#should i do quarterly words? no words?

[battywitch]

I'm in flares, which is making thinking much more difficult, and am frozen with indecision about my first half of 2024 journal setup and I just want someone to tell me what to do with it lmao 😭

[dreaming-medium]

Stray Kids Kinktober Day 5

Stray Kids Kinktober Masterlist

Cockwarming - Felix

Word Count: 5.7k

Summary: End of the quarter reports are due and somehow one of the calculations got messed up; it’s nothing you can’t do by hand. And luckily you have a preppy secretary who will stop at nothing to make sure you’re relaxed.

————————————————————

“Felix, can you bring in my incoming forms, please?” you say into the intercom on your desk. 

“Right away, ma’am.” His deep voice answers you immediately through the speaker. 

Leaning back in your large office chair, you cross one leg over the other and look out of the floor to ceiling windows that line the wall behind your desk. 

Your arms cross over your chest and your bottom lip pulls between your teeth in deep thought. 

Various different items on your to-do list for the day fly through your mind as you stare out over the Seoul skyline.

Partnership approvals, tax forms, time sheets.  

Being the CFO for a large cooperation like this one was never easy. There was never a single day in the office that you weren’t busy. When you think about it, you can’t even remember the last time you took a vacation day.

Once you get this high in the corporate ladder, it’s supposed to get easier, that’s what you thought. It’s what you were told your entire life. But, now that you’re here, you see that it’s the exact opposite.

Every single day is filled to the brim with meetings, phone calls, and business lunches. It’s all chock full of fake smiles and forced laughter. 

You worked your ass off to get to where you were now, and nothing was ever going to change that. Sleep be damned..

A gentle knock sounded through the room.

“Come in,” you call out, turning your chair to face the door.

The door opens and Felix walks in with a large stack of papers in his hands. His crisp white dress shirt is tucked into his navy blue dress pants, a matching tie around his neck. A pair of thick black glasses sat perched on his nose, face framed by long, perfectly kempt, blond hair.

“Your inbox, ma’am,” he says warmly, walking closer to your desk.

“Thank you, Felix.” You motion down to the empty desk in front of you. “You can just place them anywhere.”

He nods and gently places them on an empty spot on the wood.

“Do I have any more meetings for the day?” you ask him, flipping through the papers.

“No, ma’am.”

You run one hand through your hair tiredly. “Good, good.” A beat. “What time is my first meeting tomorrow?”

Felix reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone. He taps on the screen a few times before speaking up. “Ten o’clock.”

“Really? That’s the best news I’ve gotten all day.” 

“Your 8:30 was rescheduled to the afternoon.”

“Now that makes sense.”

Your eyes tiredly flick over to the time on your desktop. “Jesus, Felix. Weren’t you supposed to leave an hour ago?” 

He shifts his weight on his feet. “Yes, but I don’t leave until you do.”

“I told you that you don’t need to do that.”

“It’s just in case you need me, you know?” A soft blush covers his cheeks, but you pay no mind to it.

“You’re putting these hours on your timesheet, right?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” You sigh again. “Tomorrow is the day, isn’t it?”

“If you’re referring to the quarterly rebalance, then yes, it is.”

At the end of every quarter, you were in charge of verifying each analyst’s calculations and reading their predictions for the next one before presenting them to the board of directors. 

Every single time you end up staying at the office until the wee hours of the morning.  

Last quarter, you didn’t leave the office until two in the morning. And, like every quarter, Felix stayed with you.

“Well, then,” You put the forms back down on your desk and push your chair away to stand up. “I’m not going to bother with these tonight when I’ll be here until sunrise on Saturday.”

“Should I have your car brought around?”

“If you could, please.”

“Right away, ma’am.”

Felix briskly leaves the room and you roll your head around your sore neck.

“Fuck quarterly rebalances.”

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

Your hand runs over your face for the millionth time in the last four hours. The numbers are starting to blend together at this point. 

The analyses started coming in around 11 AM and since then you just haven’t stopped. 

Line chart after line chart, spreadsheet after spreadsheet, everything looks the same now. 

You’ve been hung up on one single data set. There’s a random spike in it for no reason at all. Why is there a spike in this calculation? 

You cannot move on to the rest of the data until you get over this spike. 

Blindly, you reach over to the phone on your desk and press the intercom button. “Felix,” you say after the beep.

“Yes, ma’am?”

“Can you please patch me through to Seo Changbin? There’s no way this spike is correct.”

The sound of typing on a keyboard echoes over the line. 

“Seo Changbin clocked out three hours ago, ma’am. Would you like me to ring his personal phone?”

“Three hours?” you ask incredulously and look down at the time. “Holy shit.” you murmur under your breath.

8:00 PM. It’s 8:00 PM.

“Ma’am?” Felix grabs your attention after a second of waiting. 

You throw your glasses down onto the desk and pinch the bridge of your nose in frustration. A headache has been resting behind your eyes all day. 

“No,” you say after a few moments. “No, that won’t be necessary. I’ll just run the numbers myself.”

“Is there anything else I can help you with for now, ma’am?”

You look around the room, the sun is setting over the skyline. A sigh leaves your chest. 

It’s hard to believe you were working for nine straight hours on this. When was the last time you looked up? 

“Have you eaten yet, Felix?” you ask, keeping your eyes outside. 

“No, ma’am.”

“Order whatever you want, make it double. Put it on the corporate card.”

Felix’s deep laugh comes through the intercom. “Right away, ma’am.”

“Thank you, Felix.” 

“My pleasure, ma’am.”

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

Two plus two is four, right? Yes, of course it is. Two plus two has always been four. They wouldn’t just change that suddenly, right?

But you’re so delirious that you still punch it in your calculator. 

“Two plus two...” When the calculator says four, you stare at it. “To be honest, I was expecting something else with how tonight is going.”

Laughing at your own joke, you continue to re-input the numbers into the spreadsheet on your desktop. 

A knock at your door pulls your attention.

“Come in!” you call out without looking up. 

The door clicks open. “Delivery!” Felix’s cheery voice calls into your office.

You look up at your secretary with weary eyes. His mouth pulls into a sympathetic smile. 

“That bad, huh?”

“You have no idea.” you groan and lean back in your chair. Your muscles scream from the movement and you grunt. “I just verified two plus two on the calculator.”

“Still four?”

“Surprisingly.”

“I think it’s time for a break, then.”

Peeking at the clock, it says it’s around 9:00 PM now. 

With an apologetic smile, you look up at Felix. His white collared shirt is undone at the top, no tie around his neck. A plain pair of tight black slacks hugging his legs. He’s looking at you with nothing but pity in his eyes.

“I’m so sorry, Felix,” you say while taking the takeout container from him. He just laughs.

“Don’t apologize, it’s all part of the job.” He shifts in place for a moment and turns and looks at the door. 

“Where’s your food?”

“Oh, at my desk.”

“Why don’t you bring it in here? I’d love the company. Wayne can only do so much for my sanity.” You point at the house plant on your windowsill.

A little nametag on the front of the pot says ‘Wayne’ in cursive. 

Felix’s eyes widen and his cheeks turn a bit pink. “Oh! Yeah! I’ll um… I’ll go grab it and be right back.”

You follow his lithe body as he rushes out of your office with one eyebrow raised.

Strange.

True, this was the first time you invited him to eat in your office with you. But it’s not like you ever had the opportunity to do so.

Typically, you ate in your office by yourself while still working. Truth be told, you had no idea when Felix’s lunch break was. He was always available when you needed him. Did he work through his lunch too?

Your secretary re-enters your office slightly out of breath. 

“By the way,” he pants. “I had forgotten to order us drinks, so I got this out of the vending machine for you.”

He comes up to your desk holding out your favorite drink.

“Ugh, what would I do without you?” You smile and take the drink. “Pull a chair closer, you can eat on my desk too. It’ll get all over you if you try to balance it like that on your lap.”

Eagerly, he places his food on your desk and scoots forward. The redness in his cheeks deepened. 

Soft lo-fi music is coming through your computer and filling the silence in the air. You crack open the takeout container and dig in. 

It’s a stir fry. And stir fry has never looked this good in your life.

“This is so good,” you basically moan after taking your first bite. 

“O-Oh, yeah? I’m glad you like it,” Felix stutters back and takes his own bite. 

“It’s definitely much needed after today.” You whine and look back at your desktop. 

“What’s going on with the numbers?”

“Based on what Changbin gave me, it says our internal earnings spiked massively this quarter. And yes, while this is great, it’s extremely abnormal. If this is true, I need to verify it before I can present it; otherwise, I’ll look like a fool.” 

Felix listens intently to your explanation. “I don’t think you could ever look like a fool, ma’am.”

“Thank you, Felix.” You smile at him. He grins back and suddenly it’s like the sun is back up. His pearly white teeth shine in the office light.

“You have such a pretty smile,” you compliment him. “I don’t think I ever told you that.”

Felix squirms in his seat and looks down bashfully. The blush spreads all over his face. One of his hands comes up and rubs the back of his neck. 

“Ah, thank you, ma’am. I appreciate that.”

Chuckling softly, you turn back to your calculations. 

The gentle, twinkling sounds of lo-fi beats do nothing to help calm the swirling confusion in your head. 

Minutes pass and you’re staring at the same algorithm. 

Your shoulders are slowly coming towards your ears with all the tension in your body. When you lean forward to use your keyboard, a burning pain runs through your back. 

“Fuck.” Your hand flies up to grab where your shoulder meets your neck to massage it and roll your head around. 

“Everything alright?” Felix asks. 

“Yeah, I just get so stiff sitting at my desk while I work on the end of quarter stuff. Feels like my shoulders are on fire.”

No amount of massaging your own shoulders seems to be working, though. 

Felix looks down at his food for a moment, then back up to you. His eyes shift away from you nervously. 

“Before this job, I had gone to massage school for a few months. Would you like me to see if I can work those kinks out?”

Normally, you would say no. It would be so wildly inappropriate to have your secretary massage your shoulders while you work. Imagine if someone decided to walk in?

But now? When no one else is here and there’s no end in sight with these analyses?

“Are you sure you don’t mind?” you ask, unsure. 

He seems to perk up a bit. “Not at all!”

Another moment passes while you weigh it in your mind, your lip pulls between your teeth before looking at him a bit sheepishly. “If you don’t mind…”

Felix is up on his feet, food immediately forgotten. It almost startles you how fast he’s up and around the back of your chair.

You had shucked off your blazer a few hours ago. Just your button up on, the top few buttons undone and sleeves rolled up to your elbows. 

Felix stands behind you for a moment, his hands hovering over your shoulders. “Do you have any lotion?”

“Yes, actually.” Reaching down into your desk drawer, you pulled out an herbal lotion that your one friend had gotten you as a gift. 

“‘Stress Relief’, huh?” Felix teases when you set it on the desk.

“A friend thought it would make a great gag gift with everything going on,” you laugh to yourself and stare back at your computer. “She didn’t realize how appropriate it was.”

Once more, Felix moves his hands around your back, his lithe fingers sweeping your hair off the back of your neck. Instead of keeping it down, you lean forward and grab a long pencil out of the cup and twirl it around your hair to then pin it up.

It’s a trick you learned back in college.

Felix watches behind you silently, his breath hitches slightly when he sees your hair settle all pinned up. Strands fall out of the bundle and frame your face and neck a bit.

It’s the most perfect messy hairstyle he’s ever seen. 

Felix’s jaw clenches and he gulps, pulling himself together.

“Do you mind if I, ah– lower the back of your shirt a bit?” 

“Yeah, here.” You’re already back in word mode; after looking at the sheer number of raw data littering the spreadsheet on your desktop, you were no longer focused on your secretary. 

You unbutton more of the buttons and let your shirt slide off your shoulders a bit. Your cleavage was still covered– mostly. 

Felix’s brain whites out for a split second and he has to physically force his brain to reboot. There’s a slight twitch in his pants at the sight of your naked shoulders. You’re always in those high-collared shirts, blazers, sweaters, so ungodly professional.

But your clothes are always so skin tight. Or you’ll wear a blouse like this one and a tiny little pencil skirt. 

Felix leans down and pumps some lotion on his hands, rubbing it together to warm it up before setting his hands on your wonderfully smooth skin. It takes every fiber of his being not to let out a moan at the feeling. 

His breathing picks up as he digs his thumbs into your muscles. 

Immediately, you groan at the feeling. “God, that already feels so good, Felix.”

His name, you said his name, moaning nonetheless. 

He can only make a noise of acknowledgement while he continues to work out the high strung muscles in your neck and shoulders.

Meanwhile, your brain is completely focused on your calculations. It’s so much easier to focus on everything when it doesn’t feel like your back is on fire.

Felix’s hands are absolutely magical. Everywhere he rubs loosens up underneath his strong, yet gentle, grip. He kneads right at the base of your neck and every knot slowly releases.

Small moans slip past your lips without realizing it.

And just because you don’t realize you’re moaning does not mean that your secretary hasn’t. Every single sound that comes out of your mouth goes straight to his dick. His slacks have tightened significantly, a tent pitching higher and higher each second.

He scolds himself internally. He knows he needs to pull it together, you’re his boss. You sign his paychecks. But fuck, knowing that you’re making those noises because of just his fingers is messing with his brain, he couldn’t stop even if he wanted to.

Felix runs over a particularly tight knot and you jump with a yelp.

“Sorry! Sorry!” he apologizes profusely, keeping his hands on your shoulders.

“It’s okay,” you soothe his worry. “God, I already feel better. It felt like someone was stabbing flaming daggers into my shoulders.”

Your voice sounds somewhere else. Even though Felix has been your secretary for almost two years now, you’ve never spoken this casually with him. You were always professional, always so put together. 

The work in front of you has you so consumed that you don’t realize how much your tongue is slipping.

It’s been like this the entire night. You’re too distracted to care. 

“I can’t believe you chose to pursue this instead of continuing with massage school.” you continue.

“Well, I had originally gotten this job to pay for massage school. Then, when I got this position, I realized it paid more than being a masseuse ever would.”

You move your head around your shoulders, “Still.” you write down a string of numbers, click around on your keyboard, punch a formula into the calculator, then write something else down. “God, your fingers are fucking magical.”

Hearing you curse sent a lightning bolt down his back and Felix’s head is shot into the clouds. And you were complimenting him! 

“I can’t imagine what else those fingers can do.” 

Now he knows he’s dreaming. Did you really just say that? Did he hallucinate it? His fingers pause on your muscles.

Your own words must have sunken into your brain; your entire body goes rigid and you gasp, one hand flying over your mouth. Your heart drops to your stomach.

“Oh my god, Felix.” you say quietly, your tone is horrified. “Felix, I am so sorry, please. Oh, god.”

You can’t even turn around to look at him. It’s like ice water was injected to your veins. How could you have said that? He’s going to report you to HR! Who wouldn’t? You quite literally just harassed him in the workplace.

“I have no idea why I said that.” you sputter.

Say goodbye to everything you worked for. You threw it out the window by accidentally letting your tongue slip while he massaged your bare shoulders.

While you were apologizing profusely, you didn't feel him lean down until you heard his baritone voice was right next to your ear.

“I could show you.”

Like a zipper, pleasure shoots right up your spine. It makes you sit up straighter in your desk chair. Your mouth is suddenly so dry.

“W-What?” you stutter out, still looking down at your desk.

Felix is so close behind you that you can smell his cologne wrapping around your nose. It’s so fresh. It has a cotton-like musky smell to it. You’ve always caught whiffs of it when he came breezing through your office.

So many times you’ve found yourself leaning into the smell, and now here you have it so close to you.

“I could show you what these fingers can do, ma’am.” he purrs in your ear. Goosebumps raise all along the back of your neck, the hairs stand on end and a shiver creeps up on you.

His warm, slippery hands slide from your shoulders down your bare arms to grip them for a second before sliding back up. Felix reapers the motion a few times, letting his hot breath fan over your exposed skin.

“But,” the gravel of his voice makes your insides flutter. “You need to finish these calculations, ma’am.”

You hum in response, allowing your eyes to flutter closed and you lean back into his touch.

Felix chuckles under his breath. “I have an idea.”

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

Oh, it was a sinful fucking idea. Did he really think you were going to get any work done like this?

Felix had sat down on your desk chair, the tent in his pants so painfully obvious. At the same time, you can’t deny the wetness in your panties. It was getting worse and worse during that massage.

It’s only natural. 

He grabs your hips and pulls your body towards him, his face level with your lower stomach. He looks directly up at you, his fingers curling into the fabric of your pencil skirt.

Those deep brown eyes staring up at you with a lustful haze covering them. Every freckle was highlighted on his face due to the blush covering his skin.

You bring one of your hands up to his face and softly caress his cheek, letting your fingertips dance over his skin. Felix leans into your touch; he turns his head and presses a kiss to your palm.

“This is crazy,” you whisper down to him.

“The secretary sleeping with the boss is not a new concept, ma’am.”

You roll your eyes. “Yes, but it’s usually the other way around.”

One of your knees comes up and rests on the chair right in front of his crotch. Felix bites his lip and his eyes squint shut for a moment.

His hips stutter, you can tell he’s trying not to roll them to rub against your bare skin.

Your head cocks to the side and you smirk. “Come on then, I need you to be fully hard if I’m going to sit on your cock.”

One of the deepest moans you’ve ever heard pulls from deep within his chest. Felix’s head tilts back and his grip on your hips tightens. In a fluid motion, he gyrates his hips and you feel his cock press right against your leg.

A devious smile crosses your face, you move your hand down to grip his face tightly to bring his clouded gaze back to you. 

“Come on then, Felix. You can do better than that.”

He whines and closes his eyes again, his hips stuttering and moving faster, harder. He parts his lips to begin panting. Each breath is hot and heavy, you can barely hear your music over it. The heat from his exhales goes right through your shirt.

Further and further, he descends into a subspace.

“Good boy,” you praise and it goes straight to his head. 

Felix gulps and moves his hands around to grip your ass a bit.

In a quick movement, you rip your leg away from his hips.

Felix cries out and his eyes fly open to look at you with astonishment.

“Did I say you could touch me like that?” you hiss down at him. 

“No, ma’am.”

Your head cocks to the side and you stare for a few seconds. “I need to get back to work already. Take your cock out.”

His eyes widen and he hesitates, not used to hearing such filth tumble from your lips. You tighten your grip on his face.

“I’m waiting, Felix.”

He’s then fumbling with his pants trying to fulfill your wishes. He’s practically scrambling. Why isn’t the zipper fucking working? Come on, come on.

Meanwhile, you drop his face and pull your skirt up around your waist, revealing your black lace thong. While still fumbling with his own pants, Felix moans, staring at the beautiful sight in front of him. It sounds like it’s punched out of him.

Teasingly, you hook your thumbs around the elastic band and drag it down your legs slowly.

Another whine comes out from Felix’s throat. His tongue practically falls out of his mouth at the sight of your pussy, acting like a starved dog.

“Please,” he pants, not able to tear his eyes away from it. “Just a taste. Just one. Please, ma’am, please.”

Smirking, you lightly slap his cheek twice. “You get three licks, honey.”

He can’t get his mouth on you fast enough. Felix wraps his lips around your glistening folds and runs his tongue up through your juices, collecting whatever he could on his tongue. 

You both moan at the same time at the sensation.

“One…” you moan out. 

Another lick pulls another moan. “Two!”

After the third lick, he swirls his tongue around your clit, making your knees feel weak. “Fuck! Three!”

You roughly grab his hair and yank his mouth away from you. His cheeks are flushed and his eyes half lidded. It looks like you took a puppy away from its bowl.

His full lips glisten with your arousal. 

“Sit back on the chair, hands to yourself.”

Felix reluctantly leans back in your chair, his cock at full mast and dripping with precum. His head is flushed red. He is painfully hard.

He rests both of his hands on the arm rests of the chair and keeps his lustful eyes on you.

A smirk pulls at your lips as you kick your panties off, heels staying on. 

You turn around and grab Felix’s cock tightly. His hands tighten around the armrests with a gasp.

“Remember what I said, Felix. No touching.”

“Yes,” he pants.

“Say it, then.” you demand, hovering your pussy over his cock. You both can feel the heat of each other radiating off. 

“No touchinggg—!” While he was talking you dropped down onto his length. 

Both of you moan out loud, your head kicks back at the delicious stretch. God, it’s been too fucking long since you’ve gotten laid. This job takes everything from you.

You roll your hips a few times, getting adjusted. With each movement, Felix lets out a noise: a whine, a grunt, a moan, a whimper, everything in between. He’s singing a chorus of pleasure in your ear. 

“We have to get a little closer to the desk, Felix.”

It takes every ounce of strength, but your voice comes out even and Felix clocks that it’s your professional voice. You feel his cock twitch inside you.

Slowly, he rolls the chair towards the desk and you immediately return to your work. You snap back to it so fast it makes Felix whimper again.

Your heat is wrapped around him in the fucking best way. There’s no way he’s alive right now. For months he’s touched himself thinking about what you looked like underneath all those professional clothes.

You’re always so uptight, what if you just let loose for once? What would it be like? 

Your pussy clenched down on him and Felix whines, throwing his head back. Oh, this was going to be torture.

Just until you finish verifying the calculation, that’s what you said. As soon as you verify the numbers, then you would let him have you.

“You just need to behave.” You told him.

How is he supposed to behave when you’re so fucking tight and wet around him? He can feel each breath you take. 

Besides the fact that you’re surrounding his cock, your naked thighs are right there on top of his. He wants to grab them so hard it’ll leave his fingerprints in your skin, maybe it’ll bruise in the shape of his handprint.

Felix can’t help his hips bucking at the thought.

You clench again and moan. “Felix,” you warn.

“S-Sorry.”

“Sorry, what?”

“Sorry, ma’am!” 

Oh, you love that. You absolutely throb around him. Huh.

The soft hairs on the back of your neck tickle against his nose, he can still smell the lotion that he rubbed into your shoulders. 

Felix is grabbing the armrests so tight his knuckles are turning white. His nails dig into the leather painfully.

He licks his lips nervously and he gets another taste of your arousal that was still on his skin. It makes his eyes roll back. 

You adjust on his lap. The movement of your heat around him makes his head spin. The drag of your hot, soaking wet walls over his length is the most consuming feeling he’s ever felt. 

“Fuck,” he murmurs under his breath. 

“Stop moving.”

A small sheen of sweat breaks out on his forehead.

