you like it and a refilled water bottle in the other. The sight of you nearly takes his breath away, sitting cross legged in your office chair in just an oversized sweater that fell to your thighs when you stood and a pair of underwear, your glasses perched on your nose; you must not have had any video meetings today, and that was just fine with him. He sets the water bottle down on your desk and hands you the coffee directly. 

“I thought you might want some more caffeine,” he says. 

“You know I used to dream about this in college.” 

His eyebrows pull together in confusion. “About what?” 

“A tall, handsome man bringing me coffee, of course.” You smirk as you take a long sip, letting out a content sigh when it hits your taste buds. “Perfection, baby. Thank you.” 

Bradley chuckles as he leans down to kiss you. He means for it to be quick, not wanting to completely disrupt your work day, but you hold onto him when he goes to pull away, your mouth opening for him to deepen the kiss. You taste like the flavored creamer he had put in your coffee and he loses himself for a moment. 

He groans when he finally pulls away. You’re so addicting, and he loves you so much. 

“I’ll let you get back to work,” he says reluctantly, pecking your lips one more time before straightening to his full height and turning toward the door. He glances over his shoulder, wanting just one more look at you, and it was a mistake he shouldn’t have made if he intended on leaving. The open look of lust and longing on your face was his undoing. One moment he’s in the doorway and the next he’s scooping you out of your desk chair. A squeak of surprise escapes your lips, but you don’t hesitate to return his kiss. He doesn’t even think before he sweeps aside as many of the items on your desk as he can in one movement. Your keyboard and mouse hit the ground, the coffee he had just gotten you narrowly missing spilling all over them when it crashed to the floor, too. He sets you on top of the newly cleared surface, slotting himself between your legs.

He’s hard already and knows you can feel it when you start pushing your core against his. He categorizes the whine you let out as one of his favorite sounds. He threads his fingers through your hair and tugs, effectively ripping your lips from his so he can suck hot, wet kisses down your neck. 

“This isn’t - isn’t letting me get back - back to work,” you pant. But you’re rubbing yourself against him and when he brings his other hand down between you, he can feel how wet you are through the thin material of your black panties. 

“Want me to stop?” he asks, licking over the spot on your neck that’s certain to have a mark tomorrow. He nips at your jaw on his way back to your lips. 

“Don’t you dare,” you snap, grabbing his face and connecting your mouths again. It’s a clash of tongue and teeth and god, he thinks, you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him for so many reasons. He hisses when you bite down on his bottom lip and he can feel your smirk. It disappears when, with a growl, he yanks you forward. He makes sure your feet are solidly on the ground before he spins you around. Your hands brace against the wood of your desk as he drops to a knee behind you. 

He kisses the back of your thighs before guiding the lace covering your most sensitive area down your legs. He fists the damp material in his hand when he stands back up, flinging them onto the desk beside you. You glance at them before looking over your shoulder at him, pupils blown wide. 

“You see how wet you are for me?” he says, and you nod right away. “Tell me.” 

You gasp at the demand. “Yes. Yes, I see. For you. Just for you.” 

Before he can really process what he’s doing, he’s pulling his hand back, only to bring it forward in a quick, sharp slap to your ass. He freezes immediately, worried at what he had just done, only to hear you let out a loud, drawn out moan. 

“Did you like that?” he asks tentatively, chest heaving, searching his memory for anything he can that would suggest so or otherwise. 

You nod frantically, pushing back into him and pleading, “again.” 

He grits his teeth and brings his hand back. You’re moaning before he even makes contact and the sound goes straight to his already pulsing cock. “Dirty girl,” he groans, spanking you one more time before he pushes his pants and briefs down his legs, kicking them away when they gather at his feet. He doesn’t bother removing his shirt or your sweater. Instead, he grabs your hips and pushes himself into you in one smooth movement. You’re folded over your desk, your computer monitor and pencil cup rattling with every thrust of his hips into yours. He grabs a fistful of your hair and you let him yank your head back, arching yourself to help with the movement. 

“Feels so good,” he whispers harshly into your ear. 

“Bradley!” 

“Can’t believe you’re mine,” he mutters mostly to himself, but with the way you clench around him, he thinks that you heard him. He pulls out and you whine, but he turns you around and lifts you onto the desk again, your butt right on the edge. He slips back into you and you moan together. You claw at his back and he relishes in the brief flash of pain, knowing that you’re marking him, too. 

“Want to see your face when you come for me.” He accentuates the words with a sharp thrust of his hips. You scream for him and he hits that spot inside of you again, knowing you’re as close to the edge as he is. 

“Tell me you love me,” you beg, “please, baby, please.” 

He fulfills the request easily, speaking the words over and over again, knowing that you had gone so long without them; he was all too happy to provide you with the reassurance that he was here, that he remembered his love for you. 

“Come for me, Pumpkin. Come on. Be a good girl for me.” 

You fall apart in his arms, clenching tight enough to make him hiss. He tightens his hold on your hips and absently thinks how you’ll definitely have bruises there tomorrow. The thought only spurs him on more and he chases after his own finish. 

“Fuck!” he yells, his last thrust knocking something else off your desk, but neither of you even flinched. He released into you in thick, hot spurts. Similar to the previous times, you wrapped your legs around his body to keep him from pulling out of you as both of your chests heaved, fighting to catch your breath. 

He pushes your hair out of your face, giving you a tender kiss that almost doesn’t fit the moment, but needing to feel your lips against his again. He can still taste the slightest hint of flavored creamer and can’t help but laugh softly. 

“I owe you another cup of coffee,” he mutters, and the sound of your happy giggle makes his heart race all over again. 

—---------

There’s nothing special about the day that he remembers his accident. He’s loading the dishwasher while you watch a news special you had been excited for, the two of you having just finished up dinner. Then suddenly he’s smelling jet fuel and feeling like the world is caving in on him. 

He can hear you in his peripheral, calling out for him. Your voice is laced with panic, asking what was wrong, but all the other voices in his head are yelling, too. He can hear Phoenix screaming his name, telling him he’s going to burn in. Mav is yelling, demanding that he punch out, eject, eject, eject. Warnings and alarms are blaring throughout the cockpit. 

“Rooster, you need to punch out NOW.” 

He’s trying. He’s trying but the lever isn’t working, and this is different than anything he’s ever experienced. It’s different from the Uranium mission or any other close call that he’s had. 

He’s going to die. 

He knows it as well as he knows his name is Bradley Bradshaw and his parents are Carole and Nick Bradshaw and you’re his wife and he loves you more than life itself, and now he’s going to leave you alone. 

He thinks that he’s crying. He can’t really tell, because all he feels is blind panic and desperation. 

“God damnit Rooster, EJECT!” 

“Please,” he gasps, and he’s pulling, pulling, pulling and nothing is happening. “Please tell her I’m sorry.” 

No one has to ask who he’s referring to. You’re the only one he would be thinking about at this moment.

He thought he wouldn’t be scared of death whenever it finally greeted him. He was used to seeing it all around him from the time he was young. But in this moment, he was more terrified than he could ever remember being. The fear was crippling. He wasn’t ready. There was still so much for him to do; so much for the two of you to do together. He couldn’t leave you. He didn’t want to. 

Please, please, please.  

“I love you,” he cries, even though he knows you couldn’t possibly hear him, and then begging to his team: “Please, tell her I lov-” 

He pulls again, and this time, the canopy flies open, and for a brief, single moment, he’s floating. 

Then he feels pain like he’s never felt before. 

And then he feels nothing at all. 

When he comes back to himself, he’s gasping for air. You have him wrapped in your arms on the kitchen floor, rocking him back and forth almost like a child, and there are tears streaming down both of your faces. 

“I’m sorry,” he gasps, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” 

He’s fighting to grip onto you, his fingers tugging at your shirt and surely stretching the material to try and get closer. His chest is tight, and his head is throbbing and oh, god, he almost left you. 

“Baby, shhh, it’s okay, it’s okay. Take a breath for me, please?” You’re pleading with him, bringing a hand up to run your fingers through his hair as you press kisses into his face. You’re trying to ground him, and he fights to suck in enough air. “You’re okay, it’s okay.” 

You repeat the words over and over again, doing your best to soothe him. He can do nothing but sob against you. He clutches onto you, desperate to feel you against him. He hates what he put you through and what he’s putting you through right now by how he’s reacting, but he can’t bring himself to calm down. It’s like every emotion he’s ever felt is hitting him at one time, slithering up his spine and coiling around his neck until he can barely breathe through how overwhelmed he is. 

“Breathe for me baby. Please, just breathe for me.”

It takes him a few minutes to listen to you, but eventually you’re able to get through to him. The drowning sensation slowly passes and he’s able to get a lungful of air at your encouragement. You hold him tightly the whole time, matching your breaths to his. He nuzzles closer to you, taking comfort in your warmth. Your touch helps him, even as tears continue to slip from his eyes. He can feel your own fall onto his face from where he’s pressed against your chest. 

“You’re okay,” you whisper, your voice cracking as you rock him gently, “I got you.” 

You do, Bradley knows. You’ll always protect and comfort him for as long as he’s here with you. He can’t believe he almost lost this - that he almost left you alone. He trembles again at the thought and you hush him softly. 

You sit there on the floor for several minutes before he finally feels like he can open his eyes. It’s bleary at first, but eventually the room comes into focus. The two of you are surrounded by broken glass. Bradley vaguely remembers dropping the wine glasses in his hands when the memory hit him. When he notices the blood on your leg, he feels himself pale again. 

“Oh God, Pumpkin. Fuck, baby, you’re hurt.” 

He tries to scramble up and away from you, but you hang onto him tightly. 

“I’m okay,” you promise, shaking your head, “it’s fine.” 

But there’s tiny shards embedded in your leg from where you must have crashed to the ground beside him, and he hates the thought that it happened because of him and his inability to control his emotions. 

“You’re bleeding,” he nearly whimpers, but you’re steadfast in your reassurance. Still, though, he can’t stand the sight. “Please, let me help you. I need - please.” 

Your eyes soften at his obvious distress. You must see how much this is hurting him, how much he needs to make sure you’re okay to make himself feel better too, because after a long moment, you give a single nod and loosen your arms around him. He rises from the ground slowly, still not completely steady on his feet, and reaches down to grab your hands and help you up. He’s mindful of the glass around you and when he spots Florry lingering a few feet away, staring at her parents in curiosity, he sighs. He lifts you and gently deposits you on the counter top.

“Two seconds,” he murmurs, grabbing the broom and dustpan from the laundry room and making quick work of sweeping up the glass and disposing of it in the trash can before he has to pick glass out of paws, too. He didn’t think he could handle hurting the both of you tonight, when he feels he’s already hanging on by a thread. 

He grabs the first aid kit from one of the cabinets and returns to you. The breath he takes when he sees the glass is shaky. It’s not deep enough to require a trip to the hospital or stitches, but it still has guilt curling in his stomach. You let him clean you up in silence, and he’s grateful. He picks out the glass carefully, wiping away the blood. When he’s done spreading the ointment and placing the bandaids on those that required them and the first aid kit is tucked back in its place, you say his name quietly. He steps back between your legs from where you sit on the counter, wrapping his arms around you. 

“Talk to me baby,” you request, running one hand up and down his chest while the other tangles in the hair on the back of his head. 

He feels embarrassment crawl under his skin now as he thinks back at it. But he feels that fear all over again, too, and his body trembles against his will. 

Eject, eject, eject. Pulling, pulling, pulling. Nothing. 

“I remembered the accident.” He feels like crying again, the emotions swirling in him. 

You immediately let out a small sound of sympathy, settling your hand over his heart. “Oh, sweetheart.”

“I thought about you,” he tells you, nodding at your wide eyes, needing you to know. “You were all I could think about. I asked - I asked them to make sure you knew I loved you and I was sorry. I needed you to know that.” 

“I do know,” you assure him, cupping his cheek, eyes peering directly into his. “I do.” 

“Even now? When I..when I don’t remember everything?”

“Bradley…”

“I don’t remember the day we got married,” he blurted, “I think you had wildflowers in your hair, but that’s it. I don’t remember what song we danced to or what flavor cake we had. I don’t even remember proposing to you. I don’t - I don’t remember so much, Pumpkin.” 

“Hey,” you soothe, shaking your head, “I-”

“You deserve more than this.” 

