#i really really hope that she gets tenure

[thatsmzbitchtoyou]

My Alpha

This is kind of a long one shot (5619 words!), but I thought I'd try my hand at the ABO!/Omegaverse. Hope you like it!

Being an omega wasn’t always a bad thing.  At least that’s what she told herself repeatedly as she religiously took hormone blocking birth control pills and wore scent blockers on the daily.  Y/N hadn’t had a heat in years and wasn’t planning on letting up any time soon.  She had started working as a personal assistant for the Avengers under Tony Stark years before, going through the Sokovia Accords debacle, surviving the Blip, losing Natasha, Tony, Steve, T'Challa, and all the other strange and traumatic things that happened during her tenure.  She had denied her biology to get this job, not wanting it to affect her performance or be a target while being surrounded by literal super Alphas in this field.  And as hard as the job was, she loved it.

One of the greatest highlights was gaining Bucky Barnes as a friend.  While other Alphas she had come across were domineering, he was compassionate and kind.  He very rarely lost his composure like others did during high pressure situations in missions, and never fought over who was in charge.  He was incredibly careful to make sure everyone around him felt comfortable in his presence.  After finally shaking the Winter Soldier programming he didn’t want to ever lose control of himself again, and with the super soldier serum messing with his hormones to the extent that he was nearly feral during ruts, he would isolate himself away to keep her and others safe.  

Y/N felt like she could talk to him about anything, and he felt the same.  She was his sanctuary after rough missions, one of the few people that could break him out of a deep depressive state or the nightmares that still plagued him.  He knew she was an Omega but could barely smell her because of her blockers, which he both loved and hated.  Loved because it made it so they could be friends without the weird biological dynamics getting in the way, and hated because he was super curious about what her scent was.  They had fallen for each other long ago, but were both too afraid to do anything about it.

As they both relaxed during a rare weekend off they got on the topic of Omega versus Alpha traits.  “I get it, Alphas can be rough, but don’t you want to mate someday?  Find someone special to settle down with?  Maybe have a family?”

She sighed.  “Of course I do, Buck.”

“Then what are you afraid of?” he asked gently.

“Not having a clear choice,” she answered simply, giving him a sharp look.  “I don’t want my biology to decide my fate.  So many Omegas get stuck being mated with bad Alphas because their heats were uncontrollable and the Alpha wouldn’t take no for an answer.  I know that I’m predestined to be a nurturer.  Hell, that’s what my job is now, taking care of all of you guys!  But I should get to choose who I end up with based on love, not by body’s reactions.” Bucky nodded in understanding, looking down at his intertwined hands.  “Do you want to settle down someday?”

“Yeah,” he said quietly.  “I just don’t know how it would work out.  This job…my past.  It all points towards disaster at any given time.”

She slid over to him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders awkwardly as she sat next to him.  “You deserve a happy ever after, Bucky.”

“You do, too, you know,” he reminded her, resting his head on top of hers.

“Mmh, maybe someday,” she said wistfully as she undid her embrace and leaned back against the couch.

“So, anyways,” he cleared his throat.  “Is it true that Omegas have a better sense of smell than Alphas or Betas?  Like you can pick up on others’ scents and identify them really well?”

She laughed.  “Yes, it’s true.”

“Really?  Okay, what does…” he scanned the room as other Avengers milled in and out.  “Peter.  What does Spidey smell like?” He tested her, watching her expectantly.

She took a look at Peter across the room, her nose slightly flaring as she took in a whiff from his direction.  “He always smells like fresh bagels to me.  You know the smell of just-baked bread?  Kinda like that.  Mixed with a little bit of hazelnut.”

Bucky looked at her in awe.  “Yeah I kinda get that off of him.  Alphas can smell and track scents but not to that level.”

“Hm, that’s interesting,” she said as her eyebrows furrowed.  

“Now how about Sam?” he asked excitedly, hoping it would be something not so pleasant he could tease him about.

“Ha, Sam is Cajun seasoning with a sweet lemony undertone.  Like really well done seafood,” she answered quickly with a smile on her face, knowing Bucky would be disappointed in that answer.

Bucky frowned as he thought about who to ask of next.  “Okay, how about…Steve?” He knew it was a long shot.  Steve had been gone for a few years now, so she probably wouldn’t remember.  But she gave him a soft smile.

“Steve was smoky, like fireworks.  A summer night that ends with warm apple crisp and melting vanilla ice cream on top,” she said as she stared out the window, a dazed look in her eyes as she remembered him.

“Wow…” Bucky whispered.  “I always got the fireworks, and something like a picnic.  But now that you say it, yeah, apple with vanilla.”

“Yep, he was truly all American,” she winked at him.

He laughed as he turned towards her on the couch.  “How about, um…me?”

She gazed at him, her expression softening as her nose flared again and she huffed out the breath she’d taken.  “Smoky, like Steve, but different.”

“Like gunpowder?” he asked suddenly, his eyes searching hers.  He had been told that before and was hoping they were wrong.

“No, not gunpowder.  More like…” she sniffed again but frowned.  “Do you mind if I…?” she gestured her finger from herself to him.

“Yeah, go ahead,” he said, opening himself up for her to scoot closer to him.  She leaned in towards his neck, the best place to scent someone, and breathed in a slow sniff of him.  She closed her eyes.

“Campfire.  A campfire on the beach.  And the smell of the ocean after it rains,” she said resolutely, opening her eyes to look at him.  Their faces were close as he stared at her.  “But no, not gunpowder,” she reassured him.

“That’s good,” he breathed, his eyes shifting from her eyes down to her lips and back.

Her eyes suddenly widened, her brow furrowing and she pulled herself away quickly.  “I, um…I need to go…excuse me,” she said hurriedly before she jumped off the couch and power-walked down the hall towards her room.

“Wait, Y/N, are you okay?” Bucky stood from the couch as he watched her leave.

“Yeah!  I’ll talk to you later!” she yelled back without looking, her voice sounded strained.

“What the hell?” he asked himself quietly, looking around him like something had jumped out and spooked her.

Once she was out of sight she ran to her room and had Friday bolt the door.  She doubled over in pain and clutched her stomach.  “No way,” she moaned as she reached for her phone and called for help.

“Hey you, how are ya?” Bruce asked when he answered the call.

“Bruce,” her voice was pained as she held in another moan.  “I need help, something’s wrong.”

“What?  What’s going on?” he sounded worried, the rustling of papers and beeping from a screen by him going off.

“It feels…like a heat?  But that’s not possible, right?  We made sure of it,” she grunted as another cramp shot through her abdomen, and just as suddenly as it all started, it suddenly stopped, leaving her gasping.  “Wait, now it stopped?  What the hell is happening?”

“Come down to the lab, right now.  We’ll get you tested.”

She didn’t need to be told twice as she hung up and crept out of her room towards the elevator.  She was able to get in and down to the lab a few floors away without being caught by Bucky or anybody else.  She ran into the lab in a panic.  Bruce was already setting up the medical bay in the back with everything needed to do a check-up, some vials next to the other instruments.

“Hey, let’s take some blood and see what’s going on,” he called out to her when he heard the doors slide open.  She jogged to the bed and hopped up on it, taking off her cardigan so he could access the veins in her arm better.  After a quick routine check up he took a few vials of her blood then stepped out towards all the equipment he had for medical and scientific tests.  

He worked silently as she sat there deep in thought.  It can’t be, she tried to reassure herself.  I’ve been so careful.  Not missed a single pill ever.  This can’t be happening.  After about an hour Bruce came back with a screen in his hand, his eyebrows hung low over his eyes and a frown on his face.

“Y/N, it’s…it’s not working anymore,” he said softly, his eyes sad and confused as he looked at her.

“What do you mean?” she asked hesitantly, her eyes widening.

“The hormone blockers, the pills…your body isn’t responding to them anymore.  Your hormones are syncing back to normal Omega levels.  Your heats are going to come back.”

“No, no no no no no…NO Bruce!  I can’t.  Please, there’s gotta be another pill to try, a shot, an implant, something?  Anything, please?” she began to cry.  

“I’m sorry Y/N.  We already got you the best blockers that are available out there.  If your body is weaning off of them it means your biology is taking over, probably because you’re getting older and it’s fighting back to have a chance at mating.  I’m so sorry,” he showed her the hormone levels on a chart on the screen, pointing out the differences and then setting it down.  “There’s nothing I can do.  Nothing you can do but prepare yourself for it to start again.  And your first one is probably going to be brutal after avoiding them for so long.  You’ll need help–”

“NO!  No, I can’t do this.  I can’t ask some random Alpha for help.  This isn’t fair!” she cried harder, hiding her face in her hands.  Bruce patted her on the back, trying to help ease her pain by giving off a calming scent.  He was also an Omega and knew how much this meant to her.  

“It will be alright, Y/N.  You have friends here who will help you without making it awkward between you and them, or won’t immediately try mating with you during your heat.  They’re good Alphas.  They won’t hurt you or take advantage of you,” he promised.

She tried to calm the loud beating of her heart that was wringing in her ears, a panic attack trying to settle deep in her bones that she was fighting back.  “How long do I have until it comes?” she sighed as she sniffled.

“I don’t know, I’m sorry.  With it being so long since you last had one it could be next week or it could be in a couple of months,” he answered gravely.

“Ugh, great,” she laughed as she wiped her tears away.  “No choice, whatsoever.  My body ultimately got to decide for me after all.  Wonderful,” she spat as she jumped down off the bed.  “Thank you, Bruce, for testing.  I just…I need to go sleep this off, I don’t know,” she said, giving him a quick hug and then leaving the lab.  

She took the elevator back up to her floor, her eyes stinging from the hot tears still slowly falling down.  Her heat was coming back, and with a vengeance.  She would need help.  Who would she ask?  Any of the unmated superhero Alphas would probably say yes, though she knew she only wanted one.  But how could she ask this of him?  And if he did help, how could she go on with their friendship as if nothing had happened between them afterwards?

The elevator opened and she trudged into the common room.  The floor was already dark as twilight set in and everyone had split off to their rooms.  She slipped into the kitchen since she missed dinner while down in the lab to grab something to eat, although she wasn’t particularly hungry.  As she made herself a sandwich she turned to grab a knife then saw a figure in the corner at the dining table.

“Jesus!  Fuck, Bucky you scared me,” she gasped, holding a hand over her heart.

“Sorry, honey,” he grunted as he sat watching her.  “Why are you crying?”

She stiffened as she looked at him, trying to act nonchalant as she grabbed the knife and turned back to her sandwich.  “I’m not, I’m just tired,” she waved him off, quickly cutting the sandwich and putting the ingredients and dishes away to escape.

“Don’t lie to me Y/N.  What’s wrong?” he stood, walking towards her.  She reached for the refrigerator door to get a drink, which he quickly shut and stared her down.  She wouldn’t look him in the eye.

“Come on Buck, I just need a drink,” she complained as she tried to open the door again, reaching for the handle.  Bucky grabbed her wrist firmly and leaned in towards her.

“What’s wrong Y/N?  You ran away earlier and now you smell…off,” he said, searching her eyes as his nose flared at the scent she was radiating.  His frown deepened and his eyes looked worried.  “Why are you afraid?  Was it me?  Did I do something wrong?”

“No!  Oh no, Bucky, it’s not you,” she said, her eyes widening.  “It’s me, it’s just…” her eyes welled up with tears again, spilling onto her cheeks as she sucked in a sharp breath.  “It’s me,” she sobbed, leaning forward til her forehead rested against his chest.

“Oh honey,” Bucky sighed.  He put his hands under her armpits and lifted her onto the counter so she was eye level with him.  She wrapped her arms around his neck and hid her face in his shoulder, crying harder as he enveloped her, his hands rubbing up and down her back as he whispered reassuring words to her.  They sat holding each other for a while, Bucky letting her cry it out and Y/N relishing the comfort.  As her cries died down and her grip loosened around his neck he pulled back.

“Tell me what’s wrong, please?  You’re breaking an old man’s heart,” he pleaded, hating to see her hurting so much.

Y/N chuckled at him calling himself an old man as she wiped her nose with her sleeve.  Bucky held her face in his hands and wiped her tears away with his thumbs.  She let herself enjoy his touch before she sniffled and finally looked up at him.

“When I was talking to you earlier, I felt this weird pain,” she explained quietly.  Bucky nodded, listening intently as he held her face still.  “That’s why I ran out.  I went to Bruce’s lab to test me because it felt like…like a heat,” she sniffled again, looking down at her lap.  Bucky nodded again, his hands releasing her face and reaching for her hands to hold.  “I haven’t had one in years.”  This surprised him.  He knew there were new ways of birth control for Omegas now, giving them a lot more options than to just mate and reproduce and take care of their Alphas and pups like the old days, which he thought was great.  He just didn’t realize it could be for so long.  “And now, apparently, the hormone blockers aren’t working anymore,” she gripped his fingers tightly.  “My body is rejecting them, weaning off of them and reverting back to normal hormone levels.  My heat is coming,” she sucked in another sharp breath.  “I don’t know when, but he said it’s going to be brutal since I’ve been avoiding them for so long.  He said I’ll need help and…and I don’t know what to do.”  Her voice shook as she looked up at him again.  “I’m scared,” she whispered.