Why no touching? Why couldn’t he snake his hand around and up your blouse? He could cup your tit and pinch and pull your nipples until you’re clenching around him so tight that he could scream. He could lick all the way up your neck and pull your earlobe into his mouth while he listens to you panting his name.

Why can’t he touch you? God, he just wants to touch you.

Here he was, living out his wildest wet dream, and he couldn't feel your soft, supple skin underneath his fingers.

Why can’t he turn your head and consume your lips with his own? Shove his tongue down your throat and suck on yours like it’s a piece of candy.

He should’ve taken his pants off. This way he would’ve been able to feel your juices drip down and soak his thighs. You’re so fucking wet he thinks he might die. 

Felix’s eyes travel to the desk. He could absolutely bend you over the top. He could pull your hair and make you scream. He could make you forget all about–

“Aha!” When you scream, he jumps in surprise. His hips buck up and your pussy clenches around him. You both moan.

“Did you get it?” he pants out. His voice sounds so much weaker than he wanted it to; he sounds like he just ran two miles.

“Yes! He used net earnings instead of gross in one formula! Oh I am going to kill him.”

Thank the fucking lord. You figured it out. You did it, can he please please please–

Felix must’ve started thrusting up into you before he could even register the movements. His mind is so cloudly with lust that he can barely think straight.

“Easy, Felix.” you whine out through moans. He can just tell you didn’t want him to stop either. “Let me just finalize the chart and then–”

Felix cries out and then slumps his head forward to rest between your shoulder blades. “Ma’am, please, I’ve been so good for you, haven’t I? Haven’t I been such a good boy for you, ma’am?”

You hum and roll your hips ever so slightly. Just this slight amount of movement drives Felix insane. He whimpers loudly and his legs begin to shake underneath you.

“You have been a good boy, Felix. Why don’t I give you a reward?”

“Please.”

“Why don’t you let those pretty little hands roam until I’m done?”

“Thank you!” he cries out with a hoarse voice.

Immediately, his hands fly to your thighs and he grips the flesh tightly. His nails dig into your skin and you cry out under your breath, your walls clamping down on him tightly.

“Can I use my mouth, ma’am? Please please please please–”

“Yesss…” you hissed at him.

Felix attaches his lips to your neck and begins to suck on the soft skin while his hands wander up your body.

One hand goes right under your shirt and pulls your bra down. Those magic fingers pinch your nipple.

Every reaction your body has envelopes him in the most amazing way. He can feel everything your body likes. He can feel how you like when he rubs around your nipple rather than pinching it. He can feel how much you love when he uses his thumb to play with your tit while his mouth bites at your neck and hit other hand teases your soaking wet folds.

“Felix…” you warn. It’s all empty, though. Your typing has completely stopped, work has been forgotten.

“Fuck, you feel so fucking good, ma’am.” He moans when you tighten. “Let me make you feel good, ma’am. Let me be such a good secretary.”

With the gentlest of touches, Felix plays with your clit. Just with that soft touch, your body spasms around him.

“I can make your body sing, ma’am. Let me be of service to you.”

Another gentle pinch of your nipple. It’s going straight to his head how he can feel how much you’re fighting him.

“Don’t you want to cum around my cock, ma’am?”

You break. “Please.” you whine out.

It’s enough for him. 

Both of his arms tighten around your body, his feet plant firmly on the floor and he begins fucking up into you like his fucking life depends on it. 

He turns into something of a fucking animal with how he’s rutting his cock into your sopping wet heat. He thrusts so hard and so fast, you think he might go through you.

His teeth bare for a moment from the exertion, but he bites down where your shoulder meets your neck.

Your head throws back onto his shoulder. Felix grabs your entire tit to anchor his hold, his thumb brushing over the nipple over and over, each one sends a ripple of pleasure through you.

His other hand rubs harder at your clit, you clamp even tighter over him. Both of you grunt and groan. There is no silence in your office; is the music even playing anymore?

You turn your head to look at him. “Kiss me, Felix.”

He captures your lips without a second thought. It all feels so fucking deliciously good. He sucks on your tongue just like he always wanted to. 

Your mouths glide over one another sloppily, spit getting everywhere on your mouths.

With each thrust, each flick, each rub, your orgasm gets closer and closer. 

Felix shifts his hips a bit and hits your g-spot so hard you cry out into his mouth, he swallows the noise.

“You’re so fucking tight, ma’am. I can feel you clenching so hard. You’re close, aren’t you?”

All you’re able to do is nod. He’s stimulating you so much that you can’t find your voice. 

“Fuck!” he cries out, “Fuck fuck, give it to me, please. Please cum for me, ma’am.” His voice is so low, it's so hoarse from arousal.

A particularly hard thrust launches you over the edge, your orgasm seizes every inch of your body. Felix keeps going, fucking you right through your orgasm.

Deep, guttural moans come from his chest as your body begins to shake in overstimulation. His thrusts grow sloppy and uncoordinated as he gets closer to his own peak.

“Cumming, cumming, cumming!” he shouts and bites your neck again.

Felix spills within you, his hips sputter and he continues to talk through it. 

“So good, fuck, thank you, thank you. So fucking good, fuck, oh my god.”

The room begins to settle, both of your pants becoming softer than the music. Felix holds you close to his chest still, not letting you go.

Your eyes flicker to your desktop.

“... I’m only halfway done. Your cock isn’t going anywhere.”

[vnti-vntiety-recs]

Destruction In My Mind (M)

★  PAIRING: Toxic! Stalker!Jaemin Switch!Jaemin x Reader

☆ WORD COUNT: 8.8k

★ GENRE(S): Smut, Thriller, FWB

☆ SUMMARY: The friends with benefits relationship with your coworker takes a turn for the worse as you realize he's been keeping secrets from you.

★ ☆ WARNINGS: Toxic relationship, Swearing, Various acts of sexual intercourse, Unprotected sex, DARK THEMES,YANDERE, STOLKHOLMISH?, KIDNAPPING. STALKING, MDNI

☆★ NOTES: This is the 2nd installment of THE POISON ARCHIVES! This series will contain toxic scenarios so beware. THIS ONE IS A LITTLE DARKER THAN THE REST! Each story is inspired by lyrics from the song poison! 

PART 2

・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦

♫₊˚.“Maybe you were just bored”♫₊˚.

Honestly, you don't know how you ended up in this relationship, if you can even call it that, with Jaemin. You're not really sure what you guys have going on anymore, but one thing is for sure: it's getting out of hand.

Jaemin isn't your boyfriend, not by a long shot, but you know him well enough to consider him a friend. You met him at work, and although you swore up and down you would never mix work and pleasure, he was too charming, and you were swept right into his current. You knew this was an extremely bad idea. Especially considering the fact that Jaemin was the grandson of the CEO, but you had always liked a little danger.

Work life was getting too boring for you. The constant rise and fall of waking up and going to work was starting to eat at you. You were still young! You should be a little more daring and adventurous! You think maybe that's the reason you took Jaemin up on his offer the night of the office party. You were celebrating the company's 30-year anniversary. Everyone had gone out for a drink that night but passed on the offer to join. You had a few papers you needed to submit by this morning. Your boss assured you it was ok to submit them late, but you knew after she had a few drinks she would completely forget she extended your deadline. You weren't taking any chances tonight. You were definitely getting that quarterly bonus. You don't notice that Jaemin has stayed behind to keep you company until he speaks.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to intrude, but I just couldn't leave you here by yourself while we all had fun." Jaemin smiled, leaning against your desk.

You thought it was really sweet that he thought of you in a moment like this. That night, he helped you submit your paperwork, and you got the chance to talk to him a bit. Something between the two of you seemed to just click, and it was as you were on the elevator down to the parking garage that he made the proposal. He had noticed how tense you were and how tired you looked. He told you he could help you release your stress and relax.

You're not one for relationships, so when he assured you that it would be strictly pleasure, you jumped at the chance. This was exactly what you needed to spice up your work life. Every day, when you wake up for work, you can barely contain your giddiness. You were excited at the prospect of possibly catching Jaemin's gaze in the hallways, exchanging secret looks and flirty promises. At the beginning, everything was perfect. You guys would sneak away into the bathrooms or storage closets and get lost in each other's touch. Sometimes he would take you home after work in his Bentley, fucking you in the backseat just for the thrill.

But now things were starting to chart in territories you weren't prepared for.

It started about a week ago. Jaemin was his charming self as usual, flashing his perfect smile as a way of saying hello. You were certain that even if he wasn't the CEO's grandson, people would still bend over backward to please him. He was smart, handsome, sweet, funny, and caring. He was so perfect, it was almost scary. But that all changed when you were assigned to do a project report with Mark from the finance department.

 ・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・・┆✦ʚ♡

Your days with Jaemin were cut short and your interactions limited as you and Mark busted your asses to meet the deadline of your report. This didn't bother you as much as you thought it would. You weren't dating, so it's not like you were required to give him your undivided attention. Plus, with all the planning you had in front of you due to the project, you had no choice but to put your lust on the back burner.

It was your first time working closely with Mark, but you two worked really well as partners. Plus, Mark wasn't too bad on the eyes, so you spent half your time working and the other half oogling your partner. His ass looked so good in his neatly pressed slacks. Although you wanted to take a bite out of Mark's ass, you liked what you had with Jaemin, so you dubbed him nothing more than a friend. A really hot friend that you use for eye candy when Jaemin is not around because it makes the day go by faster.

One night, Jaemin was finally able to steal a minute of your time. You and Mark had already finished up a few hours ago, but you were stuck staying late again because your boss needed you to organize some reports. She was supposed to do it herself, but she shoulders it off on you like usual. You want to curse her, but in a way, it's because of her stressing you out that you're getting dicked down.

"Prime minister! Miss busy prime minister, please give me just a second of your time," Jaemin jests, catching you at your desk before you pack up to go home.

"Im sorry sir you will have to try again tomorrow," you quip back as you wrap your arms around Jaemin's neck, pulling him in for a quick peck.

"Oh? Only have time for Mark now huh?" He tries to hide the bitterness in his voice behind a laugh, but you can see right through him.

"Oh? that so?" You reply with an amused smile and raise your eyebrow.

"You think I don't see the way you look at him?" He's leaning down over you, just a breath away, his eyes locked on you, making you squirm.

"Someone is jealous I see," you chide, lightly shrugging off his allegations. What was it to him if you wanted to check out other guys? There's no harm in looking.

"No, because That would be against our contract, right doll? I would never jeopardize what we have; I was just checking in on you, making sure you're not thinking of running away from me, right?" He tilts his head slightly, brushing his lips against yours as he speaks against your lips in a hushed tone. He pulls back to meet your eyes with a sweet smile.

"How could I when you treat me so well?" You barely have to lean into him to close the distance between you.

The office cleared out hours ago, so don't protest when his touches start to wander into dangerous places. You hadn't seen him all week and missed his touch. That night, you let him fuck you against the cool window of the 15th floor of the office building.

You were lucky to have had such a good night because when you go into the office the next morning, you're getting your ass kicked left and right. Mark didn't show up today, and since it was the last day of the project, you would have to present it to your higher-ups alone. You had arrived later than normal, so you only had an hour before the presentation to learn his cue cards. You were able to just barely pull it together in time, and when you finish your presentation, the room gives you a round of applause. The higher-ups had heard you were pulling double the weight as your partner was absent, and they were impressed by your ability to adapt to the situation. Your boss commended you for once as you made your way out of the conference room.

"You did amazing! I was really impressed by your presentation. It's a shame Mark couldn't make it today. I wish him a speedy recovery," your boss Sunhee said sincerely.

The last comment really piqued your interest. You were so busy scrambling around the office that morning that you didn't get the chance to ask why Mark was a no-show.

"Now that you mention it, I never got the chance to call him today. What happened?" Your brows knit up in concern.

"You didn't hear? He broke his leg. He said on the way to work this morning, as he was coming up the stairs of his apartment, his foot got caught in something and he fell. Lucky it was just his leg; it could have been his neck!" Your boss exclaims

You shudder at the image in your head and shake it away. "I'll have to visit him after work; he did so much for the project; he was the perfect partner." You bid your boss farewell and go to your desk.

The presentation was the only thing you had scheduled today, so you were packing up to go home. You spot Jaemin a few feet over, watching you from the vending machine. He hadn't said a word to you all day. You chalk it up to the fact that you were busy running around all day, so you walk over to him to update him on the presentation.

"Hey Jaem! Guess what? The presentation went well. It's a bummer though, that Mark couldn't make it today. They say he's going to be out for a broken leg," you say a bit solemnly.

The fact that he showed no sign of worry or surprise should have raised a few flags, but it didn't, because soon he'll be flashing you that award-winning smile and praising you for your hard work. It's almost like he didn't hear the last part.

"That's wonderful, baby! I'm so proud! We should go celebrate tonight," he says, raising a suggestive brow. You can't help but bite your lip in excitement. Your face lit up at the proposition but soon fell once you remembered you had already told Mark you were coming over.

"Im sorry babe! I would love to, but I forgot I had to stop by Marks. I need to check up on him. It's the least I could do after all the hard work he put into the project." You pouted at him.

Just for a second, you see unrecognizable emotion flash in his eyes, but just as quick as it came, it was gone, replaced with another warm smile.

"Should I drop you off then?" he asks sweetly.

"No, it's ok; I'm not sure how long I’ll be over there; I don't want you waiting up," you assure him.

This seems to trigger something in Jaemin, because next thing you know, he's grabbing your arm and dragging you to the old stairwell. It is currently under renovation, so no one comes out that way. You struggle to keep up, and his grip gets increasingly tighter until you yank yourself free from his grasp once you make it into the stairwell. He closes the door behind him and slams you against it; he's in your face now, the wild look from earlier returning full force. You can easily identify it this time.

Jealousy

"I thought you said you didn't like him, huh? Are you lying to me now, baby? You know, I don't like liars," he growls while maintaining eye contact.

"Jaemin, chill out. What's your fucking issue? The poor guy broke his leg!" you snap.

"So why do you need to be over there all night? Why can't I come pick you up? What are you hiding?"

"He's injured, Jaem! He probably hasn't been able to move around a lot. Who knows how much stuff he needs to get done? I'm just going to help out!"

"I don't give a fuck about his leg! He can fall off a bridge for all I care! I hate the way he looks at you; that's what he gets!" He snaps back before he can stop himself.

You were shocked. You had never seen Jaemin as anything less than a sweet man who knew only how to smile. This Jaemin is completely new to you. You push him away and stare at him in horror.

"Have you lost your fucking mind? Who do you think you are? There is nothing between me and him, and there's DEFINITELY nothing between me and you! You're just a good fuck, or did you forget that's all I signed up for?" you state harshly. You take a deep breath before you continue. "We need some time apart; I think you're forgetting yourself," you say composedly before walking back into the main hall.

Jaemin is left alone in the dark stairwell. On the outside, he's cool and collected again, but on the inside, a war is raging, and there's no way he would ever let you walk away from him again.

 ・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・・┆✦ʚ♡

A few days have passed, and you see less and less of Jaemin around the office. Mark is still bedridden, and you stop by on your off days to check up on him. You used to go at night after work, returning home late. Some days you could feel the hairs on the back of your neck stand up; it was almost like someone was watching you.

One night, on your walk home after bringing Mark some leftovers, you could have sworn you heard the shutter of a camera. You didn't want to freak yourself out, so you tried your best to rationalize it. You ignored it, hoping that your mind was playing tricks on you, but after another 10 minutes of walking, you could hear the soft thud of footsteps. You had finally summoned up enough courage to check behind your shoulder, but no one was there. You ran the rest of the way home and made sure to lock your doors and windows. You were so spooked that you even checked under the bed, still jumping onto it anyway, afraid someone might grab your ankle.

Since then, you have decided to visit Mark only during the day.

You wish you could say it ended there, but other strange things have happened since then. You noticed while doing laundry that a few of your favorite pairs of underwear were missing, and you also noticed your things moved just slightly off center from how you usually leave them. You're so shaken up that you hardly want to return home.

Today, when you go into work, you see a small teddy bear with a card attached that reads "I'm beary sorry," with a little sad face drawn next to it. Before you can even cringe at the pun, Jaemin pops out in front of you with an even bigger bear in front of his face.

"I'm beary sorry," he says as he tries his best to mimic the voice of a cartoon bear, moving the bear like a puppeteer. "Will you forgive me? I can't bear to be without you," he pouts as he reveals his handsome face from behind the plushy.

"Oh my god, Jaemin," You groan, "only if you promise to knock it off with the bear puns."

He smiles slightly before taking on a slightly more serious look. "Can we please talk? I really want to apologize."

You sigh and snatch the bigger bear from his arms, saying, "Fine, but make it quick. Also get rid of these; I don't want people getting the wrong idea," you whisper.

Jaemin smiles triumphantly as he looks for a place to shove the gifts. The last thing you needed was even more drama and gossip going around. You already had to deal with the whispers about how Jaemin always ate lunch with you. The last thing you needed was every girl in the office ripping you to shreds over him.

"Join me for dinner?" he says hopefully.

Alright, fine, but pick me up at 7. You demand. 

"Of course, make sure you wear that dress that I like," he jokes.

"Depending on how much you grovel, I might let you take it off of me tonight," you say, eyeing him mischievously.

You can't help it; it's been too long since you felt his touch, and the quick glances that you steal whenever you think he's not looking aren't enough to satisfy you anymore. Sure, he was an asshole, but he was a sexy one who knew how to push your buttons. It's like he knows his effect on you. One day he's wearing his white button-down with the collar undone and his sleeves rolled up, revealing his toned arm. The same toned arms that used to pin you down on the bed while he fucks you from behind, or the same arms that show no signs of struggle as he hoists you up onto his hips and fucks you against the wall. He was driving you insane! You were supposed to be angry at him for being a rude, inconsiderate, jealous jerk, not fantasizing about him fucking you against every desk in the office. You mentally apologize to Mark for being so weak and try to reason with yourself. This could be a good thing; if you went over to Jaemin's house tonight, you wouldn't have to worry about sleeping alone in the dark, scary house that you once found comfort in.

Dinner with Jaemin is wonderful. He apologizes 100 times over for stepping out of line and also admits he was jealous. He had said that he was just being insecure; he was afraid you had found someone who could make you feel better. He explained that he was stressed more than usual; his grandfather had kept pestering him about taking on a more active role in the company because one day Jaemin was to take over as CEO.

You couldn't find it in yourself to be upset at him. You knew how it felt to have the higher-ups breathing down your neck. He was just stressed; he was having an off day. The Jaemin you knew would never say something so heartless.

After dinner, you hold steady to your promise, and Jaemin takes off your designer dress the moment you step foot through the door of his rooftop condo. His lips were stealing every little bit of air that you had left in your lungs as you both undressed each other, leaving a trail of clothes behind you as you tried to make it to his bedroom.

"I missed you so much doll," he barely manages to say between kisses.

You return his fever and trail your lips down his neck, sucking and biting as you go. He's quick to lift you up with his strong arms, and you take this as a signal to wrap your legs around his waist. He sits with you on his lap at the edge of the bed. You push him until he's lying flat, and you take a moment to look into his eyes. His eyelids are heavy with lust, and he is sporting a lazy smile.

In your haste, you only partially managed to unbutton his shirt. His chest was on full display now, and you groaned at the sight of his thick muscles. You could almost cuff him on the spot. How could a man look so delectable? You wanted nothing more than to bury your face in his chest, so you did. You leave bruises and kisses in your wake as you dot his chest with affection. Your kisses trail lower and lower, but your plan to choke on his cock is foiled as he grabs your face in his hands, bringing you back up to face him. He pecks you on the lips a few times, a little too lovingly for a more sober you, but you're so drunk off of his kisses and touches that you don't even care.

"Nuh uh doll," Jaemin tuts, "tonight is about you. Lay back and let me take care of you."

You mindlessly nod, lying in the center of the bed, unable to break eye contact, like you're under some spell.

He helps you peel the rest of your clothes off and wraps your legs around his shoulders. He takes your hand and rests it in his hair.

"I'm not gonna let up on you tonight, so pull all you want baby," he says alluringly.

His once doe-like eyes are sharp like a siren now. He draws you further under his hypnosis, kissing and biting up and down your thighs teasingly. You would be surprised if you hadn't already soaked through his expensive silk sheets. You pull harshly at his hair as a warning to stop his teasing and do something. He chuckles at your eagerness but keeps true to his word.

Tonight was about you, so when he dove in, he made sure to eat it like it was his last meal on earth. The noises that came from his mouth were filthy as he sloppily licked and sucked at your folds. He had just started, and he was already pussy drunk. He didn't even realize how loud he was moaning into you or how desperately he was grinding into the mattress below him. You tighten your thighs around his head and grind into his mouth. In response, Jaemin sticks his tongue out for you to ride. You fuck his face until your thighs are shaking and his face is slick with your juices. Jaemin backs away enough to push his middle and ring fingers into your slick-covered heat, only returning to suck on your clit harshly.

You're losing your mind just from his tongue alone. You don't think you can go back to regular life without riding this face. It doesn't take long for you to cum all his digits, and you can barely bring yourself back down to earth before he's shoving his soiled fingers into your mouth and lining himself up with your entrance. He slides in easily and fucks you like it was the first time. His head is thrown back, and he can barely contain his groans. You almost wonder if he's even touched himself while you two were apart. The way he desperately fucks into you, pinning you down like you would run away from him, stealing his long-awaited orgasm, you wouldn't put it past him. He fucks you so deep that it has you seeing starts. You grab and tug at his hair and use the last bit of your strength to try to meet his thrusts.

"Come on pretty boy, let go and make a mess of me," you pant.

You try to hold on; you want to cum together, but you can't help it when your walls tighten around him, signaling your second orgasm. Jaemin is finishing soon too, after a few more deep thrusts. He shoves his face into your neck when he releases inside of you, his hips stuttering to a stop. You both take a moment to catch your breath. He soon rolls off of you and takes another moment to recoup before he gets up to pamper you. He runs you both a bath, and while you're getting settled in, he changes the sheets and then joins you in the tub. After cleaning up, you both head to bed, unable to fight off sleep any longer.

Just before you could enter into a deep sleep, you swore you saw the bright teal color of your favorite pair of lace panties sticking out of one of his drawers.

 ・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・・┆✦ʚ♡

The next morning, you awake to the smell of breakfast. Your eyes naturally fall to the same drawer you spotted last night, but there was no sign of your panties. Maybe you just dreamt that you saw them. You push the thought to the back of your mind, and you get up to find Jaemin in the kitchen, already dressed for work.

