#sorry about the ramble I just am so frustrated that everything is dependent on social media

[repurposedmeatlocker]

I wonder what it is about Instagram that intimidates me so much. Especially in regards to posting artwork or utilizing any form of interaction on there. The whole site just feels completely exhausting, overstimulating, and not to mention arduous. More and more, I feel less and less good every time I open that app, which kind of sucks because I feel like it is kind of the most obligatory platform in order to stay connected with most people, especially at an industry level, if that makes sense. It just is so unenjoyable to me. Even though I mostly just follow artists whose work I enjoy and support. Am I alone in feeling like instagram just kind of sucks?

[misha-moose-dean-burger-lover]

*slaps roof of fanfiction* this baby can fit so much self-projection in there ~ @rauko-is-a-free-elf s wise words. enjoy <3

Dean's the one who can't get out of bed without coffee. The one who thinks sunday brunches are a thing just because real people aren't supposed to be up by breakfast time on the weekend. The one who'll crash face first into the couch, first thing he's back from college, because screw consciousness, that's why.

And yet, it's Cas who stumbles out of the shower on seven-am-biochem-Thursday, and proceeds to trip over the carpet and land in Dean's arms.

"I'm so fucking tired."

"Of the — carpet?" Dean frowns, looking over Cas's bedhead to examine the Queen lyrics-filled specimen. He's rather fond of it.

"Of being," Cas mutters, heaving himself upright and swatting at Dean's hand when he reaches to smooth his tie. "Whoever the fuck I'm supposed to be."

Dean tries to get to his tie again, and receives a particularly pissed-off glare for his efforts.

"And who is that?" Dean throws back, playful because why not; he's expecting a sarcastic comeback, a suffering eyeroll, or even to be annoyedly swore at — which he definitely wouldn't mind, coming from his best friend slash boyfriend slash dude with the literal sexiest voice Dean's ever heard — but he's definitely not expecting Cas to launch himself at him, purposefully this time, also gentler, and bury his face in Dean's shirt.

Dean waits, worried, but hands coming up involuntarily to hug back.

Cas doesn't budge.

"Babe?"

All the reaction that induces is for Cas to cling harder. And for words to get muttered — and reasonably muffled, into Dean's shirt.

"I hate that guy."

Dean raises his eyebrows, belatedly realizing Cas can't see them. "Huh?"

"The guy I'm supposed to be." Cas goes on, gritting his teeth. "Dean, I hate him. He makes my life miserable. And I — I'm just so tired."

And at that, Cas decides the point's been made, and stops talking entirely, leaving Dean with little more to do than hold on.

And think.

He knows Cas never got a chance to make the choices most people take for granted. The guy never got to choose his major, choose his hobbies. Hell, hardly even his friends. Private schooled and isolated until his parents up and shipped him off to Princeton pre-med, Dean's always believed Cas had the right to be mad.

Even though he's now in actual med-school, a year from becoming Doctor Novak — Dean gets a secret thrill every time he imagines that, and Cas knows, so it's not a very well-kept secret — and no longer in touch with his parents (who turned out, unsurprisingly, to be assholes who cut him off when they found out Cas is gay. Well, pansexual, but they didn't really care about labels once they'd met Cas's boyfriend. Dean. Who likes to take some of the credit for his boyfriend's relatively new disowned status, even though it had mostly been Cas being a badass, and finally, finally standing up for himself.)

So one might say things turned out fine, and there's no reason to hold grudges, but if Cas wanted to, Dean would have a hundred percent declared it valid.

But that's where Cas came in. That's where who he was, came in. A thinker, a dreamer, but grounded enough to not hold onto the anger. Independent, but rarely reckless. Plus, aware enough to work hard and reap well, while at the same time, searching for reasons to find the good in things.

Dean loves him, and admires him. Admires his intelligence, and tenacity, and courage. But this had never happened before.

Dean may have been the initiator of most hugs, but that could usually be traced down to Cas's nonexistent social skills, and Dean's embarrassing dependency on touch, in lieu of words. This, was one of the most passionately Dean had seen Cas feel something, outside of love.

And it was rattling.

If being this way — this ideal everything; top of his class, tireless, always in control — was burning Cas out, it couldn't go on. Dean would take a less 'functional' Cas over the wrecked-sounding prodigy in his arms anyday.

And god knew Dean Winchester was far from perfect himself.

There was only one way ahead.

Dean holds on quietly, and a couple minutes pass. Clearly Cas needs it, seeing as how he dissolves more into Dean as the seconds pass, the frustration leaving him vacant and devoid of energy.

"Cas?"

Cas shifts in his arm, tenses a bit. "I'm sorry, I —" He starts, sounding too obviously disappointed for some reason, and Dean hates it.

"Dude." Dean cuts him off, somehow not cheerful, but still bright. It's always easier talking someone down like this, and Cas has always, strangely, drawn from Dean's moods. "You're going to apologize for needing a hug?"

Cas remains quiet.

They both know it was more than that. Cas has calmed considerably, but he wasn't himself before. Or he was. Now, he's almost normal — but it feels like he's being who he's normally supposed to be again, and that's not good.

"Also," Dean continues, undeterred by the lack of response. "That guy? Sounds like a real piece of work. Ever thought of cutting him off?"

"It doesn't work that way."

"Don't see why not."

"Dean —"

"So it won't happen in a day." Dean realizes Cas is shifting again, and a little uncertainly, lets him pull away. Thankfully, he stays in Dean's space, albeit carrying his weight on his own two feet. Dean doesn't know what to do with his hands anymore, so he takes Cas's in them. Cas lets him. "It'll take time, be a process and whatnot, and you'll have me with you, you'll have all our friends really. Plus, isn't college about experimenting?"

Cas makes a sound which sounds like a chuckle he couldn't exactly help, and Dean preens, encouraged by it.

"And it's not like I'm about to let you go try and play for the other side," He adds, lightly. "You're stuck with me. But this could be your adventure."

There's a more comfortable silence.

Cas breaks it this time, clearing his throat. "You don't think I'm too young for a midlife crisis?"

"Take it from someone who raised Sam fucking Winchester, babe. This is way more of a teenage crisis." Cas cringes visibly at that, but that just means it's working. "Breaking out of your barriers, discovering who you really are? Netflix's coming-of-age producers are coming for your twenty seven year old ass."

Cas shakes his head, grumbling at him, but he's already sounding more like himself, and Dean can work with this. "You're mean to me sometimes."

"You tackle me like a mascot scoring a touchdown-hug sometimes."

Cas snorts. "That hardly makes sense."

"Your face hardly makes sense." Dean wastes no time in hurtling the first response in his head, and it earns him a less reluctant laugh. The weariness in Cas's voice remains, but the upset is wearing off.

"Great comeback, wasn't that?"

"Your face is a great comeback." Dean informs him with a huff, as he leans in to kiss the smug look off his boyfriend's face. Cas meets him halfways, tilting his head, and sliding a hand up Dean's arm and shoulder until it's around his neck. His fingers stroke the short hairs at the back of Dean's head, and he tugs just the way Dean likes it, earning a full shudder from the latter as he pulls back breathlessly.

"Are you trying to distract me?" Dean accuses dramatically, hand on his heart.

Cas shrugs, pulling on a nonchalant look, and almost succeeding. "You were making my dilemma sound too solvable. A man is excused some defense mechanisms, isn't he?"

"Not when I'm making progress, sunshine." Dean throws back. "Just, hear me out, okay? You want to do this, you're going to be making changes. Doing things, and more importantly, giving up things that don't feel like you. It doesn't even have to be a big deal. Unless you want it to be. I mean, you're a sucker for planning, making lists, that sorta thing, right?"

The easy smile has started returning to Cas's features again, and he nods. A little. (As if he appreciates Dean's rambling, and because he's Cas, he probably does.)

"So that's where we start. Hell, I could buy you a binder. There's this stationary place Charlie does not shut up about, and they might have those huge, black, spiralbound binders. Which I figure you're secretly obsessed with, you know, since you're secretly a nerd." Dean reasons, satisfiedly.

"It's hardly a secret."

"Oh, it is." He beams. "And I, your awesome, hot boyfriend, am your cover."

Cas rolls his eyes with feeling, leaving Dean basking in a momentary sense of accomplishment. But it's not the time. And it may have been him rambling, but it's not about him.

"So," He raises his eyebrows. "What do you say?"

Cas draws in a breath. "I say," he swallows. "Yes. Okay, I mean. Yeah. You — you make it sound doable. Plausible, somehow." Cas bites his lip. "Come to think of it, I haven't thought of a particular something I want to change, and I know I'll probably rethink everything six more times, and I know you'll still be patient with me, even when I don't change what doesn't feel right, just because I'm too used to it, and truthfully, maybe it's too soon to be thinking of changes, and we should slow down, especially you, because you're wonderful, but I don't think I can change myself as efficiently — and I don't think we can, either. But I'm grateful, and I agree, and I want to change things as well, and I'd like a binder, really, and you —" Cas scrubs his face with a hand. "I just know, that I - I feel different."

Dean grins. "Yeah?"

Cas breathes in again, slower. On the exhale, he sighs. "I love you."

"That ain't exactly a 'different' anymore, babe." Dean reminds, and it's all the motivation Cas needed to wrap his arms around Dean again, and plant a firm, telling kiss on his lips.

"I know. But it's easier to say, and I know you understand."

"Yeah, I do."

Dean smiles, and Cas mirrors it, crinkled eyes and showing gums, and an uncharacteristic dampness in his eyes in spite of the breathtaking smile, and it's too damn beautiful a sight to not kiss again.

So Dean does, and Cas only smiles wider, more beautiful.

*

In around twelve minutes, Cas's alarm for six forty-five goes off, and he pulls back in a frenzy — as dazed as Dean from the makeout, but senses just enough present to realize he's going to be late for his lecture.

They figure it out though, like they figure out most things — Dean puts together a sandwich while Cas gets dressed, and later drives him to class in his Baby, since he's obviously missed the bus. Cas ends up only three minutes late, and it's a good thing Dr. Harvelle is in a good mood, because she at least pretends to believe their unbelievably trite excuse, delivered in Dean's most earnest voice. ("Traffic.")

Later that evening, when Dean's back from his shift at the autoshop — it helps pay bills, and he gets to add 'experience' under engineering on his resume — and Cas is back from the hospital, and they're piled on the couch in front of the TV watching reruns of Doctor Sexy, tangled in each other, Dean remembers something he's been meaning to ask since the moment he gave what happened that morning, some thought.

"Hey, babe." he begins, as a by-the-way. "What exactly happened this morning?"

"I believe I tackled you like a mascot scoring a touchdown-hug." Cas answers, in the straightest of voices because he's hilarious like that.

"Yeah, I mean — you did." Dean snorts at the callback. "But like, what triggered it?"

"Oh." Cas pauses. "I believe we ran out of shaving foam."

"Shaving foam." Dean repeats, incredulously.

"Yes." Cas doesn't even have the courtesy to grin, when Dean snickers. "And usually, we have a spare bottle. I — I tend to make sure of it. But I checked, and we didn't, and I was supposed to make sure we don't completely run out of these things, and I didn't, and I —" He shrugs. "I just hated that I forgot, so much, in that one minute of staring at the mirror, and I was agitated, until —" Dean blinks, and Cas affords a tiny smile. "I realized I couldn't do this anymore. I had a revelation, it would seem, at how pointless all of that self-loathing was, and how I've tired entirely of being that person."

"So you got mad that you got mad?"

"I — kind of. But it was mostly the shaving foam." Cas points out, now deadpanning on purpose because Dean can't hold back the laugh. Nobody in the universe could have an identity crisis over shaving foam except for Castiel fucking Novak, and Dean gets to live with this ridiculous sonuvabitch, the adorable fucker, and watch him get more unbelievably perfect by the day.