Bucky could feel her panic and gave off what he hoped was a calming scent.  It seemed to help as her eyes fluttered shut and her shoulders visibly relaxed.  The Alpha in him hummed in satisfaction as he swept his thumbs over her knuckles.  “You don’t need to be scared, Y/N.  It’s going to be okay,” he tried to placate her.  “Listen, I know earlier you said you wanted a choice, and now your body’s not giving you one.”  She nodded, a few more tears slipping out the sides of her eyes.  “I…I can help you,” he said, gulping back the lump in his throat.  Her eyes snapped up to him, a look of shock on her face.  “I know that I’m offering something kinda crazy.  But I promise you I won’t hurt you, I won’t make you court me if you don’t want to, and I won’t forcibly mate with you.”  He looked her deep in her eyes to try to get her to understand.  “But I’d be honored to help you.”

Y/N couldn’t quite believe what she was hearing.  She had wanted to ask him and now he was offering himself for her to get through this first heat.  She licked her lips and contemplated it.  “I just don’t want it to ruin our friendship,” she sniffed again, her eyes searching his face for hesitation.

“It won’t,” he said earnestly.  

“...Okay,” she agreed.  

Bucky smiled as he squeezed her fingers.  “Okay.”

“Thank you, Bucky.  You’re a good Alpha,” she thanked him, lifting his hands up and kissing his knuckles.

His eyes fluttered shut and he cleared his throat.  “You should probably not call me that, at least not right now.”

Her eyes widened.  “Oh!  God, I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean–”

“It’s okay, honey, it’s fine,” he chuckled.  “Whenever it hits you, just call me, and I’ll be there.”

She gave him a warm smile in appreciation.  They were playing with fire, and they both knew it deep down, but were denying it heavily.

***

Y/N could feel her hormones changing her body and mind.  Bruce had advised against wearing scent blockers as well to help her body fully adjust and hopefully not cause as much pain during her upcoming heat, and that was the first thing she noticed.  The Alphas around her, who would normally just give her a friendly greeting or a smile, now watched her hungrily through narrow eyes, giving tight smiles as their noses flared as she passed by.  It made her self-conscious enough to ask Bucky one day, “Do I smell bad?”

Bucky looked away from the book he was reading as she plopped next to him on the couch in the common room again, lifting her feet up to rest on his lap.  She was touching him a lot more lately.  “What do you mean?”

“Do I smell bad?  Omegas can’t really smell themselves very well, and since I took off the scent blockers I’ve been…watched,” she looked around the room warily.  Bucky’s eyes swept across the other Alphas in the room, noting how they were all giving off territorial scents as they tracked her.  He sat up straight, facing each one until they caught his eye and gave off a warning rumble deep in his chest, his eyes flashing dangerously.  They each quickly retreated, shamefully turning back towards their previous tasks.  The air around Y/N seemed to lift and she felt like she could breathe again.  “Thank you, Bucky.”

He sat back on the couch, grabbing his book with one hand and mindlessly rubbing her feet with the other.  “No need to thank me, honey.  And no, you don’t smell bad.  You smell like chai.”

“Chai?” Y/N scoffed.

“Yeah, chai with…” he reached a hand out and grabbed her wrist, bringing it up to his nose and inhaling deeply.  Her eyes widened comically at his brashness in scenting her so publicly.  “Pumpkin.  Chai and pumpkin.  Like Autumn,” he concluded, setting her wrist down and then rubbing her feet again.  He said it so casually that she just stared at him dumbfounded.  

It got worse as the weeks went on.  Her emotions were haywire, one minute she was calm and cool and the next she was agitated and easily crying at anything.  She was nesting anxiously, rearranging her room and her desk in her office, constantly carrying around a large fuzzy cardigan or blanket with her.  Her joints were sore, especially in her hips.  She found herself eating all the time.  Bruce had her come down to the lab each week to check her levels, each time warning her it could happen any day now.  

A month and a half later on a Friday night the team got together for a movie night.  They decided on watching the first Avatar, a movie Bucky hadn’t yet seen.  As it played Y/N kept fidgeting next to him, adjusting her sitting position, wringing her hands in her lap, taking deep breaths periodically.  A scene began of two of the characters connecting in a tree garden and Sam yelled out, “Alien tree sex!”  Everyone laughed but Y/N bolted out of the room.  Bucky watched her run down to her room and shut her door.

He quietly got up and followed her.  He could tell just by her scent changing these last few weeks and how it was getting stronger, the chai smell getting spicier, that her heat was fast approaching.  She had been very touchy with him, following him around and staying close whenever they were in the same room.  He had no claim to her, but it was evident to everyone to stay away from her, otherwise they’d get a growl from him.  He was growing more excited by the day, trying to remind himself that he was just helping out a friend, not staking any claim or bond.  

When he reached her door he pressed his ear against it, listening for her.  He heard her heart rate picking up and her breathing became labored.  He could also smell her, more potent, spicy, the scent of unmated Omega making his hormones sing and call out for her.  A deep rumble emitted from his chest as he felt his cock hardening.  He knocked on her door.

“Y/N,” he called out, just loud enough for her to hear.  A soft moan came from the other side.  His eyelids shut tight at the sound.  It was time.  “I’m coming in,” he warned before opening the door.  He stepped inside and was hit with the scent full force, making his eyes and mouth water simultaneously.  Y/N was laying in the nest she built on her bed in the fetal position, one hand on her stomach and the other in between her legs, not yet touching herself but keeping pressure against her core.  “Honey…” he groaned as he locked the door behind himself and walked towards the bed.

“Alpha,” she breathed, her brow furrowed and eyes shut tight.  A cramp wracked through her whole body and she yelped in pain.  “It’s starting.  It hurts…hurts so bad,” she cried as she could feel a small gush of slick pour from her pussy as her body recognized the Alpha in the room.

“It’s gonna be okay, honey, I’m here,” he cooed at her, reaching his hand out and running his fingers along her leg from her ankle to her thigh.  “Let’s get you out of these, huh?” he said while lifting the hem of her shorts up slightly.  She nodded and blindly started pulling at her clothes.  Bucky helped her strip out of her layers then undressed himself, giving her naked body an appreciative glance.  He lay behind her on the bed, cocooning her in his arms and leaning his head into the crook of her neck and scenting her.  He could feel himself getting drunk off of her heat.  She was sending him into an early rut as his hips rocked against her ass slowly.  Y/N keened at that, her back arching and pushing her ass into his crotch further.  He moaned at the sensation, his arms tightening around her.  “Shh, Omega.  I got you,” he said as his voice dropped further, the Alpha coming through more prominently now.

“Bucky…” she sighed, her hands gripping his arms around her.  “Please…Alpha please,” she begged, her legs shaking as another cramp hit her.

Bucky moaned at the sound of his name said that way coming from her lips.  He started to lick and suck and kiss at the scent gland on her throat, making her gasp loudly.  His scent mixed with hers, and they quickly got lost in each other.  His hands found her breasts and massaged them firmly, his fingers tweaking her nipples and making her hips buck back into him again.  He twisted her body around to face him.  She quickly molded herself back to him, hiking her leg up and over his hip, her hands scratching down his chest.  He tried to remind himself one last time that this was just a friend helping a friend.  Then she kissed him.

The kiss broke the dam of hesitancy he was holding to desperately.  He quickly responded, his mouth opening and their tongues tangling as they tasted each other.  Bucky climbed on top of her, his knees forcing hers apart.  His fingers probed her lower lips, finding her clit and giving it all his attention.  Y/N’s hips writhed as he riled her up.  She watched his fingers dip into her, making her breath stutter.  She was already dripping for him so he plunged two fingers into her, thrusting them in and out while his thumb rubbed and flicked her clit.  

“Fuck Alpha,” she groaned.  “Just like that, shit!”

Bucky smiled as she cursed, her legs shaking against his.  She reached down and took his cock in her hand, giving him lazy pumps as he got her closer to her release.  He huffed a sharp breath.  “Damn, honey, oooh that’s good,” he said lowly.  “Give it to me, love, come on, you can do it.  Be such a good Omega for me,” he encouraged her as he curled his fingers as deep as he could reach.  

The tension in her core finally snapped, her first orgasm ripping through her at lightning speed, squirting slick all over his hand and his hips.  She let out a guttural moan, the sound reverberating through the air, making the Alpha inside of him scream to claim her.  He had to physically restrain himself as he pulled his fingers out of her.  She smiled as she watched him with hooded eyes.  He put his wet fingers in his mouth and licked them clean of her slick, his eyes rolling back at the taste.

“Alpha please, I need you.  Bucky, I want your big cock inside me…please!” Y/N begged again.  Normally it would embarrass her to be acting like this, she would have never dreamed of speaking to Bucky this way.  But they were beyond the point of no return.

“Condom first, Omega,” he reminded her in his authoritative voice.  “As much as I’d love to fill you up, I don’t think that’s what you want just yet.”

Y/N pouted, but the first orgasm had helped clear her brain a little bit, and pointed to the nightstand next to the bed.  Bucky quickly reached over and pulled open the top drawer, finding the box and pulling a few of them out.  He unwrapped one and slipped it on himself before settling back between her legs, backing up a little bit.  “Present, please, Omega.”

Y/N twisted herself onto her stomach, lifting her hips high and pressing the side of her face into the bed.  Bucky almost whimpered at the sight of her sweet pussy, seeing the way he had made her drip with slick, the skin softly puckering in anticipation.  “Prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen Y/N, goddamn,” he whispered huskily.  She preened at his praise, her ass raising a little higher.  He gave her ass a quick slap, making her yelp and shiver.  “You ready?” he asked, making sure she was still wanting this.

“Yes, please Alpha, Bucky…please!”

“You’re so sexy when you beg,” he slapped her ass again, then grabbed her hips and aimed himself at her entrance.  He slowly pushed in the tip of his cock, the fat head catching just past her lower lips, making them both groan.  He kept pushing until he was fully seated inside her, letting her adjust to his size.  Y/N was keening again, a high pitched tone ringing through the air.  After a moment she wriggled her hips, silently asking him to thrust.  A deep growl emanated from Bucky’s throat and he pulled back until it was just the tip inside, then snapped his hips back into her hard. 

Y/N was making the sweetest noises he’d ever heard as he pummeled his cock into her.  She whimpered and moaned, making him hook an arm around her hips and lay his stomach across her back, quick huffs of his breath warming her shoulder.  He could feel her walls fluttering around him, making the rhythm of his hips stutter.  “Fuck, honey, you gonna cum?”  She nodded as her moans got louder.  He flipped her back over onto her back so he could watch her release, leaving barely any room between them as he hovered over her.  Her hands wound around the back of his neck, scratching his scalp with her nails.  “Goddammit, do that again,” he heard himself whimpering this time.  She scratched from the top of his head down to his neck and pulled him in for another kiss.

He reached between their bodies and started flicking her clit as he chased his own high.  “Bucky, oh my God,” she squealed against his lips as her back arched and her legs clung to his hips.  “Yes, yes, yes, shit…mark me.”

Bucky didn’t stop thrusting but tensed at her words.  “No, Y/N, you don’t want that.”

“Yes, I do, with you, Bucky,” she gasped.

“Omega,” he warned her, his eyes flashing.  “We can talk about that when I’m not balls deep inside you.”

Y/N tensed at his Alpha command, her legs loosening around him.  “I want you to be my Alpha, my mate.”

“God fucking dammit,” Bucky stopped thrusting and leaned on his elbows above her.  “Y/N, listen to me, you don’t want that.  You said you wanted a clear choice, remember?”  Y/N was silent and wide eyed as she watched him, slightly nodding her head.  “This isn’t a clear choice.  Your first heat in how many years?  It’s your hormones talking, honey.  And believe me, I’d love to mark you, claim you, bond and mate with you.  Stuff you full of me,” he thrust again, making her eyes roll back, “and breed you with my pups.  But we can talk about all that later.  Right now, I’m here to help you through this, because you’re my best friend, and…I’m ridiculously in love with you.”  He finally said it.  “I want to be yours, and I want you to be mine.  But when it’s both of us with clear heads and a clear choice.  Okay?”

Y/N’s eyes were watery as she listened to him.  “You’re in love with me?”

Bucky huffed a laugh, “Is that all you got out of that?”

She shook her head, “No, but it’s the most important thing.  I’m in love with you.”

He smiled wide and leaned down to give a quick kiss to her nose.  “Can I continue now?”

She nodded again, and he gave her another thrust to get her going again.  Her slick started to make squelching noises as he picked up the pace again, his knot starting to catch at her entrance, his hand reaching to her clit again and trailing kisses down her throat to her scent gland, licking and sucking at it again.

“One day, if you’ll have me, I’ll bite this pretty neck,” he moaned in her ear as her fingers dug into his back.  “Make you mine.”

“Yours, all yours, Bucky…Alpha,” Y/N groaned, leaning her head up and scenting him back.  Her soft lips and her tongue against his gland had his eyes rolling in his head again and his fingers gripping her hips harshly.  “That’s right.  Mine.  Mine…mine,” he thrusted harder and faster, angling her hips up to hit deeper.