"Hurry up and get dressed or we're going to be late," He reminds you, mouth full of food.

"Ugh, can't we call in?" You groan as you pick off some bacon from the arrangement of food on the dinner table.

"And ruin your perfect attendance? No way sweetheart, come on." He insists 

You go get dressed and meet him back out to finish breakfast. You two head into the office together but part ways after you exit the elevator. You're walking to your desk when your boss pulls you to the side.

"Hey, I hate to ask you for so many favors, but I need your help," she pleads. "Since Mark is out sick, our new hire orientation team is short a member," she pouts.

You already knew where this was going. Even though Mark was a part of the finance department, he would occasionally help out the hiring department since they were always shortstaffed. He's good friends with Doyoung, the lead hiring manager, and has agreed to be one of his orientation leaders from time to time.

"No ma’am, get somebody else to do it," you whine as you try to walk away.

The main reason why the OLs were always short-staffed was because everyone hated training the new hires. With a billion-dollar company such as this one, you would think they would hire a proper team to train the new people, but instead they resort to pulling people away from other departments and making them help out. Orientation leaders were always behind on deadlines because orientation lasted a week, and there's virtually no time to work on any assignments when you have to watch the newbies. After a week, the new hires are then sorted out into their own departments for their department leads to babysit.

"I'll add extra vacation time. Come on, I'll only assign you one guy!" Your manager tries again, hot on your heels.

You sigh; extra vacation time does sound like a steal. "Fine, I'll do it."

"Great! I'll bring him to you later for introductions," your manager says as she clasps her hands together in joy.

You settle in at your desk and boot up your laptop. After a few moments, you notice a figure looming over you. You peek up and meet eyes with Adonis reincarnate.

"Hello, I'm sorry, I was trying to peek at your name plate. Are you Y/N?" The handsome stranger asks

"I can be whatever you want me to be." You almost spilled. You scramble to your feet and offer him your hand in a handshake. "Yes, that's me, and you are?" you inquired nervously.

"Jaehyun," he adds. "It's nice to meet you; will you be showing me around for the week?"

You nod first before tripping over your words to add an overly enthusiastic "yes". Jaehyun chuckles at your antics, and you can't help but notice his cute dimples.

Maybe something good did come out of Mark breaking his leg. You would get to work closely with this literal god of a man. You could hear the ladies around the office complaining in jealousy at your luck already.

Unbeknownst to you, Jaemin is watching the entire exchange from across the room, eyes cold and jaw tense, snapping a pen between his fingers as his grip tightens.

 ・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・・┆✦ʚ♡

It's day 3 of orientation week for Jaehyun, and by now you two have already grown close. Casually making jokes between the two of you, Going out to eat lunch together and exchanging phone numbers. You barely even spared Jaemin a glance, and when he asked you to accompany him to dinner after work, you made excuses that you were too tired from juggling orientation and your own projects, but Jaemin could tell it was a lie. Jaehyun isn't as incompetent as the other new hires and doesn't need much help when it comes to doing the tasks he's given. You just hover over him because you like his company and his handsome face. You could have finished multiple projects by now if you weren't glued to Jaehyun's side. Jaemin is no fool. Maybe you didn't have a thing for Mark, but you definitely had a thing for Jaehyun, and whatever it was that you were feeling, he was going to crush it.

The next day you go into work, you're not greeted by Jaehyun's smiley dimples. You try to call him, but his phone goes straight to voicemail. You decide to ask around the office to see if anyone has seen him, and you are met with devastating news.

"Haven't you heard? Jaehyun got into a car crash after work yesterday. They had to rush him to the hospital." Your coworker says it mournfully, her face pale.

"Is.....he ok?" You are almost scared to even ask.

"He's stable now, but it was pretty bad," your coworker Yena adds.

You finish up your chat with Yena. You get all the details of what happened and decide to visit him after work.

You run into Jaemin in the hallway. He looks as cheerful as ever. There's no way he hadn't heard the news yet.

"Why the long face beautiful?" he inquired when he noticed your deep frown and somber attitude.

"Jaehyun was hurt really badly yesterday; I don't think he will be able to return to work anytime soon," you say dejectedly.

Jaemin knows not to make the same mistake twice; he puts on his best worried look and tries his best to comfort you.

"I'm sorry doll; I knew how close you were with him. How about I drop you off after work to visit him?" Jaemin adds

You're surprised by Jaemin's reaction; this was a complete 180 from how he reacted last time you showed concern for a male coworker. Maybe he was telling the truth; maybe it was just stress last time. You grin up at him and agree to wait for him after work.

After work, you wait at the front of the building for Jaemin to pull his car around. You're waiting patiently when a Bugatti parks in front of you. You pay it no mind as you wait for Jaemin to pull up in his bentley. The driver rolls down the passenger window, and you meet face-to-face with Jaemin.

"What are you doing?" he laughs.

You hesitantly approach the car in confusion. "Jaem, you got a new car?"

"It's not new; it's just not one of my favorites," he shrugs, pressing a button for the passenger side to open, revealing the butterfly doors. You get in and can't shake the unsettling feeling in your chest.

"Jaem… Where's your bentley?" You try your best to sound as normal as possible, but your mind is running a mile a minute.

"It's in the shop; the transmission was fucked. Why? Did you like it that much?" he teases.

"Yeah, it was... It was my favorite," you try to tease back, but can't help but grow silent, letting the music fill in for the missing conversation.

After a 15-minute drive, he drops you off at the hospital. You tell him you'll catch a cab home and kiss him goodbye; he doesn't put up a fight and pulls off. As soon as his car leaves your sight, you rush into the hospital. You ask the nurse at the front desk for the room number and make your way through the hospital. You approach the room and stop to catch your breath. You peek in through the small window and see that Jaehyun is awake. You knock gently before letting yourself in; he turns to see who it was that was coming to visit and immediately freezes once his eyes land on you.

You smile at him. "How are you?"

"Don't talk to me!" he yells.

"Wha-jaehyun, it's me?"

"You can't be here; you need to go now!"

"I just came to see if you were okay."

"I'll be better once you're gone! I don't want to see you anymore!" he shouts.

The noise alerts a nearby nurse. The nurse enters the room and, upon seeing you, escorts you out, saying, "I'm sorry, but you're upsetting the patient; you need to leave."

Just before she can drag you out of the room completely, you lock eyes with Jaehyun one last time. His eyes are filled with terror. You left confused and hurt. You thought Jaehyun was your friend; what could have gotten into him? Every memory from the past couple of months comes rushing back to you as you try to piece everything together.

You flirt with Mark, and he ends up with a broken leg.

Stuff begins to go missing around the house.

You always feel like someone is watching you.

You form a friendship with Jaehyun, and he ends up in the hospital.

All of this, and now Jaemin's car is in the shop right after Jaehyun ends up in a car crash? It just isn't adding up.

You wish you could talk to Jaehyun to find out more, but you don't want to upset him. There is one person you could talk to, though.

 ・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・・┆✦ʚ♡

You're paranoid when you finally flag down a cab. What if he was watching you? What if you get to Mark's place and find out something terrible has happened? The drive is short, and when you get out of the cab, you rush up the stairs to mark the apartment. It had been awhile since you last spoke with Mark; you were too caught up in work to visit him anymore. You pray that he's alright as you bang on his door, shouting for him to answer. You didn't want to cause a scene, but as each second passed, you grew more and more desperate, and thoughts of the worst-case scenario tormented you.

You had been losing everyone you cared about recently, and the one person you thought you could trust seemed to be hiding more secrets from you, maybe even living a double life. Your banging slows as you fall to your knees in tears.

"Please mark. Please be okay," you whisper as you try to fight back sobs. After a few more moments, you hear the door unlock quickly, and Mark pulls the door open.

"Jesus, give a guy a minute; you know my leg is broken," he scolds before he looks down and sees you a crying mess on his doormat.

"Dude… What's going on?" he asks.

You pull yourself together and enter his apartment, quickly shutting the door behind you. You engulf him in a tight hug as soon as you're in the privacy of his home.

"Dude, are you like... okay?" He asks as he awkwardly pats your back.

You hiccup into his chest and pull away.

"I'm fine; I just really needed to check up on you." You give him your best smile, your lips still trembling as you try to quiet your sobs. "I need to talk to you about something."

You fill Mark in on everything that's been happening at work since he's been gone. You tell him about Jaehyun, and you tell him about Jaemin's weird behavior. You ask Mark if Jaemin had ever done or said something to him that would have set off any red flags. He racks his brain for a few moments until a light bulb goes off.

"You know what? A couple days before I broke my leg, I ran into Jaemin in the coffee room. We just started making small talk. He was pleasant at first, but then he started asking questions about our project, how often I see you, and if I had ever been over to your house. He even asked what our relationship was," Mark finishes.

You both stare at each other, your blood running cold.

"You don't think he's the reason..." Mark hesitates.

"Mark, you need to be careful, ok? I don't think anyone was following me when I came here, but please watch your back, ok?" You shakily exhale.

"Alright, you too. If it makes you feel any better, I don't think he will hurt you." Mark tries to console you.

You're not afraid of Jaemin. You know he would never hurt you; you can tell he loves you in his own sick, twisted way, but you are afraid of what Jaemin will do to others.

 ・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・

You returned from Mark's house that night with a new resolve. You had to get more evidence. You needed to prove that Jaemin was really behind all of this, but you needed a way to get into the house to snoop around to do that. There's no way you could sneak in; his security was too tight, and you had to find a way for him to let you in. The only problem with that was that whenever you two were together, he wouldn't take his eyes off of you. You wracked your brain all night until you came up with a not-so-solid plan. You were going to have to wing it, but you prayed that you could pull it off.

You finish your work week without a hitch. You keep up an act around Jaemin, not wanting him to catch on to the fact that you're suspecting him. He asks you out on a date on Saturday. This was perfect. This was the exact opportunity you had been waiting for. When Saturday comes, Jaemin takes you shopping. He buys you all sorts of things—practically anything you lay eyes on.

"Jaem, where am I even going to put all this stuff?" you chastise him. "I don't need all of this," you tell him after you two have left the fifth shop that day.

He kisses you softly on the cheek. "Won't you let me spoil you? Come on, who knows? You may need this stuff one day! And you can store it at my house!" He raises his eyebrows at you, challenging you to rebut his logic.

You look into his eyes, and a part of you wants so hard to believe that this was Jaemin and that there was no sinister Jaemin lurking behind those pretty eyes of his.

"Yea, but come on, Jaem, a flat screen? Since when do fuck buddies drop a band on each other?" You raise an eyebrow to match him.

"Well, call me your sugar daddy then~" he coos, wiggling his eyebrows at you.

"Gross, get away from me, old man," you say, pushing him away. You know you're on a mission, but you can't help but fall back into the normal swing of things with him.

You arrive back at his house, and he has the concierge bring up the bags. Jaemin sets the things down in another room down the hall. When he returns to the living room, you're nowhere to be seen. He travels the short distance back to his room, and he sees you dressed down to your lace set sitting prettily on his bed.

"Whats this?" He licks his lips.

"I want to say thank you. For today." You look away in embarrassment. To him, it looks like you're just turning shy under his gaze, but In reality, you're scanning his room for clues.

"So polite baby," he whispers as he closes in on you. You hold out a hand in front of you, effectively making him stop. He leans into your palm, and you have to fight the urge to caress his chest. He takes a small step forward, your hand still on his chest, and he smirks and quirks a brow. It's almost like he's telling you that you can't do anything that he doesn't allow. He doesn't stop because you made him; he stops because he decided to.

"Let me take care of you tonight, Jaem," you sigh airily, sitting up onto your knees to meet his eyes.

He leans in further for a slow kiss. His hands caress your body, drinking you up. You pull away after a few moments and give him your best puppy eyes. He studies you for a few seconds before relenting as he sits beside you on the bed. You climb onto his lap, and you undress him. Pushing him back into the mattress and worshiping his body. There are moments when you think he's going to try and take back control, but that just won't do.

You need him to submit.

You pull his hair harshly and whisper into his ear. "If you're not gonna be a good boy, I won't touch you. Don't you want to be good for me?"

He looks up at you with doe eyes and spit-glossed lips as he nods. That's all he's ever wanted; he needs to be good for you. His breathing shallows, and you know you've got him right where you want him.

Your plan is to wear him out. You're gonna have to pull as many orgasms from him as possible so that you can put him straight to sleep. Call this pussy nyquil. You start off by making him cum down your throat. You were sitting on his face as you sucked him off; he loved this position because he got to smother himself in your pussy, so it didn't take him long to finish. Next, you pulled out a few toys and ordered him to use them to fuck himself. You held one of his fleshlights just a few inches above his length, making him work for his release. He whined each time you would tease him and pull the toy away before he could bury himself to the hilt in it. He was looking at you with those pretty eyes and batting those long lashes up at you, begging you to give him what he wanted, so who were you to deny him? You were gonna give it to him, alright? Over and over and over again. You fuck the toy down on him harshly, and he freezes, letting his back arch in pleasure as you fuck him.

"Did I tell you to stop? Fuck," you command simply.

He resumed his movements not a minute later, meeting you thrust for thrust. His head is thrown back as he cums deep inside the toy, his legs shaking and his chest heaving.

"No break?" he heaves, trying to catch his break.

"No break," you confirm as you swing a leg over his lap and sit on this length. "But you can handle it, can't you?"

When Jaemin nods in confirmation, you ride him until he's crying. He can't control his hands anymore, and they find purchase on your hips, gripping the flesh as he bites his plump bottom lip, tears staining his cheeks as he calls your name over and over.

"That's it baby,almost there?" you ask, grabbing his face and making him look at you. His lips begin to tremble again, and he releases deep inside of you without warning. He really wanted to tell you, but his brain was fried.

That's exactly what you needed.

"Lay down, baby; I'll clean you up, ok?" You say this as you stroke his face.

He tries to fight to stay awake, but soon enough, he's out like a light. You wait a few minutes for his breathing to even out, then you spring into action. You gently crawl off the bed and gather your clothes, throwing them on. You go to the bathroom, grab a towel, and wet it so that when you return, you can just pretend like you left to find a rag. You begin searching the house for anything that can clear the thoughts in your head.

If you find nothing, you agree to drop it all and just go back to normal. Maybe Mark really did trip, and Jaehyun was just being an asshole for no reason. If you did find evidence, though, you would confront him. You wanted to turn him over to the police, but you knew that with all the connections he had, he would be right back out in a day. Your best bet is to confront him so he doesn't feel betrayed. You don't want him to act irrationally.

The kitchen is clear, so you move on to the living room; nothing stands out. Next was the bathroom; again, nothing. You were growing frustrated. You check the spare bedroom, the one where he put all of your things. It's set up pretty nicely. There is a huge bed in the center of the room and a huge window that overlooks the city. There's an attached bathroom and even a small fridge. All of your things are laid out around the room. You wonder if this room is specifically for you. Maybe somewhere for you to hang out whenever you come over? You don't dwell on it too much and move to the master bedroom.

You quietly check to see if Jaemin is still sleeping. His chest rises and falls in a steady rhythm, so you continue your search. You check under the bed and then the closet. You scour the shelves when something sticks out to you. It's a medium-sized box with your initials on it. You try to pull it down from the back of the shelf and clumsily stumble backwards, dropping the box in the process. It falls with a loud thud, the lid pops off, and all of its continents spill out onto the dark closet floor. You scrambled in the darkness to put everything back, but you couldn't see a thing. You're grabbing anything you can feel when the light flickers on. Jaemin doesn't say anything at first; he just watches you. When he notices what you're holding, he speaks.

"What are you doing?" Jaemin says it coldly.

Try to respond, but there's nothing you can think of to explain yourself. You take a look around you; now that the light is on, you can finally see the contents of the box as they lay spread across the floor. Photos of you from different angles, different days, and different locations All of which you had no recognition of. Among the photos, you see your missing underwear. You finally looked down to see what you were holding, and it was another photo. This one was taken directly over you as you slept in your bed at home.

"Jaemin…..what is all of this?" You shakily ask, barely able to meet his cold gaze.

He lets out a deep sigh and shakes his head.

"You weren't meant to see those pretty. Why did you have to go and ruin everything? Every time something is going great between us, you have to ruin it." He lets out a deep sigh and shakes his head.

The next thing you know, the room is covered in darkness again.

   ・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦

3 months later

Finally, after months of recovery, Mark's leg finally healed up, and he's able to return to work. He hasn't heard from you since the night you told him everything. He had been lying low, like you asked. He hopes that now that he's returning to work, he can get some more information about your whereabouts. He was greeted by the entire staff when he arrived, even a few new faces he didn't recognize. A party was thrown to welcome him back. He doesn't catch sight of you or Jaemin during the office get-together. He begins to worry, but everyone seems to be acting normal, so nothing terrible could have happened to you, right? As the day progresses, he's introduced to the new people in his department, one of whom is Jaehyun. Mark remembers you mentioning that name the last time he saw you. During lunch, Mark finds Jaehyun and asks to speak with him in private. They go to the stairwell, which has now been fully renovated.

"Hey man, by any chance do you know y/n?" Mark questions carefully.

"Yeah, she showed me around for my first two days," Jaehyun answers collectively.

"Why only the first two?" Mark asked even though he already knew the answer.

"I got hurt pretty bad in a car accident," Jaehyun says with slight unease.

"You know something similar happened to me after meeting her as well. I fell down the stairs and broke my leg after working with her for a few days," Mark said, gauging Jaehyun's reactions.

Jaehyun sighs in irritation before meeting Mark's eyes. sternly, "Look man, I don't know what you're insinuating, but it was just an accident. Leave it alone."

"Dude, I think something happened to her. I asked her manager, and they said she quit after not showing up to work for a week! That doesn't sound like her at all!" Mark argues back desperately.

Jaehyun grabs Mark's shoulder and pulls him in closer before looking over his shoulder. "drop it. You don't know what you're up against; just let it go; it's better that way." Jaehyun lets go of Mark to push past him, exiting the stairwell.

Mark can't let it go! He needs to know what happened to you. It's the least he can do for all the times you used to visit him, so he asked around, and he found out that Jaemin also left his department about a month ago. They said he got a promotion and is now working from home.

Mark takes it upon himself to pay him a visit after work.

When he arrives, his heart is beating out of his chest, and he can just feel it in his bones that something is not right. He knocks, and after a few moments, Jaemin opens the door.

"I see your legs better." Jaemin doesn't even bother with a hello.

"Yeah, thankfully," Mark replies, trying to keep up the formalities. "I'm back at work now, but I didn't see Y/N today? Have you guys spoken recently?"

"No I'm sorry; the last I heard from her was after she put in her two weeks." Jaemin replies nonchalantly.

"Bummer. Mind if I come in? I’d like to catch up with you." Mark knows it's no use but decides to take the chance anyway.

"Actually," Jaemin looks behind his shoulder, "right now isn't a good time. I'm sorry."

"It's ok, man, no problem. I'll be seeing you around." Mark waves as he bids Jaemin a polite goodbye.

Jaemin doesn't respond; he doesn't like the idea of running into Mark again and just watches as he retreats back down the hall.

Mark knows Jaemin is hiding something, and he was going to find out.

     ・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆

Jaemin shuts the door and locks it. He turns and heads down the hall towards your room. He unlocks the door from the outside and steps in. You're lying on the bed, reading manga. This was just one of the ways you spent your free time in your little makeshift prison. It seems like you really did need all that stuff he bought you on that Saturday all those months ago. Jaemin had this room fully furnished for you; the closet was stocked with all your clothes and more, and The fridge was full of your favorite foods and desserts. He had taken care of your lease at your old place and ended it. You don't need that anymore. The smart TV was now mounted on the wall, but you had already watched half of Netflix’s catalog by now. You have a nice view from your room. Jaemin allows some form of sunlight, but he had the windows altered so they don't open or break. You spend your time reading books. playing games or drawing. Jaemin spends a lot of time with you as well, but you still won't look at him.

"You had a visitor today; Mark came looking for you." Jaemin tells you casually, like he was just mentioning the weather.

This was the first time in 3 months that you looked at him for more than 5 seconds. Your eyes are hopeful as you sit up in bed.

"It seems like that caught your attention," he says humorlessly.

"Please don't hurt him, Jaem; he has nothing to do with this."

"I won't hurt him; I know how much you care for him. The same goes for Jaehyun. I love you, so I would never do anything to hurt you or make you sad," he pouts for the theatrics. "I just want you to love me back. You don't love me now, but time fixes everything. Until that day comes, you’ll be stuck in this room with me."

He's right in front of you now, softly stroking your hair as he smiles reassuringly at you. You want to move away from his touch, but his other hand comes up to grip your face, holding you in place. He lays a firm kiss on your lips, and this time you retaliate. You bite his lip hard enough to draw blood, but he doesn't pull away. He takes it. He smears his blood-covered mouth against yours and laughs as you whine in protest. Jaemin finally pulls away.

"Hurt me all you want; you're still mine."

You think he looks psychotic as he's standing in front of you, but even now, as blood trickles down his chin, you think his smile is still dazzling.

Maybe he's already destroyed you.

[octuscle]

I like the work the Chronivac did to “assist” that office. I definitely wouldn’t mind if my 9-5 colleagues were as inspired to hit the gym, instead. Maybe there’s a training video I can share with them?

Strictly speaking, you're not exactly a sporting ace… Okay, you go swimming twice a week. You eat a reasonably healthy diet. You're one of the fitter ones in the company. But you're also one of the youngest. You have advantages there… In any case, you've already submitted a proposal for a fitness program to the internal suggestion scheme. Let's see what effect that will have. But now you have to get on with your work.

After a few days, you will receive a parcel by internal mail. "Stephen, is that you?" you ask in amazement. Stephen is your age and has been in the post office for ages. He's actually a skinny, pimply guy who you've always felt sorry for. But now you're looking at a muscular jock who smells of sweat and musk. "My name is Steve, are you Robert Hitch?" "Dude, we've known each other for five years, you should know my name is Mike." Steve grins, shrugs his shoulders, puts the package on your desk, takes a deep breath from his armpit and says he doesn't give a shit.

Robert Hitch is your boss. Steve should have known that. The package is from Chronivac Inc. Doesn't tell you anything. But it's personally addressed to Robert. Although you actually have better things to do, you drop the package off at Robert's. He looks a little horrified. As if you had caught a child reaching into the candy drawer. He asks who the parcel is from. You shrug your shoulders. He wipes a little sweat from his forehead. But that's nothing special. The fat pig sweats all the time.