“Stop,” you insist firmly. “Do you think you deserve what happened to you? No. Not even a little bit. And does it suck? Yes. It does. But you know what either of us wouldn’t deserve? You giving up. I was terrified when you didn’t remember me that day in the hospital, Bradley. I had never felt such deep, gut wrenching fear. But if there’s one thing I have never questioned, since the day I met you, is how you feel about me, honey. And I - I had to believe that you would make your way back to me. And you did. It doesn’t matter if you don’t remember every single detail, okay? It doesn’t.”

“I love you,” he says, tears slipping down his cheeks freely, unable to contain the emotion of the moment. He loves you so much. He wouldn’t have made it through all of this without you. “I promise. I - I do.” 

He breaks again and you pull him closer, holding him while he holds you right back. You whisper reassurances as you press small, fluttering kisses on his neck and face. He breathes you in, letting your scent and your words and just your overall presence provide him with the comfort he’s still not sure that he’s earned but that you were so insistent that he deserved. 

“I love you so much,” you whisper into his skin. “We’ll make new memories to fill in the blanks, baby. All I need is for you to love me back.” 

______

The sun is shining through the curtains when he wakes up the next morning. You’re a weight tucked into his side, with your hair in his face and your legs draped over his. Your body is deliciously warm against him and he can’t resist tightening his grip around you as he stares down at your face. 

God, you were so beautiful. 

“Mmm, good morning,” you mumble, voice still riddled with sleep. You nuzzle your face further into his chest, your fingers tracing patterns on his midsection. 

“Morning,” he rasps back. He presses a firm kiss into your wild hair. You both lay there, basking in the morning glow, before Bradley eventually disrupts the silence. “You lied to me, you know.”

“Hmm?” 

He’s pretty sure you’re falling back asleep and can’t help the small smirk that tugs at his lips. “I did ask you to dance,” Your fingers stop their tracing, and you pop your head up to meet his eyes with your questioning ones. “At the wedding in Philadelphia the first time we met. You said I didn’t ask you to dance, but I did; just not at the wedding itself. We were in the park on the walk back to the hotel.”

Your eyes widen with every word he speaks and there are tears filling them by the time he finishes. You draw your bottom lip between your teeth, but Bradley reaches up and tugs at it gently, smoothing it over with his thumb. 

“You remember that?” you whisper. 

He can feel dampness in his own eyes, too, and he doesn’t even try to stop it. He had remembered other things, of course. But something about this feels monumental - special, in a way.  

“Yeah,” he nods, his voice clogged with tears. One slips down his cheek and you wipe it away carefully, leaving your hand to rest on his face. “I remember it. I think I fell in love with you that night.” 

You laugh through your tears, nodding your head. “I think I fell in love with you that night, too.” 

“I’m in love with you now. You know that?” 

“I do,” you promise, “And I love you too.” 

He tucks your hair back behind your ear, choking up at how much he really, really does love you, and how amazing it feels for you to love him in return. This wasn’t the way he expected his life to go, either time, but he was almost thankful for the derailment. 

“I want to marry you,” he breathes out.

“We are married,” you quip back.

He gives a watery chuckle, nodding his head. He stretches himself to reach into the drawer of his bedside table, keeping a hand on you the entire time. He finds what he’s looking for easily, sitting right there where he left it the night that you gave it back to him. He hadn’t touched it since, but he had thought about it every single day. 

He adjusts himself so he’s sitting up a little straighter, you doing the same, and you gasp softly when you see his wedding band held between his fingers in the space between you. 

“Again,” he says softly, watching another tear make its way down your cheek. ”I want to marry you again. Do it all over, you know? The ceremony and the vows and the reception and even the honeymoon,” he laughs, shaking his head as the happiness threatens to burst out of his chest at how giddy the thought makes him. “But I think putting this back on will be a good start.” 

He offers you the ring and your hands are shaking as you gently take it from him. He holds out his hand and without any further encouragement, you slip it slowly onto his left ring finger. A tingle goes through his spine as you do. It’s a nice weight against his skin, familiar, not too heavy, and he feels a peace settle over him as you bring his hand to your lips and place a tender kiss against the smooth metal. He can’t resist leaning forward and kissing you. You taste like home, like everything good he’s ever had and will ever have again, and he knows that this is right. 

“How lucky I am,” he whispers, an open look of wonder on his face reflecting back at him in your eyes. He swallows thickly, throat tight with emotion.

“Hmm?”  “How lucky I am,” he repeats, “that I got to fall in love with you twice.”

-----

Bonus Chapter & then Epilogue

Series Masterlist :: Main Masterlist

Notes: Only the epilogue left! Excuse me while I sob.

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[unpublishediary]

You Need to Sleep (Peter Parker)

SYNOPSIS‧₊˚ Peter notices that you are stressed out and not getting enough sleep. He becomes concerned and determined to help them through it. (encouraging and eventually forcing you to sleep.)

INTEREST₊˚ Peter Parker X Reader

WARNINGS(S)‧₊˚ implied insomnia, stress

| masterlist | requests open—(PLS REQUESTT) |

“No coffee run today?” Peter questioned with a smirk as he watched you rush towards him. Usually you beat him to the train stop every morning with a steaming cup in hand.

“Nope,” you ran your fingers through your tangled hair, slightly annoyed that you didn't have time to brush it before leaving, “I slept through my alarm.”

“That’s unusual for you,” Peter joked, but his face fell, noticing that your usual enthusiasm wasn’t there, “hey you ok?”

“Yeah,” you looked at him, but it seemed that your mind wasn’t completely there, “just an off morning.”

He thought for a bit, “how about this,” he spoke up, “next time text me and I’ll grab something for you.”

You gave him a tired smile as the train approached in your peripheral vision, “you don’t need to do that.”

He nudged you with his side, smiling back at you, “I know.”

As the week went on, Peter beat you to the stop every day. Each time, you looked more and more worn out and still didn’t bring the familiar coffee cup he’d gotten used to seeing.

The first couple days he noticed your tiredness, he thought it was because of the absence of caffeine, but on the fifth day he beat you to the stop, he knew it had to be more than that.

“I know you didn’t ask, but I stopped by and got you this.” Peter’s arm was extended towards you with a coffee cup from the cafe you haven't been able to visit in awhile. He slightly wondered why you never texted him to grab something after he offered.

Confusion was still apparent through your tired features, “For me?”

His face turned red, “Yeah, I walked by and figured you would want something too.” That was a slight lie, because he woke up earlier on purpose to find the shop you visited.

You looked down to see another cup in his hand, and took the cup he held out to you, “thank you Peter, it means a lot.”

He nodded but he wanted to bring up what he’d been noticing lately. “Have you— um, have you been getting enough sleep?” The hesitation was apparent in his voice, “you just seem more tired lately.” His concern increased when he would see you fall asleep in class.

The last couple days you had been more tired than usual. The stress you put on yourself to manage both work and extracurriculars while keeping your grades up caught up to you. Sleep became a sacrifice in order to keep up. “To be honest I need to sleep more, but with so much to do it feels impossible.”

Peter knew that feeling, sometimes managing everything along with his other identity felt overwhelming. Seeing your energy drain day by day made him feel bad, he never wanted that for you and he wished he could lift all the weight off your shoulders.

That night after patrolling, Peter found himself knocking on your window. He could see you at your desk lit up by the faint glow of your lamp, reading the book your English teacher gave both of you that week to finish.

He knocked again but you didn’t look up, almost like you were stuck in a trance… or asleep? He would’ve left you there if you were in your bed, but the position you were in looked majorly uncomfortable.

Peter was careful to open the window and walk over to you as quietly as he could. “Hey,” he whispered, touching your shoulder, “Hey it’s time to go to your bed.” You were leaned over on your desk, one hand propping up your head. He shook you a little more and you shot up. “It’s ok, it's just me.” He let out a rushed whisper knowing he scared you, “I just wanted you to sleep comfortably.”

You looked around confused for a second until your gaze fell onto your clock, “No,” you let out, standing up to find your backpack, “no no no I fell asleep?” You had so much to do and you were more behind because you decided to ‘rest your eyes’ in the middle of reading.

“You can do it tomorrow,” Peter insisted, he didn’t like the way you seemed to panic about stopping to rest, “you need to sleep.”

“I can sleep after I’m finished with—”

Peter grabbed your shoulders so you would stop. Looking into your eyes, he repeated himself again, this time slowly. “You need to sleep,” he enunciated each word hoping you would understand that keeping yourself up wasn't healthy and that you needed to stop and take a break.

You shook your head, “Peter—”

He didn’t give up, knowing you wouldn’t rest until you did something else productive, he came up with an idea.

You were confused when he took the book off the desk and pulled you along with him across the bedroom. After throwing the book on your bed, he took off his suit and got into your bed, “come on,” he patted the empty space near him.

You lazily slid under the covers next to him, and he opened the book to where you previously had the bookmark.

“Where did you leave off?” His fingers brushed down the page, “Here?” He asked, brushing his fingers through your hair. Once you nodded, he started to read to you with your head on his chest.

Every time he flipped a page, he looked down to see if you were sleeping. With drooping eyelids he could tell you were trying hard to stay awake, but after a while he sensed your slowing heartbeat and quieted breathing. As he drifted off to sleep with you, he decided that tomorrow’s coffee run would be his treat.

masterlist <— for more like this

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[reqxxyt]

coffee m.s

[unedited]

this sweetheart needs more appreciation <3 requests are open !

pairings: mick s. x f!reader

warnings: none (i think??) except for rushed ending....

masterlist

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

This had to be a nightmare. The only way to justify this scenario. Toto, my boss had asked a simple thing this morning, like every other day: coffee freshly brewed from the local coffee shop that he claimed to be the best because according to him “there is a big difference between rich flavorful coffee and one that tastes like burnt shit”. 

This morning had started like any other; wake up, get ready, head to the coffee shop, wait patiently (considering the line can get very long), and finally head to the office to hand in the coffee to Toto before finalizing plans with one of his many assistants. I hadn’t anticipated the line to lead to the end of the shop, way longer than usual.

That's fine, I can just wait a  bit longer. Shouldn’t be a big deal. I thought to myself before I finally realized after nearly 15 minutes passing. I wasn’t going to make it in time and I had just finished ordering his custom drink. My leg started to bounce, in anticipation as I made a timeline in my head, calculating how long it would take from here to the office barely going over the speed limit (with hopefully no traffic). 

They called my order and I thanked them before quickly leaving. The ride wasn’t completely terrible, just a few people who shouldn’t have a license cutting in front of me. I glanced at the clock in my car, showing I was already 10 minutes late. Crying internally, I exited the car with the hot coffee gripped in my hand. 

“Y/n, you’re unusually late,” one of the desk ladies said with fake concern hiding back her smirk. I only turned to her for a second ready to make a remark or witty comeback but before I could even get a word out I felt another body come into contact with my own, sending the hot flavorfully rich coffee forward. 

Apologies were said before I could even get a glance at who exactly I was trying to help with dainty napkins. “It’s fine” was the voice that made me  finally look up, feeling the most embarrassed. 

Mick Schumacher. 

The guy I had been crushing on since I was first employed. I froze before finally remembering that he had made contact with hot coffee. Coffee; a very hot liquid that could cause third-degree burns. I mentally cursed at myself before apologizing frantically. 

Before I could suggest, he took off his white t-shirt taking the napkins from my hand, still trying to reassure me that it was fine. But no matter how hard he tried, I would glance at his face and internally feel terrible seeing the wincing pain he was experiencing. 

“You should probably get that checked” I informed, still trying to help. He only made eye contact with me for a split second, mumbling an agreement. 

Footsteps were heard from behind me and I glanced behind me, spotting the last person I wanted to see. 

“Should I not be witnessing this?” he asked, staring down at the shirtless Mick. My cheeks burned bright red at the thought of that ever happening and we both said

“It’s not what it looks like” I picked up the empty cup of coffee and he made a face of understanding before finally giving me a death glare and handing back the cup. 

“Get me another one. I’ll send someone to clean this up” he blankly stated before walking away not sparing another glance. 

I  was ready to apologize again to the still shirtless Mick who stood beside me before he interrupted me “You want my forgiveness?”

I gave him a confused look, about to ask a simple question that started with a w and ended with an “aht” but he choose to interrupt me again offering me a deal. “Buy me coffee, not today. Saturday maybe?” 

This sounded too much like a date. Too good to be true. Again, confused I asked “What?” without being interrupted. 

“Go on a date with me. This Saturday. Then I’ll forgive you, of course, you’re paying” he shrugged and I finally understood. 