"Cas?" He lets out, still laughing. "Proud as I am of your moment of truth, and you deciding to go easy on your expectations of you and all that, can I just say something?"

"Of course." Cas responds, immediately.

"I think I like you better with the peach fuzz."

And so it's Cas's turn to burst into a laugh, and it's not like Dean's stopped anyways, so eventually it's just the both of them laughing through the evening, and laughing through dinner, still tangled in each other, still piled on the couch, and Doctor Sexy still playing in the background, because some things change, and other things don't, and some things won't, and that's that.

[iplaymatchmaker]

Hi there, me again, if I read the rules correctlyyou said we could do a separate ask for a separate game. If I read incorrectlyplease just ignore this, if not if my first ask wasn't to much I'd love to ask for an ikerev matchup as well! I'm bi, female (she/her) sagittarius sun, virgo rising, libra moon, ENFT. I'm 5'2, chubby/curvy w/ great boobs, I have longer  brunette hair w/ peekaboo highlights (they've been every color, but currently pink), brown eyes, glasses/contacts, 7 piercings & 26 tattoos. I'm very empathetic (sometimes to a fault) and have sever anxiety and depression. It takes me awhile to warm up around new people and be myself. I often feel intimidated in big social settings, such as parties, and often use alcohol for some liquid courage to help me let loose and be me in those situations. I've suffered some emotional and mental abuse at the hands of a step parent which has left me with some trauma and triggers; people raising their voice at me or making quick movements toward me or in my direction usually result in me crying and secluding myself for awhile. Oh and I have daddy issues, thanks absent father. That said I also don't do great with authority, I hate being told what to do, and I hate being told no. I can put up with a lot of shit, but eventually it usually becomes a 'straw that broke the camels back' situation and I fly off the handle and then break down. I am also extremely generous and do all I can to help my friends and family when they need it. I have some self confidence issues from weight gain, and I usually feel my best when I'm dolled up with my makeup on and hair done, usually with a dress and heels. I'm a Ravenclaw thats hates to read, but I love learning & know tons of trivia; like I know so many random facts about so many things from history, to movies, to graveyards, and much more. I often correct people on things, which some perceive as me belittling them, but its never my intention I'm just trying to share my knowledge and trying to help them. I am very creative I love crafting; resin art, macrame, cross stich, those are just some of my favorite things to do art wise, I also enjoy coloring books. I love to laugh and think I'm pretty funny, I usually have a dark sense of humor, if you don't like humor we won't vibe together, and if you can't make me laugh we will not be a good relationship match. I like to go to the bar and do karaoke, it's one thing I've learned I'mvery good at. It took me about 2 years, but I've since learned to be confident with my singing and now its one of my favorite things to do. I drink, obviously, gin and tonic is my favorite. I also smoke, I love my hookah, and I've had my medical card for about a year and it's done wonders for my insomnia and cramps. For about 2 years I've been getting severe cramps and stomach pains, and after 5 er trips in a month they didn't find anything, its still a mystery but at least the bud helps the pain. l'm very into the witchy aesthetic; my style is either very Stevie Nicks, pinup, or 2009 emo/scene depending on the day. I collect animal skulls and bone, taxidermy, crystals, and plants; I also practice the craft & love to make spell jars for people. I love tarot and really enjoy doing it. I live for Halloween & enjoy all things macabre! My favorite show is That 70's Show and if I could live in a replica of the Forman's house that would be my dream. I am also very sex positive and rather adventurous in bed. I'm a brat and a voyeur, I'll get down with just about anything. My love language is giving and receiving gifts. I put alot of thought into holidays like Christmas, I plan months in advance to make sure I get everyone the perfect gift; but I also will sometimes see something that just reminds me of someone and have to get it for them. That is all I can think of right now to add about myself. I'd love 4 and/or 10 for the prompt part. And again thank you for doing these, I'm such a ho for them, and again I'm sorry its long.

I match you with

Edgar!

Thank you so much for requesting 🥰🥰! I’m sorry this took so long, but here it is! I hope you enjoy it ❤️! I Hope you don’t mind the sprinkle of angst in the second ask.😅

I was thinking Ray at first, but I ended up going with Mr smooth, since Ray is too predictable after Nap.

Edgar is known among the red army officers as the person who will make you feel safe, especially during your first encounters with them, before you find out they’re all dorks.  What he doesn’t expect is how at home he feels when the two of you are together. He never feels like he’s being judged when he’s around you and he lets himself go, despite the indoctrination by Claudius that he should always keep people at a distance to avoid being viewed as weak.

Not long after the two of you met, he decides to take you out along with Kyle for a drink, to help you get more accustomed to Cradle and its people. When you realize how much Kyle loves to drink, you follow suite, the two of you very quickly getting tipsy. Edgar laughs at the two of you for a bit, happy to see a new side of you as you allow yourself to grow more comfortable with them. Eventually he leads the two of you outside of the pub and arranges for a carriage to take you all back to headquarters, trying his hardest to tame the both of you.

He absolutely loves it when you sing to him, especially after a particularly hard day of work. He relaxes at the sound of your voice, often drifting off. It touches him more than he would like to admit when he finds you’re still there when he wakes up.

You are a light in his life and he wants to give back in kind, often dedicating his days off entirely to you. He loves giving you gifts, or surprising you with a romantic dinner to show his appreciation to you, for being there and understanding him.

While he doesn’t have the creativity to participate in most of your hobbies, he loves to watch you do it. The amount of passion you show for your art, the way your eyes light up when you’re working, is a picture perfect moment that he could look at for hours.

Prompt 4: Meet cute:

You couldn’t stop fidgeting as you stood outside the Red Army Headquarters, waiting for Kyle to fetch someone to help you. After you told him about burglars breaking into your house he insisted he get one of the officers to help you, despite you doubts. It was hard not to worry as you considered the prospect of having to turn to Jonah for help, knowing how hard he could be to communicate with, capable officer or not.  

When Kyle finally emerged, it wasn’t Jonah walking next to him, but a man you didn’t recognize.  

“Sorry for the wait. He’s not easy to find.” The man stood a few heads higher than you but his softer features and aura helped to make him quite welcoming. You begun to relax at his presence, wondering if he was as smooth as he seemed.

“Edgar Bright, at your service.” He offered you a gloved hand, a soft smile playing on his lips. His grip was soft but secure. He was smooth.

“Kyle filled me on the details but I’ll need a statement from you as well.” You tensed up, the idea of an interrogation being especially daunting considering you didn’t know much more than they did.

“No need to worry, it’s simply protocol. You can trust we will find whoever did this without any turbulence.” There was something very reassuring about him. Something that makes you think everything will be all right.

“Thank you.”

 The two of you left Kyle behind, retreating to Edar’s room to discuss the details of the investigation. After he poured two cups of tea he took the seat opposite you, as if the two of you were about to chat about the weather.

“Could you give me the details of what happened? It would be very helpful to hear it straight from the source.” You took a sip before starting with your statement, hoping to calm your nerves.

“I don’t know much more than you do. I was out for work most of the day and when I came back the place was a mess and many valuables were missing.” he seemed to have switched to work mode, completely focused on you.

“What time did you leave for work that day? And when did you return” he scribbled down on a piece of paper, his hand practically moving on its own.

“I left around 8 and came back around 6, I think.” When he put the pen down his attitude returned to relaxed gentleman status.

“I will start with asking the people who might have been present at the scene. I’ll get back to you once I’ve made some progress.” The conversation was over but you found it hard to leave. It didn’t feel right letting one man do the investigation on his own, despite it being his job. It was your house that had been rambled after all.

“I want to help as well. I know my way around the area, I can get in touch with some people.” His eyes widened, seemingly taken aback for the first time that day. He quickly composed himself, smiling again. You noticed something different about it now. Something in his expression told you he was more interested than before.

“I wouldn’t say no to a lady.” You smiled for the first time after the incident.

“Let’s get going then.”

 Prompt 10: Admission Of Feelings.

You continued working on the investigation for the next few weeks, the two of you growing closer by the day.

“There don’t seem to be any witnesses, but it’s unlikely no one was present. The break in happened in the middle of the day.” He rested his head on his chin, not touching the parfait sitting in front of him.

“Maybe they were there but didn’t notice anything. It’s not hard for a professional to pick a lock discreetly.” They two of you sat in silence for some time, both lost in your own theories of what happened that day.

He must have realized your worries, turning on his comfort face.

“We’ll find them. Don’t worry.” Usually you found his words comforting, but you couldn’t keep the frustration from your voice when you looked up at him.

“Realistically speaking, it’s probably not going to happen. They made a clean escape and left nothing behind. You don’t need to baby me, I can put two and two together.” Despite the harshness of your tone, you found him smiling, after the initial surprise wore off.

“You never cease to amaze me.” He opened his mouth to say something, but the words never left him, his eyes turning to the window. He was up and out of the café before you could ask what he had seen.

“What the-“when you looked in the direction of the culprit, you shot up, following after him.  

A man stood outside your door, seemingly fighting with the door. When he noticed the two of you approaching him, he dropped his bags, taking off before you could reach him.

“Stop!” Edgar run after him, his speed taking you by surprise, making it hard to catch up.

The man took a sudden turn, heading towards the narrow alleys of Central Quarter, giving you an important disadvantage in the chase.

Your legs ached and your heart was threatening to burst out of your chest. When you thought you couldn’t keep going, you rounded a corner to find Edgar, sitting on top of the man, pinning him in place. If he was tired from the chase, it didn’t show.

“I suppose I don’t need to ask if it was you who broke in a few weeks ago?” his gaze was cold and his grip was tight on the man’s shoulders.

“I- I just- I-it wasn’t me!” Edgar ignored him, turning towards you. Something flickered in his eyes, but loud footsteps coming your way didn’t let him act on whatever it was.

“The Jack? Sir, what happened? We heard the commotion and came to investigate.” A handful of Red Army soldiers stood in front of you, their eyes switching between Edgar and the man under him.  

“Take this man back to headquarters. I will interrogate him later.” Edgar pulled the man up, pinning his hands behind his back.

“Yes sir!” when the men led the thief away there was silence. Edgar’ kept his head low, not looking you in the eye as he tried to calm his breathing, the adrenaline of the chase slowly fading away. You knew you should be happy the man had been caught, but something was wrong in the atmosphere. You weren’t sure if you should speak up, or let him ride whatever it was out. He didn’t give you time to think on it, finally walking toward you. His hands were shaking when he reached out to touch your shoulders, a mixture of frustration and worry in his eyes.

“You…. Why…” you weren’t sure what to say, so you put your arms around him instead, hoping it would offer him some comfort. You stayed like that for some time, until his hands stopped shaking.

“I didn’t want you to see me like this.” His words were muffled by the fabric of your shirt. When he lifted his head again, something inside him seemed to snap.

“You shouldn’t have followed me. What if something happened? You could have gotten hurt.” He looked away, his eyes shut tight. You wondered what image was going through his head to cause him so much pain. You cupped his face, forcing him to face you.

“Edgar, look at me.” And he did. The sight of you seemed to calm him down.

“Nothing’s going to happen to me. I’m right here.” It took some time for the words to register, but when they did his face moved closer to you. You encouraged him, pulling him closer, your lips connected in a brief kiss. When he pulled away he took a step back, as if scared he had hurt you.

“I-I’m sorry.” You moved closer, smiling up at him.

“There’s nothing to apologize for. Except maybe pulling away.” You laughed. When he realized you might feel the same way he took your hands in his.

“You’re an amazing woman.” He paused to gather his breath before meeting your gaze again.

“If the thought wouldn’t be appalling, could I see more of you, outside of work?” you couldn’t keep the laughter inside.

“Appalling? Edgar, do you think I would kiss someone I find appalling?” you pulled him back in, hoping to get your point across.

“I’ll never get enough of this.” His smile was brighter than you’d ever seen it.

“I’ll hold you to that. Because we’re just getting started.” The moon was bright above you as you laughed, your happiness overflowing.