You forget the story after a few minutes. The stock markets are going crazy, you have your hands full. At some point during the evening, you receive an e-mail from Robert. It goes to the whole department. Subject: Mens sana in corpore sano. It's actually about promoting physical fitness. There is a link to a piece of software that you should download. You do that and go back to the risk profile of your bond portfolio.

Frederique and Jean-Paul are the two stars of your investment banking. Both have a knack for making quick and correct decisions. They are among the few people who are still at the bank at this time of day. You drop by for a chat with them. As usual, they are hardly distracted by the screens. When you ask them if they have downloaded the software, they just nod their heads. Have they looked at it yet? A shake of the head. Okay, you're not going to get into a conversation here.

When you come into the office the next morning, you see Marcus and James sitting spellbound in front of their screens. The two of them are staring at pictures of fitness models doing strength exercises. You ask if this has anything to do with the link from yesterday. James says he has no idea what that shit is about. He's here to work, not to exercise. Marcus nods. But neither of them turn their heads away from the screen for a second.

You ask if you should bring them a coffee. They both shake their heads. Marcus mumbles something about whether there are protein shakes in the coffee kitchen. You think it's a joke.

There are actually canisters of protein powder in the coffee kitchen. You think for a moment about whether you should really bring Marcus a shake. But why would he drink a protein shake? You regularly go out for lunch together. You've already talked about God and the world. But never about food supplements.

As you're on your way back to work with your coffee, it almost falls out of your hand. Marcus and James are sitting over their work again. So presumably. There are definitely two men sitting in their seats, working. But neither of them looks like Marcus. Or like James. They're both talking and every other word is "bro" or "fuck". But they're obviously working on the quarterly report again. Something is strange. Very strange.

As you pass Mr. Hitch's office, your coffee falls out of your hand. You stare at the person who sounds so much like Robert. As if Robert spoke a deep, well-trained bass. But the man looks different. "Shit, bruhs, we have to change da dress code. Shoulder coverings only optional from now on. Shit, bruhs! sun's out, guns out!"

Your productivity is limited. In the department chat, people who have never been interested in sport exchange tips on how to gain mass as quickly as possible. Steve drops off the mail and asks you if you know what a protein fart is. You shake your head and Steve shows you. Shit, that stinks unnaturally. Roaring laughter from the surrounding tables. Someone shouts "Attention, en voici un autre!" And shortly afterwards you hear the incredible sound of a fart. You get up and see who it came from. At Frederique and Jean-Paul's desk, two giants are having a lively discussion. Your French is not very good. But they're obviously arguing about whether the current share price of Chronivac Inc. is undervalued. The one you think is Frederique is flexing his tattooed biceps. And the other one laughs and says "Acheter! Acheter!"

You've never wanted an individual office so much. The air is cutting. Sweat, musk, protein farts. You take another look at Robert's email from last night. You open the link. And you can't take your eyes off the screen. You feel the urge to wank your boner. A wet spot forms on your pants… You take off your jacket with some difficulty. Phew, you stink of sweat. Ads for tank tops appear on the screen. Shit, if you don't go straight to the toilet and jerk off now, you're going to cum in your pants.

The toilet is very busy. You see how Robert has put one of his department heads against the wall and is shagging him. You stand at a urinal and take out your hard-on. Steve approaches from behind. You don't have to jerk off on your own, he is happy to help you.

[stigmalarity]

Crimson

miguel o'hara x f!reader, fluff, smut, blood drinking, vampiric qualities, fingering ☆ crossposted to ao3

———————————————————————————

Hey, everything okay? 

Call me back when you can.

I’m getting really worried — I know you weren’t feeling well last night, can you just let me know if you’re alive?

I’m coming over.

You let out a sigh, scrolling through your messages to Miguel over the past twelve hours. He’s not a big texter, but it’s odd for him to go this long without responding to you. When you’d seen him last night you could tell something was up, but he’d just waved you off after you’d asked if he was feeling alright.

He hadn’t only looked exhausted, he seemed seriously on edge, his responses stiff and almost strained. The two of you hadn’t planned much for the day, seeing as he was currently on “vacation” with Jess and Peter B. holding down the fort at HQ. Something about mandatory quarterly time off to protect the spiders’ mental health. You’d thought it was a nice policy.

It wasn’t long after you’d arrived at his apartment above the HQ that you noticed how dazed Miguel was, movements sluggish as he grabbed the remote from the coffee table, responding to you only after you’d had to repeat yourself.

After the third instance of this, you got a bit concerned. “You tired, baby? I wouldn’t mind a nap before we start the movie.”

He pauses, sighing. “I think I’m getting sick,” he said, running a palm over his face.

“Oh no, really? You sure?” you asked with concern, shifting toward him on the couch with one hand raised to press against his forehead. Miguel hardly ever got sick. In fact, you thought it wasn’t even possible.

Miguel pulled away from you, just out of your reach. “Don’t get too close. I don’t want you to catch whatever it is,” he said. “Honestly, you should just go home. We can watch the movie another day.”

You frowned, then. “I don’t care about the movie, baby. Have you eaten at all today?” you asked.

Miguel’s guilty pause was answer enough. 

“I can stay over,” you declared. “I’ll sleep on the couch, so you won’t get me sick. I don’t want you to have to do everything by yourself while you’re like this.

An odd look had crossed his face, then. Anxious, almost pained. “I’m not a child.”

Though he hadn’t snapped at you, the words had come out shockingly cold. “I can take care of myself. You don’t have to mother me.”

That took you by surprise, your eyes going wide. It was unlike Miguel to take that tone with you. “I-I’m not trying to-“ you stuttered, hurt bleeding into your tone. “I’m just worried,” you said, looking down at your hands in your lap.

His eyes softened as he took in the furrow of your brow. Another sigh. He sounded so tired.

“I’m sorry, I know,” he said, reaching his hand out to lace his fingers through yours. “I’m alright, querida. I really don’t want to get you sick. Just go home, okay? I’ll text you.”

You gave him a long look, then. He was paler than usual, dark rings under his eyes looking more pronounced as evidence to his exhaustion. You hated the thought of leaving him alone like that, but you didn’t want to push him.

“Okay, just-,” you sighed. “Just stay hydrated, and keep me updated on how you’re feeling. Call me if you need anything.”

He nodded, trailing after you to walk you to the door. “Text me when you get home. I love you,” he said, pressing a quick, chaste kiss to the top of your head.

Now, you were standing in front of Miguel’s door, a plastic bag full of supplies in your hand. Since you weren’t sure what he was sick with, you’d brought a few different medicines, a large water bottle, empanadas and some pozole. You decide that if he gets upset, you’ll just drop everything off and go back home. Though you might just force him to accept your care, depending on how ill he is.

You take another breath before pushing the door open.

“Miguel?” you call, looking around the entranceway. All the lights are off, save for the glow of the TV in the bedroom. You kick your shoes off, walking towards the light. A quick glance into the kitchen tells you that he has either been well enough to do his dishes (and not text you back), or that he just hasn’t eaten at all. Both possibilities worry you for different reasons.

When you reach the doorway to the bedroom, you finally spot your boyfriend swaddled underneath the comforter, seemingly out cold. The TV’s volume is low enough to have lulled him to sleep, and you can’t help the fondness you feel for him when you see the Ghibli movie he’s put on.

You pad towards the bed, carefully placing the bag on the nightstand and taking a seat beside him on the edge of the mattress. “Miguel?” you call gently, smoothing away the stray hairs matted against his sweaty hairline. The heat emanating from his skin makes your eyes go wide. “Shit, you’re burning up, baby.”

You lean forward, digging through the plastic bag for the cooling towelettes you’d picked up at the drugstore. Miguel shifts behind you as you search, the mattress sinking under his weight. By the time you turn your head he’s already sitting up, arms snaking around your waist to hug you from behind.

“Why’re you here?” he murmurs weakly. “Told you I could take care of myself.” There’s no malice in his tone. Just him, nosing into the side of your neck.

“You call this taking care of yourself?” you scoff, rolling your eyes. “Lay back down, Miguel.” You’ve got the cooling towelettes in your hand now, ready to slap one on his forehead and then maybe slap him for making you worry so much.

“You smell so good,” he sighs dreamily, tugging you backwards so that you’re practically in his lap. His grip is surprisingly strong for how ill he seems to be. “Shouldn’t have come. You should go home.”

“Stop hugging me before you tell me to go home,” you respond. But he just pulls you with him as he leans back against the headboard, pressing little kisses along your neck and awakening butterflies in your stomach. It’s so warm and comfortable having him pressed against your back that you nearly forget why you came in the first place.

“Hey! Come on, Miguel. Stop being weird. I thought you didn’t want to get me sick?” you frown, smacking lightly at his arms. “I brought medicine and stuff. We have to get your fever down.”

“It’s not going to help. M’not sick like that,” he slurs, exhaustion tinging his voice.

“What do you mean, you’re not sick like that? You have a fever, baby,” you say, twisting at the waist to press the towelette to his forehead. “You gotta drink some water next.”

“Don’t need water.”

“Stop being difficult,” you sigh.

“I’m not trying to be,” he says, breath hot at your neck. “You smell so good.”

“You said that already,” you say, cheeks heating. 

He may be sick, but it’s never taken much for Miguel to get you flustered. You’re feeling the effect he has on you especially hard now, with his towering form swelteringly hot and wrapped around you like this.

You sigh as his hands slide underneath the hem of your shirt, rough hands skirting along the skin of your waist. 

“Can you just let me take care of you, please? At least take some of the medicine I bought you -”

“M’not sick like that,” he sighs, switching to open-mouthed kisses along the side of your throat that have your breath shallowing.

“You’re repeating yourself again,” you murmur, though you’re not really focused on what you’re saying as he hums against your neck. 

“Miguel,” you start again, sliding a hand along the back of his neck and threading your fingers through the hair at his nape. “You keep saying weird stuff. What are you talking about?” 

Miguel shudders behind you as your nails graze his skin, and his forehead drops to your shoulder. “You love me, right?” he asks, voice barely a whisper.

“You know I do.”

“Mmm, need you to say it.”

“I love you, Miguel.”

“You wanna take care of me?” He asks, lips pressing against your shoulder blade.

“Any way I can,” you whisper. You have the inkling feeling that he expects you to respond badly to whatever he’s about to tell you, but whatever it is, you know you’ll be with him for the long run.

“M’not sick with the flu,” he slurs, turning his head against your shoulder to meet your gaze. He’s still so handsome, even like this.

“Can’t get you sick. I’m- m’thirsty,” he breathes, warm breath huffing over your skin. 

“For blood.”

“Blood?” you ask, brows furrowing. “Like, like you want to kill someone or-”

“It’s a spider thing. My specific genetic makeup gives me more… vampiric qualities,” he interrupts, though a light smile stretches across his pallid face at your assumption.

“M’sorry I- I should have told you from the start,” he adds. It looks exhausting for him to even get the words out, but to add even one more shred of context while he’s in this state, he’ll do it. “I usually have a stock of blood bags on-hand, but there was a situation in the med bay. They needed it more than me. It’s why I’ve been off for a few days. With no blood, my powers are on low output.”

You pause, absorbing the information. He has no reason to lie to you.

“O-okay,” you say.

“Okay?”

“Okay,” you repeat. “Do you know when they’ll have-”

You freeze when another violent shudder rips through him, and both of you are reminded of the reason why he’s told you all this in the first place.

“Miguel, you can drink from me, right?”  You ask gently, cupping his face in your palms. He’s getting even warmer, you think, watching a drop of sweat slide down his temple. “C-can you just bite me? Does it work like that?”

He can only hum an affirmative, brows furrowed and eyes screwed shut at the awful lurching in his belly.

“Okay- okay baby, go ahead,” you say, peeling your shirt off and tossing it aside as you turn back around and bring a hand up to the back of his neck, guiding him into yours.

His mouth hovers over your neck, warm breath whispering over your skin. “You trust me?” he mumbles weakly.

“Yes,” you respond hastily, tilting your neck for him as he presses a gentle, lingering kiss to your skin. “Yes, of course.”

That’s all he needs to hear. His mouth opens wide, and he bites.

You jerk as pain blooms along your pulse point, but Miguel’s arms hold you in place, four little incisions from his fangs drawing blood to the surface. Then he sucks, audibly swallowing down a mouthful of your blood, your fingers tightening in his hair at the sensation. It had hurt when he’d bitten you, but now… you’re not so sure.

“It- it’s okay, baby, it’s okay,” you whisper, loosening your grip on his hair and combing through it in apology. “This’ll make you feel better right? T-take as much as you need.”

Miguel moans against your throat at your go-ahead. For a few moments you’re stiff, avoiding any movement that could jostle his fangs in your neck. He uses his hands to soothe you, resuming their movement against your skin, palms running up and down your sides in a gentle caress.

In moments you’re feeling warm all over, loose and comfortable in Miguel’s arms. The feeling of his feverish hands on you is so nice, every sensation heightened though you’ve gotten so lax — like there’s nothing you can do but take what he gives you and feel.

You’re surprised at how quickly the pain completely subsides, your senses focusing in on the feeling of his hands on your skin and the pleasurable heat spreading outwards from the bite. That sensation you’d picked up when he’d first bitten you – it’s clearer now, making your mind hazy. His venom.

—

Miguel lets his eyes flutter closed as he finally tastes your blood. He’s always loved the scent of you, but your taste is so much more concentrated, sends his mind to mush.

It had never been this difficult for him to curb his thirst for you in the past. For all the years he’s known you, he’d never needed to push you away like last night to keep from biting you. The throbbing in his gums had been so painful then, the scent of your skin so near. Even now, the conscious part of him feels guilty for biting you without a more extensive explanation. This isn’t how he’d wanted you to find out, but the euphoria of finally quenching his thirst far outweighs his hesitance to continue.

You’re feeling the effects of his venom now, he’s sure of it. He can feel it under his lips, your pulse slowing beneath your skin as you relax into him. He’s drinking slow, hyper aware of how much he’s taking. He wants to make this last so that he can show you that it isn’t something to be afraid of.

His eyelids lift, dark eyes looking down at his hands splayed across your skin. The sight that greets him is tempting; your skirt is rucked up around your thighs, the fabric just barely covering what lies underneath. The straps of your bra had fallen down your shoulders in your haste to pull him towards your neck, and he takes a deep breath through his nose as his gaze roves over the swell of your chest underneath the lacy edge. 

He can’t see your face at this angle, but he knows your body. He knows how needy you’re getting, soft pants echoing in the quiet room as you rub your thighs together under his gaze. His venom has you the same as him, after all — achy and wanting.

A different kind of thirst plagues him now, one that has his cock throbbing where it’s pressed up against your ass. And with the taste of your blood coating his tongue – making his head spin, he thinks he might go mad from how badly he wants you.

His hands leave your waist, skirting up over your belly to reach your chest. Gently, he tugs the cups of your bra down, bringing both his hands to your tits and squeezing. The moan you let out when he tweaks your nipples is so wanton that he can’t help but echo you.

“Sensitive,” you breathe. “Feels good.”

I know, he thinks. And he’s hoping to make it feel even better.

He drops a hand down to your thighs, sliding his palm lazily along your skin as he eases them open. You’re so pliant, spreading your legs wide so that he can feel the softness of your inner thigh beneath your skirt. You really are so sensitive, breathing out a soft sound as his fingers skate upwards until he grazes the hem of your panties, teasing.

“More, Miguel,” you whine. “Please, want more.”

And who is he to deny you?

He takes one last gulp before pulling away from your neck, licking blood from his lips. He’s taken enough for now. What he really wants is to see how your body reacts to his venom – how much harder he can make you cum while you’re under its effects. 

“You’re so wet, amor,” he marvels, finally sliding his fingers over your covered slit and feeling the wetness soaking through your underwear.

You whine as he brings his digits to your clit, rubbing little circles to the bud over the fabric while his free hand wraps gently around your throat. “How are you feeling?” he asks carefully.

“So good, Miguel,” you murmur hazily. “Feels amazing.”

“Does it?” he asks carefully, licking away at the blood oozing from the bite.

You nod against his chest, and a little mewl escapes you when he presses his fingers in just a bit harder. “M’so sensitive.”

“It’s my venom,” he says. “It’s supposed to make you let your guard down — stop you from struggling.”

“Not that you are,” he adds, huffing a soft laugh against your skin.

Your head lolls back against his shoulder as he continues playing with your clit. You’re so cute that he can hardly resist dipping his head, sweetly brushing his nose against yours before meeting your mouth. You’re so eager, sighing into the kiss and reaching your hand up to his cheek, pulling him closer despite the coppery tang of your blood coating his tongue.

He’s no better off, on a high after finally satisfying the thirst that had him run ragged for days. Any other time he would have touched you slowly, running his hands and his lips over your skin before reaching this point, but all he can think of is you. He can feel his cock spilling pre into his sweats, but the press of your ass against him is enough to relieve some of the tension. All he wants now is to make you cum hard, and to make you cum fast.

He can tell that you’re getting close, lashes brushing against his cheek and rhythmic little pants breaching your lips as you grind backwards into his lap. You’ve still got one hand on the back of his neck, and he can feel your nails giving him crescent-shaped bite marks of his own.

The taste of your blood is still fresh on his tongue, but he already wants another bite — wants to feel the way your pulse jumps under his lips and your blood rushes into his mouth when you cum. And once he’s had his fill, he’ll fuck you all boneless and lazy into the mattress, if you want it. You won’t have to lift a finger. He has to pay you back for taking care of him, after all.

You whine as his fingers leave your clit to wrap around the waistband of your underwear. “Shh, it’s okay,” he murmurs, tugging the lace down and cooing praise into your ear as you lift your hips for him.

“Good girl, ángel. Being so good for me,” he says against your lips, dropping your underwear to the ground before bringing his hand back to your pussy to spread your folds open for him. His cock throbs at the sight of your little hole fluttering around nothing. He’ll make sure to fill it up for you soon enough.

You whine as the hand on your throat moves to your jaw, tilting your neck just a bit further for him so he can lap at the bite mark there. 

“You taste so sweet, querida. Will you be okay if I keep going?” he asks, fingers rolling over your bare clit while he waits for you to answer. Some part of him is still hesitant, still wants to make sure you’re alright with him like this.

“Y-yeah, please, Miguel — it felt so good before.”

He hides his smile in the curve of your throat, nosing lovingly into your skin at your response. He’s always happy making you feel good, but this time it’s different. He’s not just giving — he’s taking, too. So he needs to make it all up to you.

“Yeah?” he asks. “Think you’ll cum if I bite you again?”

“I-I might,” you breathe. He can tell — you’re so tense, veins straining beneath his lips as his middle finger dips into your entrance. “I want it.”

“Good,” he murmurs, sliding his finger inside you to the knuckle as you let out another shuddering moan. “Just relax for me, mi amor. Relax for me and I’ll give you what you want — that’s it,” he coos, pumping slowly in and out. You’re so tight, walls pulsing around the digit even as you rest your weight against his chest, trying to follow his instructions. 

“That’s it, good job, ángel.” he says, pulling all the way out just to push back in with two fingers, his own breath stuttering at the way your pussy sucks them in deeper at the stretch. “It won’t hurt this time if you’re relaxed, okay?”

You let out a little hum of affirmation, cheek sliding against his hair as his fangs graze over the juncture between your neck and your shoulder. He can spot your reflection in the mirror on the dresser at this angle, and the sight has him biting down, injecting you with another dose of his sweet venom.

He can’t tear his eyes away from the mirror, watching you writhe with pleasure; eyes screwed shut, pretty mouth agape, lips swollen and smeared with red, tits spilling out over the cups of your bra. His eyes drink it all in, and his stomach lurches when his gaze drops down to watch his fingers fuck you open just the way you like it.

You’d already been so close before he’d pulled away earlier. It’s not long before you’re trembling in his hold, walls getting tighter and tighter around his fingers as he pushes you closer to the edge. He wants you to cum — fucks his fingers into you a little harder, a little faster, prodding upwards just to moan against your skin when he feels a little burst of wetness hit his palm as he hits your favorite spot.

You’re slurring your words, practically drooling as you tell him how good it is, how close you are. 

He gets to watch it all in the mirror — the sight of you spread open and dripping around his fingers is so obscene that it’s a wonder how he doesn’t cum in his pants. Most especially when your hips jerk, catching his tip in the slippery mess dripping down to your ass.

“Cumming, cumming-“ you cry, breath hitching as he finally brings you to your peak.

There’s blood slipping past the seal of his mouth and dripping down your shoulder as he fucks his fingers in faster, banging against your spot to fuck more squirt out of you, spraying across his wrist and up to his forearm. Your blood gets so hot when you cum, the flavor sweetening in his mouth as it spikes with endorphins and makes his mind hazy.

Miguel pulls his fangs out of your neck and his fingers out of your pussy, resting his hands on your hips. He holds you steady as he drops his head down to your shoulder blade, flattening his tongue against your skin to chase a crimson bead rolling down your back. You let out a tired moan as he presses a trail of kisses from your neck to your hair, arms wrapping back around your waist.

“You did so well, mi amor,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the space behind your ear. “Thank you for taking care of me.”

You hum sleepily as Miguel continues to shower you with affection, barely registering his movements as he reaches for the plastic bag you’d left on the nightstand and pulls out the bottle of water you’d originally bought for him. 

He thinks he may have overdone it, making you cum so hard while so low on blood, but you deserve it. You deserve the world.

“Drink up, ángel,” he says, lifting the bottle up to your lips and coaxing you into taking a few sips. Once he’s satisfied with your intake, he sets the bottle on the counter, using the extra towelette in the bag to wipe your cum from his fingers before pulling an empanada out for you.

He’s still cradling you against his chest, legs all tangled up with his as you twist into him, nudging your cheek against the fabric of his shirt.

“How are you feeling?” you ask, looking up at him through your lashes.

“I should be asking you that question,” he replies, dropping the wrapper into the plastic bag. “I’m fine, thanks to you. But you lost a lot of blood. You need to eat something, okay?”

He lifts the empanada to your mouth and watches you take a bite. The two of you are quiet as he feeds you, and once you’re finished, you lean forward to kiss the tips of his fingers. The action is so loving that it makes him shiver.

“You’re really okay with this? With me?” Miguel asks, skirting the back of his index finger over your cheekbone. The two of you are lying down now, your head on his chest as he runs a palm over your back. You’re still so sensitive, his touch sending shivers down your spine.