He clearly just wanted free coffee after I had nearly sent him to the hospital. 

“To be honest, I’ve liked you for a while just never got the chance to ask you out. Now I do” what. 

Of course, I agreed, trying to be the most chill meanwhile internally I had contemplated if I was dreaming. 

Best nightmare I’ve ever had.

[writingpei]

felix | 필릭스: soulmates

when your friends from college were shocked to discover that you had never, ever been attracted to anyone you've met before, you realized that maybe there was something wrong with you.

you hadn't lied. you were out at night, a couple drinks in your system, and when they looked at you with wide eyes and itchy throats from so many questions, you were taken aback.

“not even when you were much younger?”

no.

“but what about high school? everyone gets a crush in high school!”

the last thing you thought about in high school was romance, not because you forbade yourself from it, but because it never crossed your mind at all.

“not even in college? this is crazy…”

much less in college. work was piling up on your desk, and you didn't even have time to sleep properly, let alone pay attention to someone else.

that conversation haunted your mind for many days. you had never thought much about your (non-existent) love life, and how weird and abnormal it seemed to those around you, an anomaly in the form of a person.

the hustle and bustle of the city was overwhelming, but it was just another day for you. your head was down, avoiding unnecessary conversations with anyone, those conversations roamed your mind for many days.

the path to your regular coffee shop where you always got a latte was already memorized in your head, taking the same path and stepping where you always stepped every day.

your head was full, and minho seems to have realized that days before he actually asked you anything.

“what is wrong with you these days?” he asked in his usual tone of voice, sassiness escaping his lips as his hands worked quickly to make your order.

minho was your barista, he had always made your coffee since the day you first stepped inside the place, a few months before.

“i’m very, very confused” you confessed, sitting on the stool at the counter, on the opposite side of him.

“about what?” he asked, sliding the warm cup with the good smell that always brings you comfort and the fog that rises from it.

“is never being attracted to absolutely anyone i've ever met normal?” you asked quietly and looked around quickly to see if anyone had noticed.

minho stops for a few seconds and blinks, deep in his thoughts.

“i don't know. how old are you, twelve?” you roll your eyes as soon as he says this, throwing your arms up on the counter and sighing.

“20…” you whisper back, putting your hands over your face to hide the shame gnawing at you.

“oh” he says, and even without seeing him, you can tell he's holding back a smile. “that’s… that’s different”

“is it weird?” you ask, desperately wishing he'd say no, but when you take your hands from your face and see him, his slouched posture propping himself up with his elbows on the counter, you know he's going against what you expect.

“kinda, yeah” he replies. “but have you really, really never been attracted to anyone at all? no one ever stood out to you?”

it is then that the brown hair you know so well appears in your memory. cheeks washed by a sea of ​​freckles and red lips you could never escape.

you are in an almost state of shock for a few seconds, mind completely dominated by the inherent figure of the boy inside your memory.

“have you thought of anyone?” minho questions, but even with open eyes, you can't see him. it was like you were in a trance, coming to a conclusion you definitely didn't want to come to, feeling your heart beat faster for something you didn't want it to.

“hum” you begin, trying to pull yourself together within reality. “if you thought what i asked you was weird… this is even weirder…”

“minho!” someone behind the counter calls out to you loudly, taking their attention away from you.

“what is it, jisung?” he asks, already irritated.

“we have more orders, you need to help me” the dark haired boy complains, steaming some milk nervously.

“can’t you see i’m busy right here?” minho retorts, offended frown etched on his face. “go on, i’m free to listen”

“um…” you look at him and then at the boy who was now making shots of espresso at a speed you couldn't imagine was possible. “sure…” you says uncertainly, then taking a deep breath and thinking about where to start. “there is this guy”

when you suddenly stop talking, minho approaches with his arms on the counter, as if you're telling him a secret.

"ok…?" he encourages you to continue.

“i know him since i was a kid”

“wow, that’s cute” minho says, putting his face in his hands. “like a puppy love or something?”

“no, no” you say. “i… i never met him, like, ever”

minho is visibly confused again, eyebrows rising.

"what do you mean?"

“i’ve never met him in my life”

“but that’s not possible. how do you know him then?”

“through my dreams” you try to explain yourself, but the words being said out loud make you extremely self-contious and realize the craziness that was spewing from your mouth.

after a few seconds of silence and awkward looks, minho finally responds. “well, that’s unusual”

“don’t you think i’m weird?” you ask, taken aback by his lack of reaction.

“because of this? not much. because of the amount of sugar you put on your coffee sometimes? hell yeah”

“i really like sweets…” you slump back in your chair and he just crosses his arms, rolling his eyes slightly.

“tell me more about this guy of your dreams. what's he like?" minho's interest had images of the boy popping into your head so quickly you felt dizzy.

the shy smile that appeared on his pink lips, the low voice when he spoke to everyone, the false and treacherous memory of his house, his bedroom, his school, his clothes.

his name was felix, and you don't remember exactly when or why you started dreaming about him every night, but you know it was when you were very young.

he lived with his grandmother in a large but simple house in the middle of an open field, and he had to walk a long way on a completely empty road to get to school. he was shy but not aloof; he cared too much about everything, actually.

the dreams were very strange, it was like you entered his body and lived in his skin. the warm sweatshirts he liked to wear warmed you up, and his grandma's food that was so delicious that it seemed too real to be just a dream, coming from your imagination. you soon found out that he had the same birthday as you, and every year the dream of that night was the most awaited one, the taste of the birthday cake his grandmother always made became a concrete memory in your head.

by your teenage years, you thought you were going crazy. he could only be a figment of your brain. you never told your parents out of shame, it was like those imaginary friends you have when you are a kid, but yours appeared too late in your life. it didn't make any sense, the dreams were extremely real, the feelings too. you never managed to talk to him, because it was in him that you resided, inside his body and his mind, in an unbelievably strong connection. you tried several times to write small messages in notebooks or walls that you were trying to channel everything you wanted to say, but in the next day's dream, their presence had already been erased, washed away by time.

the moment things took a different turn and you were sure it was real was when a communication began to exist between the two of you. well, sort of, at least. it all started when you woke up one day with tears running like waterfalls down your cheeks, a huge heart ache. you couldn't understand what was going on and what had upset you so much, having just woken up from a dream, but the feeling was so raw and present that it couldn't be anything. he had to be sad and it canalized on you too.

it went on. at completely random times of the day, you would feel an intense urge to laugh, cry, smile, sleep. it was as if his strongest feelings crossed a threshold and flew straight to you.

it wasn't uncommon for dreams you had just sitting in front of a mirror, staring at felix's complex. your fingertips tentatively touching everywhere on his face, feeling the soft, delicate skin beneath your skin. the constellation of freckels on his cheeks made something inside you bubble.

with time you decided to let it go. the strange feeling that consumed you every time you saw him or thought about him started to scare you, that's why lately you refrained from looking in any mirror during the dreams, and also avoided talking, not wanting the thick and deep voice to reach your ears more than it should. you tended to pull away from him even if he didn't know it. whenever you woke up, you tried to keep your mind off felix's memory as much as you could.

that's why you never considered looking for him. the burning fear that maybe he really didn't exist always scared away the idea of ​​looking for him. you knew where he lived, where he studied, you knew everything he liked from the posters spread across the walls, the books in his shelves, and the video games in his room. but you also knew that you couldn't bear the weight of the truth of knowing that he wasn't real, that the boy never existed, so you closed yourself off from him, starting to sleep less every day so that your dreams would be cut short, and that's how you met minho, the need for coffee that entered your life from the exhaustion and fear that dominated you.

“he, well… he's…” you started to say, but couldn't finish, intending not to let your mind linger on him any longer than it should. “better let it go, minho. guess I'll be a weirdo forever then"

minho sighs and walks over to the pastries counter, pulling out a cookie and holding it out to you.

“take it here,” he says, and you take it from him reluctantly.

“are you feeling sorry for me?” you ask, feeling slightly offended.

“no, definitely not…” he trails off, but you know he's lying.

“thanks for the free cookie” you shrug, biting into the candy.

“anytime” he answers and starts making espressos.

in the following days after this conversation the world appeared to be moving in slow motion. the clouds hung low in the gray sky as if they were weighed down by the heaviness of the gloomy days. the dreams were brief and impersonal as you were sleeping less and less. all you wanted was to be able to escape his life, the deep feelings that invaded your heart without your permission, the melancholic hue of the days that passed slowly.

that was a day like any other, classes were endless and you felt a sense of lethargy settle over your head like a heavy and slow clock. all you wanted was to get back to the comfort of your own home, but when the teacher asked for a few more minutes after class to explain an assignment, you knew you were going to miss the subway.

when class finally ended, your steps were dashed down the street, heavy drops of rain hitting your skin until you found shelter inside the subway tunnels, running to catch the one that was coming. your luck was clouded like the weather outside, the sound of rain echoing like an endless song.

your effort was in vain, as when you arrived the train had its doors closed, the sound of metal on metal emerging as it began to move. a weight was somehow lifted off your shoulders, a sense of being a spectator, watching the world move around you without really being a part of it.

everything suddenly went quiet, and your eyes were unconsciously drawn inside the train, when you see a pair of eyes you never imagined you would see.

your heart raced and burned in your chest as his eyes lock with yours. you feel unable to move or breath, dizziness taking over your body. in that moment, it was as if time stood still and all that existed was the two of you. he seems to have been surprised as much as you, but he wasn't frozen, on the contrary, he took steps to get closer to the train window, but it was too late. the starting noise became deafening, and it felt like it was being pulled away from you.

maybe you were imagining things, the lack of good nights sleep finally catching up to you making you hallucinate. your mind raced with questions and your emotion were a jumbled mess. you couldn't get your mind off his brown hair that he started to grow out, or his cheeks adorably rosy and covered in freckles, his favorite gray sweater that looked more comfortable and handsome than ever, seen on his body.

when the train passes again after a few wasted minutes, you have to force yourself out of the seat and onto it before you miss this one too. the drive home is consumed by a stunned silence, and you think you've finally lost your mind.

when you leave the station, the rain starts to wet you quickly doesn't bother you. you're too in shock to worry about getting soaked, and now more than ever you want to get back to the safety and comfort of your home.

out of nowhere, the rain stops all over your skin and a shadow looms over your head. being pulled out of your thoughts, your gaze rises to see an unfamiliar umbrella being held over your head, and when you turn your back to see who was protecting you from the rain, your thoughts almost gave out.

it was one thing to see felix in the mirror, through a filter, a thin line that separates what is possible and what is not. it's another thing to see him so close, this time inside his own body. he blinks at you several times, as if trying to check if he's seeing correctly or not.

“excuse me, um…” he starts to say and scratches the back of his head with his free hand. his deep voice cuts through your chest like a blade, that velvety voice that has sent a shiver down your spine more times than you can remember. “i know this might sound crazy, but have we met before?” he asks, but you don't answer, you can't. it's like your lips are glued together. “in my dreams, i mean” he explains.

his big, hopeful eyes wait for an answer, he unconsciously leans in closer to look at you more closely. you give in to your instincts however and your fingertips fly out to touch him on the cheek, the familiar soft skin coming into contact with your skin.

the truth of his existence is overwhelming, and you can't stop the tears shyly welling up in your eyes. “you're real…” is the only thing you manage to get out, and your other hand comes up to his face, cupping his cheeks.

a look of relief appears on her delicate features, and he snuggles into her touch.

“you're real. i cant believe it. I've dreamed about you my whole life,” you whisper to him, voice muffled by the raindrops hitting the umbrella over your head.

“i never thought i'd actually find you in real life, it's surreal” he speaks softly too, a smile that wasn't able to be repressed appearing on his lips. “i came looking for you here because i remembered your address from the dreams. i also dreamed of you my whole life, i just… i just couldn’t keep imagining you and not being able to see you in front of me”

discreet tears run lightly down your face, and he gives you a weak smile.

"it's like all the pieces of the puzzle are finally falling into place" he says, placing his free hand on your cheek the same way you placed it on his earlier. "i don't know how to explain it, but being near you feels like coming home"

you finally crack a big smile in his direction, and you could have sworn you saw his eyes light up with it.

“i feel the same” you say, and the feeling of the rain hitting your face quickly appears.

felix lets go of the umbrella that was in his hand and snakes his arms around your waist, pulling you into a warm, tight hug.