Y/N screamed his name as she finally came, her hands digging into the flesh between his neck and shoulder, scratching his scent gland and making him see stars as he came with a yell, his knot fully inflating and latching him to her as she nearly squeezed the dear life out of him.  He fell on top of her, and she held him as he calmed down, both of them panting and sweaty.  

A heady scent filled the air, a smell that screamed satisfied mates.  Bucky pulled himself to his side, holding her close so it wouldn’t hurt her to move with him, and covered them with the blankets from her nest.  Y/N was delirious after this first round of her heat, her head lolling with exhaustion.  “Rest, Omega.  We’ve still got a few days, and forever after that.”

She smiled sleepily, “Hmmm, my Alpha.”

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x reader #smut #marvel #abo #alpha!bucky #alpha!bucky barnes #omega!reader #alpha!bucky barnes x omega!reader #bucky barnes oneshot

[roosterforme]

Covering the Classics Part 2 | Bob Floyd x OC

Summary: Anna knows her new coworkers want her to meet their friend Bob. But she's too hesitant, afraid to get herself in a situation where she's pining after someone new. During a spur of the moment shopping trip, Bob is delighted to bump into a woman he can only describe as adorable. Too bad he's never been great at the follow through.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, adult language, eventually 18+

Length: 3600 words

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Female OC (this story is part of the Beer Boy/Sugar and Jake/Jessica universe)

Covering the Classics masterlist. Check my masterlist for more! Thank you to @mak-32 for the beautiful banner!

By the end of her first week teaching, Anna had learned many things, almost like she was a student herself. That nice, secluded ladies' restroom she found was secluded because one of the toilets regularly overflowed. The coffee in the teacher's lounge was actually disgusting, but the donuts were available every day. And Dr. Pham from the sociology department asked her out three times on Thursday, apparently because she wore her hair in two braids like Princess Anna from Frozen, a mistake she wouldn't be making again.

And she was so tired. She started to lose her voice on Friday morning from how much she had to talk in her lectures. She took the wrong notes to class with her and had to improvise an hour long class on Emily Dickinson, because she was too afraid to give one of her students the keys to her office door. So she sweated it out, but managed to sound somewhat coherent as she dismissed her class at noon.

She pressed her lips together. If she ran to get her sandwich and peanuts really quickly, she could join her new friends by the weird tree. After two days of joining them for lunch, she really liked both of them. She just didn't want to get their hopes up about their friend Bob whom she was supposedly perfect for.

Anna wasn't perfect for anybody. And frankly this Bob guy sounded like a dreamboat, which just made it worse. He'd probably laugh after taking one look at her, and if she opened her mouth and tried to talk to him, he'd run away scared. She already turned down their invitation to go to the Navy hangout bar on Saturday night, citing that she was too exhausted. But it was really because she needed to stand firm with herself and do everything she could to protect her feelings from now on. 

After another few seconds of contemplation, she went to her office and got her lunch before heading to the quad. But today it was just Jessica there eating lasagna and garlic bread from a plastic container while Anna's stomach growled in jealousy. 

"Hi," she greeted after she chewed up a bite of her perfect looking lunch. "It's just us today. Dr. Rosenthal apparently had a bunch of questions about the math curriculum and took Advanced Calculus out for a long working lunch at Covewood."

Anna had barely been in the city for more than two weeks, but even she had heard of Covewood. "That's a five star restaurant. A romantic date night hot spot."

"Mmhmm," Jessica agreed as she sunk her perfect teeth into the garlic bread.

Anna realized her own experience was fueling her next sentences, but she said them anyway. "Isn't she married? Her husband is okay with that?" she asked softly.

Advanced Physics burst into laughter. "Bradley loves Dr. Rosenthal. He's in his seventies, and he's one of the sweetest people at the school. They have him over for dinner sometimes. He actually did my tenure review."

"Oh," Anna replied, embarrassed that she could hardly relate to someone who trusted their spouse. "That actually sounds really nice."

"Hey, are you sure you don't want to come out tomorrow night? No pressure. I just think you'd have a fun time. The guys are all sweethearts."

Anna looked down at herself and her sad sandwich. She didn't even have money to spare for a beer that she would probably drink half of before she wanted to leave. And it didn't matter if the guys were sweet, she knew her two new friends would be champing at the bit to see how she and this Bob person interacted. "Not this weekend," she replied. "Maybe another night."

Instead of socializing, she spent her Saturday window shopping in North Park. She had a budget of exactly zero dollars, but she could entertain herself for hours this way. She gasped when she found a two story bookshop that claimed it contained new and used and rare finds, and she ran across the street to get to it. 

It was darker and quieter inside than the sunlit, traffic filled streets, and when Anna took a deep breath, it reminded her of a cozy library. The clerk behind the register waved instead of speaking, so really, it just kept getting better. When she noticed the wooden sign on the wall informing her that The Classics were upstairs, she made her way up the creaky steps to a loft area with row after row of tall shelves. 

"Perfect," she muttered, walking to the end of the open space and turning down the last tight row of bookshelves. She wasn't alone, but the only other occupant was a tall, slim man with broad shoulders and tidy, sandy colored hair. He seemed to be so absorbed by what he was reading, he didn't look up when Anna reached for an enormous copy of Shakespeare plays.

She almost moaned out loud; it was annotated and contained every play she had to teach in her Thursday morning English 300 class. It was well worn, and the cover felt nice in her hands. Shit. Of course it was seventy bucks. That was more than she spent on groceries last week. Maybe she could expense it to the department? She should probably know how to do that. Maybe she could text one of her new friends and ask if that was allowed. 

But she slid the book back into place as a Vonnegut she didn't yet own caught her eye. She reached out for it with a steady hand, but as soon as her fingertips met the spine, a much larger hand, complete with graceful yet calloused fingers, wrapped around hers. Everything suddenly smelled clean like soap and also intriguingly like tea leaves. And then she heard a voice next to her ear that made her bite down on her lip as a ripple of pleasure teased her spine. 

"Oh. I'm so sorry."

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

Bob had never been to this store before, and he wasn't really planning on stopping by today, but Mickey dragged him in and then ditched him for the children's section at the back of the store. Bob looked around downstairs, but as a poetry fan, he found that section to be seriously lacking, so he headed up to the loft instead.

He considered himself well-read until he realized how many classic novels he'd never even heard of before. And they all sounded really depressing. Which was kind of the point, he supposed, but if he was going to get something new to read, he was in the mood for a more upbeat story. Maybe a romance or a European adventure he could get lost in. Maybe a sweeping, romantic tale where the nice guy gets the girl for once. 

After several tries, he still wasn't finding anything close to what he was hoping for. As he re-shevled The Bell Jar, he decided to just reach for a book at random. Cat's Cradle by Kurt Vonnegut? Maybe that would be more his speed. But when he reached for it, his fingers wrapped around a soft hand complete with glossy, burgundy fingernails instead of the actual book. He jumped an inch in the air, because he hadn't even been aware anyone else was in the aisle with him, let alone a woman who smelled like sweet perfume.

"Oh. I'm so sorry," he stammered, already mortified. Then she turned to look at him over her shoulder, and he wanted to jump off the loft railing and run out the shop door. There was only one word to accurately describe her: adorable. She had dark red hair done up in a messy braid, big brown eyes, and a smattering of freckles across her nose. "Oh."

"It's okay," she replied softly as she tried to hand him the book. "You can have it."

He shook his head, completely distracted, as he kept finding more things about her face that he liked. A grin curled along his lips as he said, "No, it's all yours. Really. I was just looking for something new to read."

She glanced down at the cover and then back at his face, and maybe he was imagining things, but it looked like she was blushing a bit. "Wow. I wasn't really expecting anyone else to be interested in reading a sarcastic take on global destruction on a sunny Saturday afternoon."

His eyebrows shot up. "Is that what it's about?"

Her laughter was also adorable. "Yeah, I mean... it's Vonnegut," she said with a bit of an eye roll. Oh no. She knew what she was talking about, and he kind of didn't. He was probably about to sound like an idiot. 

Bob cleared his throat and pointed at a random spine to buy himself time. "What's this one about?"

She cocked her head slightly to the side and said, "Two murders and a kidnapping."

"Oh," he said with a little laugh. "No thanks. How about this one?"

He wasn't even looking at the books now at all, preferring to watch her facial expression change as she checked another title. "Oh, that one's good. Also about murder."

He chuckled and pointed at another. "This one?"

She smirked and looked up at him. "Jealousy, rage, hatred, and also a lot of murder."

"Wow," Bob replied with what he was sure was a stupid looking smile. "I was hoping for something a little tamer? Perhaps less murder-y? Maybe I should go down and look in the children's section?" He jerked his thumb over his shoulder and listened to her laugh again.

"I could recommend a few books with little to no murder. Maybe even a happy ending," she told him, and he watched as she pushed her braid over her shoulder. 

"I'll believe it when I see it," he said as he crossed his arms over his chest. To his shock and amazement, her gaze followed his movement, and her blush returned.

When her tongue darted out between her lips, Bob could feel his heart beating in his temples. Her brown eyes drifted back up to his face, and he wondered if this was how Jake or Bradley used to feel when girls paid attention to them at the bar. It was decidedly really exciting. 

He was going to be bold like his friends. He was going to ask her for her number. Maybe he'd see if she wanted to help him shop for some books, and he could buy her that horrible Vonnegut that she wanted, and then he'd ask her very nicely for her number. 

"Floyd!"

Bob watched you jump as Mickey's voice echoed through the store.

"Floyd! Let's go!"

"S-Sorry," Bob muttered, stepping past her and heading for the loft railing. "Just... hang on for one second?"

As soon as Mickey looked up and saw him, he said, "We gotta go, man. I got some books for my nephews, but we'll be late to grab a drink before D&D if we don't leave now. You know how she gets when we're late." He was shaking a bag of books and heading for the door.

Bob did know for a fact that Jessica got annoyed when they showed up late because they got hungry or distracted on the way to The Hard Deck. "Just give me a minute," he told Mickey, but he was already outside. 

He swiped his sweaty palms on his jeans and turned around to find the aisle empty. Oh no. He checked the next row of shelves, and the next, and the next, until he got all the way to the stairs, but the adorable redhead was nowhere to be found. And he had no idea what her name was. 

"Hello?" he called out softly, checking each aisle again until he was back where he started. Bob might have believed that he imagined the whole entire exchange with an attractive woman, except that there was one book propped up against the others right where he and she had been standing. 

"A Room With a View by E. M. Forster," he mumbled as he picked it up and turned it over in his hands. He glanced around again, but she was well and truly gone, leaving nothing except for what seemed like a book recommendation. 

"Floyd!"

Bob sighed and tipped his head back in frustration. "Coming!"

He descended the stairs slowly, head swiveling in every direction, searching for brown eyes and a braid while he held the book. Gone. He paid for A Room With a View and headed outside to find Mickey looking quite annoyed. What he didn't see was the mystery girl watching him from the far end of the loft.

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

"She was real," Bob insisted as he held his glass of ginger ale a little tighter. "Just because you were too busy yelling doesn't mean I made her up in my mind. She had red hair and brown eyes."

Mickey gave him a skeptical look. "That's actually a really rare combination. And I know for a fact you happen to have an excellent imagination, my friend."

Bob cradled his forehead in his hand. "Why didn't I ask for her name and number?" Then he paused. "You know what? It doesn't even matter. There's no way she would have agreed to give it to me." 

He thought about the book he bought sitting on the front seat of his truck next to his dice bag and character sheet, and he considered just going home for the night. Maybe he could start to read the book. Maybe he'd feel like writing.

Then he felt an arm slip around his waist. "Hi, Jessica," he said as he blushed when he looked down at Jake's petite girlfriend. A second later, Bradley's wife was next to him as well, and Bob realized they were wearing matching smirks.

"Hey, Bob," Jessica replied, giving him a little squeeze. "We were just wondering if you happened to like redheads."

Mickey snickered before he tipped his beer bottle back and finished the drink. "He loves them. Daydreams about them."

Bob shot him a withering look. "She was real."

"Who was real?" Bradley's wife asked as her husband came up behind her and set his chin on her shoulder. Great, now he was going to have a full audience of people informed about his embarrassing afternoon of not even knowing how to ask a woman what her name was.

"There was a cute girl at the bookstore in North Park earlier," he muttered. "She had red hair, and I fumbled the ball."

Bradley chuckled. "You know what your problem is, right? You're too nice. Sugar met me when I was an absolute fuckboy, and she fell hard."

"I've been having a decade long lapse of judgement," she replied, and Bradley kissed her neck. "Don't listen to him, Bob. Girls love nice guys."

But Bob knew they didn't. Even the woman from the bookstore dodged him after approximately five minutes of flirting. If you could even call that flirting. He finished his ginger ale, and said, "We need to go. It's almost time for D&D. I'll drive."

Mickey nodded and said, "I'm ready." He could probably tell Bob had reached his limit with this conversation. His friend may be an extrovert to the extreme, but he was good at recognizing when Bob needed a break.