“Of course I am, Miguel,” you say, peering up at him through your lashes. “I love you.”

He lets out a shuddering breath as you cup his cheek, the softness in your tone making his heart throb. He turns his head, pressing a kiss into your palm.

“I love you, querida,” he murmurs into your skin. “Thank you.”

[kdogreads]

Y/n is close with Abby like the mom figure to Gibbs being her dad figure. Gibbs and y/n have only ever had words in passing They are always friendly with a flirt now and then. One day Gibbs uses Abby's cot to get some rest he wakes up to y/n and Abby talking about blind dates.

"Y/n I'm gonna find you a companion in life. Just do one more date"

*y/n sighs* "I'm just not the type of person people are looking for and that's ok"

*as she leaves the lab* "Abs some people are ment to be alone"

Gibbs comes out telling Abby that he will be taking y/n on the next date.

This is such a sweet idea!! I’m sticking it with this request bc I feel like they just fit together so perfectly. I hope that’s okay by both of you 🥹 thank you so much for the love!

Jethro Gibbs x f!reader

TW: alcohol, a smidge of angst (reader thinks she’ll be forever alone), mostly just a heap of fluff

A/N: I’ve never been able to use any of my nerdy lab knowledge in a fic before so sorry if I went a little overboard lmao (I’m a pre-analytical training coordinator and spend my days teaching people to be labbies basically). Thank you so so so much for reading! ❤️

Just before you left for the day, you decided to head down to the lab check in on Abby. It was quality control week, meaning she had to got to run test patients on all of her instruments, confirm the results are what they should be, order biological indicator tests to make sure no foreign bacteria snuck its way in where it shouldn’t have, then do it all over again a dozen or so times to make sure the results match up.

Not that Abby is anything less than capable of completing the quarterly checks, it just gets very tedious, and Abby is not a fan of busy work.

“Hey Abs,” You greeted her sweetly.

“There is no Abby, only QC’s,” She quipped back in her best robot voice.

You only chuckled in response and grabbed a pair of gloves without another word. You started resulting the tests in her queue, a feeble attempt to help the boring task move along faster.

The two of you worked quietly on opposite sides of the lab for another half hour until you moved the last tube into the “finished” tray.

“Wanna grab some dinner?” You questioned, removing your gloves and heading over to the sink to wash your hands.

“No, thanks; already ate,” Abby responded without looking up from her work, “Hey! How did that date go last night? I can’t believe I forgot until now! Tell me everything.”

Abby turned towards you excitedly, her eyes bright and body fidgeting in anticipation. You swear she was more invested in your love life than you were sometimes.

You started to shake your head “no” and Abby let out a loud groan.

“Ugh! I had such a good feeling about this one,” She spoke in disappointment.

“You said that the last time, too, Abs,” You leaned against the counter and crossed your arms lazily, “He asked me to meet his mom. On the first date!”

Abby visibly cringed and put a hand lovingly on your bicep.

“I’m gonna find you a companion, I swear it!”

You let out a sound that’s half laugh, half sigh before you speak, “It’s okay, really. I’m just not the type of person anyone is looking for, and I can’t find the person I’m looking for. It’s just the way it is, Abby.”

She sent you a sympathetic look, squeezing your arm in reassurance. Abby pulled you into a tight hug, like she was trying to will a new love life into you with her bare hands.

You sent her a loving smile when she finally pulled away from you.

“Well, I’m gonna head out. You sure I can’t drag you away for something to eat?”

“No, no. I have too much to get done,” She motions to the empty tubes behind her, “Don’t lose hope, Boss Lady. Your perfect man is out there.”

You headed towards the door before turning around to tell her goodbye, “Some people are just meant to be alone. It’ll be me and the dogs forever,” You smiled slightly, “Goodnight, Abs.”

You made it almost out the door of the NCIS building before you realized you left your purse in the lab. With a huff, you begrudgingly dragged yourself back into the elevator, down to the lab, and right up to the doorway. The surprise of two distinct voices coming from within stopped you in your tracks.

“Gibbs! You can’t sneak up on me like that! I didn’t know you were using the cot.”

“Sorry, Abs. You often set her up on blind dates?”

“Yes! I am determined to find my wonderful boss’ soulmate somewhere in the greater DC area.”

Jethro chuckles.

“I can’t believe I didn’t see it before now! She’s just your type, Gibbs, and she’s so fun and cryptic just like you and—“

“Abby,” He paused, “Way ahead of you.”

You decided now was your chance. Knocking gently on the doorframe, both of them turned their heads to see who was there.

“Hey Abby; Jethro,” You smiled, trying not to act like you just heard their whole conversation about you, “I just, uh, left my purse.”

Abby looked around and spotted your bag, handing it to you with a cheeky grin on her face. You all stood there in semi-uncomfortable silence for a beat before Gibbs spoke.

“Have any plans tomorrow night, Red?”

You straightened up a bit at his question and the playful nickname. You are just his type.

“Um, no. I don’t. Not yet, anyway.” You tried to keep an even tone, but the nerves and excitement were practically seeping out of your pours.

“My place, 7 o’clock,” Gibbs said in his nonchalant tone, “Casual. Hope you like bourbon.”

He winked at you and walked out of the lab before you could even exhale the breathe you hadn’t known you were holding. You looked at Abby, your eyes wider than ever before.

“Eee! I’m so excited!” Abby squeals and flings her arms around you.

You couldn’t even put any thoughts together. Your heart pounded out of your chest and your hands must’ve been shaking, the adrenaline of the situation just starting to wear off.

“Come on,” Abby said while sliding her jacket off the back of her chair, “I’ll finish up tomorrow. We have to plan your date. With Gibbs!”

You let out a laugh and wrapped an arm over Abby’s shoulders, heading out to grab something to eat.

You nervously sifted through your tops, trying to find something that felt “casual,” as Jethro had requested, but still nice enough for a date.

Oh screw it.

You grabbed a plain olive green hoodie, the big white letters reading NCIS. You figured if he asked for casual, he would get casual.

The drive to Gibbs’ house went quickly. You’d been there once before, when Abby insisted Gibbs needed company one New Year’s Eve. You didn’t end up staying very long, but he left an impression on you. After the visit, Gibbs started stopping to say “hello” in the hallways at work, or bringing a coffee up your office every now and then.

One detail you remembered from your brief visit is the front door was never locked, so you didn’t bother to stop and knock.

Walking through the doorway, your eyes immediately gravitated to the only light on in the house — the one leading down the stairs to the basement. You took this as your sign to invite yourself downstairs.

The stairs creaked slightly as you made your way down, the sounds of sandpaper meeting wood filled your ears.

“You found the place,” Jethro’s strong voice greeted you as you stepped into his workspace.

“How could I forget?” You teased back.

Jethro let out a honey-soaked chuckle and offered you a stool to sit on. He poured you two fingers out of his half-empty bottle of bourbon, then did the same for himself. He tipped his glass to you and you tapped yours against it with a slight clink.

You shut your eyes as the amber liquid burned down your throat. Instinctively, you leaned back against the counter and let out an exhale.

“Long day?” Jethro joked, but you could see the genuine care when you opened your eyes to meet his gaze.

“Long week,” You responded before taking another sip, “Abby’s up to her eyeballs in evidence to examine, plus all this QC crap takes so much time. I just feel bad I can’t help her more. I didn’t realize taking the lead forensics position would take me out of the lab so much.”

Jethro nodded in understanding, one corner of his mouth tilting up slightly as he poured more into your already empty cup.

“Abby’s the best of the best,” He said with confidence, placing a hand reassuringly on your knee, “She’ll get it done.”

You smiled and nodded back at him, placing your hand over his as a silent thank you.

You were surprised when Jethro broke the comfortable silence first.

“You know she thinks the world of you, Red,” He said with a look in his eye, one that almost looked like pride if you had to guess.

You felt your cheeks get hot and you looked down at your shoes, unsure if the liquor or his sweet comment made you blush.

You took another sip before lifting your head back up and responding.

“Same goes for you, Jethro,” You reached out to grab the hand that rested on your knee just moments before, “I think if she had time to write a book about how much she adores you, she would.”

He laughed, a full laugh, glazed in honey and bourbon and it warmed you to your core. You thought that sound could end wars, cause the devil himself to crack a smile. You would have melted right there if he didn’t jolt you out of your trance a moment later.

He took the glass from your hand and whispered a quick, “c’mere.”

He took your hand and led you over to the boat he was building. He showed you a few small hand tools and gave you a quick explanation of their use.

Before long, his hands were resting over yours, your back pressed gently against his chest as he showed you the different sanding techniques he used. Though every inch of his body was pressed against yours, you’d never felt so free, so held and yet, so comfortable.

It was a quiet few minutes before he spoke, his lips inches from your ear.

“You ever done this before?” His breath tickled your neck and sent a shiver down your spine.

“Never,” You breathed, trying your hardest not to just melt into his strong arms.

“You’re a natural then.”

He slowly peeled his hands back from yours, allowing you to keep sanding on your own for a moment. You felt his strong hands slide down your arms, your sides, before settling on your hips.

Your eyelids fluttered, suddenly aware of the effect he had on you. Your movements halted and Jethro raised a hand cautiously to your chin, turning your head to face him.

“This okay?” He questioned gently, a worried look settled into his furrowed brows.

You didn’t answer immediately. Instead, turning your whole body to face his, your arms sliding over his broad shoulders to rest at the back of his neck.

“Only if you intend to kiss me, Jethro,” His name danced from your lips in a whisper.

A soft smile spread across his face, the worry melting away in an instant.

“Yes, ma’am, I do.”

Before you could comprehend, the hand that was still on your chin drifted to hold you just below your ear, and his lips melted into yours in a sweet, slow kiss.

He tasted of bourbon and something you were sure was just distinctly him.

You leaned further into him as your lips met over and over again. His presence wasn’t demanding, but invasive. You felt Jethro in every inch of your body; his taste, his smell, the way his fingers gripped into your hip like he was afraid you might disappear if he let go.

The seconds felt like hours before you separated your lips, both of you desperate for oxygen. Your chest heaved slightly as he drew small circles onto your lower back absentmindedly; his forehead leaning down to rest on yours.

“Do you bring all the girls down here and make out like teenagers?” You teased, still slightly out of breathe.

He threw his head back in another honey-glazed laugh. It invaded your sense just as his kiss had.

God, you though, I could listen to that forever.

“No,” He huffed, a wide smile still spread across his face, “Only the special ones.”

“Ohh,” You exaggerated, “So I’m special, then?”

He only growled an Mmmhhmm before his lips pressed into yours once more, this time slightly quicker than the time before.

“Hungry?” He asked simply, prying his lips from yours, a slight groan falling from your lips as he pulled away.

“Starving,” You replied without missing a beat.

He raised an eyebrow and leaned slightly further away from you, letting him see your full expression.

“For food, sweetheart,” He jested, a hint of teasing in his voice.

“I know!” You squeaked, swatting his shoulder playfully in protest.

He chuckled that charming laugh and nodded his head towards the stairs.

“Well, come on then,” He spoke after pressing a quick peck to your lips.

You followed Jethro upstairs where you enjoyed a delicious homemade dinner and spend the rest of the evening basking in each other’s company.

You sighed as you reached the top of the stairs, just outside your office. Since you rarely locked the door, you turned the handle and swung it open. You were surprised to see the light already switched on. A pit formed in your stomach as your eyes scanned the room before—

“Jesus, Abby!” You found her sitting at your desk chair, literally shaking in anticipation, “You almost gave me a heart attack!”

“Sorry, I’m sorry,” She quickly approached you, taking your bag out of your hand and setting it down in the desk, “Sooo? I’m dying to know! Tell me everything!”

“Ab,” You smiled at her an tilted your head slightly in a playful manner, “A girl should never kiss and tell.”

Abby squealed in excitement and pulled you into a hug, clearly understanding that it went well enough for you to kiss him.

“Please tell me you’re seeing him again. Please, please, please,” She practically begged with her hand folded in front of her.

“Tomorrow, after work,” You smiled as she squealed and pulled you into another excited hug.

“This is the best day ever!” She declared and sat in the comfy chair across from your desk, determined to get all the details from your life-changing first date with Jethro Gibbs.

[gallifreyriver]

So, Kellogg's Boycott. Again. Haven't seen any posts about it here yet, so figured I'd make one.

In short: We're all tired of these big companies gouging their prices just because they can, and calling it 'inflation.' We're tired of companies announcing record profits while they cut bonuses/lay people off/force workers to run on skeleton crews/etc. We're tired of "Shrinkflation" And we're tired of a bunch of other shit too, but you get my point.

So, vote with your wallet.

On April 1st, stop buying Kellogg's, and keep that up until June 30th. Just three months- just one quarter of the fiscal year. Companies report earnings each quarter, and if their earnings drop it will reflect in these quarterly reports.

Why Kellogg's?

Because their CEO recently pulled a "Let them eat cake." TLDR; Kellogg's has raised prices by 28% across the board, bragged about record breaking profits, and then suggested that families struggling to afford groceries, because of aforementioned price gouging, just "eat cereal for dinner!"

And well, that message was not well received by anyone, as one could imagine. Pissed a lot of people off.

So yeah. The plan is to stop buying any Kellogg's products (below) for the entirety of the second quarter (April 1st-June 30th) and to collectively tell Kellogg to fuck off until they lower their prices. The goal isn't to "destroy the company" or cost anyone their jobs- but we will hit them where they will listen. Their profits.

If they don't listen, then we don't come back, and we start in on the next company, and keep going until they all get the message. There's always alternatives (more on that below) and we don't need them. If they refuse to drop their prices, then we just stick with the alternatives we found.

Three months is a minor inconvenience to teach a corporation a lesson, and we can do it.

So, take this month before April to find your alternatives. If you need help, I based a non-comprehensive list (below) off the image above. There's tons more just a google search away, and I bet others have made lists as well. There's also always the option to make your own. There's tons of recipes online showing how to make dupes of your favorite products.

Some things to note:

Don't go stocking up on your favorite Kellogg's products the last week of March and think you're not crossing the picket line. The point is to make Kellogg's feel the loss in profits, and stocking up on Cheez-its beforehand will defeat the purpose. I sincerely promise you can make it three months without buying Kellogg's. Again, three months is a minor inconvenience to teach a corporation a lesson, and we can do it.

That said, Safe Foods are acknowledged. If you or your child is neurodivergent and has issues with food (i.e: literally won't be won't be able to eat at all without their safe food) you get a pass. By all means feel free to try and find alternatives, but it's very unlikely that the few who can't boycott will cause it to fail. There should be plenty of the rest of us to pick up the slack.

Don't be a bystander- meaning don't go about this thinking "Oh, well surely there's enough people boycotting that it's fine if I just-" No. If we ever want things to change then we need to be strong enough to do even something as small as not buying something we like for three months. Furthermore, it's on those of us who can afford Kellogg's products to boycott Kellogg's. It's not the responsibility of those who already can't afford Eggos to boycott Eggos. Nothing will change if you go about just assuming everyone else already has it handled for you. Take a stand.

And importantly, Spread the word. This only works if we let as many people as possible know about it.

So reblog this post, or make your own post, or both. Even feel free to copy and paste this entire post off-platform if you need to. I've also seen some suggest making flyers, or even just writing on post-it notes, and sticking them to Kellogg's products in the store to spread the word off-line.

Just get the word out there. If we ever want these companies to stop gouging us for every cent we've earned, then we have to make a stand somewhere.

If we do nothing it will only ever get worse.

[tojisbbygworl]

Open House - Toji Fushiguro x Black!Reader - FFL Series

Summary: Toji was never one to go to open houses; he found them useless and a waste of time, money, and energy. Unfortunately for him, his lovely new wife was adamant on attending. Toji - 29, You - 26, Megumi - 9

Characters: Toji, Megumi, Yuuji

Words: 3,894

Tags: Family/Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Suggestive Content (bcs Toji can’t help himself), Toji’s a Good Dad

Disclaimer: This work is part of a Black!Reader x Toji series I started called Fushiguro Family Life. It's basically a slice of life series with you, Toji and Megumi. None of them are in order and can be read on their own unless stated otherwise.

AO3 Version

My AO3

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

authors note: Heyyyyyyy everybody! Very happy that I finally finished this. I love how it ended up and I hope y'all will like it as well! I hope Toji isn't unlikeable here, part of the reason it took so long. Where they live is not specified, but it is heavily based on American culture, so the way Megumi's school is set up is based off of American elementary schools. Okay, I think that's all. Enjoy!

“I can’t wait for my mom to see my project. Ms. Ieiri said I had the best one.”

“She only said that because she didn’t want you to cry like you always do, Miwa.”

Megumi snickered at Yuuji’s jab. They were on the bus finally going back home after a long school day. Him and Yuuji sat together, Yuuji doing most of the talking to the other students like usual.

“I can’t wait for the butterflies to hatch,” Yuuji said excitedly. “My dad’s gonna love them.”

“Butterflies don’t hatch, stupid.” Miwa threw a balled up piece of paper at him. “They sprout.”

“Nuh-uh!”

“Yeah-huh!”

“Hey, Megumi,” The boy looked up at the seat in front of him. Yuta Okkotsu peered down at him over the top. “Is your dad coming to see the butterflies?”

He was referring to the class project. All of 4th grade was learning about the process of metamorphosis and the school had a raffle to see which class won the opportunity to care for a bunch of caterpillars and get to see them as butterflies. Their class won and their teacher decided to showcase the butterflies at the school’s quarterly open houses.

Megumi gingerly shook his head. “Dad never comes to open houses.”

“But you were the one who watched their temperature everyday! So like, you basically made them.” Yuuji stops his argument with Miwa to interject.

All Megumi could do was shrug before the bus finally reached his stop. They all waved goodbye to him as he hopped off with a few other kids. Walking down the street to his house, the smile that was on his face began to drop. While he loves his dad, he wishes he would be more involved in his schooling. On field trips he saw his friends’ parents be volunteer chaperones and whenever the school had events, like the semester kick off, their whole families would be there. His dad didn’t seem to care about those things. He only ever asked him if he did his homework, only emailed the teacher about grades, and only went to parent-teacher conferences which he despised.

His new mom, you, wasn’t really involved either. Megumi doesn’t blame you though. He’s sure you just don’t want to overstep any boundaries or make anyone uncomfortable despite his bio mom not really caring. Actually, his mom didn’t care about anything he did either. Not even his grades or behavior in school. Huh. Maybe that’s why dad divorced her.

Megumi’s got to see those butterflies no matter what it takes. He should talk to you about it. Maybe he can convince you. Because Mom and Dad aren’t going to be moved.

He sees you sitting in your car in the driveway. You usually do get home whenever Megumi does. This would be the perfect time to talk to you without his love sick dad interfering and trying to get your attention. You seemed to be eating something, so you weren’t paying attention to your surroundings. He taps on the door and you look up, frantically trying to hide your food.

When you realize it’s Megumi, you relax. You unlock your door and he opens it up. “Hey, baby,” you tell him endearingly.

He smiles widely at you. “Hey, Y/N.” He looks down at your lap to see a Chipotle bowl sitting in your lap. You were almost done with it. “You got Chipotle?”

“I had it for my lunch but I didn’t finish it,” you explain, taking another bite. “I want to eat it before your dad sees it so he doesn’t try and get any.” Megumi giggles. His dad does have a bad reputation of stealing his and your food. “You can have some, though.”

Megumi hops in the car and closes the door, taking the bowl from your hands. He eats a few bites and hands it back to you. The both of you continue to exchange the bowl, finishing it quickly. It’s when you two are at the last few bites that you speak up. “So, how was school today?”

“Really good! We got our projects back today.”

“The one where you draw the metamorphosis cycle?”

Megumi nods and swallows the food in his mouth. “Uhm, I actually wanted to talk to you about something.” You get a worried look on your face and he quickly dismisses it. “No, it’s nothing bad. I just…uhm…here.” He reaches into his book bag and pulls out a folder. In the folder, he pulls out a sheet of paper and hands it to you. Looking at it, you gasp in excitement. It was an RSVP slip for the coming open house.

“You want me to go to your open house?” You ask him happily. Megumi blushes and nods.

“Only if you want to,” he quickly says.

“Of course I do, honey!” You pulled out a pen from your purse and quickly wrote your name. And then you wrote Toji’s. Megumi’s smile dropped and he gulped. You looked over at him. “What’s wrong? Do you not want your dad to come?”

“I…I do. It’s just…dad…doesn’t want to come.”

You raised a brow. “Oh?”

Megumi scratched his head. “He thinks they’re a waste of time. He only goes to conferences and stuff.”

You get a look of realization on your face. “Oh. Is that why I never hear anything about school?” Megumi nods. You become deep in thought and your brows start to furrow. “Hmph. He won’t think that for long, Megumi. I promise.” You hand the paper back to him and he puts it in his folder, just slightly anxious about what the future may hold. But, you were very excited too. You also hand him the bowl to finish and excitedly, he takes it.

Just before his last bite, there’s a slam on his window. You and Megumi look up at the giant hand belonging to Toji. You still looked irritated.

Megumi rolls down the window. “What do you want, old man?”

“Hey, I’m still in my 20s,” he answers.

“Barely!”

“What the hell are you two doing in here, huh?” He asks. He looks down at his son’s hands. He jerks his head to the side and stares at you incredulously. “So you got Chipotle for the both of you and didn’t want to bring me any?”

You gave him a hard blink, still annoyed by what Megumi just told you. “You don’t deserve a bowl.” You say, half jokingly.

“What did I do?” He asks. You don’t answer, instead you goad Megumi to finish it and exit the car. Toji watches his son eat the last bite and smile at him, rolling the window back up and opening the door. Megumi hands Toji the trash and walks inside with his stepmother leaving his butt hurt dad in the driveway.

-

It’s past 9 when you enter Megumi’s room to check on him. You knock a few times to make sure he hears it just in case he has any headphones in. He does and you hear some shuffling before he finally shouts, “Come in!”

You open the door to the dark room with only his bed being lit up by his night light which you have sworn to secrecy to never tell his friends that he still needs it. You smile at him snuggled up in his sheets. “Did I wake you?” You ask him, already knowing the answer. Megumi shakes his head.

“Okay. Good night then.” You tell him, blowing him a kiss.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” he tells you, ready to whip out his switch that was hiding under his pillow when the door closes. “Oh, wait, Y/N?”

You enter back into the doorway. “Yes?”