[goldenkookietae]

Contract - On the Table (M)

BTS One shot

Pairing: CEO!Yoongi x CEO!Reader

Word count: 7,020 words

Warnings: Smut, swearing, dom!yoongi, dom!reader, masturbation (male), spanking, oral (fem rec.), a lil bit of Taekook (mentions and intense gazes lol)

Summary: Y/N and Yoongi think their only common trait was to be on the cover of Brilliant Minds, a contract proves that they have more in common that they know.

A/N: After that Variety photoshoot? All of them be pulling off the damn CEO look and it has me drooling. This one was a request and I am more than happy that I wrote it. It’s pure filth, get me some Hobi water guys.

Disclaimer: This story is an AU fanfiction that I have created using the names of the members of BTS. I do not claim any ownership over the members of BTS. The plot and the personalities of the characters are entirely my own.

Do not plagiarize my work and do not repost.

Moodboard

*I do not claim ownership over any of the pictures. They are credited to their original owners.

“I want him.” Y/N declared as her fingers trailed over the smooth texture, imagining them touching the expensive suit and wondering how soft it would feel. Being on the cover page of Brilliant Minds was no joke and it was definitely something to be proud of. The most influential people made it there, the wealthiest, the ones with an attitude, astronomical ego and as they so popularly called it, a brilliant mind. Among all of these business magnets, the most common trait was that they were all too young to be that successful. That was exactly why they were called brilliant minds. They really did live up to the title.

The magazine didn’t have a publishing schedule. It all depended on coming across the right person to be in it. Needless to say, business soared right after the publication. Not that any of the people on its covers needed it, but it was a milestone, the highest of them all. The last one had been a month ago and the latest edition from just two days ago had definitely caught her interest.

The man staring back at her, his slim figure donned in a sharp grey suit, a hooded look to his eyes and his jaw clenched, looked impeccable. His single raised eyebrow said it all. This man was fucking proud. She could prove it from the barely noticeable raise at the corner of his lips.

Y/N fucking loved it. It was the same look that was etched onto her face since the past month. The previous copy of Brilliant Minds laid right next to the latest one and her own eyes stared back at her. She was fucking proud too.

“Funny, I heard he wanted you too.” Jungkook nodded from the other side of her desk. He quickly inverted the magazine towards himself as he flicked through the pages to the middle. It held another sharp cut of the same man with his side profile and Y/N immediately noticed the tantalizing jaw line. The two pages would have details of the interview with this man, and Y/N was definitely looking forward to reading his responses.

“Oh, really now? And how, may I ask, do you know that?” Y/N raised an eyebrow at her secretary, finding it unbelievable that he had insider information on almost everything. He was a social bird, and she hated that most of the time, she hated almost anything that was too loud and bubbly, which was exactly what Jungkook was. But there was a difference between how she treated others and how she was with Jungkook. She hated him in an almost, endearing way.

“Well, his secretary told me.” Jungkook shrugged and Y/N sat up straight. “How the hell do you know his secretary? And how close are you two?”

“We’re not that close, even if that’s what I want. Still getting to know each other. We only met a few weeks ago, we were drunk so ya know we just happened to roll around in the sheets and-” Jungkook stopped abruptly looking up at Y/N apologetically.

She raised an eyebrow higher as if to say, ‘Get to the point now’, and Jungkook did just that. “Anyway, we were talking about things that absolutely infuriate us, I didn’t mention you so don’t worry, but Taehyung accidentally blurted out that his boss was an annoying prick and had recently gotten obsessed with some contract that he wanted to get into with our company. I believe it started from your interview with Brilliant Minds.” He finished, tapping the magazine and shrugging.

“Interesting. Jungkook, I totally support you dating this guy. And I need you to do me just one tiny favour.” Y/N grinned, leaning back into her chair and clasping her hands together. “I need you to let slip, purely accidentally of course, that I’m interested in a contract with their company. And that I won’t stop pestering you about it. So infuriating, isn’t it?”

Jungkook let out a laugh as he narrowed his eyes playfully. “I don’t want to take advantage of him, but you know what, I think a contract will benefit all of us. More money and higher bonuses.” he sighed, nodding his head.

“And Jungkook,” Y/N added with a second thought, “I’m going to have to cut down all the business secrets you get to know. I’m not sure how well you can hold your tongue when the alcohol gets to you.”

Jungkook frowned immediately. “You’ve known me since we were babies and you know I don’t do that. And that plan won’t work because I have my ways, people always tell me everything.” he smirked, and Y/N rolled her eyes.

“Well, I wonder why no has told you yet that your fly is open.” she pointed to his pants and Jungkook immediately slapped his hands down to his crotch, fumbling with the zipper and realizing that it was secured to the top. He glared at her and she could see the promise in his eyes that vowed revenge for tricking him.

Y/N grinned. “Gotcha.”

Jungkook was always at the top of things and Y/N knew he did his job all too well. But nevertheless, it was still a surprise when Jungkook walked into her workspace the next evening, informing her that Taehyung had contacted him about his boss wanting to speak with her about a proposal.

“Seems like he jumped at the opportunity. I literally only told Tae last night. His boss must’ve been waiting for this to happen.” Jungkook analyzed the situation like he did to almost everything going on around him. It gave Y/N a different perspective sometimes and a headache all the other times. However, at the moment, she simply gazed at the magazine that had become a part of her room décor.

“Alright, I’ll speak to him.” she declared, as Jungkook nodded and instantly jotted it down onto her schedule. “I’ll gather his contact details and let you know. It’ll probably be just an introduction call, but you can discuss the actual details of the contract face-to-face. I’ll check with Taehyung for his schedule and book a meeting room-” Jungkook rambled mostly to himself as he noted down everything he could possibly do around the job.

“Kook,” Y/N stopped him with a sigh, “whatever you do is perfect.” Taking that as less of a compliment but rather his cue to leave, Jungkook nodded swiftly and backed out of her room.

No longer than an hour had passed and Jungkook had sent her the contact details. He slipped into her cabin just as she was opening his mail, drawing her attention to him.

“So, I think, it’s better if I get the basic talk done myself. I’ll try and get to know a little about what their idea is and maybe pitch in a few of mine. I’ll check with you on how you like it so then we could go ahead and set up a meeting. Taehyung and I will take care of stuff for now, you guys just have to finalise the deal when you guys meet.” Jungkook suggested.

Y/N nodded. Ultimately it was lesser work for her, and she thought it better to use her time to seal the deal rather than having introduction calls pretending like she actually cared about how the other person was doing. She just wanted her work done.

“Thank you Jungkook, you’re the best.” she muttered, before smiling and winking at him. “Have fun planning things with Taehyung.”

Yoongi was pissed. It didn’t matter that her secretary had come all the way to their office with a stupid gift pack to make up for rescheduling the meeting just an hour before it was set to begin. ‘Ms. Y/N had to deal with an emergency and had to cancel unfortunately. She’s deeply sorry to have caused you the inconvenience.’ Her secretary’s words still played in his mind and it made him sick. He knew more than anything that it had not been an emergency, it had to have been work related and it was so important that she cancelled out on him. He was livid.

He was already pissed about the fact that Brilliant Minds had put her on the cover before him, and it frustrated him that her company was a position higher than his on the official list of the most successful companies of the year. The feeling of coming next was new to him, he couldn’t get it out of his mind, and he would do just about anything to beat it.

He’d extended an offer just so he could see what was so special about her, but she’d cancelled on him, even after she’d seen him on the cover of the magazine. His company was no fucking joke. A million contracts for collaboration were at his doorstep and instead of choosing ones readily available he’d went ahead and approached hers all by himself, and for what? For her to call it off. He felt like a fucking idiot. He should never have let himself believe Taehyung’s words, sending out a formal invite based on rumors made up over a couple of beers.

He clenched his jaw tight as he downed the wine in one go, slamming his glass down on the table with a loud clank. Taehyung had left him a bunch of emails for him to check on but Yoongi refused to listen to his secretary at the moment. He considered firing the guy from his job but somehow, he knew he’d regret that once he got back into his work. Grudgingly, he went back to his desk, flopping down onto the chair and scrolling through his emails.

He wasn’t wrong. Being away from his work for two hours had landed him with over hundred emails and those were just the ones that Taehyung had filtered out as important for the time being since he knew Yoongi was in a terrible mood. Sighing, he looked into each one as quickly as he could, already mapping out how long it would take him to get them all done with.

He found one from Taehyung saying Y/N’s company wanted to reschedule the meeting and he immediately responded with a ‘fuck no’ and then proceeded to delete the mail for good riddance. Just after he’d done that, he noticed another one just below, and he clicked it faster than ever once he made sense of the sender’s name.

17:34 pm

Dear Mr. Min,

Please accept my sincere apology for being unable to attend today’s meeting. It was very important to me, but I had to cancel due to an emergency. I hope you understand. If you are still willing to go through with the contract, it would be my pleasure to reschedule the meeting to another time and date.

Do let me know of your thoughts and have a great evening!

Sincerely,

Y/N

Yoongi read the mail over and over again, feeding her contact details from her signature into his phone. He raised a finger to touch the mail right over the sender’s signature. He’d thought that he’d made up his mind, he never wanted to get into a contract with them again. But he was so wrong, this had been on his mind for more than a month and an apology mail from Y/N herself made him feel like he had the upper hand. He wouldn’t admit it, but he was smug at the fact that she wanted it as much as he did.

Without a moment’s delay, he typed out another mail to Taehyung, ‘Reschedule’, he wrote, not bothering to elaborate because it was more than obvious. He was going to meet her.

“I think you may have pissed him off.” Jungkook pursed his lips as he watched Y/N chuckle and shake her head.

“Look, when you’re running a company, you get busy and sometimes you can’t make it to stuff okay? We all have a one-track mind when it comes to work, and these kinds of things are normal. We don’t fight over that. What are we five? And plus, I sent him an apology mail, what more can I do?” She looked at Jungkook as though he was being ridiculous and he himself thought he was.

“True. It’s happened before but, I don’t know. When I went there to inform him, he seemed mad.” He sighed, clutching his fork and pushing it brutally through his spaghetti. Satisfied with how much he’d gathered after twirling his fork, he stuffed his mouth and began to chew loudly.

Y/N stared at him amused. “It’s fine. I’ll make sure to let him know again how sorry I am for cancelling and he’ll have to be okay with that.” Jungkook nodded, puckering his lips and sucking stray spaghetti into his mouth. “So you’re nervous.” Y/N said casually, sipping her wine and staring at Jungkook over the rim of her glass.

“M ’not. Why’d I be.” Jungkook rolled his eyes, gulping down his food and staring at her, no doubt demanding an explanation. “Taehyung is going to be here in two hours, Jungkook. You’re nervous. Don’t be, you’re amazing.” She smiled at him and Jungkook frowned. He opened his mouth to deny it but shut it closed as soon as Y/N raised her eyebrows at him. Sighing, he chomped down the last bit of his meal as he gulped slowly.

“Yeah okay, I am nervous. But you’re right, I’m awesome so I don’t really have any reason to be.” He nodded to himself and Y/N snorted. “Make sure you don’t do any funny business under the table alright? This is a professional, work thing.” She chuckled dismissing the glare Jungkook gave her.

Y/N was waiting near the window, her phone in hand as she went through random news articles. Jungkook had just slipped out of the room, no doubt welcoming that day’s meeting attendees and leading them to the meeting room. No longer than five minutes later she heard footsteps outside the door and straightened herself to her full height.

Jungkook entered with two men on his trail and she could tell that no matter how professional the pictures in the magazine looked, seeing Yoongi in the flesh was unbelievable. Everything about him screamed arrogance and pride, making his presence stand out as eye-catching. It was evident from his jet-black hair styled neatly to the side, the expensive maroon suit he donned, the Rolex glinting from his wrist and the indifferent look in his eyes. Despite being shorter than Jungkook and the blonde-haired man who she assumed was Taehyung, he still dominated the stage with the way he held himself.