“that's nice” he whispers in your ear, and you don't hesitate to hug him back. “because to me it feels like all my dreams came through”

skz as romantic tropes masterlist

taglist: @leeknowinggg @vumiixlyy

[txtmetonight]

Ms. (?)

call summary ⋆ ★ you and yeonjun since high school have had major rivalry. now you two are teachers at the same school, and your fiery bond hasn’t broken yet. but the other teachers and students make you guys the hottest ship in school. so…what’s next?

pairings *. * yeonjun x fem! reader

genre ⋆ ★ fluff, enemies to lovers (?) dunno its a little complicated, coworkers to lovers (?) again confusing...you'll see once you finish it, oneshot

warnings *. * a bit of cursing (just a pinch) :/, alcohol, a tinge of insults, bad grammar (english isn't my first language 💀 and Grammarly sucks)

featuring ⋆ ★ chaewon, taehyun, felix

call duration *. * 3.4K

It was no big secret to the whole school about the immense tension between the sweet 10th-grade Math and Science teacher and the handsome music professor that almost every high schooler (whether you were a girl or not) drooled over. You and Mr. Choi's (aka Yeonjun) relationship with each other were rather tense and complicated. You’ve known Yeonjun ever since he overtook your place in the spelling bee in High school, spelling ubiquitous right, and ending it with a humongous, ludicrous, smirk sent towards your face. And once you graduated High school with high credits that got you into a prestigious college to receive your bachelor's degree, you thought that you would never see his stupid face again. But imagine your surprise when the same face you’ve hated for years walked through the building doors, ready to greet you in front of your new classroom, the same smug smile on his face. 

“You’ve worked in this school for four years, yet you still don’t know how to properly use the printer, do you even qualify as a teacher Mrs. (L/n)?” You grit your teeth in annoyance, instead focusing on the papers that spit your worksheets for your lovely kids. “No comment?” Yeonjun jokes, pushing around you to grab his own stack of papers, yet furrowing his eyebrows once he notices that the papers he printed out were filled blank. No ink or anything, just plain white copy papers looking like they came straight from out of a newly opened pack. “Um” He tries to turn his body so you wouldn’t notice his stupid mistake but you catch on right away loudly snickering. “I think you forgot to press the side button, again” You grab your papers swiftly before quickly sticking your tongue out once his back was turned and rushing out as fast as possible towards your classroom. Composing yourself, you stick your head into your room to watch Ms. Kim who was playing hangman with your class. 

“Nope, there’s no- oops your teacher’s back” She stays seated in your chair, completing the word she was thinking about while you stride towards your desk, the class filled with groans and gasps once the expo marker marks the last letter, spelling out your first name. You notice but don’t bother as Chaewon snickers, getting up so you could whisper your gratefulness in her ear. “Thank you, god, I already feel a headache coming on” you whine all while she understandingly pats you back before a devilish smile comes upon her cunning face. “Was it because of Yeonjun…you know I saw him hurriedly running after you while you were walking towards the printer room”. You sigh and instead glare at her giggling figure, you’d prefer not to feed into her mindless delusions. She takes the hint and opts to stride out of the classroom, of course not before butting her head back in for a final goodbye “Alright then, don’t give your teacher a hard time” Chaewon finally leaves with a flourish and you could probably guess where she was heading next, ready to prey on her next cup of coffee. Which leaves you to turn back to your kids to teach.

“So who’s ready for more Quadratic Functions” you smile (still stuck on your friend’s comment earlier about Yeonjun following you), and the class breaks out in another round of cries, some even begging you to not pass out those papers in your hands.

______________________________________________________________

“Ms. (L/n)?”

You turn around to face another of your co-worker, who taught the 9th graders, just a hall over, though it was quite surprising to see him in the breakroom. “Mr. Lee, how may I help you?” you ask, politely smiling at the man who flashes a cheerful grin. “You know, it’s ok to call me Felix…I’m pretty sure you call Mr. Choi, Yeonjun, right?” The mood was a little awkward as you shuffled around quietly nodding a brisk okay and sorry, before he brushed it off with a loud chuckle. “Your classroom?”. You were hoping that you actually reminded him about his own kids to teach since he was spending so much unnecessary time with you, secretly wishing that he could leave you alone so you could eat your lunch. “We have a guest speaker who told me she could take over everything and that she was going to be fine on her own”. By now you were practically rolling on the heels of your feet, praying for any distraction of some sort. And it seems your quick prayers may have been answered because in came Choi Yeonjun with his own bento, confusedly staring at you and Felix then noticing the big empty and supposedly the best spot in the whole break room, which you were gonna sit in. 

This idiot better not. 

You clench your hands, watching the arrogant man take your place before being brought back to reality by a small cough, totally forgetting that Felix was in front of you. “Um so…I was wondering if you could- or wanted to eat dinner with me tomorrow, of course, no problem if not” He looks at your wide eyes while trying to gulp his nervousness away. “A date?” you point towards yourself, both you and Felix unaware of the angry eyes watching you two. Yeonjun looked like a ripe tomato that was gonna explode. The blonde in front of you sucks through his teeth, letting out a small exhale. “Yep” Ok now, Yeonjun was furious and one half of him wanted to confront and stop the interaction and the other wanted to stay put and see what you would do. So he decides the latter, beginning to forget his lunch and instead spreading his legs to lean back on the couch, staring intently. “You’re a great man,  but I don’t think I’m the one for you” You somehow get your words out, carefully picking them as they slip out of your tongue. “How can you be so sure about the future, when you’ve never ever even gone on a date with me before” You swallow hard, senses running all over the place, and his pitiful face definitely didn’t help. “I’m already dating someone” Your whisper was loud enough for Yeonjun to hear, making him sit upright eyebrows raised. 

This was new.

Felix looks taken aback, mouth pouting in shock. “Is that so? you should’ve told me the first time, then I wouldn’t have bothered you anymore” He bows down, ashamed of his actions. “Oh no, you’ve done nothing wrong, but please don’t tell this to anyone” Smiling he nods embarrassedly before gesturing that he was gonna stay quiet. “Have a great day!” he sheepishly skips out of the classroom and you continue waving, keeping the simple grin, it falling down right as his body was out of sight. 

“You’re dating someone?” 

Shit

You forgot that Yeonjun was in the room with you guys, tuning into your guy’s conversation. “Were you eavesdropping on us?” You already knew the answer. “It’s not eavesdropping if it was loud enough for me to hear, so are you actually dating someone?” He finally spoons a piece of his chicken in his mouth, though it was a bit weird that he actually started eating after you took your first bite out of your pizza from last night. Tired of his antics you decide to play along a little, nodding and smiling a little, a loud gasp led out by the male who was surprised by your confession. “Is he cute, or even good enough for you?” Yeonjun grumbles. You glance towards him with a huge grin “Yep he’s perfect…but don’t tell anyone though, keep it a secret between the both of us and I guess Mr. Lee” He continues to stare at you before turning back towards his meal, ears hinted with a tinge of red. The rest of the 15 minutes was quiet, except for a few bickers on the best sauce to go on a salad and the worst football team. It was almost the end of the period where you were finishing up your drink, smiling against the straw while your eyes peered at Yeonjun as he kept defending his point that when he was so into the discussion, his lidded eyes gaze at you, practically sending you into a cardiac arrest, leading you to accidentally swallow the drink through the wrong hole. 

And after Yeonjun notices he blanks out, panicking along with you. “Oh my god, are you okay!?” ‘Does it look like I’m okay’ you try to rasp but instead, you cough even more. He goes to kneel down next to you on the couch, slowly rubbing in circles into your back to calm you down and it works! Instead of full-on choking, you were left with little splutters in your throat. “Here drink some water, and try not to choke again” he grins, handing you his water bottle which you gratefully take. Taking your fill of water, you notice the close proximity between you and Yeonjun, and you could feel the red slithering up your back and neck while you turn towards him to give him your thanks. “Thank you” God your noses were basically touching, and at school too! You’ve never been this close in your guys’ workplace so it sent a shiver of butterflies down your spine. “You're welcome” He breaths and right when he looked like he was coming closer the bell rang sending you two flying apart. 

“Oh, Mr. Choi and Ms. (L/n)!” Both pairs of eyes shoot towards the unexpected intruder and you relax once you notice that it was Chaewon, her red lips tugged at the corners. “Ms. Kim '' Yeonjun immediately gets up to bow and you quickly follow, a little flustered about how your friends caught you and your coworker so close together. “I’ll take my leave, my 4th-period students are probably at my door…Mrs. (L/n), you didn’t forget about the staff meeting after school right?” He lifts his eyebrows at your gasp, entertained while watching you dive for your phone and open up your calendar. And there it was, your little reminder on how you were scheduled to overtime and drive all the way home and then back to a bar so you could catch up with your other workmates, all arranged by the principal. You take a look at Chaewon who also pulled her phone out, shrugging once she met your gaze before erupting in a small laugh. “Of course, you forgot, I thought Math and Science teachers were supposed to be smart, I guess not” He looks you up and down, letting out his squeaky laughs as he grabs his water bottle and bento, your face was frozen in shock and offense. “Bye Mrs. (L/n), Ms. Kim” He bows once more towards Chaewon and spares you a look before walking away. 

“The fucking nerve of that guy, you saw him!” She hurries towards you, slapping her hand over your mouth, not letting you speak another word. You look at her, a little startled as she pats your cheek gently. “Don’t get too ahead of yourself, you need to go back to class Ms. (L/n)” She still holds your cheeks, her other hand moving your chin up and down to nod at her words. Her hands give you back your lunchbox, pushing you out of the room. “Your kids must be waiting for you, go back before they scribble something on the board again” She waves a goodbye while you cringe, agreeing with her, leading you to fast walk back to your classroom. The last time you were late to your class, the whiteboard was filled with little doodles of you and Yeonjun, each picture demonstrating romantic actions, and they had their own little actions too. The kids knew very much about the cute (in your words revolting) atmosphere that you two teachers had. And they took advantage of it. Some of the lockers were filled with small drawings of yours and his initials in a heart. Yeonjun once even got a love note that had your name on it, which he still teases you about to this day. The birth of a ship name of you two was even made and is still stuck on a water fountain in the 11th-grade hallway. But by the time you got to your classroom, you knew you were too late. The board was already filled to the brim. 

______________________________________________________________

The bar was packed with customers and through the window you tried to spy your own group, which wasn’t too hard to find. All you had to look for was a shiny bald head that belonged to your boss. Almost everyone was there already, including Chaewon who looked like she was going to die from boredom. “You’re not going in?” You turn around to face Yeonjun who was pocketing his keys. You smirk, “Nope, was waiting for you, ladies first” He rolls his eyes playfully, yet taking your offer to lead the both of you into the bar. “Haha you're so funny” You follow him through the door which you held for him, awkwardly standing next to him, watching your group. “I know”. Waving back at Chaewon, Yeonjun and you stride towards the table. “Oh my, Yeonjun and (Y/n), you’re here, we thought you’d never come” The principal slurs his words, all while checking you up and down which you grimace in disgust. “Come here (Y/n), sit next to me” Mr Park lazily smiles, pointing to the empty spot next to him (which was forcefully cleared by him). You try to refuse but before you could get a word out, Yeonjun had already sat there. “Yeonjun?!” The man exclaims, ready to scold him out. “Sorry sir, but I’m deathly allergic to shrimp and rather not sit there” Yeonjun responds, slightly dipping his head in respect. The only open seat had fried spicy shrimp next to it. “Oh is that so, that’s fine I guess” Mr Park, slumps his cheek onto his palm, staring at you take the seat across from Yeonjun and next to Chaewon who hugs you excitedly. You knew that Yeonjun was lying and for a fact was definitely not allergic to any types of seafood, but you were extremely thankful. 

“Here Yeonjun, drink” Mr. Kang pushes him a glass, but Yeonjun refuses. “I’m not drinking tonight, I have to drive back home”. Taehyun nods before turning to you, offering a drink, and you accept the glass, the bright boy (Currently a student teacher) pouring you the liquid. Conversations rise and die down but there was a lot of chattering at your table. As the night progressed so did your face, turning red and red from the amount of alcohol you were downing. Everything around seemed blank and normal until Mr. Park brought up a futile question. “I’ve noticed that Yeonjun and (Y/n) always go home together and always arrive at the same time in the morning, has anyone noticed that?”. You and Yeonjun stop breathing in shock, even more, stupefied at the murmurs of agreement that arise from your co-workers. “W-we just have the same routes, that’s all” Yeonjun stutters, his black hair sticking to his face, chewing on his lips nervously.