Megumi hesitates to ask you, but he gathers up his courage. “Is dad really going to come to the open house this time?” he asks.

He relaxes when you give him your sweet smile. “I promise he will,” you tell him.

With that Megumi nods and turns over leaving you to close his door and head to your own room, already knowing Toji’s going to have a time trying to wake him up tomorrow. He really thinks he’s slick pretending that he doesn’t play on his switch when he should be asleep, but you can always tell when he wakes up the next day, groggy as all hell, looking like he could drop any minute.

When you finally enter your room, your darling husband is there to await you. His large body is spread across the bed, waiting for you to get in with him. He grins at you with his hands behind his head shifting his lower body down. “Hey, beautiful,” he winks at you stupidly.

Whereas any other day you would fall for his charm, you were not amused by him. You ‘hmph’ and walk to the other side of the bed where you use all your strength to throw the rest of his big body ass on the opposite side and fall into the mattress. Toji, who was finally fed up with the animosity you’ve been having towards him all day, sits up and looks at you.

“Okay, what’s the problem?” he asks. “You’ve been mad at me since we got home. You even let Megumi eat the ice cream you said I could have.” He sounded so whiny, you couldn’t help but giggle at his ridiculousness. “So you’re just being a brat for no reason?”

“No,” you finally answer. You shift your body around to face him and he wraps his arm around your torso to kiss you. “I am upset with you.”

“But why? What did I do?” he asks.

You sigh and sit yourself up on your elbow. “Megumi told me something interesting.”

Toji began to think the worst. He thought the kid had let one of his deep dark secrets slip, like when you still lived on your own and Toji would hang onto his phone like an addict just waiting on a text from you. “Oh, yeah?” He played it off.

You nodded. “He told me you don’t like coming to fun events for school. Like field trips and parties. And open houses…” you trailed off.

Toji narrowed his eyes. “Open houses are not fun. Did he bother you about that shit today?”

You slap his chest. “He did not bother me, he asked me sweetly and I said yes.”

Toji scoffs. “Well, you have fun with that-“

“And you’re coming too.”

Toji’s jaw hangs open as he looks at you in disbelief. “What do you mean I’m coming too?”

“I signed your name up on his little RSVP paper, and-“

“Babe,” he says exasperated. You glare at him, not appreciating how much of a baby he was being. Honestly, if he was any more dramatic it would give you the ick for days. “Come on,”

“Wha-, you come on!” You say disappointed. “What is wrong with you? It’s just an open house.”

Not wanting to argue with you anymore, Toji sighs and gives up. He knows there’s nothing he could say to keep him from going, and he would hate to disappoint you any more than you already are. He kisses your forehead and holds your cheek. “Okay, baby. I’m sorry. I’ll go.”

You still weren’t satisfied. You knew he was only saying that because he didn’t want to upset you anymore, not because he had a change of heart. But, you got what you wanted, there’s no point in stretching things out. So you kissed his lips and smiled at him. “Thank you, baby.”

You were ready to sleep, but of course, he took that as an invitation. He smirked at you and leaned in for another kiss which you happily gave him. Then, he took more and more from you, squeezing you closer to him. He moved his hands down your body pushing your torso into his and sticking his tongue in your mouth. You squeal and pull away giggling at him. “Babe-,”

“Shh, come here.” He whispers, attacking your neck immediately afterwards. You stifle your moan by biting your lip. You knew you were getting worn out tonight. Good thing you don’t work tomorrow morning.

-

It’s the night of the open house and the school is bustling with parents, students, and staff alike. There’s a general welcome area with information about upcoming school events, and any questions that parents may have along with snack tables. You were walking right behind Megumi who was excited. Even though he was perfectly calm and walking leisurely, you could see from the small smile on his face that he was happy.

Toji could see it too. He was walking behind the both of you, not too far away. He’d never seen Megumi more relaxed or ready to leave the house before. It was weird.

Megumi led his parents to the 4th grade corridor where he pointed out various class projects that littered the walls in front of each classroom. “Mr. Geto’s class made this really cool honeycomb project. They were all given a hexagon and drew their own bees on it.” He explained to you. You oohed and aahed at everything he pointed out. He seemed to want to tell you about all the projects his friends made as well.

Before you all got to his class at the end of the hall, you looked around for your giant of a husband and found him practically dragging his feet towards you. You glared at him which made him roll his eyes and pick up the pace. Quickly you looked at Megumi sighing in relief that he didn’t notice.

“Oh, sweetie,” you say to him when you all reach Ms. Ieiri’s room. “Did you guys not have a class project? What about the metamorphosis thing?”

Megumi grins at you. “That’s on the wall inside. Our project was really cool and special. You’ll see.”

With that, you all walked inside and took your seats. Megumi sat you all around his desk, with him getting up to talk to his friends when they arrived too. Yuuji was the most excited to see him. “Megumi!” He shouted running over to him. Megumibarely had time to get up before he was practically tackled. “You’re here!”

The pink haired boy got off of him and smiled at you while holding his arms out. “Hi, Mrs. L/N.”

Miwa rears her head out of nowhere taking the hug you were going to give Yuuji. She sticks her tongue out at him. “It’s Mrs. Fushiguro now, dummy.”

“Don’t call him dummy!” Nobara, who also just walked in, scolds.

“You should hear how she talks to me on the bus,” Yuuji interjects. Megumi, quiet as ever, is just happy to be here.

So are you. The kids are hilarious and make you giggle. But you shouldn’t be getting entertained by a bunch of children, you should be speaking with your husband. You turn to talk to him, only to see him knee deep in his phone, leaning against the chair like no one’s business.

You scoff. “You could pretend to be interested,” you lean over and whisper to him.

“Hasn’t even started yet,” he responds, not taking his eyes off the screen. You roll yours. You guess he’s right, but it’s the principle of it all.

At 8:00 on the dot, Shoko claps her hands to get everyone’s attention. “Okay everyone, we’ll be starting now so please take your seats.” You give Toji a sharp glare. He glances up at you, rolls his eyes again, and puts his phone away.

Shoko starts off with a welcome and a thank you. From then she wastes no time eager to talk about the assignments and fun projects that the kids have done. She seems like she’s rushing, and you don’t really understand why until you remember the ‘special project.’

“The children cut out, pasted, and colored in the cycle of metamorphosis which they all absolutely killed,” she starts another round of applause which everyone joined in for. Everyone except Toji.

If he looked as though he didn’t want to be there, that would be correct. He did not want to be there at all. He was looking around lazily at all the projects and Megumi’s own caught his eye every time. It was cute…but that’s all it was to him.

He really didn’t need to be here. At all. But you felt as though he did. Why? Why couldn’t it have just been you? Megumi has amazing grades, outstanding behavior, and perfect attendance. He has good friends and doesn’t get bullied, what else is there to talk about? At least, that’s how he sees it.

He’s so busy sulking that he failed to see his wife giving him a death stare. You were over his piss poor attitude and was ready to stick your foot in his ass. When Toji finally looked towards the front of the class, he saw the steam leave your ears and nostrils and gulped. You turned around and whispered into Megumi’s ear. Then, without bringing too much attention to yourself, you hit Toji’s shoulder and walk out the classroom, with him following suit.

The both of you walked a good distance from the class into the hallways where it was mostly empty. You stop to look at him and he leans against a wall. “What’s going on?” You ask him.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean why have you been so…I don’t know…disconnected tonight?” You raise your arms in frustration. “What was the point of us coming here if you’re not going to pay any attention?”

He lifts himself off the wall. “You know, that is a good question.” You fold your arms. “What is the point of bringing me here? In fact, I’m still not sure what the point of being here is either.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m saying that I hate coming to these things because they never talk about anything important.” He finally says. “Just things that they do for fun in class. I don’t need to know about that.”

You shake your head at him. “Why are you so disinterested in Megumi’s schooling?”

“Now you’re putting words in my mouth.” He holds his finger up at you. He thought he was making himself clear, but he’d be damned if you were going to accuse him of being a dead beat. “I care about Megumi’s education, but this other shit, cute projects and festivals, those aren’t important.”

As you try to piece together your thoughts, he finalized his opinion. “Megumi is a good student. That’s all that matters.”

Finally, you let out a sigh. “You know what, you’re right,” you start, shocking your husband. “The stuff on the side isn’t important in the grand scheme of things. But…it is important to Megumi.”

Toji opens his mouth, but quickly realizes he doesn’t have a response. “Have you looked at him at all tonight?” You ask. “Have you ever seen him so energized? He’s happy.”

Have you ever wondered why he thinks you’re so boring?” Toji jerks his head back. Where did that come from? “It’s because you’re only into the boring shit. Grades and behavior marks are boring, babe. Drawing, arts and crafts, games, music, candy, the zoo; those are all fun. And Megumi loves that, so we have to love it too.”

“I-“

“He was so excited that you were coming tonight. They have something special going on that he really didn’t want to miss. Megumi wants you here, baby. And, I bet he’ll be an angel now.”

Toji looks at the ground and thinks about what you said. You were right, Megumi was very happy tonight. And he starts to realize something; he’s only ever seen Megumi’s homework and test grades. He hadn’t seen an arts and crafts project or a drawing he made since preschool where that was all they did. Megumi thinks that- no. He knows that his father doesn’t care about that. And that thought…hurts.

He didn’t care, but he’ll start now.

“You’re right,” he tells you, even though you definitely already know. “I guess…I never liked this kind of shit when I was a kid. I didn’t really have great friends and my family never cared either.” He looks up at you. “I tried really hard to make sure Megumi didn’t grow up like I did, I think I overlooked a few things.”

“But, you’re an amazing father, baby. Megumi loves you, even though you are boring,” you jest. Toji laughs warmly and approaches you. He kisses your lips and pulls you in for an embrace.

He loves you; so much. You’re so caring and mindful of his son. He knew you would be a great stepmother. He couldn’t wait to officially give you that title when you finally said your vows only last year.

“Let’s go back before we miss the surprise.”

You gasped when Shoko finally talked about the butterfly project. They were gorgeous with orange wings and yellow tips, native to the region. They were currently inside a blue tent with the keeper. Since Megumi had the most important job as the temperature keeper, a fact that got a pat and a head rub from his father, your family, along with the Itadori’s, got to go in first.

Megumi and Yuuji couldn’t contain their excitement for a second and had to be scolded to sit down by their parents. You sat next to Toji, a butterfly landing in your locs that were currently Toji’s favorite color, Cajun Spice. One lands on Megumi’s and Yuuji’s noses, making you squeal from how cute it was and leading you to pull out your phone to take a picture. Toji pulls out his as well, snapping one of you before the butterfly has a chance to fly away. Luckily, many of them had the same idea and your hair was covered in them. You were so beautiful, they could pass for actual hair accessories. Toji took a picture of you smiling.

You all laughed when they started landing on him, the entire tent cackling when he was covered with them. His miffed face added to the atmosphere, and you took as many pictures as you could.

When it was all said and done, you all began walking back to the car. You ran to the bathroom, telling the boys not to wait up. So, it was Toji’s and Megumi walking into the parking lot.

It was quiet for a second, Toji thinking about all the ways he could make it up to his son and looking at the upcoming events flier to see one that may interest him. Suddenly, he feels a smaller body on his legs and torso. It was Megumi giving him a hug.

“Thanks for coming, dad,” he says quickly, the sound almost completely muffled by Toji’s shirt. He gets off of him just as quickly, thankful that it was too dark to see his red face. Toji thought the same.

“You’re welcome.” He says back, the both of them hopping into the car and staying quiet pretending the other doesn’t exist.

After a few minutes of silence, Megumi speaks up. “Can this please not be the only time ?” He asks his father.

Toji smiles to himself. “I promise it won’t.” With that, you finally enter the car, the 3 of you driving off happy as can be.

ending a/n: I hope you all enjoyed that! I really wanted to make it clear that Toji isn't a bad father, he does care and he cares in his own way that isn't detrimental to Megumi's being either. And, I wanted to give insight to what yours and Megumi's relationship looks like and how Toji feels about it. The next story should not take as long to come out I promise. Y'all don't understand this one was MONTHS in the making I started this series in March LMAOO! Also, I've went ahead and made a form to sign up for the taglist. It'll be open probably indefinitely as I don't see myself officially stopping the series anytime soon. If there's ever a hiatus, it'll be because I need to think of more ideas.

Pics are from Pinterest

Taglist Sign Up

AO3 Version

My AO3

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

[transgenderer]

It occurred to me that nocturnal animals might be able to sum photons in space and time to increase sensitivity, akin to pooling pixels to create a larger and more sensitive pixel, or on a camera lengthening the exposure time. This would require neurons at some higher level in the visual system that sum the photoreceptor signals coming from small groups of neighbouring ommatidia (the optical building blocks of compound eyes, each consisting of a lens-pair and an underlying bundle of photoreceptors). Since each ommatidium is responsible for sampling a single pixel of the visual scene, this neural spatial summation would create a large ‘super ommatidium’ that samples a large ‘super pixel’. Similarly, some higher neuron, or circuit of neurons, might be responsible for lengthening the visual exposure time (which is equivalent to the visual integration time).

The downside of such a summation strategy is, however, that fewer larger pixels reduce spatial resolution, and a longer exposure time reduces temporal resolution. In other words, to improve sensitivity one would need to throw away the finer and faster details in a visual scene in order to see the coarser and slower ones a lot better. But this might be better than seeing nothing at all! With this realisation, I started to build a mathematical model to calculate the finest spatial detail that a nocturnal animal, with a given eye design, might see using such a summation strategy as light levels fell (Warrant, 1999).

The results were surprising – spatial and temporal summation should in theory allow nocturnal animals to see at light levels several orders of magnitude dimmer than would have been possible had summation not been used. But could nocturnal animals actually do this? The benefits of summation seemed obvious, and I became convinced that it must be a crucial component of nocturnal visual processing.

I also realised that the same strategies could be used to improve video filmed in very dim light, and quite out of the blue, not long after I had published my model, I was contacted by the car manufacturer Toyota (who had realised the same thing). Toyota were very keen to develop an in-car camera system that could automatically monitor the road ahead at night – using only the existing natural light – and warn the driver of impending obstacles.

I also realised that the same strategies could be used to improve video filmed in very dim light, and quite out of the blue, not long after I had published my model, I was contacted by the car manufacturer Toyota (who had realised the same thing). Toyota were very keen to develop an in-car camera system that could automatically monitor the road ahead at night – using only the existing natural light – and warn the driver of impending obstacles.

they are using bug vision in the cars....

[nerdieforpedro]

Muted Peach

Dave York x plus size AFAB

This fic and my blog overall is for readers 18+

Word Count: 921

Summary: The run in your stockings is annoying but is quickly an afterthought with Dave’s arrival. He brings you two things you need and leaves you with a promise you want. The two of you don’t need any more words than necessary.

Warnings: handling dangerous plants, soft Dave - geez, government corruption, planning for murder, use of a knife, HANDS (be weird if Nerdie didn’t have it), unprotected P in V, aftercare, more soft Dave (👀 Not mad at it, just surprised myself)

Notes: Another entry for Jett’s Flora and Fauna Challenge by @morallyinept I’m enjoying writing about flowers 💐 This is my first, primarily smut fic in a while (if you mention Frankie I dunno what you mean 👀 that was only like the first 4-5 parts).

Let me know what you think 🤔

I also found these flower meaning references to help anyone who might wanna do the challenge but either doesn’t know a flower to do or what they mean: Botanical Headcannons

This one was for the flower I chose Belladonna: How does your muse respond to silence ? Do they take comfort in soundlessness , or seek to fill the void with noise ?

Main Masterlist/ Dave York Masterlist

The run in your stockings was inevitable. They were old, a size too small but you didn’t want to wear leggings under your skirt, and you felt you could wait until the weekend to buy a new pair. You thought they might have ripped randomly when you sat down for meetings or even when your knee hit that idiot Jim’s desk when you confronted him about why his reports aren’t in. You should not be coming to his office to inquire about them after sending him a reminder email like the rest of the team. His quarterly evaluation just took a dip. Keeping up appearances outside of your real function at the CIA is exhausting and mind-numbing.

You’ve gotten back to your office after five in the evening to make some notes before leaving. That’s when he appears in your doorway. He’s brought a plant for you. It’s small, a deep violet with dark green leaves, he needs to wear gloves while handling it. The flower is called belladonna - deadly nightshade. The smile on your fellow CIA agent’s face gives away his intent. He was able to get it for you. A special project in addition to your weekend shopping. A visit would be had with one of the US diplomats that were skimming money from the embassy. That wasn’t enough to warrant their death. It was when they began dabbling in the drug trade that the department received notice to remove him from the equation to maintain the integrity of US diplomats everywhere.

Such an original concept, for the greater whole and good.

“At least how they die will be elegant,” The only words Dave says to you before noting your stockings with their run. He chuckles and reaches in his jacket pocket. Of course he keeps his knife on him, though he didn’t need to cut your stockings and panties off. You were going to take them off anyway, but now they’re in his pocket. Sometimes you wonder what he does with them all? The plant is set in the windowsill and he discards the gloves and runs his hands over your large thighs before putting you up on your own desk.

With his lips on yours, he bites on your bottom lip and has you open for him, allowing him to explore your mouth. Unbuckling his belt and reaching into his boxers, you find what you need. Having his throbbing length in your palm, you scoot your ass to the edge of the desk. York’s dripping head is sliding against your folds, you softly whimper into Dave’s mouth, opening your legs wider for him. The smirk on his face while he leans back enough you get his pants around his knees and plunges within you. There’s no preamble, just the squelches of your cunt sucking his cock back within you to kiss your cervix. He pushed you on your back and had your wrists pinned to the desk. The thickness of his turgid member gives you the pleasurable stretch that you craved when he passed behind you after the meeting ended. Purposely cupping your ass, taking a moment to reach for a pen on the table in front of you, his hand sliding across your stomach, giving it a small pat. Switching his hold on your wrists from one hand to two, that same hand roamed over your stomach, feeling its softness and jiggle. He pats it again and mouths, “You’re doing well. Stay quiet for me a little longer, Peach.” Two of his fingers reach between your legs where he can see himself entering and exiting you while he circles your small sensitive bud.

The small gasps released from your throat, you’ve gotten skilled at keeping the noise to a minimum outside of your wet core. The pressure’s building with the unevenness of his drags, Dave’s close and you’ll be painted soon. Quickly he pulls out of you and lobs his ropes across your mound and thighs while your walls contract around air. Your moist folds miss his cock already, but it’s time to go. Dave sits you up and pulls a small packet of wipes out of another pocket in his jacket, wiping you down and himself before pulling his pants up and fixing his belt. The peppered kisses to your cheeks and neck are his goodbye to you as he exits the office. The notes you’d been writing and files are on the floor, it’s not his concern, though Dave makes a point to come back after thinking about it for a minute. Touching your shoulder, you stand and he picks up the papers off the floor.

“Didn’t want anyone to see?” Teasing him leads to another peck and a hand on your hip.

“Of course not. I should be the only one to see you sloppy. Take care of it this weekend and I can swing by Sunday night. We might even get breakfast Monday if there’s time sweetheart.” You pat his chest and nod, giving him one more kiss before he really does leave this time.

A fresh pair of gloves is on your desk. York left you those so you can get your new plant home safely - to be repotted you tell the janitor on your way out, the cool air tickling your clit. A job well done means a lazy Sunday night and Monday morning with Dave, so what if you work on different ends of the ‘special operations section’ of the CIA?

Being Dave York’s sweet Peach has definite perks.

Peaches 🍑 that might be in that jacket of Dave’s 🧥: @yorksgirl @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @goodwithcheese @musings-of-a-rose @iamasaddie

@legendary-pink-dot @bitchwitch1981 @for-a-longlongtime @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @megamindsecretlair

@daddy-dins-girl @soft-persephone @soft-girl-musings @magpiepills @harriedandharassed

@maggiemayhemnj @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @avastrasposts @survivingandenduring

@pedroshotwifey @connectioneverywhere @djarinmuse @604to647 @secretelephanttattoo

@rhoorl @sherala007 @schnarfer @bishtrouille @ohforficsake

[sciencebecameouraddiction]

it all fell down

part one: the mighty have fallen

ratings: M (talk of war, rebellion, death and destruction, bleeding, wounds, lots of curse words, etc etc.)

summary: after adam died in the first extermination, lute calls for more frequent exterminations, rallying heaven’s population into believing that hell is a threatening force. once she succeeds, the legion of angels can come down to hell every 6 months, the only difference, charlie and lucifer aren’t safe any more. with their backs against the wall, rebellion is the only option but what happens when heaven pulls their final ace in their sleeve?

part two

the fighting was like a vortex, pulling one in and spitting one out. thankfully, no one had been hurt that was a patron of the hotel. that didn’t mean that the chance wasn’t still there as husk yelled, “they just keep coming!”

i realized as a spear caught my side, an angel sneered at me as then a blast threw me back, we got here by our own doing but we were here due to two mistakes. mistakes that we couldn’t have corrected even if we wanted to, because even though we were in hell, we were incredibly naive.

___________________

after the first fight with heaven, many things had transpired. with adam dead, lute became general and her thirst for vengeance transcended even the most deranged hell born. she pushed and pushed for quarterly exterminations. sera disagreed and pushed back. in one of the meetings they had, lute had pushed too far, causing emily to speak out against everything that had happened. we only knew what happened when golden light ripped through the sky a few months prior. lucifer froze seeing it and rushed out of the hotel, the only thing we could understand was when he yelled, “someone fell!”

maybe that was when all of our problems started. when everything turned to shit, was emily falling. 

after emily fell and recovered we were told about heaven’s plans. what they were trying to do. the most recent meeting that caused emily to fall, lute had brought up the quarterly exterminations, but now she wanted more. she said that the legion of exterminators should have the ability to kill charlie and lucifer morningstar and anyone who comes between the legion and their targets. as they were a threat to the very foundation that heaven stands on.

the silence that fell onto the hotel was deafening as i gripped the couch i was holding onto, my gaze automatically falling to lucifer, eyes wide as he looked disgusted. he shook his head as charlie looked up at him, worried, as vaggie clutched charlie’s hand. his jaw clenched as he excused himself from the group, stating he had business to take care of. my heart was seized in my throat at that moment as he motioned for me to follow him and i squeezed charlie’s shoulder. trying to provide some comfort.

when we reached his room, he sat on the bed, his head in his hands as he broke down sobbing. “i knew this would happen, but i thought they’d point their hatred at me. not charlie. oh, not charlie.” he sobbed, his words coming out broken and disjointed as i quickly kneeled in front of him, pulling him into me and clutching him to me. he was worried for charlie, and i was too, but i was worried for him too. i couldn’t loose either of them. 

the months that followed were many meetings with sera and heaven, fighting against what lute was demanding. lute, though, we underestimated. our first mistake. 

she had gathered a lot of heavenly support, calling for the extermination of hell itself. the entirety of it, as the heavenly residents felt that even the very existence of hell was a threat to themselves. we then learned that sir pentious, who was redeemed in the last extermination was being held in heaven’s prison, partially to protect him but also because the support lute had gathered demanded that the “sinner be locked up.”

we were at our wits end, with no footing to hold onto. it was seemingly the end of the road and that solidified when sera let us know that there had been a compromise and that they would do the extermination twice a year. the new terms included that charlie and lucifer could be killed during an extermination now, but they could defend themselves. it was the lowest and most hopeless i had seen lucifer and charlie. the rest of the hotel were somberly aware of what that meant, hiding or fighting.

after much discussion, lucifer and charlie explained they were fighting. a rebellion was to start and we’d take it to heaven’s door if need be. i stood beside them, clutching lucifer’s hand, the only show of how scared i was showing in the tremor i know he felt.