His eyes met hers and, in a flash, so fast she could’ve missed it, he had scanned her from top to toe, as though he’d noticed that she’d done the same thing to him. Out of all the introductions Y/N had had with potential clients and business partners, the one with Yoongi bagged the award for being the most intense. Not once were too happy smiles or polite greetings exchanged, just hooded gazes, nods and tiny smirks.

The meeting never came to the discussion of whether or not to take up a project together, it was as though they’d already decided on that a long time ago, the meeting was just to kick off the project. Y/N had taken her time considering bringing up the what if’s of not making the deal, but half-way through the meeting, the kind of ideas she and Yoongi had come up with together pushed the thought right out of her mind.

Over the span of two hours, they’d laid out a rough draft of a road map, and they hadn’t even realise that they’d downed all the beverages without paying the slightest bit of attention. They had another meeting scheduled for the next week, and Y/N seemed to notice that Yoongi had pushed down something on his schedule to make up time for it. For the past fifteen minutes that was all Y/N had been doing, staring down Yoongi as he talked to Taehyung about setting up a call with his internal team. She had already put up Jungkook to the same task, but right then, she was more interested in Yoongi’s mannerisms.

Y/N had a hard time keeping her eyes away from the way his jaw moved, sharp and defined making her wonder how hot it looked when he while he was making out. Every once in a while, he would swipe his tongue over his lips or the tip of his tongue would poke out the side of his mouth, accompanied by that gaze that made him look like he wanted to eat her out.

Instantly, her mind flooded with pictures of how that scene would play out, how he could bend her over that table right there and shatter her sanity with everything he wanted to do to her. As her mind came up with images of him pushing his fingers into her, and her gaze slipped to his hands, she was not at all disappointed. His long fingers, studded with metal rings had to be the sexiest pair she’d ever seen and whenever he pointed to something or did random gestures, her thighs clenched, imagining them moving inside of her.

When they’d concluded the meeting, it seemed as though Yoongi knew what Y/N had been doing and she knew he felt the same. The lust in her eyes reflected in his too and she didn’t miss the way his touch lasted a little longer than it should’ve for someone as professional as he when they shook hands. Yoongi smirked at her as he exited the meeting room and his hand almost shot to his crotch when he saw her smirk back at him.

As soon as Jungkook was back in Y/N’s room after escorting Yoongi and Taehyung out of the meeting room, she groaned, imagining all the work Jungkook no doubt would’ve laid out in her schedule for her to do. It was that time when she was feeling good and thought she was on the top of everything, but it always ended with Jungkook reminding her of a ton of things that had to be done on priority.

“I was actually having a good day, don’t dump work on me now.” She said anyway, knowing Jungkook would never listen to her because that was his job. She was the boss, he was the secretary and she had to get work done, not delay it.

“You say that, and when you actually have nothing major to do, you whine about not having work instead of chilling. You love working, stop complaining.” Jungkook called her out and Y/N sighed as she realized that was exactly how it was.

“Really. You use that phrase to dump work on me now?” She asked, still being stubborn and fighting against a lost cause.

“We can talk about that, or we can talk about how you and Yoongi eye fucked each other today.” Jungkook said casually, and Y/N rolled her eyes, chuckling slightly.

“Was it that obvious? He’s hot. I’m hot.” She shrugged and Jungkook shook his head. “Taehyung and I were wondering when you’d both jump onto the table and do the nasty, but surprisingly you guys held it in.”

“Alright fine. Give me my schedule and leave. We all noticed the intense stares you and Taehyung were giving each other. I think I remember him squeezing your thighs under the table. Everything okay done there, JK?” Y/N raised her eyebrow and held out a hand, smiling at how Jungkook blushed and placed his tablet in her hand.

“Whatever.”

Twenty minutes into the video on his personal laptop, ready to relieve his stress for the day, and Yoongi realized that he really had fucked up. He had fucked up the very first day he’d come back from the first meeting with Y/N with an aching cock. And to add the cherry on top, he’d gotten rid of his boner jerking off to explicit scenes of Y/N that his mind had conjured up so readily.

Even when he made a conscious effort to pay attention and jerk off to the porn on his computer screen, his mind drifted off to Y/N, and that would be the only way he could get off anymore. Had she been his secretary, he would’ve fucked her already by then, maybe more than just once. With that thought becoming regular, he waited for his cock to get up and make him feel alive as he played his favorite porn to correct the mistake he’d made and get back to normal.

He almost thought his dick was broken as he plainly watched a boss fuck his secretary as punishment, until he closed his eyes and he was in his office, with Y/N standing in front of him, her ass tucked into a short tight skirt and her black blouse shaping her figure so well he wanted to rip it off of her.

“Fuck!” Yoongi groaned feeling himself growing hard at the thought of Y/N being his secretary, constantly following him around in tight dresses that left little to the imagination, doing everything he told her to do and taking punishment whenever she made a mistake. His cock was aching, and his hand moved to the tip of his cock already dripping with precum. Giving up his efforts to go back to normal a millionth time, he indulged in his fantasy and his hand gripped his cock tightly, spreading his precum over his length.

His mind was reeling, and he was then standing over Y/N bent over his table, recreating the scene on his computer with her and himself. Instead of punishing her, he was rewarding her for doing a good job on the project, stroking the soft flesh of her bare ass held in the air just for him to touch and do with whatever he pleased.

His hand moved up and down his length, and he groaned when the fantasy version of himself slipped two fingers between Y/N’s dripping folds, bringing her juices to his cock, his tip leaking with precum and he jerked as he pressed his thumb to his slit.

“So good for me, aren’t you sweetness?” He whispered, his fingers plunging into her tight heat and curling as she gasped, laying helpless with her face pressed to his table and hands held behind her back.

“Yes, sir. Just for you.” Y/N mewled, as Yoongi thrust his fingers into her faster, his hips now jerking up from the mattress as he fucked into his fist, his mouth opening at how delicious she sounded, a little bit of drool slipping past her lips as her mouth hung open with how good he made her feel. He increased his pace at that thought, the fact that he was the one making her feel so good that her body quivered with unbearable pleasure.

The thought made him angry, pissed at how he was jerking off to the satisfaction of pleasing her, and to make himself feel better, he slapped her ass harshly, once, twice and he kept going, Y/N’s body moving forward with the force, and he was sure that it was stinging at that point. Yoongi expected her to scream, beg him to stop as he spanked her relentlessly and his fingers pushed into her heat brutally, but even in his fantasy, his mind betrayed him, and Y/N moaned.

“More.” she begged.

“Fuck, that’s so hot. Fuck fuck fuck!” Yoongi grunted as he reached his peak, spilling ropes of white hot cum over his hands, chest and his sheets. As he rode out his high, he imagined Y/N cumming on his fingers, her body shaking from her orgasm and she tried to look back at him from the table. “Thank you, sir.”

Yoongi groaned, his hands having a mind of their own as he brought his fingers to his mouth and sucked on them, where behind closed eyes, he tasted Y/N’s sweet arousal. A growl ripped through his chest as he swallowed, his tongue circling over his fingers until he had cleaned out every drop. Slowly opening his eyes, he took note of the mess he was in his bed.

He shut down his laptop harshly, throwing it to the side as he cleaned himself with the tissues by his bedside. His habit had turned into an addiction and if his fantasy made him so hard, he couldn’t comprehend what it would be like to actually be inside of Y/N.

On the pretense of discussing pressing issues, he found himself at her office countless times, and he couldn’t help all the dirty thoughts his mind came up with when they sat across each other. And the fact that he knew she wanted it, she thought about him just as much, made him leave her office with a hard on every single time.

Not surprisingly he’d come to realise that fantasy-secretary-Y/N and the actual Y/N were nothing alike. He was always in control when he imagined her as his secretary, but when it came to the woman who came up with solutions for issues in the project, the CEO of the company he wanted a deal with, the arrogant one who was on the cover of Brilliant Minds, it was evident that Y/N was always in control.

While Yoongi was used to people honoring his opinions above all else, Y/N had no problem turning them down, only picking up the points that interested her and were beneficial to the project. It irked him that she always had a logical explanation for every idea she refused, and he’d understood in quiet a short while as to why her company was doing as good as it was.

Even when they both checked out each other, she never showed signs of weaknesses and his idea of distracting her from work with his seductive demeanor wouldn’t go as planned, and it made it harder for him to convince her to implement his opinion. He never dared to act out on his fantasies; his work was not something he wanted to put at risk when he was responsible for employing so many people.

He’d adopted her thinking technique swiftly after, and then seemed to agree with most of her opinions, she was helping him grow that was for sure, and over the course of six months while their project was implemented and went into the market, Yoongi was at par with her thoughts. He would point out flaws in her ideas and if he thought he was the expert before, he had definitely perfected his decision-making abilities after the deal with Y/N.

At the first mistake he’d ever pointed out, Y/N had been surprised, and then she’d slowly gotten used to it, her own mind gearing up for a battle as she worked harder to spot his mistakes. With a silly quarrel keeping the project efficient at all times, it bloomed through the market and the both of them were fairly satisfied.

Their deal was a hit, and it was only natural that they’d pursue more. In no time, another contract was made, this time with higher investment, more project staff and greater focus on marketing. They were so damn sure of success.

“So what do you propose be our strategy?” She asked, her eyes not leaving his lips as she bit her own. It was impossible to look away from his face and she was fully aware that she was checking him out again with no shame, but when she realized he was doing the same to her countless times, she just couldn’t get rid of the habit.

“Let’s go deep. Let’s do something that makes us feel good too.” Yoongi rasped and if she was distracted before, her mind was completely astray now. His words held an entirely different meaning and she was starting to grow hot from whatever he had implied.

Yoongi felt the same, the way Y/N’s eyes had widened by the tiniest fraction and then fallen down to a low hooded gaze had him licking his lips in anticipation. He had been hard since the moment his legs had accidentally touched hers under the table, and just the thought of being able to feel them with his hands made his cock strain against his pants.

All he wanted to do in that moment was, to pull Y/N onto the table, mount her and make her scream his name as he pounded into her. He wanted to feel the fantasy he’d jerked off to every night in the past few months, the night before and that morning when he decided to ask her to come and meet him for no particular reason. He wanted to see her in his office for a change, and he no doubt felt in control.

Her presence, the way she looked at him with her chin held high, the way she shot down some of his ideas by pointing out the loop holes, the way she’d raise an eyebrow and subtly tilt her head whenever she made a point, every time she exuded power in even the tiniest things she did, fucking everything turned him on.

To be constantly beaten at his own damn game with the dominance she had, made him pissed. He wanted to put her in her place, and at the same time he wanted to kneel down and do anything she’d say. Even then, as he watched her drag her lips through her teeth, it made him furious, furious that he wasn’t the one doing it. Involuntarily his body sat up and he watched her rise in the same moment, a brief pause before they were both leaning over the table and crashing their lips together.

Y/N tasted divine, a low groan rumbled deep in Yoongi’s chest as his tongue met hers instantly, the realization of her hastiness bringing on a wave of arrogance as he tried to savage her mouth. His tongue had explored her mouth for barely two seconds before she was pushing again, her tongue clashing with his as they fought for dominance. It was so important to the both of them, their ego slipping into the way they kissed, bit, licked, nipped, sucked and it would only end when one of them would surrender. It didn’t seem likely.

As they pulled apart for breath, his lips pressed to her jaw and his hands went around her waist pulling her onto the table to sit. With one sharp tug he pulled her across to himself, twisting her completely towards him and wrapping her legs around his waist. Y/N’s skirt bunched up at her thighs and Yoongi’s hands instantly pressed onto her skin, palming and squeezing the soft skin as his lips mapped their way back to hers.