“(Y/n)?” Chaewon shakes you out of your ogle towards Yeonjun, who was staring back at you too, eyes flitting the entirety of your flushed face. “Yeah, he’s right, in fact, me and Yeonjun have a bus to catch, we should go”. You try to stand up but the drinks coursing through your veins makes you stumble, the world around you spinning. “I thought Yeonjun was driving? He could stay a little longer” A 9th-grade teacher pipes up, a lovesick look on her face as she looks at the man. Though instead of reciprocating her look and lightly clears up his throat before sending a formal smile towards everyone. “I have to wake up early in the morning tomorrow, it’d be better to go now”. Usually, no one would believe that very obvious lie but they let it slide, their minds under the influence of alcohol. Yeonjun walks towards your side, laughing at your attempts at walking, and swinging his arm over your shoulder to help you. Sure everyone knew that Yeonjun hated your guts but he wasn’t that heartless. After a string of goodbyes, you both slowly slump out of the building, you sighing at the fresh air. Yeonjun titters softly at your swaying before looking back to make sure no one was behind him. 

“Aww is my baby tired?” You whine into his side, comforted by his large presence, his cologne making you sleepy. “Shut uppp”. Yeonjun couldn’t blame your fatigued figure, it was certainly tiring keeping your marriage a secret. Once you two were far away (and when he couldn’t watch you struggle anymore) his hands slither down to your thighs and in a blink of an eye you find yourself dangling in a pair of strong arms. “Jun what are you-” You’re cut off to a sweet kiss and you happily take it, leaning more into his mouth, wanting to feel him more but he cuts you off from your need, instead landing you onto your feet so you could get into his car. His hands gently move the pieces of hair that stick on your face, eyes glazed with something so pure that it made you want to melt into the seat below you. He spots your squirming, turning his hand so the back of it, laid on your cheek. “Do you need to throw up?I brought plastic bags?” You smile against his cold hands, shaking a no. The silence felt comfortable, as Yeonjun decided to crouch by your seat still out of the car, still observing you with a delicate look, and his soft lips pouting at how stunning you looked. “Stop staring at me like that” You whisper, taking his other hand in yours. 

“Baby you’re the smartest woman I know, I didn’t mean what I said today at school” He snuggles into your cheek apologetically. It’s been gnawing at him all day after he said that, feeling extremely guilty even though you knew he meant it as a joke. “I don’t mean anything I say that’s rude, I swear” He continues on, giggling with you as he burrows his nose deeper, lips puckered to leave a trail of gentle kisses. “I know Junnie, I don’t mean anything like that either”. You slowly turn your face, capturing his lips in another kiss, noses brushing with each other as his touch feels scalding hot against your skin.  “I really wish you could use my last name at school” He sulks. “Me too, love” You pet his hair, threading your fingers in it, forcing him to release his (fake) glower. “Come on, let's go home” He leaves one last smooch on your nose before groaning while getting up, stretching his limbs. You reach over in the glove compartment to grab your rings, and when he gets in the car, you grab his hand to slide his on, his own fingers scrambling to slip your own ring on your hand. At last, he starts the car, and the rumbling engine almost lulls you to sleep. “You could sleep if you want, I can tuck you into bed” He looks down at your jelly figure against the leather seats. “No I want to sleep with you” He bops his head softly at you, starting to softly hum a song. But alas your eyelids felt droopy and heavy like a dozen rocks sat upon them, so you decide to close them for a second, and the last thing you heard was a little muffled but in enough volume to where it sent blood rushing around your body. 

“I love you, Mrs. Choi”

Bonus:

Chaewon walked out of the building a little after her best friend and coworker left. She wasn’t going to deal without Mr. Park’s nonsense any longer. But as she walked farther and farther she noticed a young couple, the boy carrying his girl. “I swear to god, I’m going to sleep on the highway” she groans, walking faster to her destination so she could call for a taxi. Her eyes glance towards the girl, which looked like (Y/n), and the boy that twinned with Yeonjun. But that’s impossible, Yeonjun carrying (Y/n) would happen when pigs could fly. Maybe she drank a little too much. 

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*sooo how was it? Sorry this is my first one-shot, hopefully, they'll be better and longer ones in the future :) Ask me to be added to my permanent tag list.

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

Wait I just remembered you said Dick and Jason helped Bruce pick our batmom’s real rings. Can we see that?

"Bruce why are we here?" Dick asked, rolling his eyes and suppressing a yawn with difficulty.

"Because," Bruce said, sliding him a cup of coffee, "It's important- Next week-"

"It's Christmas!" Jason said beaming, "Are we gonna go get the tree? Shouldn't mom-"

"Shh," Bruce chuckled, nodding for Alfred to shut the door. He'd managed to shove enough reports at you that you'd be busy most of the day- you didn't even know Dick was in the house. But as soon as you did there'd be no way he could pull this off. "It's top secret. I'll tell you about it in the car-"

"Well Y/N can't be about to kill anyone because you're not pouting," Dick said picking up the mug.

"Dick don't-"

"Whatever," he sighed, "Can we just do this, it's early. If we're shopping for Y/N for Christmas isn't it easier to just buy her like a new dress or something why do we have to-"

"Because," Bruce said, trying to channel the patience he'd seen you use a hundred times, "We're going to go and replace her rings-"

"But why are we going?" Jason asked, confused. "Mom likes her rings-"

"No she doesn't," Dick snorted, "She thinks they're tacky."

"But why-"

"Because when B bought her off the internet-"

"Stop telling people that," Bruce sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose before turning to a very confused Jason. "When I forst married her, I married her to keep our Cover and have someone to help me keep Dick from getting hurt-"

"Or just outright murdered," Dick added.

Bruce nodded and smiled a little, "Or that. So I bought rings that one might... expect her to wear. I thought this year we'd get her some that she'll actually like to wear."

"Shouldn't you do that?" Dick asked, looking less annoyed than he had, the frown softening, just a little.

Alfred smiled a little and put more eggs on Jason's plate, "Perhaps. But. She does love her boys. And anything has to be better than the way she was given the first set."

"I apologized," Bruce said, "And I did offer to replace them but-"

"What'd he do?" Jason garbled around a mouthful of breakfast.

"Just handed them to her before a press thing and told her to put them on," Dick snorted.

Jason glared at him and Bruce smiled a little, ruffling his hair. "Pretty sure she forgave me for that one. Pretty sure. Nothing exploded in my desk or anything."

"Every woman's dream proposal," Alfred drawled, "Paperwork and some hastily purchased jewelry. It was very romantic."

"Are you sure you weren't on her list for a while?" Jason asked, squinting at him. "Because that's-"

"We're fixing it today, alright?" Bruce said. "You two are going to help me pick them out and she'll like them better."

"So you're having us do it because-"

"Because after 5 years he's still not sure what she'd like," Alfred snorted.

[stcrfeesh]

the complexities of simplicity

(and the friendships built with sandwiches)

No warnings apply; Safe for work.

The retelling of the roundabout way Al Haitham tries to become friends with you.

Or, how not to be spies with covers as employees in the corporate world.

Al Haitham was such a conundrum. Unlike everyone else, he was different.

Despite the field he was working in, one where he was required to lie, he was still never one to engage in false pleasantries and hollow compliments. He’d openly refuse to take time out of his day to chat about the weather to get the information he needs—the twists and turns were unnecessary to him.

If he could walk into an establishment to steal information, then he’d do just that. It was simpler to walk in and then walk out without being detected anyway. It wasn’t like anyone would suspect some feeble man for information theft. Why would they? After all, he was just another paying customer using the washroom after trying out a new coffee blend.

Al Haitham gets what he wants and what he needs, in a roundabout, but oddly efficient way. Why aim for the straight path to his goals when he could simply jump to his goal? It would save him so much more time and effort—save him his breath and thoughts.

The path between point A and point B was, indeed, already simple. Even a pigeon would understand such simplicity. But in his mind, anything that was already efficient would always have something to make it even simpler.

The simpler it was, the less work he’d have to do, and the less work on his plate, the better. It was like dealing with fractions in math—always answer with the simplest form.

He was a conundrum in the way he contradicts himself. The lengths he’d go to for certain things; an extensive plan on how to steal intel without having to talk much with anyone, or perhaps, commissioning someone to fashion a device for him so he wouldn’t have to water the plants outside every single morning himself.

Al Haitham in all of his contradictions, turns simplicity into complexity, and sometimes, it made your head spin in confusion.

You would always see him enter the building at eight in the morning—on the dot every day. It was the same routine for the most part; a cup of coffee in his hand, and his coworker? Friend? You weren’t sure, but the guy would always be complaining behind him as he rubbed the sleep off his eyes. Then, Al Haitham leaves at four in the afternoon. At that time, though, without his partner—who you’d usually see cursing his very being—in tow.

In all the days he’s passed by you, you’d give him a smile—not the same one you give everyone else, though. This smile was reserved for him alone, you thought that perhaps, he needed a little more kindness in his life—so, you’d smile at him every morning and every afternoon to greet him. Much to your dismay, however, he never greets you back. No “good morning” or “thank you”, and especially not a single glance towards you. And so, you have come to a conclusion.

Al Haitham was not nice. Though, of course, not in the way where you’d call him an absolute prick. He wasn’t a dick, per se, he was just… unsociable. Well, maybe he was a little bit of a dick for never greeting you back, but it wasn’t like a greeting less affected your entire life. He was just some sleeper agent working on the top floor of the same company you’ve been stationed in, who, also happens to not like making small talk.

Yes, that was definitely it. Perhaps he liked being in his own little world where nothing bothers him, and you could get around that. That much was understandable. After all, with years of undercover work at the front desk of a company where the rudest people in all of Teyvat would barge in with their incomprehensible demands, you too would like to be in your own little world.

Alas, such is life in the world of espionage.

Al Haitham wasn’t an important part of your life—okay, maybe he was, but that was if, and only if your covers were to be blown. You weren’t high up in the ranks to have had the immediate clearance to know his codename, it even took you half a year of running errands for headquarters to figure it out yourself. Turns out, Al Haitham, the quiet man who’d never greet you back, was the Agent Vulture everyone either feared or idolised. Or both.

Should your covers be blown, you’d trust him enough to get the both of you out of trouble. That was assuming he’d even lend you a hand.

You wonder then if he knows you were just like him—a sleeper agent, which you now begin to doubt he does 1. He probably doesn’t even know your name despite the gold name tag pinned onto your uniform. Does he even see you greet him? You’ll never know, to be honest, nor do you ever plan on knowing.

That thought changes, however, on one unsuspecting morning.

You watch him enter the front doors. On the dot at eight in the morning. His companion mutters curses under his breath as he follows behind him. Today, you manage to make out what the blond man was complaining about.

“Oh, I don’t know, Al Haitham,” You heard the blond whisper sarcastically. “Maybe a ‘Thank you so much for helping me out, Kaveh’ would do!”

You watch Al Haitham inch closer towards the front desk, probably to clock in. He hisses at his companion, “Why should I thank you, oh great Kaveh? I pay for your share of the rent. Isn’t that a ‘thank you’ enough?”

Kaveh, you let the name resound in your mind. So that’s what the blond guy’s name was. The name sounded familiar to you, but you couldn’t pinpoint why or how. Not that it mattered.

When they were near enough, you put on a smile to greet them, “Good morning,”

The blond guy, whose name you now know was Kaveh, stops ranting furiously at his companion and flashes you a toothed smile. “Yes, hello, darling, good morning.”

Al Haitham presses his hand against the clocking device, and it makes a little ding sound, signifying that he’s successfully clocked in. You already assumed he wouldn’t pay you any mind like always did, that he’d walk away, but he doesn’t. He stops in his tracks, to look you directly in the eye.

He doesn’t glance at your name tag, but somehow, he says your name as if he’s known the entire time. You hadn’t expected him to know your name, quite the contrary, actually. You believed he didn’t even know your face. So, when he says your name, your jaw drops the slightest in shock, and then you snap it back shut when you realise you must’ve looked like a fool.

“Yes?” You answer simply, testing the waters. “Is there something you need?”

He shakes his head letting you know that he didn’t, and then hands you something wrapped in wax paper, “You left your lunch, so I bought an extra sandwich for you instead.”