“we don’t expect you to fight in this. it is most likely a suicide mission. heaven is hell bent to protect the order that has been upheld for thousands of years. charlie’s hotel and the idea itself, was proven with sir pentious, and has scared them. lute is leading this force and will have eyes set out for all of you. if you are not fighting, it would be best to hide.” i explained, speaking up. the crew looked at eachother, many like they were going to cry but shockingly alastor stepped forward.

“while we have believed charlie’s idea to be a fools dream, i was at least proven… wrong. i will be here to help defend the hotel.” alastor said, with the others stepping up. lucifer looked at me shocked as he nodded at alastor in appreciation. this was our second mistake.

__________________

the ringing in my ears signaled me coming back to, not realizing i had passed out on the battle field. i looked up and saw angel swimming in my vision. 

“doll, get up. we gotta go.” he said shaking me and trying to drag me up.

“fuck, angel, i was stabbed. hold on.” i say clutching my side as he all but drags me through the battle field.

“no time. we gotta go.” he says, for the first time fear is on his face. 

“angel, what happened?” i ask, trying to walk to help him.

“lilith. she’s here. she’s here and alastor let her down here. she owns his soul. he’s her little fuckin’ pet. and she’s on heaven’s side. charlie and lucifer are fighting her now but lucifer told me to get you somewhere safe.” angel says. my eyes widen as i see the crew waving at angel. husk telling angel to “hurry the fuck up”. 

“no! i can’t leave them.” i stop angel as he turns to me and i drop to my knees. i quickly pull out a large vial i had around your neck, i unstopper it and drink half, grimacing. i feel myself stitching back up, and i stand up. handing the vial to angel, i instruct him to share it with the others, ignoring the questions i knew he had. “it’ll help heal you.” i explain as i turn to where i could see red, black and green light combating in the sky like a sick fire show against the muted red sky.

“what are you doing?” angel said, tears falling.

“i’m going to help them, and i hope to see you on the other side.” i smile, reaching my arm out, grabbing an angelic axe in an angels body. i wave to the group as i jump in the air and let my wings materialize for the first time since i was in hell. i quickly make it over to the fighting and narrow in on the green magic. my eyes lock in on alastor as i tackle him, my axe at his throat. 

“do you want to fight?” i ask simply. he shook his head no. “i’m knocking you out and tying you up over there. we’ll talk about this shit,” i motion to the green chain on his throat, “later.” i then take the dull end of the axe handle and quickly knock alastor out, angelic ropes quickly binding him. as i turn, my wings disappear as i walked up to what seemed like a tame scene. lucifer was talking to lilith as lilith looked like she was crying. lucifer held his hands up to her, almost like he was placating a cornered animal. trying to show he meant no harm.

“please mom, we don’t want to fight you.” i hear charlie say, and i see vaggie standing in front of her protectively.

“lilith, just stop this. you can live in heaven. i don’t care. heaven doesn’t care. we can make sure you have the peaceful life in heaven you wanted. the one that i robbed you of. just stop all this.” lucifer tried to reason. i saw her eyes turn green and watched as a branch like shadow came out of the ground, headed straight for lucifer.

it felt like time had slowed. it felt like i had gone through the five stages of grief i had heard of before but in a second as i screamed for lucifer to move. i ran toward him, wanting to push him out of the way. he turned toward me shocked, his back toward lilith, his eyes wide as he tried to stop me. i wasn’t quick enough as i watched as the branch impaled his chest and he stood there shocked, looking at the branch as an apple bloomed on it. he turned his head back to look at lilith, questioning why she would do this. no one heard her answer as charlie went into a fit of rage, shoving past vaggie and running over to her mother, tearing her apart limb by limb. the legion of angels seeing their leader, in essence be ripped apart sent them scrambling back up to heaven, looking like a flock of birds in the sky. i rushed to lucifer as the branch disappeared as lilith died, he collapsed to his knees, gripping onto me. charlie ran over to us, holding her dad, crying.

“please… no, dad. you can’t.” she cried, trying to stop the bleeding. “we can fix this? right?” she looks at me sobbing. “i just have to fix this.” her body shaking as vaggie kneels next to her.

“charlie, listen to me, you’ll be a great ruler of hell. okay? you’re going to do amazing things. and even though i wasn’t the best at showing it, i love you more than the stars and sky itself.” lucifer said, kissing charlie on her forehead as he collapsed into me. he rested upon me and i felt the warm liquid seeping from him be absorbed by my clothes. i felt as the fabric became so filled with his life that it dripped off my knees into the ground below. but so did my tears, silent as charlie sobbed, but running down my cheeks, soaking my shirt and his hair. 

“no, please. i have to do something!” charlie cried, looking at vaggie, who looked distraught. vaggie’s expression only making charlie cry harder.

“take care of her?” he asks me, looking up at me. 

“always.” i respond easily. charlie sobs harder, her head on lucifer’s chest, as his hand rests on her head.

“remember me?” is his last request.

“i could never forget you.” i try and smile at him but he smiles back at me, so genuine as if to say don’t worry. his eyes close and charlie screams out. my head falls to his as i press a kiss to his forehead. “goodbye, my love.”

part two

[notfinancialadvice]

It's been awhile, but I have a new thought for folks starting out investing

This blog is called "not financial advice" so this is not financial advice. Nothing on this blog is.

And.

I am working on a large-scale D&D-style banking system for a private client (my job is weird). This is putting me in touch with a lot of people in very expensive suits and it I keep pinging them:

"Let's say someone has $100 to start investing, what should they do. Like, literally $100. With $0.00 added after."

I've cobbled together some thoughts (not advice don't sue me) and cut out the bullshit and sales pitches.

Start a high-yield savings account in an FDIC insured bank. As of this writing (April 27, 2023, United States-based), it'll be somewhere between 3.5 - 4.25% APY (annual percent yield -- i.e. interest)

Go with a bank that is FDIC insured. Banks pay for this, you do not. Here are smart people talking about what FDIC is.

The percentage difference listed above is 0.75%. Moving money is a bitch, is it worth chasing 0.75%? That depends on your situation, time, etc. Here are smart people who built a calculator to help you figure it out if it's worth it to you.

Touch it as little as possible.

Start a spreadsheet that tracks your finances.

In the cell that lists the amount of this balance, give it a name. Something fun, something that speaks to you. I did this as an experiment + to participate, mine is "Slime Research Adventurer Destruction Fund".

Write a prospectus (fancy word for "this is what the goal for this cash is to do").

Slime Research Adventurer Destruction Fund prospectus: Follow the path of high-yield savings rates at {bank}. Review quarterly if other banks have a substantially better rate (+1.5%).

The entire point is to break the idea of "them not me" and "today vs. someday" and "I cannot begin to build wealth vs. someone else can."

A $100 savings INVESTMENT IN A SAVINGS ACCOUNT with a rate of 3.5-4.25% will give you interest of $3.50-4.25 at the end of the first year, then continue on growing onwards.

That is your return.

Is it as high as investing in the market? No.

Is it safer? Holy fuck yes.

When you invest in stocks, bonds, etc. you are looking for a return. This is your return.

This is not a grindset mindset work 24/7 chunk of advice. This is not a reality-disillusionment "I am struggling I need to work harder."

You need to be knowledgable about how things can work for you so you can leverage what you have, where you are, when you have it, as you can.

A high-yield savings account is not going to make you rich.

It probably won't make a difference in an emergency.

It will absolutely make a difference in non-emergency times, over a period of time.

Slime Research Adventurer Destruction Fund Destroying Adventurers.

That last point is where I'm coming to.

If you don't have enough cash to invest and/or you're not comfortable investing, that's fine.

Give your savings account a name that speaks to you. This is your investment. Your savings account = your investment account.

There is no moral or ethical difference between "I have cash shoved into a savings account" and "I have cash shoved into the stock market."

The only difference is potential risk, growth, and fees (never pay for a savings account), liquidity ("how quickly can I convert this thing into cash to buy an apple at the grocery store, pay a bill, etc.").

Make money less scary via weird names and fun graphics.

Go to a piccrew site and make a catgirl with pink and blue hair.

Name your fund "Catgirlsnax Fundsies".

Make. Money. Management. Less. Scary. By. Taking. Control. Via your own. Desires. Goals. Weird quirks.

Here is to hoping these gifs are not from horrible shows I don't know anime I know money and business and monsters.

If they are then I apologize for it.

I've read the notes on my blog and a lot of you like anime. I'm hoping these resonate.

[burningvelvet]

Here are two of the most hilariously scalding letters from the 1800s that I have ever read. One is by the famous writer Lord Byron, and the other is by his daughter Ada Lovelace, the famous mathematician. Both are written to their respective business partners: Byron to his publisher John Murray, and Lovelace to her colleague Charles Babbage. It’s interesting to note how strikingly similar these letters are despite the fact that Ada and her father never knew each other, as her parents separated shortly after her birth and he died abroad when she was eight. Both were rebellious, fond of gambling, prone to tumultuous affairs, and both hated Lady Byron. These similarities may help to explain why her final wish was to be buried next to him instead of her family.

Lord Byron in a Letter to his publisher John Murray about the printing of his magnum opus, the poem Don Juan:

“Ra. August 31st. 1821.

Dear Sir

I have received the Juans – which are printed so carelessly especially the 5th. Canto – as to be disgraceful to me — & not creditable to you.

It really must be gone over again with the Manuscript – the errors are so gross – words added – changed – so as to make cacophony & nonsense. — You have been careless of this poem because some of your Synod don’t approve of it – but I tell you – it will be long before you see any thing half so good as poetry or writing. — Upon what principle have you omitted the note on Bacon & Voltaire? and one of the concluding stanzas sent as an addition? because it ended I suppose – with –

‘And do not link two virtuous souls for life Into that moral Centaur man & wife?’

Now I must say once for all – that I will not permit any human being to take such liberties with my writings – because I am absent. —

I desire the omissions to be replaced (except the stanza on Semiramis) particularly the stanza upon the Turkish marriages – and I request that the whole be carefully gone over with the M.S.S. –

I never saw such stuff as is printed – Gulleyaz – instead of Gulbeyaz &c. Are you aware that Gulbeyaz is a real name – and the other nonsense? – I copied the Cantos out carefully – so that there is no excuse – as the Printer reads or at least prints the M.S.S. of the plays without error. —

If you have no feeling for your own reputation pray have some little for mine. — I have read over the poem carefully – and I tell you it is poetry – Your little envious knot of parson-poets may say what they please — time will show that I am not in this instance mistaken. — Desire my friend Hobhouse to correct the press especially of the last Canto from the Manuscript – as it is – it is enough to drive one out of one’s senses – to see the infernal torture of words from the original. – For instance the line

‘And pair their rhymes as Venus yokes her doves’

Is printed

‘and praise their rhymes &c. –

also ‘precarious’ for ‘precocious’ – and this line. stanza 133.

‘And this strong extreme effect – to tire no longer’

Now do turn to the Manuscript – & see – if I ever made such a line – it is not verse. —

No wonder the poem should fail – (which however it wont you will see) with such things allowed to creep about it. – – Replace what is omitted – – & correct what is so shamefully misprinted, – and let the poem have fair play – – and I fear nothing. — I see in the last two Numbers of the Quarterly – a strong itching to assail me (see the review of the “Etonian”) let it – and see if they shan’t have enough of it. – – I don’t allude to Gifford – who has always been my friend – & whom I do not consider as responsible for the articles written by others. – But if I do not give Mr. Milman – Mr. Southey – & others of the crew something that shall occupy their dream! I am not what I was – that is all

I have not begun with the Quarterers – but let them look to it. – As for Milman (you well know I have not been unfair to his poetry ever) but I have lately had some information of his critical proceedings in the Quarterly which may bring that on him which he will be sorry for. – I happen to know that of him – Which would annihilate him – when he pretends to preach morality – not that he is immoral – because he isn’t – having in early life been once too much so. – And dares he set up for a preacher? let him go and be priest to Cybele. – why let

You will publish the plays – when ready — I am in such a humour about this printing of D.J. so inaccurately – that I must close this.

yrs. [scrawl]

P.S. I presume that you have not lost the stanza to which I allude? it was sent afterwards look over my letters – & find it. The Notes you can’t have lost – you acknowledged them – they included eight or little corrections of Bacon’s mistakes in the apothegms. – And now I ask once more if such liberties taken in a man’s absence – are fair or praise-worthy? – As for you you have no opinions of your own – & never had – but are blown about by the last thing said to you no matter by whom.”

[Separate page]

“Dear Sir

The enclosed letter is written in bad humour – but not without provocation. -

However – let it (that is the bad humour) go for little – but I must request your serious attention to the abuses of the printer which ought never to have been permitted. – You forget that all the fools in London (the chief purchasers of your publications) will condemn in me the stupidity of your printer. — For instance in the Notes to Canto fifth – ‘the Adriatic shore of the Bosphorus – instead of the Asiatic!! – All this may seem little to you – so fine a gentleman with your ministerial connections – but it is serious to me – who am thousands of miles off & have no opportunity of not proving myself the fool yr. printer makes me – except your pleasure & leisure forsooth.

The Gods prosper you — & forgive you, for I wont.

B.”

Ada Lovelace in a letter to her work partner Charles Babbage, who she helped invent the computer with:

“Tuesday Afternoon [1 August 1843] Ockham

. . . Note B has plagued me to death; altho' I have made but little alteration in it. Such alterations as there are however, happen to have been very tiresome & to have demanded minute consideration & very nice adjustments.

It is a very excellent Note.

I wish you were as accurate, & as much to be relied on, as I am myself. You might often save me much trouble, if you were; whereas you in reality add to my trouble not infrequently; and there is at any rate always the anxiety of doubting if you will not get me into a scrape; even when you don't.

By the way, I hope you do not take upon yourself to alter any of my corrections.

I must beg you not. They all have some very sufficient reason. And you have made a pretty mess & confusion in one or two places (which I will show you sometime), where you have ventured in my M.S's, to insert or alter a phrase or word; & have utterly muddled the sense.

I could not conceive at first in one or two places what had happened to my sentences; tho' I soon saw they were patchwork & not my own; and found it so, on referring to the M.S. I fear you will think this a very cross letter. Never mind. I am a good little thing, after all. Yours ever

A. A. L.

Later. P. S. It is impossible to send you anything but Notes B and C; (& this partly owing to some wrong references & blunderations of your own). — Do not be afraid, for I will work like the Devil early tomorrow morning. —“

[Separate Page]

“Wednesday, 4 o'clock [2 August 1843] Ockham

After working almost incessantly, since 7 o'clock this morning, until I am forced to give in from sheer inability to apply longer, I find only the sheet I enclose is quite completed. I shall however send a servant up tomorrow morning by a ten o' clock train, to take you all the rest; so that you will have it almost as soon as this letter.

You cannot conceive the trouble I have had with the trigonometrical Note E. — In fact no one but me, I really believe, would have doggedly stuck to it, as I have been doing, in all wearing minutiae.

I am very uneasy at not hearing from you, as I have expected to do both yesterday & today; & fear some disaster or other. I hope all of Note G is forthcoming; & I also hope you have received all my communications safely.

I think you had better do the second revise of the translation for me. If you will compare it carefully with my first revise, it can hardly be necessary I think for me to go over it again.

I suppose I ought to take it for granted that no news is good news; but I am in a sad fidget. — Yours ever

A. L.”

[lavinialost]

guess what time it is….

CONTRACTUALLY OBLIGATED QUARTERLY ✨ DGHDA DISCORD SERVER ✨ PROMO TIME

reasons you should join: we have fun! don’t believe me? well, don’t take just my word for it…

- “[This server] made me realise that things can be gayer than ever thought possible” - @frenchfriedgiraffe

- “Incredible talent, incredible brainrot” - @generalized-incompetence

- “I think you should mention we do watch parties

And Gartic [Phone] >:D” - @goatyoat (it’s true, we do do that)

✨ Link to join: HERE!!! ✨

[divine-knight-hand]

“It’s Not Safe Here!”

Chapter 1: The Dark Revelation

Series Masterlist || Michael Masterlist || Full Masterlist || Read on AO3

Content Warnings: Early morning post-adrenaline-rush touching, handjob in a public space (but no one else is there), giving head for the first time (because why not?), cum swallowing, Michael's a bottom, Y/N's just badass, Michael's the only one receiving in this chapter, and EXPLICIT CONSENT.

Word Count: 5,079

Dividers by @cafekitsune

I was the sole financial advisor of the restaurant, a job that should have gone to one of the two men who literally own the place, but I guess even robot nerds needed a bit of a break. I couldn’t judge them too harshly, though. One of those robot nerds was my boyfriend’s father, after all.

Michael and I have been dating for a little over a year. He was on the night shift, and I would come to work an hour before my own shift to comfort him before my day began. I didn’t know what bothered him so much about his job, but he had expressed that he would rather see me than go home in the mornings, and that did mean that I got to spend more time with him, so who would I be to argue? I thought it was the least I could do, since he would never tell me what happened in this place at night, though it still felt like I wasn’t doing much of anything. I would kill to know what scared him so much every night. I worried for him…

I finally managed to unlock the door with the key that Henry gave to me after he realized that I consistently come in earlier than I’m supposed to. Honestly, that would have gotten most people fired for trespassing, so I got really lucky with that one.

I took one step inside and one thing became starkly apparent. It was dark. Eerily dark. Devoid of all the lights and laughter that usually gave it life during the day. A shiver trailed up my spine as I strolled across the dark party room, my pleather ankle boots clicking each step of the way, the sounds accompanied by a ghastly echo off the walls.

I decided to come to work wearing a black suit and tie with silver jewelry and black eyeliner. I figured I should try to dress nicely for my quarterly meeting with my bosses, Henry and William. If not for the formal attire of the meeting, then to soften the blow when I would have to break the news that we went over budget on mechanical expenses, as per usual. That was the reason I had to get up early in the first place.

Henry and William would usually schedule our meetings for after the restaurant closed. This time, for some reason they didn’t care enough to tell me, they wanted to hold it before the restaurant opened. I rolled my eyes and sarcastically thought, Oh, how I love getting up at godforsaken hours of the morning to get yelled at for things I can’t control. It was never my fault that these two always spent more than I planned budgets for, yet William was never shy with his temper tantrums.

Whrrrrrrrrrrrrr… Click! Click! Click!

I jumped and immediately froze at the sudden sound that brought me out of my thoughts, feeling anxiety begin to twist in my stomach. What the-

Whrrrrrrrrrrrrr… Click! Click! Click!

My head instantly went on a swivel as I struggled to locate the sound's origin in the dark and empty expanse. As soon as I found it, my jaw flew open to unleash an unearthly scream that I didn’t even know I was capable of. A pair of silver eyes twinkling in the darkness returned my terrified gaze. Calm down, girl! It’s just one of the animatronics. For some reason, the thought made me feel even more afraid, and even unsafe. As soon as I noticed the eyes slowly getting larger, I turned tail and rushed down the nearest hallway, my suspicions of being unsafe confirmed as soon as I heard the noises get louder and faster.

Whrrrrrr- Clank!Click!Clank! Whrrrrrr- Clank!Click!Clank!

I let out another scream, my ears pounding with the blood rushing behind them, and my feet hitting the floor, which surprisingly didn’t trip me up, despite the fact that I was running in heeled ankle boots, “Help! Somebody! HELP ME!!!” My heart was pounding in my throat. I could only hear one thing in my mind. I’m gonna die here! I’m gonna die here!

Me and the animatronic on my tail turned down hallway after hallway for what felt like hours before I felt a sudden grip on my arm, and I froze in my tracks. I quickly lost my footing as I got yanked into a small room with dim lighting, falling to the floor with a forceful, “Umph!”

Whoosh! Clang! I heard the sound of a metal door slamming shut behind me. Then the room fell into a silence so heavy, I could hear a pin drop… Oh, wait. That’s one of my rings. I sat up and slid my ring back onto my finger. As my adrenaline slowed enough to allow me to stop shaking, my eyes adjusted enough to the low lighting to see that I was on the floor of a small office. I looked at the camera system on a nearby desk and squinted. I was trying to decipher the picture on-screen when I felt two large arms wrap around me, and I let out a yelp… Well, it was more of a blood-curdling scream.

“AAAAH!” I turned my head to see a familiar figure, who had joined me on the ground to wrap his arms around me. “Michael?”

There he was. My boyfriend. He seemed well put-together, with his purple work shirt (which was decorated with a gold security badge), blue jeans, and brown work boots. His hair, on the other hand, was a bit disheveled, as if he had spent his shift anxiously running his hands through it. Poor thing…

He looked at me, concern with undertones of lack of sleep etched into his features. His eyes, however, were wide with pure, unadulterated terror, “Y/N? Are you alright?” He frantically patted me down, almost as if he was attempting to frisk me for contraband rather than check on my physical well-being. The worry on his face assured me that he had good intentions, as always, “Did he hurt you? I was so worried! I saw you on the cameras and I got so scared! I don’t know what I would have done if you-”

I held a finger to his lips to keep him from spiraling, “I’m alright, Michael. Just a little shaken up.”

“In that case, what are you doing here?” Michael brought his hands up to my shoulders, gripping them as if he was afraid I would disappear in an instant, “It’s not safe here!”