Yoongi had imagined that Y/N would give up fighting after all this time, but even as he pulled her crop top over her head and cupped her breasts, she still managed to dip her tongue into his mouth, never losing control even as she moaned at the way he fondled her breasts. A soft whine slipped past her lips as Yoongi pulled away from her, his own lips missing her touch as he unhooked her bra with one hand and threw it behind him, closing the distance between them again as he sucked her breast into his mouth.

He rolled his tongue around her nipple and Y/N gasped, gripping his hair and bringing him closer to her. He released her breast from his mouth with a small pop, his face burying itself in the valley between her breasts and inhaling the fragrance. He dragged his tongue all the way to her neck, her jaw, her chin and eventually into her open mouth. He sucked on her tongue as she took a hold of his tie, pulling it loose and snapping open the buttons of his white shirt.

Y/N was desperate to touch Yoongi and as soon as her hands felt the warmth of his smooth skin under her fingers she sighed, laying her palms flat against his chest and rubbing the skin. She had waited too damn long and at that moment she didn’t care if someone would knock on the door. She hadn’t missed how Yoongi had locked his door behind her when she came in, but either way it wouldn’t matter if anyone walked in on them at that point. She wanted him, and she would have him.

Catching up to her hastiness Yoongi undressed just as quickly, throwing away his blazer which was followed by his shirt and tie. His hands moved to Y/N’s skirt, flicking the buttons open and pulling down as her hands worked on unbuckling his belt. As his trousers dropped to the floor, he pulled his briefs down to his ankles, his cock springing free from the containment and growing painfully hard at the sight of Y/N stepping out of her skirt.

He stopped her as she moved to pull off her thin black stockings, staring at the skin he could see through the translucent material. His mind snapped a picture of how Y/N looked right then, naked on his table, with a poor excuse for cloth covering her legs which were accentuated by her black pumps.

“Those stay on.” He growled, and much to his annoyance she bit her lip and smirked at him. As he made to grab her waist, Y/N put a firm hand on his shoulder. With the slightest pressure, she was pushing him down, face lowering past her shoulders, jaw and her navel to the only place that he knew he wanted to be at.

Her strength was incomparable to his really, and he could throw her off in a second if he wanted to, but her eyes fixed on his sent him into a trance and he was surrendering, sitting on his knees, his eyes leveling with her dripping heat.

“Eat me.” Y/N commanded and without a second thought, Yoongi buried his face into her heat, his tongue licking a broad strip over her folds gathering her sweet juices. Y/N moaned as her hands clutched his hair, tugging at the roots in want.

The treat was long awaited, and Y/N enjoyed just how good he looked at that moment, his face stuffed into her core and doing all she told him to. Yoongi poured in all of his anger into it, how she’d pissed him off, how she’d constantly kept him sexually frustrated for the past few months and just how unfair the situation was when she displayed her power.

His mouth ravaged her, gulping down every drop that slipped from her heat and pushing his tongue into her hole for more. His hands grabbed her thighs, feeling the soft material of her stockings stretch under the force of his fingers. Pulling up both of her legs, he rested them on his shoulder, the pointed edge of her pumps digging into his back as she clenched her thighs around his head.

Y/N gripped her hands at the edge of the table as Yoongi fucked her with his tongue, the soft muscle curling inside her walls wonderfully as his hands kept her from shutting her thighs together from the pleasure. She wanted to finish right there, and she knew that was what Yoongi would love to do to her, make her cum with his tongue alone. Gripping Yoongi’s hair tighter she pulled him away from her heat, his eyes hooded with lust as her juices dripped down his chin. She pulled his face closer to hers, swiping her tongue from his chin to his bottom lip, collecting her arousal and pushing it into his mouth. He let her in so easily, lapping hungrily at the sweetness and moaning.

“I want you inside me.” She moaned, reaching for his cock and pumping it twice to spread the pre cum leaking from his tip before pushing the tip into her heat. Yoongi grunted at the sudden shift in pleasure, his eyes closing as he pushed into her fully and bottomed out.

“Fuck, so tight. So wet, sweetness.” He groaned, and Y/N held on tighter to him, pushing him backwards until he landed on the chair behind while she settled down on his lap. She pushed down onto him slowly, rolling her hips and adjusting to his size. Her hands gripped his shoulders for support and Yoongi wrapped his around her waist to keep her from falling.

Her lips were latched to his collarbone sucking on his skin no doubt creating the same red patterns that he had done over her chest and shoulders. His hands moved up the span of her bare back to her neck and he slipped his hands into her hair and pulled her face to his. He managed to kiss her while she bounced on his cock, her breasts touching his chin and neck with every move.

He cupped her ass as she circled her hips against him, and he buried his face once more between her breasts. He tightened his hold on her as he hauled her up, and placed her on the table, pushing her backwards and laying her down as he climbed the table on his knees, straddling her. Smirking, she spread her legs wider, and Yoongi’s eyes slipped to her heat, groaning at how filthy the sight was to look at. Another push and he would crumble.

His eyes flared in anger at her cockiness and he decided on the only thing he could do. Punish her. He thrust into her suddenly, knocking the breath out of her as he bottomed out, only giving her a second to compose herself before he slammed into her repeatedly. Y/N’s face was twisting into a fucked-out look that Yoongi considered dangerous rather than a sign of weakness.

Her body jerked as he pushed into her, moans slipping out from her mouth with every thrust and sometimes overlapping to turn into gasps as he increased his pace. His hands were laid flat on her belly holding her down and making sure she took every inch of his length. She let out a slight gasp as he smacked her breasts, marveling at how they bounced with every thrust. Looking down on her as he towered over her naked figure, spread out on his office table while he pounded into her, it was his fantasy coming to reality.

He savored every moment of being in control, being the one that made her look so fucked out underneath him that the sight alone had his orgasm teetering on the edge. But he refused to give in, he refused to come until she did, and with all the will power he had in him, he pulled her up by her waist and held her tight to his chest, hitting her deeper from the new angle.

Even as his ego swelled, he knew he was far from being in control. He’d already seen what Y/N could do; she had made him get on his knees first, and he had enjoyed it more than he would’ve ever imagined. At that moment, as he sucked on her breasts and his hand teased her clit, he knew that she was letting him be in control. It was obvious that they both were into power play. Y/N was her own person, independent, strong and she didn’t need anybody but herself to keep her satisfied, much like him and that made everything about her so god damn sexy.

As Y/N felt the cool metal of Yoongi’s Rolex rub against her clit, she shivered, pushing herself down to match every one of his thrusts, the feeling of him deep inside and the cool metal on her nub driving her closer to her orgasm. Yoongi was quick to observe, her walls clenching around him tightly, and he worked his fingers faster on her clit, desperate to get her to reach her release first.

He almost thought he’d succeeded as Y/N’s walls were so tight around him, he let himself climb the high and as soon as he let his guard down, he knew he was done for when he noticed the glint in her eyes. She swooped down to lick a broad strip across his abdomen and with the same need to devour him, she pulled his nipple into her mouth, biting the pebble and twisting her tongue around the skin deliciously. When she moaned against his skin, the vibration shot straight down to his cock deep inside her and he shattered. As he groaned into her hair, his fingers instinctively pinched her clit and she was following him, tipping over the edge.

Both had their heads tilted back as they rode out their highs, their pants becoming the only thing they could hear as the sound of their skin slapping together reduced and eventually halted. Y/N could feel Yoongi’s hot load dripping out of her heat, pooling on the table as they clutched each other tight.

Once they’d both regained their breathing, Y/N chuckled and bit her lip. “That was a good strategy. Very deep.”

Yoongi snorted. “Yes, I do love how it fit so perfectly.” He murmured against her hair and pushed into her slightly to emphasis on the fitting part. As soon as he did, he was growing hard again, and the fact that Y/N’s walls were still so snugly wrapped around him was only adding fuel to the fire.

Y/N looked at him with raised eyebrows, “Is that what I think it is?”, she bit her lips and Yoongi blushed. When he made to pull out, Y/N wouldn’t let go of him, holding him tighter and inside her.

“Door’s locked.” She grinned and Yoongi cursed, almost cumming again right there.

He growled as he picked her up off the table and carried her to the nearest wall. Playfully biting at her nose, he pressed her against the wall, lips finding hers as they dove back in. In his mind, he’d figured out his schedule for the day, and he would do it over and over on every inch of his office.

“It will be as long as you’re here, sweetness.”

Masterlist - Main | Masterlist - Imagines | Navigation

[sun-flower-children]

Party Jealousy

Peter Parker x male reader

FLUFF

A/N: requested by an anon

(Y/N) and Peter had been friends since the beginning of middle school. Peter being shyer and interest is unconventional things were more of an outcast but (Y/N) was more social and it came to no surprise to anyone that he became popular. His outgoing and positive energy just really vibed with everyone. Through middle school (Y/N) stuck by Peter making their friendship known. During their middle school experience (Y/N) would try to bring Peter to the dances, so that he too could enjoy the evening with his friend group. Peter being the small nervous bean that he is, he never agreed to attend leaving (Y/N) pouting that he wouldn’t come. 

Over time they developed other friendships: Peter with Ned and (Y/N) with his friends. In highschool not much had changed except that now people were coming up to (Y/N) confessing their feelings or asking him out. Boys and girls all over school had thrown their hearts out to him and every time he politely declined to say that they seemed like wonderful people but he just wasn’t looking for a relationship. Peter and (Y/N) still hung out often, reserving every other Saturday was specially reserved for each other. Often spent taking pictures, walking around while discussing everything and nothing. Many of the pictures on (Y/N) Instagram had been taken by Peter himself.

 It was during one of these hangouts that Peter realized something about himself. Every time you would laugh his heart would flutter. When you would hug him he would feel nervous butterflies flying around in his stomach and feel his cheeks tint dusty pink. His heart beats two times faster when he sees you wearing a sleeveless tank or a tight-fitting shirt. Peter cherished your guys’ friendship too much to ever think of confessing. You had become too big of a piece in his life to ever let you go. He kept these to himself, doing his best so that no one would ever guess that he felt his way towards his best friend.

Then in their senior year, (Y/N) dutifully asked Peter to come to one of his friend’s house parties, knowing full well that Peters only New Years’ resolution was to talk to people more. Peter couldn’t say no to your cute pouting face when you asked him to please go with you so that he could at least try to fulfill his resolution. The party was in the richer part of town and you popped over to Peter’s house to help him dress up. You had the key, as Aunt May trusted you, and walked yourself into their apartment. 

“ Peter ?” You asked.

 “ Huh? (Y/N)? Uh yeah, I’m here.” 

He was standing in front of this closet trying to decide what to wear. 

“ You still haven’t chosen what to wear? Dude’s a casual party, don’t sweat it.” 

“ Easy for you to say. You go to these all the time!” 

“ Do you want me to help you then? Put my expertise to the test?”

Peter slapped your arm in a joking manner making you laugh. 

“ I got you that pair of ripped jeans last year for your birthday. You should wear those. Oh! And that one t-shirt that makes your arms look more buff.”

He stared back at you blankly. Clearly sending the message of ‘I know your saying words but I am just not computing anything. Send help’. (Y/N) sighed gently pushing Peter out of the way to rummage through his closet to find the items he previously mentioned. 

“ Pete you need to clean out your closet. You still have clothes from middle school that doesn’t even fit you anymore! C’mon.”

Peter mumbled a ‘sorry’ as he sat down on the bed, pulling out his phone to scroll through Instagram as he waited. 

“ Boom! Pete here’s your outfit including socks. I already choose your shoes. While you change I am going to make some enchiladas so that we don’t starve. We don’t know what food there’ll be.”

After changing and eating the two of them hopped into (Y/N)’s car. After driving twenty-something minutes they arrived and Peter slunk into his seat. You put your right hand on his thigh and looked at him straight in the eye. 

“ Pete.”

“ Uh-huh?” 