Jessica nodded as well and patted him on the chest before she pranced off into Jake's open arms. They shared the most adorable looking kisses before Jake straightened out her glasses and tucked her hair behind her ear. "Have her home by midnight, Bob!" he called as he released her. 

Bob nodded wishing there was someone besides the elderly woman who lived in the duplex next to him that cared if he was out past midnight or not. Even though he always looked forward to playing Dungeons & Dragons, he kind of wanted to head home and call it an early night. Nothing sounded as good as sending an email to Nat before reading his new book. But he would wait until later, and maybe he would even be in the mood to get his laptop out.

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

Anna went back to her studio apartment empty handed. Well, that wasn't quite true. She didn't buy any books, but she did splurge on a six dollar bottle of wine which would probably taste disgusting. She just hoped it would help her sleep through the night after reading some sad poetry and eating a piece of toast for dinner. 

That guy from the bookstore was going to linger in her mind for a long time whether she wanted him to or not. She was more attracted to him after five minutes in his presence than she was to Kevin at any point in the past five years. And if she was going to start thinking about Kevin, she was probably going to cry. 

The toast was good, but the wine was bad. And she did cry a little bit. She was never going to get attached to the idea of being in a relationship ever again. She was never going to have herself that level of intimacy just to have it ripped away. She wouldn't allow it. Relying on herself would have to be enough. Handsome strangers with muscular, veiny arms and cute glasses who made her laugh were not part of the plan. That's why she ducked behind the end cap after she left him a book she thought he might like. She watched him buy it for himself, which left her almost breathless. If she allowed herself to, she could picture him sitting in a coffee shop sipping some tea and reading that book.

"Enough," she whispered, vision a little sloppy from the wine. She opened up the website called PoetsAmongUs, read a bookmarked collection about how good it would feel to be loved completely, and passed out. 

The realization that she was going to have to spend all of Sunday afternoon getting ready for the week was made slightly easier by the fact that she only had four hundred square feet of space to clean. And then she thought about the beautiful home she once had in New Jersey, and she had to finish the bottle of wine to help her get through her notes on The Great Gatsby.

She was still thinking about that hot guy with the glasses on Monday when she grabbed a donut from the teacher's lounge. Indulging in a little fantasy here and there about being loved and cared for wouldn't be so bad. And putting his face to it just made it even sexier. When she wasn't teaching, she let her mind wander to some possibilities that would never happen again. Pretty eyes, lean muscles, soft looking hair, pink cheeks. He probably had nice friends, too. He probably never cheated on anything in his life.

"Hey, Anna? Are you alright?"

She looked up from her bag of peanuts and realized she'd been so deep in thought, she wasn't paying attention to the lunch conversation. "I'm sorry," she replied, fighting the urge to groan. She wasn't very good at this stuff and should have probably just eaten lunch in her office like she did the past few days. The fact that it was Wednesday and she was still distracted was concerning to her. 

"Don't apologize. You just seem lost in thought," said Jessica as she ate another perfect looking lunch. 

"Do you want some chips and hummus? Bradley packed me too much food today," her other friend said. And of course he did, because he sounded like a damn dream.

Anna ate a few chips and sighed. "Have either of you ever had your heart smashed to bits?" She didn't really mean to say that out loud, but now that she had, she was met with an awkward silence that she wanted to run away from. 

"Yeah," Advanced Calculus replied softly. "And I did it to myself."

"Not my heart as much as my hopes and dreams," Advanced Physics added. "But for me, I think that was much worse."

Now the silence that followed wasn't quite as painful, but Anna was still a little embarrassed. "Yeah. All of the above." She cleared her throat and tried to think of something else to talk about, but her mind was still on the bookstore. "Hey, why didn't you tell me that San Diego is full of hot guys? They are literally everywhere. I went window shopping in North Park and got sucked into a bookstore, and I bumped into a guy with glasses who smelled so nice."

"Ohhh, what did he look like?"

Anna sighed. "You know how you can just tell a guy is really strong even though he doesn't have bulging muscles?"

"Mmhmm."

"He was like that." Anna bit into her sandwich and chewed it slowly. "Pretty eyes, kind of the color of a lake. Sandy hair. Wire glasses. Soft spoken. He smelled like a cup of tea." 

A few seconds later, she was snapped back from her drifting thoughts as Advanced Calculus asked, "Did you say this was at a bookstore in North Park?"

"Yes," Anna replied with a nod. 

"Did you get his name?" Advanced Physics asked. 

"No," she answered, still embarrassed over the fact that she hid from him.

And then she thought she was going to get whiplash again.

"Was he about six feet tall?"

"Was he slim but not skinny?"

"Did he blush when he smiled?"

"Will you please come to the Hard Deck this weekend?"

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

Bradley is so proud of the fact that Sugar fell for him when they were in college. Beer Boy just gets better with age. This little Bob and Anna meet cute might spell disaster when they figure it all out! Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 3

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[fan-fantasies]

My Choice

A/N: hey everyone! I know it’s been a while. Life got pretty rocky there for a bit but things seem to be a bit better now. I’ve been wanting to write for a while so thank you to those that have requested ideas! I hope you enjoy it! I switched up the request a bit and I’m a little rusty so I hope it’s still okay.

Summary: Rhea is a mafia boss. She was your boss at your regular day job but fired you out of nowhere. What happens when she shows up at your house one night, bloody and beaten down?

Pairing: Mafia!Rhea x reader

Warnings: blood, nudity

You grabbed the lavender bath oil from the cabinet and set it next to the tub. You lit a few candles and set them around the bathroom. All that was left was to run your bath. You needed to relax after a long day.

Your boss had fired you with no explanation, and while you were given a generous severance package, you were still quite upset.

You were the executive assistant at Ripley Enterprise, working directly under the CEO, Rhea. To say the two of you were close was an understatement, which is why you were even more confused when she let you go.

You knew she was doing some shady things behind the scenes, hearing the rumors all over town about how she was a mafia boss, but you didn’t really care. She treated you and the rest of her employees well.

While she was flirty with you, she never crossed the line to inappropriate. You may have developed a small crush on her during your tenure at her company, but you never acted on it. She was your boss, after all.

You shook the thoughts from your head, not wanting to think about her or your job any longer.

Before you could get the water running, you heard a faint knock from the front door. It was so soft you almost thought it wasn’t real. But when you heard it again, you knew you weren’t imagining it.

You tightened your robe and went to the front door, peaking out the window first. You sighed before opening the door.

“Can I help you?” You asked sharply. Rhea turned around and you gasped. “What happened to you?”

You quickly pulled her inside and inspected her bloody face. Her lip was busted open and she had a cut on her brow. She had some blood on her chest that you didn’t think was hers.

“I’m sorry; I didn’t know where else to go,” she mumbled quietly, staring at the floor.

“Come on.” You pulled her into the kitchen and grabbed a washcloth. You ran it under warm water before pressing it gently to her head. She sucked in a sharp breath but let you continue.

You cleaned the blood from her face and chest, but you couldn’t do anything about the tired eyes and worn down look.

“Thank you,” she said, finally making eye contact. “I normally take care of this myself; I just…didn’t want to be alone.”

“I get it,” you nodded sadly.

“Can I use your bathroom real quick?”

“Of course- first door on your left.”

She stepped away from you and went to the bathroom.

You had no idea why Rhea decided to show up at your house out of all people, especially when she made it pretty clear she didn’t want you around anymore.

“I should go,” she said, snapping you from your thoughts. “I was interrupting your evening. I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s okay! You don’t have to go. Why don’t I run you a bath actually and you can relax.”

“I don’t want to impose-“

“I won’t take no for an answer,” you said, pulling her back to the bathroom.

You ran the hot water and added the oil. You made sure it was the right temperature before standing back up.

“Leave your clothes, I’ll get you something to change in to,” motioning to her outfit which was stained with more blood.

“Stay, please,” she nearly whispered.

“Are you sure?” You asked, your heart nearly beating out of your chest.

She slowly made her way toward you, stopping only inches in front of you. Her fingers began to play with the tie on your robe.

“Only if you’re okay with it,” she said. You didn’t hesitate to nod and you noticed her visibly relax.

You dropped your robe and climbed into the tub, focusing on the water instead of her stripping out of her clothes.

You expected her to sit across from you, but she got in facing away from you and laid herself back against your chest.

You ran your hands up and down her arms, trying to soothe her.

“Why did you fire me?” You asked, unable to keep it to yourself any longer.

“Because I need you to be safe.”

“What do you mean? I was safe,” you told her.

“Things are getting a little dicey and I couldn’t put you at risk. I’m not exactly who you think I am,” she admitted.

“I think I have an idea and it never bothered me. I love…my job. I loved working for you no matter the risk,” you stopped yourself from saying what you truly meant.

“I figured it was easier to cut all ties with you rather than have you taken from me.”

“So you don’t want me in your life?” You asked, unable to hide the pain in your voice.

“Quite the opposite actually. You were the only person I thought of coming to tonight. I needed to see you after the night I had. I just couldn’t be the reason something happened to you.”

“It should be up to me whether I think you’re worth the risk or not,” you stated firmly.

She sat up and turned to face you.

“You’re right. And I’m sorry for taking that choice from you.”

“Apology accepted. Now can I have my job back?”

“No.” Your heart dropped. “Only because I can’t date my employees, and I’d very much like to ask you out.”

“So it’s you or my job?”

“If you want to put it that way,” she shrugged.

“I can always find another job, I can’t find another you,” you said with a small smile. Her face lit up for the first time that night.

She leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to your lips. You went to deepen it and she winced.

“I’m sorry!”

“Don’t apologize, now get back here,” she said, pulling you back in for more.

“I’m glad you came here tonight,” you said.

“I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”

———

Please comment and follow!

#rhea ripley #rhea ripley x reader #wwe rhea ripley #rhea ripley fanfiction #rhea x reader #wwe #rhea ripley fluff

[guess-my-next-obsession]

Hey! I love your writing. Could I please request a fluff piece when Iris is till a baby and Joel is on dad duty? Idk just something really fluffy where he just enjoys being a dad and also Sarah helping?

Dad Duty

pairing: elementary!joel miller x f!reader

rating: F (no outbreak au, talks of diapers and poop because infants are a mess, elementary!joel being the best dad/husband in the world, talks of being drunk/alcohol consumption)

wc: <1k

a/n: sorry for the delayed wait on this, anon! i hope you enjoyed it nonetheless 🫶🏼

series masterlist | joel masterlist

“Are you sure you’ve got everything?” you asked, standing by the front door in a “going out” outfit for the first time since your daughter had been born six months ago. “I can cancel.”

Joel shook his head sternly as he and Sarah sat on the couch, Iris fast asleep in his arms.

“It’s your best friend’s birthday,” he said. “I won’t hear the end of it from her if she suspects you cancelled all because you don’t think I can handle a six-month old.”

“Of course I think you can handle it,” you said, offering him a sweet smile as you grabbed your purse. “I just feel guilty—“

“Baby,” he sighed, tilting his head at you. “Iris ain’t gonna remember you goin’ out one time when she was six months old.”

“I know, but—“

“No buts,” he said. “Get your fine ass out there, and take a couple shots for me while you’re at it.”

“Besides,” Sarah chimed in, pulling your eyes to hers. “I’m here as backup. Go have fun for once.”

Letting out a deep exhale, you nodded, agreeing to bury your guilt over leaving your daughter behind for the first time. “Fine. But if you need me—“

“Baby,” Joel chuckled. “We got it. Go get hammered.”

Walking over to him, you leaned down and kissed his cheek. “Thank you. I love you.”

“Love you more,” he said, tilting your chin so that he could steal a quick peck on your lips, careful not to smudge your lipstick. “Go on now before they start honkin’ and wake baby girl up.”

“Alright,” you said, walking over to the door. “Sarah, don’t let your dad try to cook anything. I’d hate to come back to ashes.”

“Already on it.”

“Sarah!” Joel called from the upstairs nursery, Iris on the changing table in front of him making the biggest and grossest mess he’d ever encountered in his tenure as a father. “We got any more wipes?”

Sarah was already laughing when she walked in, carrying a new pack of wipes in hand before she witnessed the scene in front of her and started to gag.

“I’m never having a kid,” she said, covering her nose with her t-shirt.

“This ain’t the usual,” Joel said, shaking his head as he tried his best to clean up his very wiggly daughter. “Stay still, baby girl. It’s—Jesus, Iris. How’d it get in your hair?”

“I’m not even sure a bath will fix this,” Sarah said, looking disgusted. “I think we have to take her back and get a brand new baby.”

“Your mom would notice,” he said. “Otherwise, ain’t too bad an idea.”

After a thorough cleaning that left Joel scarred, Iris was set down in her activity chair down in the living room, her favorite nonsensical cartoon on while Sarah helped Joel cook some mac and cheese for dinner, her babbles filing the home.

“And to think she thought the house would catch on fire if I tried to cook,” he said, smiling at the thought of you.

“Well, in fairness it has almost happened before,” she said, earning an offended look from her father. “You don’t remember the fork in the microwave incident?”