Now you’re just confused. What in Teyvat was he even saying? What does he mean you left your lunch at home? You narrow your eyes at him, wondering if he was a double agent out to get you, but his expression remains as stoic as ever. Had it not been for his fingers tapping rhythmically against the desk, you would have believed what you wanted to believe.

Message, you managed to gather from his tapping. You nod, getting his message as you take the item from him. “Oh… I was in a rush earlier, and I forgot to make lunch for myself. Thank you, you didn’t have to trouble yourself.”

Al Haitham nods one last time before he and Kaveh disappear into the hallway.

When they were finally out of earshot, your front desk partner playfully bumps your shoulder. She grins at you, and you immediately knew she was up to no good, “I see you have someone bringing you lunch now… I wonder who he might be. Boyfriend, perhaps?”

When she says that, you couldn’t help the snort that comes out of you. You? A boyfriend? And the best operative in Sumeru, no less? When Shroomboars begin to fly.

“He’s just a friend,” You lie—or, maybe, it was a small little white lie. Al Haitham wasn’t your friend, you didn’t even know his favourite colour, but you knew him just enough to get your lie to work. Plus, you certainly weren’t lying when you denied being in a romantic relationship with him.

You are a spy, an asset specifically placed in this specific company in case someone from your faction needed immediate help. Dating was far, far off the list of things you needed to do.

“Just a friend?” She asks you, her voice full of doubt. “Dear, you can’t expect me to believe that. Friends don’t just bring each other lunch because they’re friends.”

You frown at her mindset, that was untrue. Friends do bring each other lunch from time to time. You flick her forehead. “Not everything is about romance, you know?” You stare at the wrapped food in your hands. You knew better than to play with food, but you were curious, so you squish it lightly—it was probably a sandwich.

You cough, clearing your throat. The next thing you say, now this—this was a lie, “I need to put this away. I’ll be real quick.”

“Be quick,” Your desk partner reminds. “The front doors will be opening soon.”

And that’s what you did. Quick on your feet, you find yourself in the break room in no time. When you notice that the room was deserted, you carefully unwrap the wax paper. You find a small card tucked between the wax paper and the sandwich (you were right).

Report to headquarters at 6 PM.

You flip the card around to find nothing else. You stare at the card for another moment longer. Not only did he actually know your name, but he also knew who you were—that you were an operative like him. Which now begs the question, was he just being a dick the entire time?

You shove the card in your pocket before placing the sandwich in the fridge.

Seriously. You thought to yourself, was it so hard to just tell me this in person?

Al Haitham giving you homemade sandwiches did not stop that one time.

The next morning, he gives you another one. Using the same excuse as the day before, but this time without the message from headquarters. He does it again every single day for the next week, and then the next two months. Throughout it all, he uses the exact same excuse over and over again, “You forgot your lunch again,”

On one of those mornings, you raise a brow at Kaveh. A silent question of why. What was his companion planning? Why must it be you, in particular? But, when Kaveh furrows his brows, you realise then that even his own companion had no idea—the poor guy was even confused.

“Here,” Al Haitham says, handing you the sandwich. He stops to look at you for a short moment, and begins to tap his fingers against the desk as he speaks, “It’s cheese and turkey.”

Tap, tap, tap, tap—A message.

“Oh,” Is all that you’re able to let out, despite all the thoughts racing in your mind. “Thank you again, Al Haitham.”

As he was about to leave, you stop him, “Hold on!” You pull out the box hidden in a cubby behind the desk before walking towards him, “I was making cookies last night, and I made a batch too many. So, uhm, these are for you.”

That was a lie. You made the cookies for him, and you were quite certain he knew you were lying. But, if your lie works, then it works. He didn’t need to know the truth.

He raises a brow at you, and for a glimmer of a moment, you swore you saw a smile grace his lips. It was small and subtle, but you swore you saw it. Maybe you were imagining things, maybe you were not—you were leaning toward the latter, though—but regardless of whether it was real or a mere trick of the light, you thought that smiles suited him. It made him look nicer.

“Al Haitham!” Kaveh called, letting out an annoyed groan. “Come on! What are you still doing over there?”

“Thanks,” Was all he tells you as he takes the box from you. You hold your breath for a moment, afraid his hand would brush against yours, but it doesn’t. Not even the slightest bit, and you almost let out a snort in front of him. Thankfully, you were able to stop yourself.

“Thank you,” You reply, like the fool that you are. You cough, pretending something was just stuck in your throat. “I mean, yeah, sure. No problem.”

Al Haitham nods, following his companion further down into the hall. When you were certain he was gone, you let out the breath you were holding. What the hell?

Of course, it wouldn’t, you think to yourself. Why should it? You weren’t some protagonist in a cliché romance novel scene.

You return to the front desk, peeking inside the wrapper of the sandwich he had made for you. You discreetly slip the note out, stealing a glance before shoving it into your pockets. Eyes darting towards your desk partner, you let out a sigh of relief. Good, she didn’t see.

Meet me for lunch, if you’d like, was what was written on the note. And you do, you meet him for lunch a few hours later. You find him waiting for you by the front doors, in his hand a brown paper bag—which you assumed was his packed lunch.

“Hello,” You greet politely. “I hope you haven’t been waiting long.”

“I didn’t. Let’s go?” The man begins to walk, and at first, you assumed he was going to leave you by yourself, but he doesn’t. He looks back at you, waiting for you—again. That was embarrassing.

Despite the heat that was evidently creeping onto your cheeks, dusting them with a shade of pink, with your whole chest and whatever arrogance was left in you, you decide then and there that Al Haitham wasn’t the dick you thought he was. Of course, he still wasn’t nice in your books, but he was a decent guy.

You jog up to him—at least, with your heels, you attempt to. “Thanks for the sandwich again, Al Haitham.”

“You don’t have to keep thanking me every time you see me, you know?” He chuckles. You immediately look up at him in surprise. He chuckles. You’ve never heard him chuckle before. Holy archons.

“You don’t have to keep bringing me a sandwich either,” You tell him. “Actually, why do you give me a sandwich every single day? Are you trying to condition me or something?”

If you thought a chuckle was surprising enough, then you weren’t prepared for the laugh he lets out. Al Haitham laughs at your words—at the notion of you thinking you were being conditioned by him.

“I’m not, don’t worry,” He says, still laughing. “I just find making an extra sandwich for a friend therapeutic.”

At that very moment, realisation finally dawns on you. The sandwiches were because he wanted to be your friend. Al Haitham wanted to be your friend. The twists and turns he went through all because he wanted to be your… friend. You couldn’t help but smile to yourself at that.

In the little moments you had been allowed to catch glimpses of him beyond the stoic exterior, you learn that he was one contradicting and ironic man. He was a man that made the most simple of things complicated, and a man who was too honest, despite the life he leads as a spy.

Al Haitham was not nice, you were definitely certain of that. He was not someone who engaged in false pleasantries to get into the good graces of people. So uncharacteristic of an operative—or, at least, that was what you think.

He was blunt—a little too honest, but you realise then that in a life where everything around you was a lie, you didn’t mind having an insanely honest man for a friend; even with all the contradictions and irony.

“Friend,” You repeat, smiling at him. “Well then, friend, would you like to have lunch with me every day from now on?”

“I see no reason as to why not,” He replies. “Friend.”

Who knew sandwiches were such a good, albeit roundabout way to make friends?

This is me experimenting with insert-reader fics. Please take my silly interpretation of Al Haitham. He's a funny guy. I am also sorry if this doesn't make sense. I'll probably rewrite this some day. I just needed to get the brainrot out of my head to continue writing off the precipice. I hope you enjoy, though!

A sleeper agent, also called sleeper cell, is a spy who is placed in a target country or organization not to undertake an immediate mission, but instead to act as a potential asset if activated.

GENSHIN MASTERLIST  |  KO-FI SUPPORT

© stcrfeesh 2020-2023 — reposts, translations, and any other form of reproduction of my work is prohibited.

[cutedice]

Haii idk if your asks are open but I thought I should shoot my shot your scenario are amazing btw

Can I request sabo,ace and maybe marco reacting to a love confession from reader who has been their best friend for a few years ?

((THIS WAS REALLY CUTE TO THINK ABOUT THANK YOU!!))

The S/O Confesses

Characters: Sabo, Ace

Warnings: None, Fluff!

Everything is GN!

SABO

- You were nervous. Not exactly for the plan you had made in your head, but more for how Sabo might react to it.

- There were a few key reactions you thought of right when you first started planning it. Sabo was incredibly kind, so you doubted he'd laugh at you, but he was also a tad... emotional. Crying might be a definite possibility, and rejection might lead to dramatics worse than you could imagine.

- Koala had been fantastic during the whole thing, her subtle advice and hints that he liked you too had done nothing but boost your confidence in the matter but... the lingering doubts were still around.

- There was no time for that now though, not with how fast the world was changing. You marched down the hall, confidently approaching Sabo's office before knocking on the door. When a few seconds had passed and you didn't get an answer, you knocked again, this time getting a grumble in response.

- You opened the door, finding Sabo at his desk half-asleep and very lazily trying to finish some paperwork. It was funny in a way while also being concerning.

- "Mm... Hey, (Y/N)," he greeted, yawning and sitting straight. "Sorry, sorry. I've had a long day. You need something?"

- You didn't know if now was the best time anymore, not when he was so tired. You, instead, walked over to his desk and snagged the empty mug off the top of it. He watched you walk out in confusion, and practically rejoiced as you came back in a few minutes later with a fresh cup of coffee.

- "You're my life saver, thank you," he cooed, blowing at it before he took a long drink.

- You sat yourself down in front of the desk, watching as his shoulders relaxed and he woke up just a bit. He looked happy, almost cute. He'd be cuter if his hair was clean, but he had been working hard and you loved that too. Softly, you let it slip. You let the words leave your lips.

- "I love you."

- He froze mid-drink, his eyes snapping open before he blew, coffee going everywhere.

- It was a very sudden mess, and you were quick to get up to help him resolve it, using whatever at the moment fabric was available as a towel. You grabbed the mug and wiped his face, pulling back to see if you got it all only to see he was redder than red and bug-eyed.

- "You love me?!" he exclaimed, reaching out to grab your shoulders and shaking you. "How long? Really? I love you too!" he exploded the words, talking a mile a minute and trying to piece imaginary points together.

- You would have watched if it weren't for the fact he had been shaking you the whole time, not harshly, but it was annoying enough. You reached out and put your own hand on his shoulder, telling him to calm down.

- He did, almost instantly. Tears were welded into his eyes. "(Y/N)..." he whined, pulling you into a hug. "I love you too!"

- You relaxed, patting his back and then squeezing him gently.

- You knew it. He cried.

ACE

- You genuinely weren't too surprised to have fallen in love with Ace.

- It wasn't so much that he was the type of guy to pull every person he looked at, but he was just so generally likable and charming. It was easy to be his friend, and, in your case, it was easy to fall in love.

- You weren't planning on telling him at all for fear of being turned away. More often than not, you'd see him turn someone down, maybe just someone wanting a fling or a fan of his. Occasionally it'd be someone you both knew for a while as well.

- It just wasn't highly encouraging, but there were some positives that helped push you toward attempting to confess. Like Marco mentioning something about you that Ace likes, or Izou would encourage you to just mention it.

- "You're wonderful (Y/N)! If he doesn't like you then it's his loss."

- With these added boosts, you were well on your way to a confession. Well, you would be if you could find him.

- You were currently searching around for him, but honestly you couldn't find him. Not for the life of you.

- You asked everyone too. Not a person had seen him around and you were beginning to fear that he might have snuck out on a solo mission without your knowledge, but even then he would have told someone!

- In your frustrations, you finally stormed off towards the back of the ship in one last attempt and a recheck sense you had checked there earlier.

- And there he was. Leaning on the rail, snoring.

- You walked over, looking him over before giving his shoulder a gentle shake.

- His head popped up quickly, eyes blinking open. He was dazed for a moment before he looked over. "Hey, (Y/N)!" he greeted with a smile. "Man, where'd you come from?" he asked, looking around.

- You told him you just woke him up, and he gave you a confused look.

- "What? I coulda swore I was just blinking," he trailed off before looking out at the water. "It's a pretty sunset," he said.

- There was a moment of silence, your nerves standing on edge. It was tense, at least for you, the words brimming at your throat and threatening to spill out.

- Your fate was sealed when he sent you a side glance and his smile grew just a bit more fond.

- "I love you!"