“ You look hot and I am confident that you can make it through this party only after having some fun. If you ever feel overwhelmed just come up to me and tug my shirt two times. You won’t even have to say anything. Okay?”

Peter took a deep breath, looking away from your face and instead st your hand, feeling his face warm-up from your gaze and your words. 

“ Yeah Okay.”

You beamed back at him and gently squeezed his thigh. 

“ Let’s go have some fun.” 

Just walking up to the house three people greeted you and you were almost bombarded by people when you walked to the food table. You being you smiled at everyone and, to those you knew better, you exchanged choreographed handshakes. As you being mingling Peter squeaked out some lame excuse to leave the large group to someplace that was less densely populated with people. Awkwardly leaning against a wall, with a cup in his left hand, and his phone in his right.

“ So you came to this lame party too?”

Peter’s head shot up quickly making eye contact with a familiar face.

“ Hey MJ.”

“ This isn’t typically your scene. Shouldn’t you be home playing with your legos?” She joked. Peter knew her well enough to know that she didn’t mean any harm. 

“ I let (Y/N) drag me to this party.”

“ Oh? You let him?”

“ Y-yeah.”

MJ leaned on the wall right next to him and looked into the party. More specifically straight at (Y/N).

“ He’s hot.”

“ Yeah, he’s attractive.” Peter let himself agree because he doesn’t spend hours of his day looking over pictures that he has of you that he hasn’t let you see yet. He let himself think about the last time the two of you hung out and began reminiscing the photos he took. While he was zoned out he was unaware that MJ was still talking to him. Until she shook his arm. 

“ Peter look there’s a girl clinging onto his arm. Is (Y/N) even straight? I’m pretty sure he’s gay.”

He couldn’t help himself and quickly looked in your direction to see that in fact there was a girl standing a little to close to you for his liking. Peter felt this angry heat slowly fill up his chest thinking ‘ how dare she stay to close to him’ but immediately seeing his negative reaction he took deep breaths to calm himself. ‘ I don’t have any control over him. He can do whatever he wants.’ Then why did he feel like this? The two of you weren’t romantically involved and he was just a friend in your eyes.

“ Peter you look really angry. What is doing on?”

Without even saying anything MJ put two and two together. How is gaze was trained on you and how you were mingling with the other party attendees. MJ was going to open her mouth to say something when suddenly Peter walked away from the wall towards you. As Peter made his way to you another girl started touching your chest. 

“ Oh hey, Pete-”

Peter quickly pulled the bottom oh your shirt twice and then started walking outside. (Y/N) said that he needed to go outside quickly and went after Peter. He was waiting for you by where you parked your car. 

“ Hey, Pete what’s wrong.”

“I am really angry and it’s totally stupid too.”

“ Pete you are not stupid and your feelings are valid. Just tell me what happened.”

“ I was talking to MJ and then she pointed out how you had girls coming up to all the time and that they were always flirting with you. You’re always letting them touch you. It’s really really frustrating to see you like that. Then I started feeling really angry and I could feel all of this negative energy in my chest. It made me feel like a bomb about to explode. I’m sorry this is stupid I should have let you stay in the party.” Peter rambled.

He stared at his feet as if they were the most interesting thing he’s ever seen. His face felt like it was melting off and the thudding of his heart was almost like a throbbing head ached. He was mentally preparing himself to get told off or even rejected for what hints of a crush that he just gave. Hands clenched to his sides and he just now noticed how his classic plastic red cup is beyond destroyed as he is holding it with a death grip. Noticed how his vision was starting to blur and bring upon arm to wipe what he was desperately hoping are not tears. Without saying anything (Y/N) wrapped his arms around him. Peter instinctively wrapped his arms around your torso bringing you closer, engulfing himself in your familiar scent. At some point, you started to sway and he just followed your rhythm after resting your head on his shoulder/head ( depending on how tall you are). 

“ I’m sorry (Y/N)” Peter mumbled into your shirt.

 “ I didn’t know you felt that way, Pete.”

“ I didn’t know I could be that angry at someone I don’t know.”  

“ Let’s just go home. I don’t really want to be here if it’s making you cry.”

Peter didn’t say anything but he nodded in agreement and the two settled back into the car for the short drive back. There was no more talking but the soft sounds of the jazz radio playing through the radio. Peter wrapped his arms around himself feeling the cold air from the half-opened window. Wordlessly  (Y/N) understood and reached in the backseat for his hoodie which he immediately gave to the cold boy. Now having a warm and comforting layer he could enjoy the fresh air from outside and you drove him. After parking your car, you both walked up the stairs to his door. Before he could open the door, you pulled Peter back into another hug. 

“ Pete do something nice for yourself and don’t beat yourself up about. Crying is a normal thing for humans to do.” Your voice was soft and gentle with a rhythm that calmed him down. Before letting him go you brought one hand to tuck some of his hair behind his ear. 

“ Go to bed at a reasonable time Pete. Do it for me please.” 

After kissing him gently on his forehead and turned around for your car.

“ (Y/N)!” Peter whisper-yelled.

“ Yeah, Pete!” You whisper-yelled back as you turned around. 

“ You know I kind of confessed to you earlier.”

“ I do.”

And with that, you turned around again for the last time that night and didn’t look back.

[thevikingwoman]

Sorry, another ask! L4 for any of your OCs and L6 (although I don't think any of your OCs are objectively "bad guys"; I am curious as to who you think has the greyest moral compass though).

Thank you!! (never too many asks lol) I am going to talk about all the main ones. 

L.4. Would you hang out with your OC if you could?

Let me take Iwyn, and say YES. She is just... very nice, and easy to get along with. It’s in her nature to try and be friends with everyone, so I think it would be easy. 

I think Branwen would annoy me, he is too moody and temperamental, then again it mostly expresses itself when he is frustrated. So if he was in good mood, probably? Or Older Branwen who grew into his Keeper role quickly - he is a lot more chill and wise. 

I honestly don’t think I have a lot in common with Mira - she is too young and too ‘fighty’. 

I don’t feel like I know Ragnhild well enough yet to say. 

 Enara would intimidate me, lol, but it would probably be fine. 

L.6. Which OC do you think is the worst morally or behaviorally? AKA, which is supposed to be a “bad guy”?

You are right, none of my OCs are bad guys. I think it depends on what shade of grey you are looking for. Both Mira and Ragnhild could, if slighted enough or if they felt unsafe enough respectively, be driven to be very selfish, what ever that means. But I don’t think it would be ‘villainous’. 

Enara is interesting. I’m not sure if she is the most morally grey, but she has potential. If she had survived longer, she would eventually had become very powerful, and would have been part of the Evanuris instead of her brother. She was much more interested in politics and social status than Solas ever was - she is the reason he ended up where he did. He does think of her in a very positive way, he feels she was, in general, more ‘good’ than him, but some of that is a memory, and not what could have been. Since she is an ancient elf, had she lived, she would have gone through quite some changes. Her words and premonitions was part of what made Solas resist the other Evanuris, but had she been in it herself, what would she have done? Could she have resisted the power and privilege of effective godhood? I honestly don’t think so. And I think having a Goddess who can not only see glimpses of the future, but had her power grown to her full potential, been able to (magically) influence it and use her knowledge of what consequences certain things would bring - that would have been terrifying. 

Now, for Iwyn - she generally has a strong moral compass, and she tries to do good. But I can see some ways it could become skewed grey, and unlike my other OCs, she has an active desire to be in charge of things. She wants to protect as many people as possible. And the people of Thedas are really busy fucking things up for themselves. Clearly, it would be much better if the Inquisition took over ruler ship of Orlais. And of course fixed the incompetent leadership in the cities of the Free Marches. She would be playing the ‘benevolent dictator’ card - and not think of her actions as evil. This does feel like a little push from her canon personality, but everything is always a sliding scale. She knows she can’t force people to do what she says. (I also have a completely dark!AU version, I think certain events could cause her to stop caring about others, which is scary, since she is damn capable). 

and now I have rambled enough, ah, thank for indulging me! I have a lot thoughts about Iwyn, and different ways her personality could tilt a little, of course she is my main OC and the one I have thought the most about. 

Ask me OC Asks!

[lunamanar]

Another random question: Do you think Rinoa and Cloud would get along?

(OR: In which I write a three-page disclaimer and spend half as much time actually answering the question.)

So this question caught me by surprise, and I had to take some time to think about it. Because a lot of SquarEnix main protags get pegged as being same-y, not just facially but in their general dispositions, and “The Weather Team” of 7-8-13 fame in particular is often held up as a prime example of this. Quiet, surface-level misanthropy covering up a mountain of sensitivities is admittedly a tired teenage/early 20s trope, and especially when it comes to Cloud and Squall, I think it’s easy to paint their personalities in broad strokes, and assume they’re basically all the same person with just enough details altered to pretend they’re different. 

But I really don’t think that’s a fair assessment, and in order to answer a question like this I felt I had to really get into why it’s not. So, sorry for the delay in answering, because I had to take some time to organize my thoughts about it. 

OK, so, story/ramble time: 

Part of my need for that time is that, while I really like FFVII, it’s far from my favorite Final Fantasy. FFV and FFVI vie for the number 2 slot, FFXIII and XIII-2 as a unit occupy number 4, and FF Type-0 number 5…FFVII is a somewhat distant 6 or 7, depending on my mood switching out with FFX. I think that when I take FFVII on its own terms, I like it better than most other FFs, but all the additions–Crisis Core, Before Crisis, Advent Children, Dirge of Cerberus, even Kingdom Hearts if you count that–have kind of muddied my appreciation for the original. So VII and its characters, as a whole, are a very complicated box of other self-contained boxes that my brain interprets differently depending on whether I take them as their own standalone set of stuff or consider them as part of a larger whole. 

I admit to a bit of pearl-clutching in this regard; when FFVII came out, I was dazzled by it. I loved the post-apocalyptic vibe of Midgar, and the empty, lonely feeling of the low-poly overworld. I think my enjoyment of that world was actually helped by the sheer lack of knowledge I had about it. At the time I first played it, I knew nothing about its conception or what had been lost in translation. I knew nothing about the Japanese fandom, the huge shifts that were happening within then-Squaresoft as a company, or the reject-characters (Edea, Fujin, Raijin, and Irvine) who would one day star in FFVIII and what their role would have originally been in FFVII (Edea had something to do with JENOVA, Fujin and Raijin were going to be Turks, and Irvine was replaced by Vincent). I had no idea that literally half of FFVII’s story was missing from the game itself, and that half again that amount would later be added and ret-conned into the original. 

And frankly, when all that started to happen…I didn’t like it. I lost interest for quite a while. By that time, I already had FFVIII, and I didn’t really care to sink time and money into a game world whose story, and that of its characters, had already been told as far as I was concerned. I didn’t actually revisit VII at all until circa 2013, when a friend of mine convinced me to start writing FFVIII fiction again. She was a big Crisis Core fan who loved Genesis, and she really pulled me back into VII as an entity just because of her enthusiasm about it. 

So it’s kinda funny because I really only started exploring FFVII’s “extended universe” with any real vigor at the same time I was re-immersing myself in FFVIII’s comparatively cohesive lore (which is an…odd, way to describe FFVIII, to say the least, but by comparison, it’s true). 

All of this is to illustrate that, simply, I am not the most qualified analyst of FFVII-anything, including Cloud, his personally, who he is and how he acts. There are many more intelligent people who have spent far more time and effort picking apart his character, who know more about him than I do and can render a more complete picture of his motivations and likely reactions and interactions with various personalities. My Final Fantasy “home” is FFVIII, and that is the only game (with the possible exception of FFV) that I feel comfortable enough in my knowledge to form complete and detailed opinions about re: any given character. It’s much more likely that my understanding of characters outside of that universe, especially a character with as much backstory as Cloud Strife, is going to be missing a lot of potentially pertinent details and considerations that I would ideally have at my disposal, and I think it’s important to acknowledge that before I answer, if only because there are so many fans out there who feel very passionately about FFVII and everything to do with it. So, I am in no uncertain terms saying it: I am not a Cloud Strife expert and I may at some point make an assumption about him in this answer that is contradicted entirely by canon evidence that happened to escape me at the time of writing. 