“Shit,” he cursed, shaking his head. “You’re right. But in my defense, someone left it in my takeout box.”

“Yeah, you.” Joel chuckled, amused by her wit. “But to pad your stats, we can lie and say you made dinner tonight.”

“No, she’d expect me to start cookin’ then,” he said. “I may have pulled a miracle tonight, but my battin’ average ain’t great. Do you want to take the chance of house burnin’ down?”

“Good point.”

“Exactly. You’re takin’ the credit for this work of art.” Joel pointed at the pot of artificial cheese goodness. “How in the world am I hungry after cleaning up Iris’s shi—“

“Dad,” she winced. “I just got the image out of my mind.”

“If I gotta remember it, you do too, baby girl.”

It was midnight by the time you stumbled in, waving your best friend and her designated driver-slash-husband goodbye as you cracked the front door open before heading inside. To your surprise, Joel was still awake and rocking Iris to sleep in his arms, though judging by the heavy blink of his eyelids, he was barely hanging on.

“Hey baby,” he said with a smile as you stumbled your way over to the couch as quietly and gracefully as you could to sit down beside him, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. “How was it?”

“I’m drunk,” you confessed, your voice raspy from singing along to the club’s music. “And hungry.”

“Well, lucky for you, Sarah made dinner,” he said, standing up with Iris and setting her down in her rocker before holding his hand out for you. “Come on, you drunkard.”

“How were the girls?” you asked, clasping your hand in his as he guided you to the kitchen table to have a seat while he warmed up tonight’s leftovers.

“A piece of cake,” he said, shooting you a smile from over his shoulder. “Iris had one very messy diaper incident, but besides that, she was an angel. Just like her mom.”

“Hey, I won’t be having any messy diaper incidents for another fifty years or so,” you joked, earning another grin. “You gonna love me when I’m wearing a diaper?”

“Baby, I’m older than you,” he reminded. “If you’re wearin’ a diaper, so am I.”

“Oh, I can’t wait,” you mused with a wide, drunken grin. “You can save your payback for then, have Iris see how it feels.”

“I like the way you think, baby,” he chuckled. “But I love her too much to make her go through what I went through earlier. I think I’m gonna need therapy after that.”

You stood up, finding your way over to him to wrap your arms around his waist and hug his back, too in love with him not to touch him.

“Thank you for tonight. I didn’t know how much I needed it,” you said, humming as Joel’s hand lowered from the pot on the stove to run over your forearm wrapped around his middle. “How about next weekend I watch the girls so you can have a night out?”

“Maybe one of these days we’ll both get to go out,” he chuckled. “Until then, I’m good stayin’ at home with my girls.”

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fluff #joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller fluff #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller series #joel miller tlou #elementary

[drunkenskunk]

So, despite knowing that it's probably futile, I called the office of my senator once again, in the vain hope that the staffer I talked to will pass on the message and get her to see reason in regards to KOSA.

Trouble is: how? Catherine Cortez-Masto is a cosponsor of the bill. I couldn't appeal to her sense of morality, as she's a politician; she had her ethics surgically removed before coming into office. I couldn't appeal to the stated goal of the bill, protecting kids, because if she had spoken to a single cybersecurity professional, she would know that the bill is dangerous to kids, adults, and anyone wanting to use the internet. I couldn't appeal to the Constitution, because if she actually gave a shit about the US Constitution or the Bill of Rights, she would already know its a blatant, flagrant violation of both the 1st and 4th amendments, and be trying to kill the bill, not cosponsor it. And I probably couldn't appeal to the fact that the bill was dreamed up by the same republican think-tank that dreamed up Project 2025, the plan to turn what little remains of our democracy into a theocratic dictatorship run by evangelical christians; she probably believes she's wealthy and influential enough that it will insulate her from the worst effects, assuming she isn't already in on it anyway.

It was a puzzler. And then I had an idea. This is what I said:

"Do you know who Steve Sisolak is? You do? Good. Do you want to know why he's the former Nevada state governor, and not the current one? It's because Sisolak was, without exaggeration, the most unpopular politician I've ever come across. No one liked him. Democrats hated him, republicans REALLY hated him, libertarians hated him, and even people like me, who have never felt represented by any of the major political parties in the state but still vote in every single election because we consider it our civic duty as American citizens, didn't like him either. I can't think of a single person who ever had anything positive to say about his tenure as governor, and as a result? The voter base in Nevada was willing to do anything and vote for anyone just to get him out of office.

"I tell you this, because if Senator Cortez-Masto does not change course, and continues to cosponsor and vote yes on the incredibly unpopular, incredibly dangerous, blatantly unconstitutional KOSA bill, then she will make Steve Sisolak's year, as he will no longer be the most reviled politician in the state of Nevada. If she does not reverse course, she will be committing political suicide on a scale hithertofore unknown to science. If she votes yes, then she might as well pull a Mitch McConnell and announce her retirement right now, because any of her political aspirations for the future, at least among the Nevada voter base, will be dead in the water.

"Now, I don't know how many phone calls you've gotten about KOSA. But I suspect it's not as many as you should. Most people in this state don't have time to call their senators. Most people are working two or three jobs to make ends meet with stagnant wages among the rising cost of living and landlords finding any excuse to increase our rent. Hell, I'm calling you on my lunchbreak right now. But despite all that... people here still find time to vote. And if there is one thing I've learned about voters in this state in the 18 years I've been able to? It's that if you piss us off, the people in this state will absolutely vote entirely out of spite, just to burn everything down. KOSA is so incredibly unpopular among the voter base of this state, that when she's next up for reelection? She will find herself out of a job, mark my words.

"Make sure you tell the Senator that, word for word. And if you can't remember, just play her this phone call that I already know is being recorded."

Will this do any good?

I don't know.

Probably not.

But it made me feel a bit better, at least.

#KOSA #stop kosa #bad internet bills #kosa bill #fuck kosa

[ctitan98official]

Larissa Weems gets pregnant by Y/N

18+ Minors DNI

I had to write this because there’s not enough fics of Larissa being pregnant and she would be an awesome mom. Reader, as always, is gender-neutral so head canon science, anatomy, or magic as the reason Y/N can get Larissa pregnant. Let’s get into it!

Larissa paces nervously in her office, waiting for your arrival. The school has recently hired you on as a teacher and she can’t help but be curious about the fresh face joining their faculty.

You come highly recommended and your resume is very promising, but weirdly enough, you two have actually never spoken in person. You’ve only interacted with her through video calls filled with multiple members of the school board. But, she finds herself longing to spend some time with you one-on-one. You’re very charming. She feels like she could talk to you for hours and still crave more of your time.

Larissa is suddenly brought out of her musings as the door to her office creaks open. She turns to see you standing in the doorway and her knees become weak.

Shit.

She isn’t nearly as prepared to meet you as she thought she was. It seems that the video calls didn’t do you justice. You are just so… Good-looking. In that instant, time seems to stand still. Her heart skips a beat as she locks eyes with you, feeling an undeniable connection that goes beyond mere attraction.

You quickly offer a friendly grin, enjoying the sight of the gorgeous woman in front of you. “Hi, I’m Y/N L/N. It’s a pleasure,” You say and hold out your hand to her.

Larissa feels shaky as she takes all of you in. Your eyes, your voice, your confident, but kind, smile. Oh… She really should say something right now, shouldn’t she? It feels like her mouth takes a minute to catch up with her brain, but she shakes her head to clear it. “Hello, Y/N. It’s so nice to meet you in person,” She finally says, allowing you to take her hand. Her eyes nearly roll back at how nice your skin feels against hers.

“Great to be here. The campus is beautiful. You have a lot to be proud of, Principal Weems,” You chuckle.

“Oh please, Larissa is fine,” She giggles nervously, cheeks red as tomatoes. “Jericho is such a lovely area. We’re very lucky to be able to enjoy its scenery,” She says.

Wow. Now it’s your turn to feel a bit nervous. Larissa is so warm and intelligent. And her voice… You can tell you’re going to have a crush on her soon enough.

Larissa invites you for a tour of the school and you happily accept. Although, to be honest, you’re too busy checking her out to really listen to what she’s saying… You end up getting lost on the first day of classes because of this, but it was worth it to catch the view you got of her bottom.

Your time at Nevermore was amazing from the beginning. You love teaching here.

Larissa’s infatuation with you grows stronger with each passing day. She can’t help but fantasize about you, about the raw lust that would consume her if she were to feel your touch. Her mind wanders to those secret desires, even in the most mundane of situations. You’re definitely her type. She feels guilty for thinking such dirty things about you, but to be fair, you’re doing the exact same with her.

A few months into your tenure at Nevermore, Larissa finally admits to herself that she’s starting to really love you… She has a whole freak out about it too. She’s never truly been in love before.

But, one evening, after a successful fundraiser for the school, you invite Larissa out for drinks to celebrate. It seems like the perfect opportunity to spend some quality time together outside of the confines of Nevermore.

Laughter and shared stories fill the air between you, and Larissa finds herself falling even deeper in love with you. She’s really got it bad.

As the night winds down, and the drinks flow freely, you and Larissa both let your guards down.

You finally decide to shoot your shot. You want Larissa so badly and you hope you’re not misreading her signals. “Hey… Do you maybe want to get out of here-”

“Let’s go to my place!” Larissa interrupts… Before blushing wildly.

Your eyes widen in delight at this. “Really?!” You ask and lean in closer.

Larissa can’t seem to find her words as she takes in how close your lips are to hers. She nods silently.

The undeniable tension between you ignites like a spark, and before you know it, you’re tangled in a passionate embrace. You two shamelessly kiss at the bar for a minute before you make your way to Larissa’s house. The desire you’ve repressed for so long now rages like a wildfire, and you both surrender to its intoxicating pull.

In the embrace of darkness, you explore each other’s bodies, indulging in the forbidden pleasure you’ve longed for. It’s a night filled with raw passion, where every touch, every kiss, carries an electric charge. Larissa lets you truly have your way with her and she’s never felt so satisfied.

However, as the sun peeks over the horizon and your buzz wears off, reality crashes down upon you. The weight of your actions settles heavily on your shoulders. Shit… You just had crazy hot sex with your boss. What will the school do if they find out?! You don’t really care what happens to you, but you’re worried about the fallout Larissa might face if the school takes a dim view of the situation. Before you can spiral though, a voice brings you back to the present.

“Well, good morning, darling,” Larissa suddenly purrs and runs a hand along your shoulder. She’s positively euphoric. Last night was amazing.

You turn and offer a small smile. “Hey,” You say quietly.

Larissa giggles and sits up, wrapping her arms around you. “Now, you can’t possibly tell me that you’re shy after everything you did to me last night,” She teases and places kisses down your neck.

Your cheeks burn at Larissa’s words. Why does it have to be like this? You want her so badly, but you can’t have her.

The only way you can get yourself to leave is to hurriedly make an excuse to head out. Clean break. “I’ve got some… Work I need to do,” You tell her, immediately putting your clothes back on and leaving.

Larissa is bewildered and crushed at your departure. Did she… Do something wrong?

The days that follow are filled with avoidance. You seem to grow distant, and Larissa’s heart aches at the sudden and unexpected change in your behavior. She longs for your presence, your touch, but she can’t find the courage to reach out.

It breaks your heart whenever you walk around campus and see Larissa staring longingly in your direction. You want nothing more than to hold her, but you can’t risk it. You aren’t going to ruin her career. She’s too important.

A few weeks after you two hooked up, Larissa begins to feel strange symptoms she can’t explain. She finds herself nauseous and exhausted, her body no longer feeling like her own. Fear washes over her. Is it an illness? No, probably not. She must just be… Depressed. Right?

But, as she wakes up and instantly goes to vomit for the third morning this week, a tiny flicker of realization arises. Could she be…?

Finally gathering the strength to confront her suspicion, Larissa buys a pregnancy test and anxiously waits for the results. Seconds turn into eternity, but as the word “Pregnant” appears on the stick, Larissa’s heart swells with a mix of shock and joy.

While this isn’t how she imagined it would happen, being a mother has been a dream of hers for so long. She laughs and brings a hand to her mouth in disbelief as tears trail down her face. A baby… She’s going to be a mommy. She’s so happy.

But, while she processes the news, her mind quickly flicks to you. The baby is yours. Fuck. How the hell is she going to tell you?! She can’t even get you to look at her for more than a second or two whenever you see her.

This… Complicates things.

Masterlist

#larissa weems #larissa weems x reader #larissa weems x y/n #larissa weems x you #wednesday netflix #wednesday addams #principal weems #larissa x reader #larissa x y/n #netflix wednesday

[ornii]

“Bitterly Beautiful”

Wednesday Addams X Blind Male Reader. Part (1)

• This was a Story i posted on my Wattpad and decided to post it here, also thanks for reading it btw. I decided to use tumblr and well here I am.

Nevermore Academy, founded in 1791, to house and Teach the most, unique, individuals. Some were Vampires, Werewolves, and some even the most otherworldly beings, but there even existed monsters from beyond the bounds of reality. That could not be any more true than the boy who awakens in his dormitory room, he keeps his eyes closed but sits up with a weary yawn. He, without much issue gets dressed in the classic Nevermore uniform, the grimly striped blazer with shirt, tie and sweater combination of black sleek pants. After putting a pair of dark oval glasses on, he turns left and grabs a cane, a very antique design with a steel crow embodied design for the handle. He twirls it and walks to the door and leaves for the morning.