“I was here to see you before preparing for my meeting today, but then something started chasing me! W-” I momentarily hesitated due to the sheer ridiculousness of the question I planned on asking, but I decided to ask it anyways, “Was that Freddy? Was he really chasing me just now?”

Michael slowly removed his hands from my shoulders, bringing them to his knees, “Yes, love. That was Freddy… and he was chasing you, it seems.”

“What for?!”

“The animatronics are allowed to wander at night, so their servos don’t lock up.”

“Michael,” I proceeded in a cautionary tone, “You’re not answering my question.”

He scratched the back of his neck in visual discomfort before slowly starting again, “Do you… do you believe that things with human-like qualities can come to life?”

A loud banging sounded at the door behind us and we both jumped. I shouted, “Michael! I don’t think now’s an appropriate time to discuss science fiction!”

“No, no, Y/N! I ask because these animatronics are alive!” I stared at him blankly, which prompted him to continue, “I can’t explain it, but I know they are. They roam around every night, looking for ‘endoskeletons to shove into mascot suits’.” He made air quotes with his fingers.

I let out a dry laugh, “Oh, I see. They’re programmed for cleanup.” I shook my head, mentally cursing William, “No wonder we never stay under budget.” I muttered.

“No, Y/N. They’re on a murderous path! That’s the cover-up story that the company feeds every guard that works here… before they disappear.”

“Disappear?” My heart dropped at the idea, “What’s that supposed to mean?” And could it happen to you?

“Y/N,” Michael placed his hands back on my shoulders and leaned a little closer to me, “What I’m about to tell you is going to sound crazy. Please, just listen. Please?” I silently nodded, allowing him to continue, “The animatronics walk around at night, and they always make their way to the office in an attempt to kill the security guard. That’s why this position reopens so often. I’m still trying to figure out why they act this way at night.”

“So this is what you’ve been doing at work?!” I could feel myself falling prey to hysterics, “Risking your life? Fending off killer robots to find some secret that you could probably just ask your dad about?”

“It’s not that easy.”

“It has to be easier than tempting death every night, Michael!”

“I think it has to do with the missing children.”

I froze. The city of Hurricane, Utah had some pretty frequent amber alerts in recent months, but how could Michael have seen a correlation between their disappearances and these killer robots? Oh no…

“Michael…” I groaned, “You don’t think the robots killed the kids, do you?” And would that mean your father is involved? I wouldn’t dare ask that question aloud. It’s one thing to support your boyfriend when he’s had bad days with his worse-than-negligent father. It’s another to accuse said father of murder.

“I don’t know enough to say for sure.” Michael nervously scratched his chin, “That’s what I’m investigating.”

I sighed, “If this is the case, then why didn’t you tell me about this sooner?”

“I couldn’t! I’m bound by a contract. I could lose this job if I come forward about what happens here at night, and this position is the closest I could get for investigating.” A light blush slowly crept up Michael’s face, “I also didn’t want you to worry. The idea of you worrying yourself over this… it kills me. I love you too much to let that happen.”

“Well, I am worried.” I slid my hands up his sides, “But, I don’t plan on stopping you.” I pulled him just a little closer to me, “What you’re doing? It’s dangerous, and I would really like for you to have no part of it,” Michael’s gaze dropped to the floor in shame and I moved one of my hands to tilt his chin back up to me, “But, it’s honorable. It’s probably the bravest thing I’ve ever seen you do.”

Michael sheepishly chuckled, “Thank you, Y/N. That means a lot.” His eyes drifted up to the desk and he visibly tensed before cursing under his breath and jumping up to rush over to the screens, “The doors were wasting power! I completely forgot I had them closed.”

“Limited power supply to keep the doors closed?” I slowly rose to my feet, “Sounds like a murder plot in motion.” Michael turned and raised an inquisitive eyebrow at me, “What? It does!”

He shook his head, “Would you mind opening them, love?” Did I just hear him right?

“ARE YOU CRAZY?!” I screamed, “OPEN THEM?! MICHAEL, WHAT THE-”

“To conserve power, not to kill us!” He cut in.

I sighed and looked over his shoulder at the desk. The power meter was displayed in the corner of the camera feed and read 32%. The alarm clock placed next to the screen showed 5:30 A.M.

I turned to face him, and noticing that I was closer to his face than I anticipated, I decided to whisper so I didn’t speak too loudly in his ear, “I think we can get away with leaving them closed until six, right, hun?”

To my surprise, he shuddered and whispered in response, “Y-yes, love. I suppose we could.”

I sighed with relief and dropped into the chair at his desk, spreading out comfortably, “In that case, I don’t see an issue with just waiting out the rest of the night, hm?”

He turned to look at me, fear still in his eyes, but he was slowly calming down at the sight of me being at ease, a front that I’ve put on for his sake many times before, but this time was genuine. I wheeled the chair over to knock on one of the doors and remark, “What is this thing made out of, anyways?”

Michael cleared a spot on the desk to seat himself on, hands resting on his knees, “I’m not entirely sure, but whatever it is, it keeps them out.”

I began to lean back, in the process of getting completely comfortable, when I caught another glimpse of him. He still seemed tense. Every small noise made him jump, and his eyes were glued wide open, frantically scanning the window closest to him. I saw him consider the light a few times, but he decided against it each time. Must be to conserve power.

I rose from the chair and quietly approached him, resting my hand on one of his, which made him jump again, “Michael, it’s going to be fine. We’re going to be fine.”

He let out a shaky breath, “I know. It’s just…” I noticed his jaw clench and unclench before he continued, “I wish I never would have gotten you involved in all of this. I want you to be safe.”

“But, I’m glad you did.”

“What?! You’re glad? What do you mean?!”

“I mean that now I know what’s wrong with you.” His mouth slightly dropped open in shock, “And by that, I mean now I know what’s been bothering you for so long. It sucked, you know. Always seeing you terrified in the mornings and not knowing how to help. I felt…” I nodded, as if I needed the motion to build my own resolve, “I felt totally helpless in the matter.” I noticed Michael get a sad look in his eyes as I continued, “I felt like you were in pain, and I couldn’t do anything about it.”

Michael tightly wrapped his arms around me, “I’m sorry, Y/N. I wanted to keep you from worrying, but you were worried the whole time, weren’t you?”

I felt so comfortable in his embrace, it almost made me forget that I haven’t responded yet. I wrapped my arms around him, slowly rubbing his back, “You have nothing to apologize for, especially after you saved my life just now.” He let out a deep sigh and rested his head against my shoulder. I took that opportunity to turn my head and purr into his ear, “I owe you one, don’t I, Mr. Hero?”

I didn’t even have to look at him to know he was blushing. I imagined his rosy cheeks and the way he usually hid his face or avoided my gaze. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy getting him flustered.

I didn’t waste a single moment before softly nipping at his ear, and he began stuttering, “I- I- You don’t- I- I’m not-” He finally settled on one phrase as I began trailing kisses down his jaw, “I love you.”

I momentarily stopped kissing him to respond, “I love you, too, Mike.” Growing bolder with each move I made within the safety of the office, I let one of my hands drop and slowly roam along his thigh, stopping to lightly grab his knee, “I love you so much~”

I could hear him shudder in response. He whispered, “Y/N…”

I leaned back to stand up straight, softly grabbing his chin and tilting it up to face me. He shivered, which I assumed was due to the chill of my rings, as I cocked my head to the side and cooed, “Now, how do I reward my brave hero, hm?” I leaned closer to his face until we were merely centimeters away from each other to whisper, “Let me spoil you, my love~”

He shuddered under his breath and softly groaned, “I don’t deserve-“

“Don’t.” I cut in, “You deserve more than you give yourself credit for.” It was true. Michael had a tendency to undercut his worth, which was both a pet peeve of mine and something that made my heart ache for him. I wished he could see himself the way I saw him. Perfect. I slid my free hand up his thigh, “Let me give it to you.”

I leaned in to kiss him and he spread his legs, giving me enough room to step closer to him and stand between his knees. I began gingerly planting kisses on his lips, running my hand back and forth along his inner thigh as his shaky breaths spurred me on. I quickly grew impatient and gave his lips a small lick, as a silent request for entrance, which he granted. I moved my hand from his chin to cup his face as I slid my tongue into his mouth and grew hungrier for him with each sigh he made against me. I felt butterflies fluttering in my stomach, but they quickly transformed into a warmth that settled in the bottom of my core.

The idea of Michael being putty in my hands was truly driving me wild. I wanted to bend him until he broke. I wanted to hear him panting. Whimpering. Begging. I wanted him to rely completely on me to grant him the sweet release of… well, release. And here he was. Sitting on an office desk. Legs wide open. Just for me. This opportunity must have been heaven-sent, despite the fact that I was chased here by a literal creature from hell.

As we broke our kiss, we were both left breathing heavily. There was a want in Michael’s eyes as we looked at each other. The flush in his cheeks was also telling. He was as hungry as I was. He wanted me.

I looked down and ran my hand up his inner thigh once again, stopping right at the topmost point, closest to his crotch, which had already pitched a tent with the material, before looking back up to him and smirking, “Can I go further than this?” I breathlessly asked, “I really wanna feel more of you.”

His knees suddenly squeezed to my sides and he whined, “Please, love. Please…”

That was it. That was all I needed. The desperation in his voice. The way he looked at me with those puppy eyes. I felt a force inside pulling me toward him. I had to have him. I needed to have him.

“Oh, Michael…” I practically crashed into him for another kiss, using one hand to play with his hair as I began palming his clothed erection with the other.

He moaned into my mouth, his voice slightly cracking. He slid forward on the desk, moving his body closer to mine, and he began slowly grinding against my hand. I felt him twitching in my hand as his kisses became sloppier and needier.

I didn’t have any desire to let him penetrate me. Not yet, anyway. Honestly, I was never planning on taking him inside of a cramped office space. I would prefer to do that at home. That didn’t stop me from wanting to bring him to completion, though. Just the sights and sounds of him in pure bliss would be enough for me. More than enough. Perfect.

I broke the kiss, still touching my forehead to his, as I shifted my focus to undoing his belt.

“Y-Y/N…” He whimpered, “Please hurry…” God, did I love it when he begged.

“Be patient, love.” I whispered, “I promise I’ll take good care of you.” I slowly undid his belt, relishing in each strained breath he sent against my face.

I finally unzipped his jeans, releasing his throbbing, red cock from the material. The tip was crowned with a bead of precum.

“Poor thing.” I cooed, my fingers tracing along each vein that popped up, “How long have you been waiting for me?”

“So long...” He panted, his eyebrows knitting together with effort to hold his composure. What a doll~

I watched him intently as I began removing my rings at a pace that was clearly agonizing to him. I couldn’t help but take pleasure in the way he grew impatient. I then wrapped my hand around the base and gave it a light squeeze before slowly beginning to stroke, “I won’t keep you waiting anymore, my love.”

Michael leaned back, bracing himself on his hands. His head tipped back and he let out a low moan. His shoulders shook with shivers that accompanied each movement I made. My eyes scoured over every inch of the scene that played in front of me.

His eyes seemed hazy, yet sharp, as if he was darting in and out of consciousness. His hair fell into his eyes, covering the light shine of sweat building on his forehead. His lips were ever so parted, allowing breaths, moans, and stuttering whispers to escape. Each shivering breath that left his mouth sent another wave of electricity through me. He was a work of art. Any sense of shyness he felt before melted away as he slowly lost himself in ecstasy, and all of this occurred just from me touching him. It was beautiful.

“Michael,” I purred, “You’re such a pretty boy.” An understatement, in my opinion, but I noticed it was his favorite compliment, and I couldn’t help but love the way it usually made him smile.

This time, he turned his face away, clearly embarrassed, as a small whimper escaped the back of his throat, “Y/N…”

“I mean it. You really are the prettiest.” I felt my hand quickly get slick as precum slowly slid down the head of his cock and lubricated the rest. I moved my hand to stroke him faster as he moved closer to me, “I just wanna make you feel good… Does this feel good, my love?”

“Y-yes…” His mutters were nearly incoherent, “So… good…”

He lifted off of his hands to lean his head on my shoulder and wrap his arms around me, burying his face in my neck. I heard his moans grow whinier as the minutes ticked by. He desperately clung to my body, his hips bucking to meet my hand.

Every point of contact we had sent a jolt of warmth to my core. I knew I was on the verge of being too far gone as soon as I felt a throbbing sensation buzzing to life between my thighs. My god, he’s so fine.

“Y/N… I n- I- Mmh…” Michael’s words continued to be lost in moans until he could form the sentences somewhat coherently, “Need you...” His breathing grew heavier as he continued, “Need to be inside you…” His voice descended back into incoherent moans and pleads.

“I’m sorry, my love.” I gave his head an apologetic scratch, “I can’t take you here. That would get too messy.”

Michael let out an agonized whimper and that’s when it hit me. We were going to make a mess, regardless of whether or not I let Michael inside of me. I had to think fast, otherwise-

“Y-Y/N! Mmm gonna-“ Damn! I had to think fast. I couldn’t even waste time kicking my past self for being so touchy-feely… despite the fact that I still couldn’t keep my hands off of his cock.

Then, I had a lightbulb moment, and I let go of him, earning another strained whimper as I edged him, “Michael, hun, I’m going to need you to let go of me for a moment.” He lifted his head from my shoulder to meet my gaze with an expression that was almost sad, “I promise, I’m going to make you feel good again. I just need to shift my position.” And that was enough to convince him to let go, “That’s a good boy~” He turned his face away again in embarrassment as I quickly took to my knees.

To say that his length didn’t intimidate me would have been a bit of a lie. I remembered being nervous for our first time. That feeling faded the more we were active, but I’d never taken him in my mouth before. As I was staring at the seven-and-a-half inches in front of me, I felt a fluttering in my stomach.

Get it together, Y/N! Don’t leave him hanging! I looked back up to Michael and saw him looking back down at me with a mixture of curiosity and longing. It’s now or never… I stroked his cock a few more times before finally sliding it into my mouth. I slowly took it in, pausing at each inch to catch my breath before moving farther up. Once I relaxed my throat, letting him inside became easier.

“Y/N? Ah-” One of Michael’s hands instantly dropped to the edge of the desk, gripping it until his knuckles turned white. The other ended up on my head, his fingers intertwining with my hair. I shivered in response, letting out a small moan around him, which earned me a whimper from his end. I decided to spare him the wait after already teasing him for so long. I hollowed out my cheeks, bobbing my head along his cock as he bucked his hips to meet my face.

If Michael wasn’t absolutely lost before, he was now, “L- love, I don’t- ah- think I’m gonna last- mmm- much longer…”

I had a difficult time keeping my composure, as well. My eyes watered from the new sensation in my throat, and I had to focus extra on my breathing so I didn’t gag. I then felt myself begin to drool, which didn’t help my attempt to keep the office clean. I gripped his thigh for support, powering through with each moan and incoherent message of encouragement coming from my lover.

After my nerves settled, one feeling remained in me. Lust. I wanted Michael so much. The warmth inside of me wouldn’t let me forget that. I also wanted to prioritize him now. I only wanted to pleasure him. I felt like I could get off solely on finishing Michael over, and over, and over, and over…

“Y/N!” Michael’s cry almost sounded like I was hearing it from under water. My focus was entirely on his gorgeous body, “I- I’m cum- Ah!” Michael arched his back and let out a moan that bordered on the verge of a scream. It was like I was hearing my favorite song as he was lost in pure bliss. And just like that, I felt a warm sensation shooting into the back of my throat.

I greedily swallowed every drop as Michael’s grip tightened in my hair. Once he was done, and he let go, I slowly moved off of him to wipe my mouth with the sleeve of my suit jacket.

For a moment, the only sound that filled the room was Michael’s heavy breathing. I looked up to see him still lightly gripping the table, a look of wonder on his face as he met my gaze.

I smirked and stood up, dusting off my knees, “How was that, my love?”

Michael breathlessly chuckled, “How was that? Y/N, I didn’t even know you could do that!”

“I like to keep a few tricks up my sleeve.” Just you wait until you see what I have in my bottom dresser drawer~

Michael scratched the back of his neck, “You really know how to make a guy feel special.”

I leaned forward and kissed the tip of his nose, “That’s because you are special, Mike.” I smiled, “You’re special to me.”

We wrapped our arms around each other, meeting in a tight embrace, “That’s all I could ever want, love.”

Just then, our hug was cut short by what sounded like church bells. Our heads whipped around to see the alarm clock on the desk flashing: 6:00 AM.

Michael audibly gasped and rushed to fix his pants, “The restaurant opens in an hour.”

“Shit! My meeting’s at 6:30!” I scowled, remembering my responsibilities for the day.

Michael, having finished fixing his appearance, reached over to caress my cheek, “You’re gonna do fine, love. I believe you’ll get through to him this time.”

By now, I would have made some sarcastic quip about William being a stubborn old man, but I was too busy focusing on the image in front of me to feel anything negative. Michael, though still obviously tired from the lack of sleep, smiled warmly at me. His hair was a bit of a wreck after falling into his eyes, being pushed away from his face, and being grabbed and ruffled by me so many times. He was beautiful.

I reached over and played with his hair, seeing if I could fix it, at least a little, “Thank you for the encouragement. Now promise me you’ll get some rest today, okay? Mysterious disappearances can wait until you’ve had a good sleep. Promise?”

He sighed heavily, “I’ll do my best, love.” I raised an eyebrow at him until he raised a hand and added, “I promise.”

I smile and lean forward to kiss him, “Good. Now, I have to go prepare to discuss money-making strategies.” I add a sarcastic “Yippee” which makes Michael chuckle.

I head to the steel door and stop, turning back to him to ask, “They’re all not going to chase me again as soon as I leave, right?”

He softly shakes his head, “They should be back on stage. You’re safe for now.”

I let out a sigh of relief, “Thank god.” I press the door button and the steel door loudly slides open in front of me. I add without turning around, “Remember, take care of yourself today.”

“Got it.” I heard him respond. I smiled to myself and exited through the door, making my way to my office. Today’s going to be a long day…

[operationmorewhitecollar]

Shall we play a game?

Nope, not chess or Parchisi. And not even global thermonuclear war. (If you get that reference, you might just be as old as we are!) But no, none of those games are where we're headed. This year, we're hosting a good old-fashioned game of bingo!

That's right, since we're almost two weeks into the new year, we thought it might be time to roll out our new creative challenge, which will continue throughout 2024.

As always, we're in the market for any and all fan creations centered on White Collar, and this year, we're providing prompts in the form of mini bingo cards, with new prompt cards coming out quarterly. (Jan, April, July, October) If you want to play, just let us know (comment here, dm, however you want to get in touch), and we'll get you a card so you can get started!

Some details:

When we say "any and all fan creations," we mean it--let your creativity run wild and make whatever you want to make! Draw, write, paint, record a podcast, shoot a video, whatever your creative preference.

We're using a 4x4 card format, and there is a FREE space, so that means a total of 15 prompts for three months. Complete a line of prompts, get a bingo; complete the whole card during the quarter, and that, dear friends, is a blackout!

Much like our drabble prompts, the bingo prompts are pretty broad, and many (maybe most?) are only one word. They run the gamut from theme words to genre to story length and beyond. (Not to worry if you're making art or some other non-written creations; we've got provisions for swapping prompts.)

Prompts were randomized to create the cards, and the card numbers were randomized to create the distribution order, so the prompts you end up with are strictly luck.

Okay, that's probably the most important stuff to know, except, of course, that we hope lots of you will join in and that everyone has tons of fun creating new White Collar stuff, because we're sure going to have fun seeing whatever you make!

So whenever you're ready, shall we play a game?

(We'll put a few more detailed FAQ items below the cut, but if you've got questions we didn't think of, just let us know and we'll make up an answer.😉)

Q: What can my entries be? A: Any type of creation you choose. fic, art, blog post, essay, cross-stitch, we're not picky. Interpret the prompts any way you like, in any genre, any relationship, any rating, any characters, you get the idea. (Unless, of course, the prompt is more specific.) As long as it's White Collar, it's fair game.

Q: Where do we share our work/how will you know we made something or got a bingo? A: First, put your creations somewhere we can see them! There'll be a collection on AO3 where most types of work can be shared. (We're debating if it's better to have just one collection for the year or one for each quarter; if you've got any opinions on that, feel free to weigh in.) If you're sharing here or on other socials, be sure to @ us, and use #WhiteCollarBingo. But, while we'll be doing our best to keep up, we're hoping there will be so many entries we'll lose track, so definitely tell us if you completed a bingo!

Q: Can I make one story/picture/video/etc. for the whole card? A: You may use as many prompts as you like in each entry, but only 2 prompts per line may be counted toward a bingo. (So you will need at least two entries to achieve a single bingo, and though we may have miscounted, we think that means at least ten entries to make a blackout.)

Q: Are crossovers allowed? A: Yes (and may even be a prompt!), but White Collar should obviously be prevalent in your work.

Q: How long do I have to complete my entries? A: We'll be issuing new cards each quarter (Jan-March, April-June, July-Sept, Oct-December), and in a perfect world, we'd like to receive entries within that quarter. But you know we've never been sticklers for schedules, and the point is to encourage more White Collar creations, so we'll be glad to get them whenever you finish.

Q: What do I win when I bingo? A: Bragging rights, and your name on our (soon to be created) bingo accomplishments page.

Q: What if there are some prompts I really don't want to use, but I want to try for blackout? A: We will provide a max of two alternate prompts. (This max does not apply if you're making non-written creations and somehow ended up with a card full of writing-centric prompts.)

Q: What if I just can't work with the card I receive at all? A: We'll exchange your card one time. Part of the fun is stretching our creative muscles.

Q: If I exchange my card, will any previous entries count toward bingo on my new card? A: Nope. It's a fresh slate, so examine your card when you get it to decide if it works for you.

Q: If I complete my card, can I have another? A: Yep, and we'd be very impressed! (and happy!)

Q: Where did these prompts come from? A: Many suggestions from our followers, and we've been hunting and gathering, too. But we want to have lots of variety as the year rolls along, so please keep those suggestions rolling in.

Q: Can something I made for another challenge count toward a bingo prompt/Can I submit my work to more than one collection or challenge? A: As long as it's new work, and if the other challenge doesn't ask for exclusivity, bring it on! And frankly, we'd love to see more White Collar activity in multi-fandom spaces. Also, we'll surely be hosting other events throughout the year (at least Mozzie Mania and Caffrey-Burke Day), and you can certainly use a bingo prompt for any of those challenges as well.