I’m basically winging it. I’m going off my personal impressions of his character, some of which are 20 years old at this point, plus a little bit of fact-checking I did before posting this. So to my knowledge, no individual facts I’m referencing here are incorrect, but it’s possible some of the conclusions I draw may be inaccurate because I missed some information somewhere due to not being 100% invested in the vast, complex and in some cases contradictory plot that is FFVII. For that I apologize ahead of time. 

(This is, actually, the single reason why I have never written any kind of crossover fiction. To do so and feel good about it, I’d have to be equally invested in each and every universe involved. The three games I feel comfortable enough with in my knowledge to actually write for are FFVIII, Secret of Mana, and the R-TYPE series. Uh. Those aren’t exactly the best candidates for overlapping themes/universes, so…)

*breathes*ANYWAY. Okay so I’m going to actually answer your question. And it’s going to be short by comparison. Sorry about that. 

The way I understand Cloud, and the reason I felt the need to preface this with all that mess, is that the answer is “yes, sort of, eventually.” But with caveats. 

Rinoa is the sort of person to wear her heart on her sleeve, unashamedly. And she actively advocates just that: that emotions are part of who a person is and not something to feel shame over, and expressing them is as much an act of integrity as it is courageous (that’s why, assuming you make certain dialogue choices, she may accuse Squall of being ‘dishonest’ at certain points). I think, assuming Cloud treated her with his oft-wordless, minimalist’s-guide-to-introvert-socialization front right off the bat, she would initially find him to be frustrating and–where Squall emoted at least enough to indicate he had an emotional reaction that contradicted his attitude–Cloud’s more practiced cynicism and “why speak if you can just stare or shrug” philosophy would be a lot less cute to Rinoa. Where Squall deflects with whatevers and various degrees of you’re-doing-it-wrong, which at least indicate discomfort and a degree of genuine interest, Cloud’s unmitigated I-don’t-cares and when-do-I-get-paids would be likely to come off as genuinely dismissive, rather than defensive. This would make her less curious, and in turn less tolerant of Cloud’s apparent misanthropy. 

(Though I start with these comparisons for the sake of illustrating Rinoa’s way of filtering information, I don’t think her impression of Cloud is a question of comparing him to Squall; this would all hold true whether she knew Squall already or not.)

So I think, at first, Rinoa wouldn’t really like Cloud that much, and at least for a while, he wouldn’t give her a lot of reasons to think she was wrong about her first impressions of him as arrogant, cynical and maybe even a little greedy. Basically she’d echo a lot of what Barret had to say about him, but with a lot less swearing. 

And I think, actually, Barret is a good comparison, because it would take about as long for Rinoa to think much differently of Cloud. Not to wander too far into the land of the hypothetical, but a few dizzy spells and flashbacks in, she’d probably clue in that something wasn’t quite as it seemed with him. The more opportunities Cloud has to abandon the group, and doesn’t, the more she’d begin to suspect, and she wouldn’t be quiet about those suspicions; either Cloud has an ulterior motive, or he’s not as callous as he seems. Either possibility is exactly the sort of thing Rinoa would pick at until it bled, for good or ill. 

Without knowing more about the scenario (if there is one), I can’t really say how Rinoa, as I know her, would ultimately stand with Cloud--as a friend, an enemy, or somewhere in between--but I think the more she knows about him, the more she would think he’s actually a pretty okay person with a ton of problems oh my goodness, even if it really seemed at first like he was just an immature jerk. The fog of war is especially thick with Cloud (appropriately, no?), but given time, I think Rinoa would find her way through it. Perhaps, however, not without doing some damage, in the process. 

[reidmemymo]

Not A Date (Part 2)

Perdóname but this is lowkey long, hope ju liek et :) Part 3 is written and ready, out of fear that it’d be too long already I made the smut happen in part 4 so buckle up, stay tuned, take off your shoes and stay a while fam

—

Upon arrival to y/n’s apartment, she didn’t know what to do as her mind swarmed over the thought of her going out with Spencer tonight. She naturally did what she always did when she couldn’t think straight, she cleaned.

Mid-dish washing she had gotten a call from Spencer and they agreed on a time to meet and where to meet. Under pressure on the two hours she had to get ready, she cleaned some more, took a quick shower, struggled to pick an outfit then headed out once it was time. Now as she exited the cab that stopped in front of the theater, she hoped her outfit wasn’t too casual nor too fancy. Against her own wishes after all, this was not a date.

Her worries subsided as she heard the cab drive off behind her, her eyes landed on Spencer standing by the entrance. Of course, charmingly leaned on the wall and looking down while he read one of his books.

“Spence!” She called and the boy wonder’s head snapped up from the pages of a handwriting profiling book. His face lit up at the sight of her and hers did as well when she noticed the scarf around his neck since she too wore an orange scarf for the occasion.

“Hey, y/n, haven’t seen you in a while,” he joked with a soft chuckle as she wrapped her arms around his neck lovingly, making him cautiously snake his around her waist. He smile dropped once he felt her lips touch his cheek and his brows instinctively shot up as she pulled back.

“Looks like we’ve got about twenty minutes to kill until the movie starts! You got the tickets?” He nodded and retrieved the strip of tickets and handed her hers after tearing it off of his.

“Thank you, sir. Nice scarf, by the way.” He smiled at her comment.

“You look great, you pulled it off better than I could. Did you… want to go in now or-”

“How about we take a walk? Walk and talk then run back when it’s time, yeah?” He looked down at her face, the smile she wore and the excitement in her voice compelled him to say yes. Yet he knew in his mind that they’d be stuck with front row seats when they got back, his mind also raised in alert and even more nervousness flooded him at the thought of walking with her to talk. Spencer was never prominent in the area of conversation, so what in the world would they talk about?? But how could he say no…

“Yeah, let’s walk, y/n.” He said with a charming smile that made hers grow bigger, and so they laughed while they turned away from the theater to walk down the moonlit pavement. After three minutes of comfortable silence as they walked and shared a few small comments about their surroundings, y/n asked him the question she wondered about since they were at work.

“Hey, how come you weren’t going to come after Penelope flaked? You didn’t consider going alone?” She asked him, then she noticed his mouth do its quirk again and she knew this would be a sensitive subject. He sighed and prepared for a more sad turn in conversation.

“I did, of course, I love Halloween. I’d love to do that but I do everything alone. It’s particularly difficult to enjoy the film when I’m sitting there alone with no one to turn to if I want to comment about the movie or share a snack with or laugh with like everyone else in there. It’s typical for people to go to the movies in a pair or with a group but I’d just… be there.” He confessed while his his eyes remained parallel to the sidewalk, glued to the alternating steps of his Oxford shoes. Her face softened and she swore her heart broke a little.

“Well… what about when the whole team goes out? You aren’t alone then, are you?” She inquired gently, watching his gaze stubbornly lock to the ground instead of looking back.

“Y/n, have you taken a look at me lately? Yes, the team goes out in a group and we have some fun but more often than I’d like, the locations we go to are clubs or bars. For a person like me, that is not my scene. Especially not when Morgan and Penelope team up in hopes of either getting me drunk or getting me to talk to some girl I know nothing about.” He argued, his brows coming together in the frustration that built up with every word. She felt sorry for him, yet she shrugged the feeling off knowing that isn’t what he needed. What he needs is encouragement, a confidence builder.

“Yeah, they’re both trouble, I’m sorry. Do you ever offer the others to hang out?”

“Yes well, I try to. They either pass or take a rain check and I never hear about it again.” He spoke as his voice diminished almost to a whisper.

“You know it’s not because they don’t love you or don’t like you as a person, right?” He stayed quiet, but the profiler in her could see through his micro expressions that told her that’s exactly what he thinks.

“You’re interests just don’t correlate with theirs. I’m almost sure if you offered to do something they are more likely to enjoy or know about, they’d agree to it. I know how they treat you, I’ve seen it all in my four months on this team. Trust me when I say that they love you and they think you’re amazing. Just your type of amazing isn’t something people see everyday, it scares them.” She felt relieved a bit when he looked back, listening to her words. A small smile turning his lips.

“Emily once told me you offered her to go see Solaris, Reid, which is five hours of sitting. Of course since it’s in your interest, you are willing to sit through it. For anyone else, they see it as five hours of sitting and being lost. Don’t ever think that they don’t like you because they won’t hang out with you.” He nodded slowly, intently noting what she said which he found to make a lot of sense.

“Thanks, y/n… for saying that.” He said to her. She smiled weakly.

“Tell you what, if there’s something you want to do, ask me. I might or might not decline depending on what it is or for other reasons. If it’s something you seriously want to go to, I’ll come with you.” She told him sweetly, smiling back at him. He couldn’t stop from flashing a smile too.

“Are you sure?”

“Of course! Why wouldn’t anyone want to hang out with an intelligent, multitalented, handsome man like you?” He paused once he heard the ‘handsome’ comment, yet his mind quickly answered her question.

“Cause I’m weird.”

“Okay, how?” She asked with skepticism.

“I can’t engage in normal or deep conversations, I lack knowledge of social cues and norms, Im awkward, and I spew facts as if my life depends on it. I ramble as well; therefore, I am weird.” He spoke rapidly, eager to prove his point that she didn’t seem to grasp for some reason.

“Reid, no. That’s just who you are and there’s nothing wrong with it. Plus if anyone here is weird, it’s me.”

“Not true.”

“Is to, ask my mom or my best friend or my brother. They will all tell you the same thing; I’m a know-it-all.”

“You? A know-it-all?” He asked, cocking a brow with a small smile.

“The worst! And I know, I don’t compare to fantastic Dr. Reid but it annoys the crap out of my family. Plus weirdly enough, I like memorizing lists. You know I’ve memorized the whole list of neurological disorders?” Spencer’s mouth hung open, his brows raised.

“Y/n, that’s a list from A to W with one to multiple disorders within each letter… and you don’t have an eidetic memory either.”

“A to Z actually, as of last year, but yes. No eidetic memory. Isn’t that weird?”

“No it isn’t, that’s amazing.” He complimented, their eyes locking on each other. She looked back at his hazel eyes she loved so much and made a decision on how to build some of his confidence.

“Reid, I’m going to tell you something that I don’t want to tell you and I’m upset about it but I feel like you’d need to hear it.” She watched him turn confused and cautiously they came to a stop.

“Okay…” She heard him trail off as she sucked in a deep breath and released it.

“I’ve had a big crush building up for you since my first day.” Silence followed her words, Spencer’s brows wiggled as they rose then came together. A crush? No way, he thought. Yet thought it over some more, it made sense. They’re both profilers. Of course they both sensed at times that they had a bond different from the others. Spencer recalled the way she would look at him when he’d be revealing a fact to the team on a case, it made a lot of sense. Also she would always be subtly defensive of him whenever others shut him down from sharing statistics or when they would pick on him. In the mornings she would routinely yet genuinely ask him about his day or his morning or his weekend. Could this be true?

"So you asked me out while you supposedly have a uh… c-crush on me? You made this a date… that’s against Hotch’s demands.”

“No, no, not a date. Just a very anticipated outing with a coworker of mine.”

“Who you happen to like?” He asked, a smirk forming on his face.

“Correction, who I happen to like a whole lot. And listen, if I can manage to become attracted to you even with your so called ‘weird’ qualities, what does that tell you?” She asked him and he thought hard until he met her eyes again.

“It tells me you’re very weird.” He answered, the both of them breaking into joyous laughter. After a moment they recovered, left smiling at one another. Until Spencer looked down at his watch.

“We should head back now, y/n.” He said in a low voice, not wanting their walk to end. She nodded with a grin.