The boy enters a large courtyard, where the sounds of students bellowing, talking, howling, fill his ears. He places a tea cup on the stone table as he walks and sits down upon a stone seat and towards the table. He felt dust brush up against his skin, mostly his face. Not being able to use your eyes has its major disadvantages, but it also provides small bonuses. One was the much more heightened senses of Smell, touch, hearing and taste. Since the lack of eyesight was prominent. The other senses had to work harder to compensate for the loss, so even the slightest brush of wind picking up, he could notice. He removes his glasses and begins to wipe them off, but it was interrupted by a pair of oddly soft hands covering his face, which really does little to stop him.

"Guess Who~" The Mysterious and Cheerful voice asked under a muffled giggle. The boy stopped wiping his glasses and just smiled.

"Enid.. you know that doesn't work, right?" He said, and she lets go, and sits next to him.

"I know, but I didn't want to cover your ears, you couldn't hear me then (Y/n)." She says smiling, this was Enid Sinclair, a Werewolf and overall pretty amazing girl. They met during his first tenure at Nevermore and sort of, Clicked, not intentionally of course. She had her bright bubbly attitude which melted down his more cold and indifferent attitude towards everything and everyone, and now (Y/n) "Views" life in a more, honest fashion. He smiles hearing her voice, and tilts his head slightly to her direction.

"Well, what's new? You're pretty exited.." He asks and he notices her heartbeat is faster than average, and he can just hear the gleaming in her voice.

"I should and called you about it but let me give you the deets, I'm getting a roomie!" She says, and he smiles in response.

"That's great, is someone changing dorms?"

"No, she's transferring from another school, Wednesday Addams! I did. my research and she got expelled from her last school." Enid casually explains, and (Y/n) takes a sip of his Assam black tea, before listening to more of Enids explanation

"Yeah she tossed piranhas into the school pool and a boy lost a testicle." She flatly said which causes (Y/n) to cough up his Tea hearing that.

"E-Enid, are you... sure You want someone like that to Room with you? I think Principal Weems would understand you wanting a transfer."

"What? No! We're going to be the best of friends! I can already picture it! Doing each others hair, nails, talking about all the gossip at Nevermore, the Boys~" Enid was too much in a euphoric mood to listen to reason, (Y/n) simply nodded and acted happy for her, subconsciously worried for her health.

"Well, I hope you have fun then." He said, before the Principal Weems spoke up from behind them.

"Miss Sinclair." She said with this gaudy and proper tone, Enid quickly turns around, and smiles.

"Please, allow me to bring you up to your new Roommate, good morning also to you Mister Healy." She said, turning her attention towards (Y/n), who gives a solemn bow to principal Weems.

"Good Morning Principal." He replies, "Could I ask you what time it is?" He said, and she checks her watch.

"Nearing Seven."

"Ah, well I should get to feeding the crows then." He said, Enid and (Y/n) stand up and she waves him goodbye as she walks off with the Principal, he gives her a small wave back before walking away. He, without much issue, walks over to what seems to look like a Bin, he digs into it and takes out a bag, opening it, was full of an assortment of seeds. He tosses the bag as it opens and spills the seeds, he grabs a handful, and with the other arm, he taps his Cane on the ground twice. The Caws echo from the dead trees outside the Academy. They soar like a platoon of airmen. They land and peck, eating the seeds hungrily.

"You all seem eager, good." He says, and one flies up and lands on his arm. He smiles, it's caw echoes like music to his ears. He soon felt the crow fly off his arms desperately, all the crows fly away as if they're trying to avoid something. He feels a pair of footsteps approach. He acts oblivious until Enids voice comes though like music.

"And this, is (Y/n) Hearly. (Y/n), this is Wednesday Addams." Enid said, he turns around to sense a, dark presence, the sound waves echo and it forms a decent image of the woman standing next to Enid, the aura about her was a sense of utter dread. (Y/n) tries to put it behind him and offers a handshake.

"(Y/n), nice to meet you." He says, she takes it, firmly but her skin felt like ice. Sending chills down his spine he shivers slightly from it. He lets go a bit quickly and motions to the front.

"Welcome to Nevermore—" he begins but she cuts him off.

"You can skip the school Introductions your "Bestie" already informed me. I have no intention to stay here." She said, and Enid tries to make the situation better.

"Anyway, I came to ask if you could help move her stuff to the room!" She says and (Y/n) bows.

"I'd love to help." He says, Wednesday just stares morbidly at him, emotionless, cold. Shes analyzing him, she looks at his cane.

"You're Blind." She Said. And he laughed.

"Oh, how very perceptive of you, yes. I am." He Said, sarcastically, but her eyes still focused.

"You seem much more focused on your surroundings than the average blind person, you probably heard us approaching." She continues.

"Huh, can't get anything past you, can I? A question if I may, what happened at your old school?" He asked, and her response was short but terrifying.

"The only person who gets to torture my brother is me." She replies in that deadpan mundane tone, which sends shivers down his spine, he attempts to play it off.

"Ah, understandable, so... you don't plan to stay? Why not?" He asked, "This was my parents' idea. They've been looking for any excuse to send me here. It's all a part of their nefarious, yet completely obvious plan."

"What plan?" Enid asked.

"To turn me into a version of themselves." She replies, and Enid looks a bit, curious.

"In that case, perhaps you can clear something up. Rumor's been swirling around that you killed a kid at your old school, and your parents pulled strings to get you off." Enid says, and (Y/n) chimes in. "Murder?"

"Actually, it was two kids, but who's counting?" She says, Enid and (Y/n) sees both taken aback by her odd behavior, even for an outcast. "Right.." Enid begins, "Let me give you a wiki on Nevermore's social scene."

"I'm not interested in participating in tribal adolescent clichés."

"Well, then use it to fill your obviously bottomless pit of disdain. There are many flavors of outcasts here, but the four main cliques are Fangs, Furs, Stoners and Scales. Those are the Fangs, AKA vampires. Some of them have literally been here for decades. That bunch of knuckleheads are Furs, AKA werewolves. Like me!" Enid says to herself.

"Full moons get pretty loud around here. That's when Furs "wolf out." Id suggest you pick up noise-cancelling headphones, they've saved me ample sleep." (Y/n) says.

"I'm assuming Scales are sirens?" Wednesday said.

"You catch on quick. And that girl, Bianca Barclay, is the closest thing Nevermore has to royalty. Although her crown's been slipping lately. She used to date our resident tortured artist, Xavier Thorpe. But they broke up at the beginning of the semester. Reason unknown." Enid explains, much to Wednesday's uncaring attitude.

"Fascinating. And you?" She asked (Y/n) who gives a bow.

"A Fomorian, we’re..Ancient Tyrants from Ireland." (Y/n) explains, "There isn't many of us, Enids the only one who's really been a good friend to me, others are a bit wary. But they’ve come around, once Enid showed them I’m mot much of a real threat, they became much nicer and understanding thanks to her blog I suppose.” (Y/n) explains.

"I know, right? My vlog is, like, the number one source for Nevermore gossip." She explains, "(Y/n) sadly can't see it." Enid huffs.

(Y/n) leans into Wednesday a bit.

"There are some benefits to being blind. But I must ask, if you do murder people, what do you do with the bodies? Do you.. eat them? You might be a Fur."

"Quite the contrary. I actually fillet the bodies of my victims, then feed them to my menagerie of pets." She stares proverbial daggers at (Y/n), who just laughs, almost in disbelief.

"You.. really are different." He said. "Not that it's a bad thing of course."

"You should really get on Insta, Snapchat and TikTok." Enid says to Wednesday.

"I find social media to be a soul-sucking void of meaningless affirmation." She replies, (Y/n) and Enid share a small glance. "Well, I should get to taking your stuff to your room." (Y/n) says.

"See you adequate enough to not get lost on the way there?" She asked, and he smirks.

"Well, much like you Wednesday..." he says, the Furs begin a food fight and one hurls a peach, flying at him, without even breaking a sweat he catches it. His focus still on Miss Addams.

"I'm very perceptive.."

As (Y/n) and Enid take Wednesdays things to her room, she is forced to say goodbye to her family.

"Look at you, my little deathtrap. Seeing you in this uniform brings back so many terrible memories. Doesn't it, Tish?" Her Father, Gomez. Her illustrious and, profound mother steps up, Morticia.

"Yes. Why don't you boys wait in the car? Wednesday and I need a moment." She said, Pugsley, her less than enthusiastic brother is then approached by Wednesday.

"Pugsley, you're soft and weak. You'll never survive without me. I give you two months, tops." She says, what seems to be nothing but cold insults to some were words of love to him.

"I'm gonna miss you, too, sis." He said, Gomez and pugsley leave, letting Wednesday and Morticia have a solemn stare down.

"Any plans you have of running away end right now. I've alerted all family members to contact me the minute you darken their doorstep. You have nowhere to go."

"As usual, you underestimate me, Mother. I will escape this educational penitentiary, and you will never hear from me again."

The two opposing forces seem so contested. Morticia sighs at her dismayed daughter.

"You are a brilliant girl, Wednesday, but sometimes you get in your own way. I'm sure you'll grow to love Nevermore, and find it as life-changing as I did. Oh, I got you a little something." She continues and hands her an amulet, dark in design.

"W... M. Our initials. It's made of obsidian, which Aztec priests used to conjure visions. It's a symbol of our connection."

"Which one of your spirits suggested this toe-curling tchotchke? I'm not you, Mother. I will never fall in love, or be a housewife, or have a family." Wednesday retorted with scathing remarks, Which Morticia tries not to respond to.

"I'm told girls your age say hurtful things, and I shouldn't take it to heart."

"Fortunately, you don't have one."

"..Finally, a kind word for your mother, We can't talk to you for the first week while you're settling in, so we'll call you next Sunday." She said, giving Wednesday a lovingly look before leaving. What seems to be a "Perfect." Rooming situation has turned into the complete opposite, as Wednesday tore off the colored plastic for the massive circular window within her room, only her side of course, which would have been fine for most people. But Enid isn't, most people.

"What the hell did you do to my room?!" Enid storms into her room after seeing it, which Wednesday calmly turns to her.

"Dividing our room equally. It looks like a rainbow vomited on your side."

"I—"

"Silence would be appreciated. This is my writing time." Wednesday says, sitting at her desk and in front of a vintage typewriter.

"Your writing time?"

"I devote an hour a day to my novel. Perhaps if you did the same, your vlog might be coherent. I've read serial killer diaries with better punctuation."

"I write in my voice. It's my truth. It's what my followers love."

"Your followers are clearly imbeciles. I'm surprised (Y/n) hasn't poured melting wax into his ears by now listening to it, They respond to your stories with insipid little pictures."

"Uh, you mean, emojis? It's how people express their feelings. I realize that's a foreign concept to you." Enid reminds, pretty surprising, they approach each other, standing on the edge of their respective sides of the room.

"When I look at you, the following emojis come to mind. Rope, shovel, hole. By the way, there are two D's in Addams. If you're going to gossip about me, at least spell my name correctly." Wednesday walked back to her typewriter. Enid, in pure spite, Enid plays pop music, just to annoy the more mundane Wednesday. She twists her head around, Owl like.

"Turn that off. This is your final warning." Wednesday approached, but Enids nails elongated into sharp claws.

"Rawr! Don't mess with me. This kitty's got claws, and I'm not afraid to use them." Enid and Wednesday are at a standoff, neither side giving any leeway, before and guts and glamor could be spilled, the door to their room opens. It was a woman, slightly brunette hair with an, oddly normal flair in terms of most teachers.

"Good evening, girls. Oh, sorry about the mud. I wanted to make sure that Wednesday was settling in. Ah. Is this a bad time? I'm Ms. Thornhill, your dorm mom. Apologies, I wasn't here to greet you when you arrived. I trust Enid has given you the old Nevermore welcome." She said, the two girl momentarily halt their fangs.

"She's been smothering me with hospitality. I hope to return the favor...In her sleep." Wednesday said, which Enid eyes her, Thornhill reveals in her arms a plant, which was oddly black, devoid of color, or life.

"Well, here's a little welcome gift from my conservatory. I try to match the right flower to each of my girls. When I read your personal statement in your application, I immediately thought of this one."

"The black dahlia."

"Oh, you know it?"

"Of course. It's named after my favorite unsolved murder. Thank you." Thornhill looks taken aback by it but tries to keep her composure.

"Okey-dokey. Before I leave, I want to go over a few house rules. Lights off at 10:00, no loud music, and no boys, ever."

"What's the story about going into the local town?" Wednesday asked.

"Passes to Jericho are a privilege, not a right. It's a brisk 25-minute walk, or there's a shuttle on the weekends. The locals are a tad bit wary about Nevermore, so please don't go making any waves, or perpetuating any outcast stereotypes. That means keep your claws to yourself, and no smothering people in their sleep. Are we clear? Great talk." Thornhill leaves, letting Enid and Wednesday alone.