- You covered your mouth quickly. And, much to your sudden horror, watched as Ace combusted.

- The man began to fumble, opening his mouth to say something before closing it and gesturing his hands around before ultimately falling back.

- Once he had woken up again, his face was hidden in his hat. Smoke was emitting from him, It was cute, how flustered he was. Slowly he peaked out from over the brim, looking at you. "You uh... You really love me?" he asked.

- Without hesitation you nodded.

- He sighed, moving to put the hat away from his face. But, instead of putting it on his head, he put it on yours. "Well... I can't say I don't love you too, cause that'd be a lie."

- After that, you felt like you could have combusted into flames.

[itsonlydana]

hi can you maybe write cc foolish with a s/o who overworks themselves?

"come to bed"➷ Foolish

➛ pairing: cc!Foolish x gn!reader (no pronouns mentioned)

➛ idea: you were so concentrated on your work that you didn't even notice how late it has gotten. If it weren't for Foolish you would have worked until dawn

➛ tags/warnings: fluff

➛ an: to anyone who might find themselves in this situation: take a small break, drink some water and maybe have some fruit <3 you can do this but your body needs rest as well to function properly!

➛ tagging: @icarusthefoolish

important links: rules + masterlist

🌿 reposts and comments are appreciated, they motivate me a lot and keep me writing <3

The tapping of your fingers on the keyboard clacked through the quiet study, keeping you in the almost trance-like state of writing away, filling the document in front of you with sentences that were very likely to need complete revision in the morning. But you didn't have time for that right now, first of all you had to write something halfway meaningful at all. In nine days was the deadline for submitting this project and while that actually gave you enough buffer, you didn't want to fall behind your schedule. A schedule that was about to burst at the seams, like a slowly overboiling pot on the stove. Every time you looked at the paper diagonally next to you, it felt like there was more. 

Next to your desk was an untouched sandwich that you had long forgotten about, next to it three empty cups that you had drunk up so quickly that no coffee rim could form. They had been one of the desperate attempts to ignore the oppressive fatigue a little further-another paragraph....

Whenever you paused to close your slowly burning eyes for a few seconds, you regretted it, found it harder to open them again afterwards, and it was only the fear of not finishing in time that made you sit up and force yourself to erase the last typed words, a jumble of half-asleep typed letters, and rephrase it.

You didn't notice how it had quieted down in the bedroom next door, no half-shouted curses about miserable opponents in Overwatch flowing to you from under your door crack. Instead, there was the soft clack of a doorknob being pushed down, shuffling footsteps in the hallway muffled by a rug, and a soft tap of knuckles on the closed door of the study.

"Baby?"

At the voice of your boyfriend Foolish, raspy with fatigue, you jolted out of your trance of work. You leaned back in your chair smiling, ignoring the way your back pulled and your body yearned for your bed. At the sight of Foolish, the sluggishness disappeared for a moment. 

"Are you still streaming or have you stopped?" you asked him. After several hours of barely using your voice except for a few exasperated sighs and groans, the words rasped in your dry throat. 

Foolish stepped into the room, hands shoved into the pockets of his gym shorts, and shuffled up to you until he could lean down to rest his chin on your head. "Been done for half an hour, didn't you see my message?" 

Confused, you shook your head and reached into your pants pocket. Sure enough, twenty minutes ago Foolish had sent you a "ready, bed? :)" You hadn't noticed the vibrate. You looked from the phone back to the flickering monitor in front of you. "I'll be done in a minute, then I'll join you. Okay?", you gave him a smile, the corners of your mouth heavy with the fatigue that had spread throughout your body. 

Foolish didn't move though, just looked at you shaking his head. "Babe, it would be much better to continue working in the morning".

You too shook your head and turned back to the screen. "This can't wait Foolish. If I queue this up in the back too, I won't be able to finish the rest on the list either." For you, that was the end of the subject. You had explained to him why it was important to you to keep working and he would surely understand. Just to be on the safe side, you threw another "Go to bed already, I'll be up in a minute" over your shoulder. 

But Foolish mumbled weary disapproving noises in your ear, his nose pressed against your temple. "Bed," he mumbled, his lips pressed against your ear so that his warm breath tickled you. 

Sighing, you leaned your head back. "Foo-," you began, but were interrupted by his lips on your cheek. 

"Now," he murmured, a little more seriously. Foolish put his hand on yours on the mouse and guided the pointer to the "Save" box, which he clicked three times for safety's sake before shutting down - without a protest from you - your PC. As soon as the screen went black you felt a wave of relief that made your arms heavy. Your bones groaned as you slowly sat up, cracking free from the chair that had engulfed and taken you over the last few hours. Your legs were heavy as lead, each step a shuffle across the floor, and like every time you work far too late into the night, you immediately regretted it. 

But Foolish was there. Smiling, he took your hand in his, pulling you behind him out of the office and up to your bedroom, where you fell exhausted onto the covers. Foolish slid behind you, your back pressed against his chest, and buried his face in your neck. 

The last thing you heard before falling asleep was a soft, "I'm proud of you."

[ladycatofwinterfell]

Red roses

Summary: Catelyn receives roses from a secret admirer, prompting Ned to take up the challenge. The issue being that no one knows they’re dating yet

For the fourth year in a row I write Valentines fic <3 This is short and kinda silly, but I hope you’ll like it all the same!!

“Ned.”

He looked up from the coffeemaker to see that Catelyn had poked her head out from her office.

“Can I have a word?” she asked.

She was smiling, though something in her voice told him it was urgent. Still it could not be that urgent, they didn’t work in a particularly urgent field.

“I’ll be with you in a minute” Ned told her.

It looked like she wanted to argue, but in the end she just nodded and disappeared into her room without closing the door.

While Ned stood there and watched the coffeemaker as it painstakingly slowly filled the pot he wondered what it was she wanted. They had never spoken a lot at work when they weren’t sitting in the same meeting, and it grew even more rare after they began seeing each other outside of the office.

After what had been far longer than the promised minute he had joined her in her room with a mug of coffee in one hand.

“That might just be the slowest coffeemaker in the world, why can’t Robert just get a new one?” he said, more to himself than to her, as he pushed the door closed behind him. “What was it you wanted to talk about?”

“First of all I wanted to say thank you for the flowers, that’s very sweet” she began. “But then I also wanted to remind you we agreed on… discretion.”

Only then did he notice the vase with a bouquet of red roses that stood on the desk behind her. A beautiful bouquet, to be sure, but not his doing. If she had not bought them for themselves someone else was behind it.

“I didn’t give you the flowers.”

Catelyn smiled.

“You don’t have to pretend just because we said no affection at work.”

“I’m not, it really wasn’t me.”

Who was giving her flowers anonymously?

Catelyn’s smile faltered just a little.

“But there was a card” she said.

Everything grew more confusing with every words she said. Was the person behind the flowers also claiming to be him? Whatever was the reason for that?

“With my name on it?” he asked.

“No, but considering what it said I just assumed it was you.”

She turned around and took a small, pink card out from the bouquet, reading it again. When he reached to take it from her so he could read what it said himself she held it to her chest.

“Better not” she told him.

Then she crumpled up the delicate little card and threw it in the trash can sitting by the side of the desk.

What did it say? How bad could it be? And who was writing to her?

“I suppose I should throw away the roses too” she then said, turning back to him.

Ned couldn’t claim to be entirely happy about someone else sending her roses, but then who was he to make her throw them away? They hadn’t even put a label on it. And whoever had given her the flowers didn’t know about him.

“Keep them” he said. “Beautiful roses for a beautiful woman.”

The slight blush that crept up her cheeks was lovely. Ned had to suppress the urge to reach out and cup her face.

“I unfortunately can’t stand around in here all day, but I’ll see you tomorrow if not before then” he said instead.

“Great.”

Barely did he have time to open the door before she was speaking again.

“And also can you please start properly formatting your documents? Reading them is headache inducing.”

Ned didn’t answer to that. She had had the same complaint since they started working together, but no one else seemed to have an issue with it. Never before had he been so heavily criticised by a colleague, it was as if she wished to oppose him every chance she got. Not that he held back when he disagreed with her either.

“I might consider it if you ask nicely” he responded.

Not that she ever would.

On his way back to his own office he passed someone that was going in the other direction.

“Stark” Littlefinger said with a nod.

“Baelish.”

He didn’t nod in return, merely kept walking. Petyr Baelish’s presence in itself was hugely annoying, he wanted away from there as soon as possible.

Though after a few meters he stopped and looked over his shoulder. Littlefinger had indeed stopped by Catelyn’s office, he was leaning against the doorway in a very obnoxious way.

Of course it was him, they should have known immediately. It was no secret the bastard was interested in Catelyn, it had been obvious for a long time. But that he was not alone in, and Ned would rather die than be bested by Petyr Baelish.

~*~

Catelyn sighed when she entered her office and saw the heart shaped box that sat next to the vase of roses. She had figured out who the secret admirer was the moment Ned had left her, and decided to accept it. Petyr’s thing for her was childish, in a way. It would never happen. He was almost like a little brother.

She had wished for it to be Ned the moment she saw the roses. Even as they had agreed to keep it secret until the relationship was more… defined she had wanted Ned to be the one to give her roses. Instead Petyr had given her roses. And chocolate, it seemed. He had to know how she saw him, though he was a persistent one.

Petyr must have been encouraged by that she had kept the flowers. Perhaps it had been the wrong decision even as they were beautiful and Ned had encouraged her to keep them.

With a sigh she leaned against the desk and picked up the box. It was as red as the roses she had received the day before. And glittery at that. Flashy, one might say. She would have liked to throw it away just because, but she was weak for chocolate.

So against herself she opened the box and found a small card that was similarly shaped. When she picked up the card she expected to find writing similar to the previous day’s, but it was different. The handwriting was not the same, and the card was signed.

It only seems fair I also get a turn

Ned

He had also realised whom her secret admirer was, even as they had not talked about it. It was a secret admirer he did not like, at that. He never had and Catelyn could not understand why. There was nothing wrong with Petyr.

It was ridiculous of her to smile, still she did it. Before she truly knew him Ned had never struck her as the romantic type, though he was. She didn’t believe him to be consciously romantic, he just did certain things without thinking of it.

The chocolate was conscious, though. He was competing against Petyr. A stupid competition, he was well aware of that he had already won. He had to be. She liked his note better than the other one even as it had lacked a poem about how beautiful she was.

“More gifts from your secret admirer?”

Catelyn put aside the box before meeting Cersei’s eyes.

“So it would seem” she said, tearing the note in half.

She kept tearing the note until it would have been impossible to piece together what it had said. The pieces, just like Petyr’s card, went into the trash can. Though for an entirely different reason.

“Now would you look at the files I emailed you?”

Catelyn sighed. There was always an urgency with Cersei, she wasn’t awfully patient.

“I got here two minutes ago and my day doesn’t start for another eight” she told her. “I’m getting a cup of coffee.”

“You’re so fucking slow, how did you even get this job?”

She would look at the files once it was working hours. Before that she had a whole eight free minutes.

“You’re one to talk, this is the first time you’re on time in what? Two weeks? More?”

When she received no answer she just walked past Cersei.

No one had put on a pot yet, no one ever wanted to be the one to do it. They wanted coffee, but no one wanted to make the effort to brew the damn thing. She was almost always the one to do it in the morning.

While she was waiting for the highly volatile coffeemaker to start gurgling the few people who were there on time stuck their noses out from their rooms. The sound of the coffeemaker usually had that effect.

“You put on a full pot, right?” Jaime called.

How was both he and Cersei on time? That had never happened.

“Of course I did.”

What kind of question even was that?

Though a full pot meant it would take forever to be done. They all hated the coffeemaker, sometimes she believed that was the only thing that united them. Maybe that was why Robert downright refused to replace it.

Catelyn went back into the office to fetch her chocolates. She hadn’t had breakfast, the chocolate would have to do. It was something, at least.

While she was standing there with her gift and staring at everything but the suspicious stains on the grey carpet that covered the floor she was joined by Petyr. It was hard not to notice the way he eyed the box she was holding.

”Good morning” she said.

”Good morning” he replied.

He was good at pretending, apart from the initial looks at the box one might have not known how it bothered him. It felt almost mean.

”Did you get those on the way here?” he asked. “Strange breakfast, I mean.”

There was a choice there. She could say that yes, she had indeed treated herself to a box of chocolate on her way to work. She could also tell him that the person who had given her the flowers must have also given her the chocolate.