“Let’s go, pretty boy.” Spencer laughed and made not one hesitant move as she linked an arm with his. Her body close to his as they made their silent pursuit back to the theater.

[sun-moonflowers]

Decluttering thoughts

I’m not too sure where exactly to begin writing this because my thoughts have been extremely crowded recently. I attempted to clear this up, perhaps unsuccessfully, in terms of finding some resolution or peace with myself. Writing has not proved itself to appease, however unrelentingly I have scribbled in the past few days about worries both real and petty. To first account for my decision of putting this up here instead of my proxy for the few reasons being this is primarily text and the latter does not serve this purpose in its primary function; it also takes the formality out of the context that i wish to preserve; neither do I have to consider the relevance or ill-relevance of an image to match this murk for whichever image I choose will either be unequable in what I am trying to convey. In part, I owe this slightly pretentious formality to what I have been reading — it is fascinating to consider how what we read affects our manner of speech so readily, how we are such malleable creatures — most of which are academic, some incoherent and others dense but illuminating, all of which in their certain positives have momentarily assumed my speech as so. I have marked my prose with sub-headers, if you wish to skip the parts that less interest you, do feel free. 

An indefinite break from social media

I have a couple of thoughts lately, which I refer to as contemplations because they involve an action or call to action which I am pondering over its necessity and consequence. Among it includes the consideration to do away with my proxy platform. This in part is due to a larger desire to distance myself from social media and go offline for an extended period — by this I mean an indefinite hiatus. Lately it has occurred to me that this pressure of visibility is unwarranted and unnecessary, even distracting to making good art or good work. It is something I could do without because neither my life nor my income depends on it (though I have no income to speak of currently.) If I am finding nothing meaningful in whatever I post and all these actions are in fact mere gestures, self-aggrandising and therefore possessing the power to do otherwise, should it not be without a question to do without so as to do better? Another of which stems from the inadequacy of the platform in presenting thought and coherence as I would like it. Owing to my obsessive natures in this respect, it is frustrating to deal with it all the time. So for those of you who read this will know then, that if my silence has become obvious, it is not without reason. I would then request for you to write to me instead, if you so wish to know how I am. Letters are most welcome, but the instantaneous messages over mobile devices will not be shunned either. This distance is aimed at breaking the attachments formed between my sense of self, time and occupation with the entrapment of social media and its dangers, folly, excessive — not friendships.  

Academic woes: a headache basically

A rut that I have been within in the past couple of days has been with regards to my next essay. This predicament can be attributed to a few things that form my incoherence and hence no sense of direction in which to take for this essay. To provide context, I am researching on Orientalism in the 19th century. My initial idea was to compare and contrast ballet repertoires choreographed during the late 19th century to early 20th century, and their representation of the Orient/ Exotic/ Other through the female body. Ideally, this would create many opportunities for discussion: fear projected in terms of imperialism, or perhaps classism thereby leading to ornamentalism rather than Said’s Orientalism; the male gaze and the female nude as prevailing practices and the Orient is a means of perpetuating that rather than representing anything; using Freud’s analysis on dreams and the erotic to explore if perhaps the sexualisation and sensualisation of the exotic is a deeper desire concealed by the Europeans than necessarily a means of subjugating the Other, for the Other is perhaps merely a means in which to distance such desires from themselves as they would hope to preserve as pristine, godly, restrained. 

But, not everything goes as we intend it to be. There is a sore lack of research on Orientalism in ballet, and a greater cavity in the archival footages of ballet in the past. In part, photography was only gaining momentum in its infancy and the acclaimed  Diaghilev also made sure that no recording of his choreography was permitted. That poses the question: how do you write about ballet if you have yet to see it live for yourself, even if through a screen? I can only read about it, and as with all secondary accounts, they might not be entirely factual; and as with all theatrics, there is a habit of exaggeration in play that I expect no less of an extravagance like ballet. So right now I am left with the ballet-russes of the 20th century, not 19th century — and only one was extensively publicised and studied over (that being Schehezerade, inspired by the Arabian Nights), and perhaps Salome, but that is a biblical tale, not exactly about the Eastern culture at all. I ever thought of doing a cross study of ballet, painting and perhaps poetry or literature, but none quite inspires as much as my initial imperative. 

A part of me also wishes to make study the psychological/ social use of the East to represent sensuality and sexuality during that time. Perhaps as time continues to pass, I will not have the liberty to be choosy about this. Having written all these down, I surprisingly might find a way around this. I shall first delve into the possibility of the latter as my directive and see if there are possibilities for such. It feels like such a huge task because there is so little written about it, which might be an optimistic thing, in terms of originality, yet it also places such immense pressure on validating the arguments. It could go right with this, or very very wrong. I have rambled too much about my homework, which I would assume, not even make much sense to anyone other than myself. But all this is cathartic in a way. Now moving on —

The New Year and Turning 21

It is the doubling of the new year and turning a year older that always somehow leaves me more troubled and reclusive during this period than one would perhaps expect of in the festivity of the new year. This year has proven more weighing than the others, and if you may ask what turning 21 feels like, I think I have an answer compared to any one who thinks there’s not much change. It is only those still amid transitionary states do they feel most deeply what the ‘coming-of-age’ truly entails. Most days I am rattled by the worries of finances, and the ability to manage it properly and more than just adequately. I admit that I have ridiculous savings plans that require me to eat myself but I am confident that they are not impossible. This ridiculous savings plan is a method of future planning because this will be my funding after I graduate and anticipate the few months that I need to fight very crazily hard to stay here. It is almost sickening to think that if I save half of my allowance every month, I would have only saved a year of my tuition fees by the time I graduate. But it also reveals to me how hard I need to make my education worthwhile and my time here more worthwhile than anyone else. I also loathe the financially-conscious me who has to opt out of everything because it just isn’t within my priority nor means to do so. If you read this, I am not asking for sympathies or what not, maybe just the courtesy of not talking about it because it is already on my mind 24/7 and I just don’t want to talk about it further. 

Money is a very real and disgusting problem, but we cannot do away with it, that would require an upheaval of entire economies and world that we have long set in stone for ourselves to relinquish. So as always this still stands: to beat the system is to excel in it, and gain the freedom in which it will allow you the options to stay away from it. I spent New Year’s Eve and countdown vacuuming the house and changing my sheets, making my house clean after two weeks of holiday. It’s the reality that a celebration is momentary and there are more important things to see to — the celebration can perhaps wait until you are in the mood for it. While everyone is planning some big party and joyous thing, I’m just thinking if I should catch that movie cause it would cause money; if I should go for tea as a treat to myself but that would also cost unnecessarily which I can instead use for classes or something else; staying at home alone would seem too sad and sorry; maybe I should take my film camera out for the afternoon and explore London instead. (But I am looking forward to dinner with Lynn that evening.) 

Yesterday, I wrote a list of goals for the year: things I wish to accomplish in this year. It is encouraging and motivating to have that list up on my desk wall. Let’s hope I do stick to realising them. And perhaps I should even do away with using the word ‘hope’ excessively, because it only provides excuses and consolation for when I do not actually accomplish anything. To also reduce the dependency on these words: ‘just’, ‘maybe’, ‘hope’. 

Unemployment; recruitment is a pain

Currently still unemployed. It is disheartening when you can’t even get a temporary job under your school because it’s by a first come first serve basis — and though you think you would be the first when you reply to the email immediately, you’re just that few letters short of time. How shameless can one also get? Or which desperation drives us into. I applied for the same job which rejected my application last October because I really really want to work there. There is no reply and I only think of the worst lately. Next week, I tell myself to grit my teeth and go to a few places to ask if they have any part-time vacancies. I am crossing my fingers I get some good news with that. If I have this job, then I wouldn’t have to worry so much about finances. I also tell myself it is only 4 months since I’ve moved here and I need to give London some time, so time I will take. But recruitment, you really are a pain. 

My thoughts have presently escaped me and I shall pause here till they return, should they ever. School reopens tomorrow and many things await but taking a step at a time. Adulthood is terrifying and burdensome and whoever thought of this vicious cycle is a maniac. (We are worse, for buying into it and living it.)

[amaintainedrisk]

feeling like a little kid

I am desperately looking and have been lucky in the last two days for a psychiatrist or counselor who would be willing to do a session or sessions on the phone or face time or Skype or something. I need help so badly. Yesterday was horrible. The abuse turned physical and I knew that was coming. My mother was throwing things at me and I couldn't see the duck out of the Way. i'll because she was mad because I asked her to make a few phone calls because my phone is broke. It's a long story but I wrote a whole huge fucking entry last night because I finally got it on tape… I was able to use the recorder on my iPad to record my mother hitting me with the phone and screaming at me and coming at me. I got her on tape telling me I'm worthless and I have her on tape hearing me get hurt and she sitting there laughing and telling me I deserved that. I can't do this anymore. I want to use this recording to help me but I need a psychiatrist or a counselor first. I have two social workers but neither fucking one helps me. My state social worker for Social Security won't even return my calls. So they aren't an option for help and I can't go anywhere because my mother won't take me. my medicine is due Saturday and I need to find a pharmacy before then because the one I'm currently using doesn't have my Brand of meds anymore. They only have the brand I'm allergic to so I need a new pharmacy and my mother won't help me find one. That's why I got hit with the phone; I asked her to call the pharmacy for me. Now I might not even get my medicine even if I found one. I finally have her on tapering me physically. I need to get out of here but I don't know where to go. I'm trying so hard to find somewhere online in my area who can help me but my iPad and Siri just won't fucking read a goddamn thing to me and I'm so tired. I don't even leave my room anymore out of fear. Ever since I found out I had less than two years left it's been so, so much worse. i'm going to post that recording on my Tumblr, but honestly I'm hesitant because I don't want someone to hear it and call the cops. Because if they do then I will get put in a group home or a homeless shelter and that might be even worse. Group homes in my area have no less than five people and its people with severe mental problems to keep going off their meds, and also criminals. That scares the hell out of me. I don't want to be taken out of my house away from my abusive mother just to be put in a place where I'm going to get raped, or abused even worse. That's how bad the typos. I just want out of here and I'm so trapped. Does anyone know counseling service online I could get help from? I'm at a complete loss and I have no one to help me and ever since I lost my phone, it's gotten so much worse because now my mother knows she really has me dependent on her and she is controlling the fuck out of me with it. All I have is my iPad. If you know of any services can you just email it to me please at danilapierre321@gmail.com please do not drop everything or go out of your way to look for these things. I'm just asking if you know of anything that you may have heard of from browsing the Internet or maybe a TV commercial or something like that. I don't want you going out of your way and wasting time looking for these things when you have your own hectic lives and everything. I was just wondering if maybe you knew of any resources given to you by your doctors or psychiatrist/counselor's. everything. I was just wondering if maybe you knew of any resources given to you by your doctors or psychiatrist/counselors. if not, it's OK. I'll find something eventually, it's just hard because my phone is broke and it won't read out things I find on Google but I will eventually find something. I'm just tired and rambling out of frustration and feeling trapped. Please don't hesitate to text me. I miss you so much. you guys are all I think about anymore to help me get through the day and even though my phone is broke I'm hoping I can at least get your text messages through. Just hearing my phone alert makes me feel safe and loved even if I can't read the text. But maybe I can copy paste your text and forward it to my iPad and the iPad will write it out to me? I don't know. It's worth a shot. I just miss you so much. i'm sorry for not updating for so long but you can see why. Anytime I update, it's just depressing and whiny and it makes me feel bad and even more like a burden. and it makes me feel like I'm not contributing anything to whatever friendship I have left with anyone. I'm so sorry for not being the person I used to be anymore. I miss that person, too. i'm so sorry to ask anyone for this and for help when I know for a fact I'm not the only one suffering. i'm so embarrassed. I think I'll upload that video tomorrow of my mother screaming at me and attacking me. I'm just too scared to upload it tonight for the reasons above. ugh. I'm so tired…