Jericho, the City housing Nevermore have a bit of a history, an unfortunate one at that. Wednesday is being taken to her therapist.

"Dr. Kinbott's office is on the second floor. Other Nevermore students swear by her. Perhaps afterwards we can visit the Weathervane for hot chocolate."

"Principal Weems, this feeble attempt at bonding is beneath you. And chauffeuring your students around is below your pay grade." Wednesdays cold and unfeeling attitude made the Principal a bit, unwary.

"Given your history, I'm sure you're intent on running away. I'm here to prevent that from happening. I wish you luck." Weems says, stopping at the Office. Wednesday enters and to the clean, porcelain white room of her new and kind therapist.

"I read the notes from your school counselor. Mrs. Bronstein." She Said.

"She had a nervous breakdown after our last session and had to take a six-month sabbatical."

"Go ahead and take a seat. How did you feel about that?"

"Vindicated. But someone who crochets for a hobby isn't a worthy adversary."

"Adversary? I hope we can forge a relationship based on trust and mutual respect. This is a safe space, Wednesday. A sanctuary where we can discuss anything. What you're thinking, feeling, your views on the world, personal philosophy."

"That's easy. I think that this is a waste of time. I see the world as a place that must be endured, and my personal philosophy is kill or be killed."

"So, for instance, when someone bullies your brother, your response is to dump piranha in the pool?" She asked, and Wednesday looks a bit pleased with herself.

"You know the old saying, "never bring a knife to a sword fight." Unless it's concealed."

"Point is, you assaulted a boy, and showed no remorse for your actions. That's why you're here."

"He lost a testicle. I did the world a favor. People like Dalton shouldn't procreate. I've answered all your questions." Wednesday stands up but is shut down.

"We're not done yet. Therapy is a valuable tool to help you understand yourself. It can teach you new ways to deal with your emotions. It can also help you build a life that you want."

"I know the life that I want."

"Tell me about it. Everything said in these sessions is strictly confidential. Do your plans involve becoming an author? I understand you've written three novels about a teen girl detective, Viper De La Muerte. Can you tell me about her?" She asked, and Wednesday shows a hint of her true feelings.

"Viper is smart, perceptive, chronically misunderstood."

"Any luck getting your work published?"

"Editors are short-sighted, fear-based life forms. One once described my writing as gratuitously morbid, and suggested I seek psychiatric help. Hmm. Ironic, isn't it?"

"How did you take that?"

"I sent her a "thank you."

Wednesday sends her "Thank You", which was full of mouse traps, heavy steel ones that can and will break bones.

"...I've always been open to constructive criticism." She says with her classic mundane expression.

"I'm glad to hear that. Because I was sent the manuscripts as part of your psych evaluation. The relationship I found most intriguing was that of Viper and her mother, Dominica. Why don't we dig into that? Part of this journey requires us going to uncomfortable places emotionally."

"I don't travel well. Would you mind if I use the powder room first?" She asked, The Therapist kindly obliged and Wednesday enters, and quickly begins to come up with a way to leave.

"Wednesday? Is everything okay? You can't hide for the rest of the session."

"I'm all right. Just preparing myself for our uncomfortable journey." She says, and sneaks out of the window. Entering a local coffee shop, she procures a ride to her freedom. As Wednesday sits at a sit in, she looks out the window to the insignificant lives of those in this town. And her eyes focus on a crow, perched on the window still, looking at her.

"Wednesday." A voice said calmly, she turns forward to (Y/n) sitting calmly across from her, she didn't even hear him approach. She looks back at the crow, which disappears.

"So, new in Town?" He says breaking the Ice.

"What do you want?"

"Can't I just say hello? I would say it's nice to see you but alas, I can't."

"For someone who's blind you're annoyingly focused on your surroundings."

"It's a benefit of being a monster, speaking of, I talked to Enid and she said you and her had a "Disagreement." About something." He begins, but Wednesday quickly shuts him down.

"The Glorified Personification of the 21st Century and I have opposing views, she didn't need to send her blind hound after me."

"Enid doesn't know I'm here, most don't know I'm here. I'm not here to fight you, Wednesday."

"Then what is it that you want from me?" She asks.

"I've heard of the things you've done before at your old school, all I ask that you don't hurt Enid. She, means a lot to me." He said, there was a ping from his coat and he pulls his phone out, Siri reads out a message, but Wednesday notices his phone case was pink, handmade with stickers, it's obvious it was made by a person with a much more, Feminine touch. It has the words "Bestie" bedazzled on it.

"Your phone case oozes insecurity and self deprivation." She said, and he turns his head towards her.

"I was a gift from Enid when I first came here, almost dropped my phone and she caught it, told me I should be more careful and, we just started talking. So she made this for me, Heh, always protecting me." He tilts his head up back at Wednesday.

"All I'm asking is that you is to be, well not nice but, just sociable to her, she's not a bad person. And she was really excited about you coming." (Y/n) explains, and Wednesday for a moment hesitates for an answer.

"I'll.. consider your request."

"Thank you—"

"Under one condition... you tell me what you truly are… i doubt your story of who you truly are.” she says. His attitude softens and he sighs, and he places his cane on the table.

"I'm not just a Fomorian, but a cursed one.. you know the Tale of Balor? The War Tyrant who's evil eye cursed whatever it laid its eyes upon, that's.. me. I'm Balor. Just reborn as a human thankfully, but the eyes still linger, but when your eyes can literally cause the destruction of the world, ...Drastic measures have to be taken. And my parents.." he continues, his voice getting a bit, somber.

"They Blinded you." Wednesday says, finishing the story.

"Thus the Tragic tale of Balor of Nevermore.." (Y/n) said, he couldn't see it, but he felt Wednesdays silence somehow, for a girl not lacking an arsenal of insults, she was quiet.

"Your Story...is tragic, they feared your power and tried to shut it down. You kept up your side of the Bargain so I will keep mine. I'll.. try to refrain from harming your Pet." She said, he sighs from her declaration.

"She's not my... whatever; thank you." He says, he turns to face the window.

"Some advice Wednesday, The Normies of Jericho, avoid Em, they don't see you as another human being, they see you as.. a "Freak." He said, while Wednesday couldn't see his eyes, she could feel the anger and spite forming from his words. Soon, the doors open from the Coffee shop to three teenagers, dressed as Pilgrims, they notice the Nevermore students.

"Hey, boys, check it out. Who's that?"

"Bro... Come on."

"What's a Pair of Nevermore freaks doing out in the wild?"

"This is our booth."

"Why are you dressed like religious fanatics?" Wednesday said, much to the Chagrin of the Teens.

"We're pilgrims."

"Potato, po-tah-to." She responds.

"We work at Pilgrim World." One said.

"It takes a special kind of stupid to devote an entire theme park to zealots responsible for mass genocide." She says, they approach Menacingly and (Y/n) stood up and tried to act peacefully.

"Cmon, guys there's no reason for us to act like this, we're just trying to enjoy our evening." (Y/n) said, the three scoff.

"The Freaks trying to weasel his way out of it." One said.

"Yeah, I don't think the Freak can see." Another laughs, and (Y/n) tries to keep his composure; leaning a bit on his Cane.

"Cmon, just leave us—" one, taking it too far sweeps his cane, forcing him to trip. He falls on his hands and knees and they laugh. Wednesday said nothing as they did, but she slowly stood up. Her glare catching the concern of them.

"It's fine.. Wednesday." (Y/n) says calmly, he takes his cane and stands back up, he walks over to the door, and with a swift motion, locks it. He turns to the boys.

".. Call me a Freak... One more time." He says, and they laugh at the blind one.

"Aww, gonna Cry? Call your Mommy? Or; are you gonna get your little creepy girlfriend to beat us up, better luck next Time, Freak." One said, they laughed once more, before the steel of the raven came went tying into his forehead, knocking him out, it's in the air and the other two look, (Y/n) comes running full speed, he jumps into the air, catches it and cracks another in the face, one begins to swing at him but he, with almost instinct, dodges and ducks each punch, before stomping on his foot, making him leap on one, he gut checks him with the steel end of the cane, he fails to one knee, gasping for air, he cocks back and swings, knocking him out as well. The three bodies lie on the ground, he adjusts his suit and uniform and walks to the door and unlocks it.

"Now, try and behave." He said, before the Sheriff, a gruffly man perhaps in his late 50s to early 60s.

"Tyler, the hell's going on in here?" He asked, turning his attention to the young man tending to the counter.

"They were harassing a customer, and he put them in their place." He said, the Sherrif looks to the young blind boy.

"This blind kid took down three boys? Did you help him?"

"Dad, I swear, I wasn't involved." Tyler says, and Weems enters as well; and looks Surprised to see (Y/n) and Wednesday.

"Apologies, Sheriff. These two slipped away from me. Come on, Mister Healy, Miss Addams, time to go." She says and the two begin to leave, before the Sheriff stops them.

"Wait a minute, hang on. You're an Addams? Don't tell me Gomez Addams is your father? That man belongs behind bars for murder. Hm...I'm gonna keep my eye on you." he says to them, and with those puzzling words, they leave, and Weems is more than miffed at them.

"Your first day and you're already on Sheriff Galpin's radar. Wish I could say I was surprised, and sneaking out of ground Mister Healy?"

"I caught the wrong shuttle; I apologize.. Wednesday found me and brought me to the cafe before we were accosted by those men." He said covering for her. "How kind of her." Weems said, somewhat buying the plausible explanation.

"What did he mean about my father?" Wednesday said.

"I have no idea, but a word of advice. Stop making enemies and start making a few friends. You're going to need them." Weems replies, their drive continues down to Nevermore, but slowly passing a car crash, a horrid one at that.

"Looks like an accident. I hope the driver's okay"

"He's dead. Broke his neck." Wednesday said, looking at the body. It's off How she could tell from the angle she had.

Night Falls upon Nevermore and while many of its students revel in the Darkness, some prefer to stay indoors with said activities. Such is Wednesday, who's haunting Cello tunes echo all throughout Nevermore, it especially reached the Ears of (Y/n), who stood at his rooms window, listening to the elegant but haunting tunes, and he had to get in closer. With a tap of his Cane, a crow bellows to his aid, he whispers into its ear and it flies off to the unknown. Wednesday ends her performance, and talks to someone.

"No, I don't really feel better. There's just something wrong about this place. Not just because it's a school." She says, and the taps of wood are heard, and Wednesday looks at the standing holding the music notes to a dismembered Hand, which was sown together. It somehow was, alive. Enid enters the Balcony as well.

"How the hell did you get that oversized violin out the window?" She asked and Wednesday turns towards her.

"I had an extra hand." She said deadpanned, and shows Thing.

"Whoa. Where's the rest of him?" She asks.

"It's one of the great Addams family mysteries." Wednesday said, and she hears the baying and howling of Werewolves in Nevermore.

"Why aren't you wolfing out?" Wednesday asks enid

"Because I can't." She says, she shows her growing finger nails, "It's all I got. My mom says some wolves are late bloomers, but I've been to the best Lycanologist. I had to fly to Milwaukee, would you believe it? Yeah, she says there's a chance I may never... you know."

"What happens then?"

"I'd become a lone wolf."

"Sounds perfect."

"Are you kidding me? My life would be officially over. I'd be kicked out of my family pack with no prospect of finding a mate." Enid says, holding back tears, Wednesdays looks off the balcony as well, seeing (Y/n) cleaning out a large bird cage.

"I doubt that, one mate would be walking into walls at the moment, I'm failing to see the problem here."

"I could die alone." Enid says.

"We all die alone, Enid."

"You really suck at this. Cheering people up." Enid says and cries, not able to hold it back.

"Why are you crying?"

"Because I'm upset! Haven't you ever cried, or are you above that too?" Enid said obviously upset.

"It was the week after Halloween. I was six years old. I took my pet scorpion, Nero, out for his afternoon stroll, and we were ambushed. They wondered what kind of freak would have a scorpion for a pet. Two of them held me down and made me watch...while the others ran Nero over until... It was snowing when I buried what was left of him. I cried my little black heart out. But tears don't fix anything. So I vowed to never do it again. " Wednesday explains her story, and Enid, now seeing that she isn't some cold machine, feels for her.

"Your secret's safe with me. Still think you're weird as shit, though."

"The feeling is incredibly mutual. How would you like your single room back? You just need to show me how to use your computer." Wednesday said, which confuses Enid.

"Okay?.." she says and leads her in, after some basic instruction on "How To Internet." Wednesday is able to pull on a web chat with someone; the guy who ram the cafe, Tyler.

"Uh... hi."

"That's Thing. Is he, like, your pet? Look, I know Nevermore is ground zero for all things weird, but this is next-level. So, what happened to not wanting to be a slave to technology?"

"Desperate times. Are you still willing to help me escape?"

"After what happened today, I figured they'd have you in solitary."

"There's the Harvest Festival this weekend. Attendance is mandatory. I'm going to use it as a cover. If you're willing to drive me to the station, I can make it worth your while." Wednesday said, and Tyler obliges.