”It was on my desk when I came here. Do you want one?”

She held out the box towards him and after a moment’s hesitation he took one.

”Thank you.”

The gurgling from the coffeemaker died down and not a second passed before the others came to get their coffee. Ned was one of them.

~*~

Catelyn, ever the one to make coffee in the morning, had done it that morning too. And as so often before Littlefinger had been waiting for the pot to fill up with her. Ned couldn’t understand how the man wasn’t embarrassed with himself.

Before he could stop himself he walked over to them, stopping briefly to put a hand on Catelyn’s hip and kiss her cheek.

“Dinner plans still on?” he asked as he took a mug from the shelf.

He hadn’t heard of there being any reason for why they wouldn’t be one, but it was better to be certain, wasn’t it? He wouldn’t want any confusion regarding that.

“I’m looking forward to it” Catelyn said.

When he glanced at her while filling his mug he saw that her cheeks was a shade redder than usually and there was a smile playing on her lips.

“Lovely.”

He was aware of that she followed after him when he returned to his office, but didn’t stop until they were both in the room.

“Does this mean we’re official?”

His heart must have done a flip in his chest. At least it felt like that. He hadn’t considered the implications of what he had done, he had acted in the moment. He had seen Littlefinger and Catelyn and he had felt a strong need to do something about it.

Ned took a sip from his mug before he turned to look at her.

“If you want us to be” he heard himself say.

Time passed very slowly before she had given her answer.

“Then we are.”

It wasn’t harder than that. He had believed it would be, but it was easy. So very easy. He wondered how long it would have taken if Littlefinger had not given her those roses.

Catelyn was shining. Beautiful, really.

“Great.”

Immediately he regretted that. Who responded that way? Who said ‘great’ after making a relationship official? He, apparently.

“Thank you for the chocolate, by the way” Catelyn smiled. “I liked it.”

“I took a chance.”

And it seems he had hit some sort of jackpot.

[next-autopsy]

A/N: Well, hi there! It's me again, back with the fourth chapter. Drop me a comment or message if you feel like it, seriously it would bring me pure joy, I love hearing from y'all!

Based on the actors portrayal/hbo show and written with no disrespect to the real life veterans. Also all images found on Pinterest.

TW: 1940s sexism, Meal skipping, Sobel being mean for exactly NO reason, swearing……. Any more?

Made of Glass

Chapter four: STD’s at breakfast

Water droplets trickled down the side of her face, she watched in the clouded mirror in front of her as one slid and fell towards the floor. Bernadette let the tap run into the sink a moment longer before shutting off the flow. Giving a heavy sigh, she reached for a paper towel to dry the excess moisture off her face and hands.

Bernadette wasn't stupid, she knew how most of the men felt about her being there. She had come to terms with the fact that some of them might never truly accept her. She knew it would be more than difficult joining the military as a woman and convincing a bunch of men to respect her. She knew it would take a ton of physical effort as well as mental, she expected it to be hard and she was confident she could push through and prove every man wrong.

But she still had feelings, she was only human after all. The constant jabs and looks she got weren't that bad on occasion, she could even handle her pig-headed CO at times. It was the thought that this mistreatment was never ending that got her, she couldn't see the end of it and she began to feel as if it would last forever.

Birdie remembered how her oldest brother had written her letters detailing his training and how the COs were harshest at the beginning to weed out anyone who might not belong there.

So she understood why she was being treated this way, as a women she was deemed weak. The men would've preferred her at home, in the kitchen, hospital or working behind a desk.

She had to remind herself that the special women's program she was apart of was the beginning of change. A new era, one where men and women could be on the same level, have the same jobs, the same responsibilities, the same respect.

One last look at her own reflection and she was ready to take on the day. Ready for her company men to ignore her, ready for her CO to screech at her and push her harder than anyone else.

However, Birdie was running on fumes. She'd need at least a cup of coffee to be able to function, considering her lack of sleep, skipped dinner and her massive workout the previous day.

06:00- The mess was open.

Birdie trudged toward the hall, following the smell of warm food that usually repulsed her, she stood in line and waited to fill her belly.

But alas, the day had other plans for her.

Sobel swung the door open and his eyes locked onto the women. His heavy boots sounded rhythmically across the wooden floor and came to a stop next to her.

“Private Coldwell.” Smugness oozed off of him, Birdie kept finding herself having to resist the urge to roll her eyes in his presence.

“Yes, sir?”

“I trust you had a pleasant night?” His tone carried mischief.

“Yes, sir.” While her tone was flat.

“Not tired, are you?” He just wouldn't let that go, would he?

“No, sir.”

“Then, what are you doing?” Silence. Had she heard him right? Could he not see what she was doing or was there more to the question? Had she forgotten something? Was she breaking an unknown rule? Thoughts rushed to the forefront of her mind, but nothing stuck out.

“Sir?” Her head tilted, a quirk of hers that showed confusion.

“I asked: What. Are. You doing. Private?”

“I'm- I'm standing in the breakfast line, sir?” Her befuddlement clearly showing on her face and in her voice.

“Correct me if I'm wrong, Private, but doesn't consuming food give you energy?” It wasn't really a question but she answered anyway.

“Yes, sir.”

“And didn't you yourself just say you're 'not tired'?”

Ah, now she understood where he was going with this.

“Yes, sir.” She admitted defeat, holding in her sigh.

“Then don't you think you should leave this army issued food for the men who actually need it?” He leered, the implication was clear, he had seemingly banned her from eating breakfast.

“Yes, sir.” Her stomach panged, the smell of watery porridge and crisping toast wafted toward her nostrils giving her the urge to leave the hall to escape it. As if reading her inner thoughts, Sobel revealed a piece of white chalk from the pocket of his trousers. He made a show of stepping into the center of the room, holding the chalk above his head.

“This.” His voice raised, addressing all the occupants of the mess hall, “Is Private Coldwell's circle.” Sobel crouched down and drew a chalk circle around himself before straightening up.

“Private Coldwell will stand in this circle. She will not sit, lean or crouch while she is in her circle. No man is to approach Private Coldwell’s circle for any reason. She will not leave this circle for the entirety of the breakfast half hour.” He took dramatic steps around the room as he spoke, making eye contact with a different man at each word he spat out.

“If any of you men see Private Coldwell breaking the rules of her circle, you will report to me immediately, clear?”

“Yes, sir!” Dozens of baritone voices sounded off creating a deep melody.

Birdie willed the ground to tear open and swallow her whole when Sobel looked at her expectantly. His eyes flicked down to the white circle on the wooden floor and her body responded for her, stepping into the circle and staring blankly in front of her.

“I want all of Easy in their PT, lining up at the obstacle course at 06:45 exactly.” Sobel called as he marched to the exit.

“Yes, sir!” The room chorused.

Bernadette felt a thousand eyes on her, she really tried not to notice them but that was easier said than done. She felt a cloud of heat crawl up her neck, once again Sobel had managed to embarrass her publicly and she could do nothing about it.

A clatter broke her out of her personal pity party.

Toye sat at the end of the table she stood in front of, he’d ungracefully slapped his breakfast tray down on the table top and swung his body into the seat.

Birdie found herself watching him, amused. He seemed to be the only man who didn’t avoid her (not counting Sobel who screamed in her face whenever he pleased).

The table filled up, seat by seat and Birdie wondered where she should aim her focus. She didn’t want to outright stare at the men while they ate, but she could not tear her eyes from the meal they shovelled into their mouths.

“You’re not gonna faint, are you?” Toye’s gravely voice asked, laced with a tinge of concern yet he didn’t take his eyes off his food, feigning indifference.

“No, sir.” The women smiled, touched by his ever growing soft spot for her.

“You gonna faint on the obstacle course?” Joe raised his eyebrow to look at her, letting her know if she said 'no' he probably wouldn’t believe her.

“I sure hope not.” The grin on her face was evident in her voice. She noticed some of the surrounding men eyeing them up, gaze flickering between the two as if to try and understand what had caused the casual conversation.

“She’s hasn’t even finished the obstacle course yet.” A faceless man called out in a quiet lull, laughs ensued and Birdie clenched her jaw.

“No, technically, I have not.” She huffed, rolling her eyes, “but I will.” Her whiskey brown irises gleamed with determination.

“You jump too late.” Toye mumbled, breaking her from her thoughts of concurring the eight foot wall.

“Huh?” A slight tilt of her head.

“The wall. You should jump earlier, lead with your right foot and push up.” Joe spoke directly to her now, turned fully to face her, breakfast forgotten.

“That extra push will get you up there. Just try it.”

“Well… okay. I will.” Birdie was back in her head, plotting the logistics of jump kicking a eight foot wall and Joe was back to scraping the food off his plate.

“Ya know,” the man sat next to Toye spoke up, his thick Philly accent drawled, “Maybe you didn’t finish the course, but shit- you did good… I mean, for a broad.” The backhanded compliment was well meant, but Birdie still couldn’t help her eyes narrowing at his audacity.

Birdie heard the men speak to each other everyday, she’d heard the stupid nicknames they gave each other and she knew this man had a unluckily one. She would recognise that harsh accent anywhere, even though she’d never spoken directly to the man.

“Oh well thank you. That means so much coming from you, Chlamydia.” The southerner watched his face freeze he heard her version of his horrible tag. His brow furrowed and he halted the movement of his hands, as if the cogs in his mind were whirling double time.

Joe Toye subtly smirked, looking up at her to silently show her he understood her joke (unlike Bill who was still processing) and approved of her jab at his friend.

“You- what? Did you just- That’s not my name, sweetheart.” He stuttered a bit but finally settled on correcting her gently as if she were a five year old child.

“No, I’m like 90% sure it is.” She feigned a thoughtful look, finger posing on her chin. “Yeah, I’ve definitely heard people call you that.” She could barely hold back a smile, trying to play it off as being friendly or ditsy.

“No, no it’s Gonorrhoea!”

“Oh shit! You got Gonorrhoea too? A bad name AND an STD? Why; that’s some shit luck.” Bernadette couldn’t deliver the line with a straight face and ended up giggling her way through it. Toye was grinning down at his food and a few of the surrounding men who hear the whole thing chuckled at the Philadelphians expense. He finally caught on that she was messing with him and smiled along with his friends, rolling his eyes when he heard the men using his newest nickname; 'Bill Chlamydia.'

“That better not stick, lady!” He warned her, amused. Birdie laughed and shook her head, she kinda hoped it would.

“It’s Birdie.” She thrust her outstretched hand at him, he shook it immediately, smiling widely at the young woman. In his eyes she had earned her way into his good books with that smart mouth of hers.

“Guarnere. Bill Guarnere.” Bill enunciated the name s l o w l y for her.

“Yeah, yeah, okay.” Birdie rolled her eyes playfully at his antics.

Guarnere kept throwing one liners at her like he was testing her humour and how much she could take. Everyone was surprised when she hit him with a witty response each time and didn’t bat an eye when he flung names and cusses around. At one point Toye and Birdie teamed up to make fun of Ol’ Gonorrhoea and his supposed STD’s. A list which was growing by the second.

“Yous a southern broad, Birdie? Ya sound like a fuckin hayseed?”

“You from Philly, Syphilis? I can’t understand a thang you say!”

The men who sat with Joe and Bill had also introduced themselves to Bernadette; Frank Perconte, Floyd Talbert, Donald Hoobler and George Luz to name a few. The men had begun joking around with her once Bill paved the way. It was as if the boundary had been broken and now they were allowed to be friends with her.

06:30 rolled around and the mess hall emptied, including Birdie who could finally leave her circle of hell. Easy now had fifteen minutes to change into their PT gear and be at the obstacle course unless they wanted Sobel to tear them a new one.

Birdie pulled away from the group of men she was working on befriending and caught Bill’s eye.

“Ten minutes, little lady! Or Sobel’ll send ya up Currahee!” He bellowed at her.

“Got it! See ya in ten, Herpes!” A chorus a belly laughs filled the air. Birdie heard a few echoes of ‘Herpes!’, ‘Bill Herpes!’, ‘He’s got Herpes now too!’ Bernadette gave a quick glance over her shoulder, Bill was scowling playfully and telling everyone around him to ‘Shaddup.’ Adding, ‘I don’t got no Herpes!’ As they disappeared to their barracks.

A/N: I think I'm the funniest person in the world and nothing will change that, thank you and goodnight x

~ next-autopsy ~

Chapter five