"I'm in. And no charge. Consider it a freebie."

"Why? "

"Cause I wish I was going with you. At least one of us will get out of this hellhole town."

The First day of the Weekend begins with the Harvest Festival, a crowning achievement for Jericho and their very urban and more down to earth festival of carnival and games. Wednesday and Enid stand before each other, watching Tyler argue with his father.

"Are you sure you can trust that normie?"

"I trust that I can handle myself. I don't want you talking to her."

"Well, good luck and safe travels." Enid offers a hug, much to the chagrin of Wednesday. "Still not a hugger." Enid walks away, leaving Wednesday to escape, but as she turns around, a crow watches from a building, and (Y/n) sits calmly on a bench, drinking a soda. And Wednesday can tell.

"The Fool is following me, fortunately he makes it easy to point out." She says and they walk off. He stands up to follow but with all the sounds, his hearing cannot focus and he must console them eyes of another, but even then, it's not enough to go on, he halts as he gets a hint,  Wednesday breaks off from Tyler and chase someone into the forest. He begrudgingly attempts to give chase, listening to the sounds and impacts, what caught him off guard were the horrid screams of death and despair, he picks up the speed.

"Wednesday?! Wednesday!" He yells, he halts as he feels himself nearby something, he slams his cane against a tree and like a sonar, it brings it all to a picture, and more importantly the corpse lying on the ground and Wednesday nearby.

"... Wednesday.. what the Hell Happened?" He asked, she takes something and walks over to him.

"We don't have much time, and I'd rather discuss this without a corpse nearby, as much as that upsets me." She says, and the Boy sadly agrees, on the balcony of her dorm room, he gets most information.

"A monster? That killed Rowan? But there aren't any in Nevermore I can think of, but why was Rowan attacking you? How does this all connect?" He asks pacing around.

"I will need to do some investigating on my own, I can assume you and I share a common goal now. You wish to keep your Pet safe. And I want to understand why I am tied into this all." Wednesday explains, (Y/n) stops and turns to her.

"Again, not my Pet, and her safety is important to me, just as much as yours Wednesday."

"I can take care of myself."

"Obviously... I Never Said you couldn't, but it's never wrong to have someone who wants to help you." (Y/n) says. "I'll help because you're in danger, and I don't want my friends in danger.

"We're Not Friends."

"Not yet.. so, what all has happened?" (Y/n) asks.

"Let's see. I narrowly avoided death twice, discovered that my father may be a murderer, learned that I could potentially destroy the school, and was mysteriously saved by a homicidal monster. As much as it pains me to admit, mother was right."

"Right about what?" (Y/n) asks, and Wednesday responds.

"This school. I think I'm going to love it here." She says and has the smallest smirk on her face.

#wednesday addams x male reader #netflix #male reader #blindness #enid sinclair #wedensday x you #Wednesday #Wednesday x Reader #reader insert

[kit-williams]

Bit of Banter

Male Lead: Blood Angel Gabriel Universe/AU: Space Marine Husbandry Sentience Canon status: Can go either way but I would say it's canon

Gabriel preened under the affection of his human but there was always that language barrier. It went both ways mind you... when they first arrived it was hard to understand English, as where he found himself, and the same for other languages. It was dizzying to find out there were hundreds of languages nay thousands on just this one planet! Thirty four for the poor brothers stuck in this place called Italia.

But there was always something deep down over his connection, or bond as the Librarians called it, that it seemed just he could figure out what she was trying to tell him; perhaps it was simply his gift of his tenure as an Astarte and being enchanced. But he could tell that she struggled to fully understand him. Brothers would often say they would have to inject much more tone into their words, in armor overexaggerate their posture to convey emotion, and having to just emote a bit more for their human to pick up somewhat of what they were trying to say.

He was learning this maddening language that she just spoke with such ease. How it sounded so rapid when she spoke unlike the slower tones and enunciations that gothic had in comparison. But, that was simply his mind creating obstacles. He practiced his speaking day after day to even hold a small conversation with her.

He perked up as she walked into her home and was setting down bags. "Hi Gabe hope you had a good day."

"I did." His sing song voice replied now curious as he watched her move through the kitchen doing her ritual of observing what she was going to eat.

"Did you take something out for me to cook later?"

Gabriel feels a bit deflated as... did she not hear him? Was him speaking her tongue not impressive?

"I took out the steaks because I saw a lovely recipe."

He watched her slowly straighten up and look at him with wide eyes just blinking.

Gabriel swallowed, "Hello."

If he was mortal he would have jumped at the delighted shriek she gave off as she rushed over cupping his face just looking at him with a large grin on her face. "Oh my god! Hi!"

"Hello." He meekly said again. "Before you get too excited... I'm not very fluent yet."

She just hummed and hugged him tightly. "Doesn't matter oh my goodness you have such a song like pronunciation! Oh sorry I'm just..." She says pulling away just overly excited at how he talks. Gabriel is just talking softly and slowly making sure his words make sense watching the way her eyes shine as Gabriel doesn't really even know what he is talking about anymore he's just wanting to talk.

She, still grinning, cups his face again, "I can see why you took the steaks out. Yeah this definitely has earned you a reward." She kisses his forehead leaving him blushing and preening under her praise.

Tag List @bispecsual @the-californicationist @egrets-not-regrets @libraryshadow @bleedingichorhearts @liar-anubiass-blog

#fluffuary2024 #fluffuary #warhammer 40k #space marine husbandry #space marine husbandry sentience #OC: Gabriel #Blood Angels #tales from the barn #this is barn anon's boy #barn anon

[punkassfrance]

Make-Up Assignment - Tess x Fem!Reader (Kinktober Day 2 - Roleplay)

MDNI, 18+ ONLY Well, it's more interesting than grading papers. This work contains female/AFAB reader, teacher/student roleplay, established relationship, nipple/breast play, thigh riding, grinding, cum tasting, age gap, and seduction.

Enjoy!! Thanks to @djarrex for the Halloween divider!

Tick.

There’s not enough coffee to get her through tonight, Tess thinks with a despondent huff. She’s spent a lot of late nights in this office grading papers, sometimes even waking up to sunlight and the clang of church bells across the street from the university. It’s not a fun way to wake up, but she’s grown used to it after over a decade of teaching. She didn’t get tenure by phoning it in.

Right as her eyes start to drift shut, as she debates driving home exhausted or crashing on the couch in her office, there’s a light knock on her door. She might have missed it if there was anything else worth paying attention to, but the dozens of papers on various dynasties of China lost her interest a while ago.

“Come on in.”

The door opens and there she is- one of her morning students, perky little thing who sits in the front and asks half the questions. Tess used to be annoyed by students like that, thinking they were more annoying than anything, but for some reason this one's caught her eye. She's cute, sure, but at the least she doesn't ask stupid questions. They do exist, regardless of what other professors may say.

“Can I help you, kid?“

The girl glances around the office for a moment before smiling, shutting the door behind her as she steps inside.

”Hey Professor, I hope I'm not bothering you too much..."

“Not yet. Need something?”

She takes the seat on the other side of Tess' desk, wringing her hands for a moment. “Er, yeah, I- I wanted to talk about the grade on my latest paper.”

Tess turns away from her and cracks open one of her drawers, finding the girl's folder and flipping through until she pulls out a stapled essay. At the top, in red marker, is written “88/100 - GOOD WORK”. She hadn't passed out the annotated essays yet, but the girl must have seen it on her grades portal.

“Looks like you did pretty good. Eighty-eight isn't bad.”

“Yeah, well-” She looks up, hands fiddling with the edge of her camisole. “...it was just a little lower than I was hoping for. Is there anything I can do to bump up my grade a bit? Any extra credit, or something I can fix to get up to an A...?”

Tess raised an eyebrow, glancing back down at the paper. “You want extra credit to recover two points? You already have an A, don't you? I don't know if it would be worth the trouble.”

The student is flushed red when she looks back over to her. After a few long moments of eye contact, she rises from her seat, walking around the desk and leaning back on it. As she gets closer, Tess swallows, eyes falling to the firm nubs in her top.

No bra- bold move. But I guess if I had tits like that...

She's immediately ashamed of herself to be thinking like that about a student- even though she's an adult, she's still less than half Tess' age.

Jesus, she's still a fucking undergrad- what am I thinking?

The thought flies out of her mind as the student leans in.

“I really would like to fix my grade, professor. Is there anything I can do?”

Tess almost keels over when the student's hand brushes over her cheek, gentle enough to question if it's really there.

“...I might be able to work something out.“

They standoff for a few moments, Tess staring into the girl's eyes, trying to find the best way to phrase what are you aiming at, here? She doesn't want to ask, but she wants to know- if she looks just a bit lower, she'll get a good look into the girl's shirt, the angle just right. It takes everything in her to resist.

After a moment of hesitation, Tess' legs spread and she leans back into her chair, patting her thigh. “Well, come on, then. Earn it.”

For a moment she's terrified she's overstepped, misread the situation, messed everything up- but the student smiles. Tess is starstruck as the girl moves to straddle her, breasts now right in her face. It's shameful. It's hot.

When the girl reaches up to her neckline and pulls the camisole down below her breasts, Tess sighs, acknowledging it for what it is. The point of no return. She should be having a crisis about this, surely. She could lose her job, endanger the girl's grades, she could fuck things up for both of them. Not to mention the ethical ramifications of drooling over one of her 20-year-old students.

But god, who cares? There's a sexy girl in her lap and soft tits right in her face, and as she reaches around to squeeze the girl's ass, the last objections fly out of her. She'd been kidding herself to think she could resist this. Or that she should.

Her eyes stay on the girl's face as she leans in, taking one of the taut, rosy nipples between her lips. The girl sighs, a soft moan in the back of her throat. Tess flicks her tongue over it, one hand coming up to cup the other breast. She'd be lying if she said she hadn't admired the girl's tits in class once or twice- it was hard to resist with the tight shirts leaving little to the imagination. It was going to be hard to face the girl in class after this, knowing exactly what her skin tasted like and the sounds she made when someone worshipped her.

It didn't matter to her right now- the girl deserved to be worshipped.

She pulls away, a string of saliva dripping from the tip of her tongue to the soft, swollen nipple. Holding back a growl at the sight, she licks her lips and goes to nip at the bare skin of her other breast, leaving a little pink mark.

The student grabs her chin and tilts it up, leaning down for a harsh, hot kiss. Tess moans as she pulls away, backing off her lap and undoing her jeans.

After she kicks them across the room, she climbs back on, pink cotton panties squirming on Tess' thigh.

”There we go- ride my thigh, baby.“ She takes another nip of smooth skin, guiding the girl's hips on her thigh.

”Fuck, professor-“

“God, what a good girl. You like that? You like getting off on me? Fuck, I bet you could cum like this.” Her hands slide back to cup the girl’s perfect ass, pulling her closer. “Didn’t think my favorite student would be such a whore.”

The girl whines and grinds her clit on Tess’ thigh, head falling back to whimper at the ceiling.

“Jesus, you’re a sight. Is that how you keep your grades up? Flash your tits to your professors?”

She looks down, lips barely parted. “No, I swear-”

“Aw, you saying I’m special, pretty girl?”

She grits her teeth as Tess’ hand toys with the waistband of her panties, thumb sliding under the waistband as her hips rock back and forth.

Pressing a soft kiss to the girl’s pert breast, she grinds her thumb over her clit and grins at the sweet cries she gets in response.

“You’re already soaked, baby. Were you ready for me?”

The student nods, eye twitching as she rubs up against her professor’s fingers. “Been thinking about you for weeks, ma’am.”

Tess smirks. “Maybe you shoulda taken your hand out of your panties and spent more time studying.”

The girl lets out a loud, pornographic moan, gasping and arching her back forward as she peaks. The slick in her panties soaks through, leaving a wet spot on Tess’ pants as she whimpers through the afterglow. Pulling out of her underwear, Tess adjusts it to cover the girl’s pretty cunt before lifting her fingers to have a taste.

“Better keep your grades up, sweetheart. It’ll take more than a good show next time.”

The girl looks down, seductive eyes slowly fading to sleepy. She slumps over onto Tess, her Tessa, and wraps her arms around her woman’s neck.

“Fucking hell, Tess. That- we need to do that again.”

Tess chuckles a bit, hands running over her girlfriend’s back. “I could stand that, I think.”

“Oh, you could stand it?” One hand shifts to adjust her camisole, pulling it back over her tits. If there were any infected left in the abandoned university they’d found, the last thing she wanted was to be half naked. “So if I stripped you down and got on my knees, you wouldn’t be nice and wet for me?”

Tess blushes, tucking her face into her girlfriend’s neck. “Hush.”

They sit there for a moment, relaxed at the abandoned desk, hearts slowing until they beat together.

Hope you enjoyed! Comments put food on the table for my family c: Check out my about me, my masterlist, or my AO3!

#fanfiction #the last of us #tess servopoulos #tess x reader #tess servopoulos x reader #tess #tlou tess #tess servopoulos/reader #tess the last of us #tess/reader #x reader #kinktober 2023 #kinktober

[possibilistfanfiction]

world cup goals! footy au? Literally anything though, thank youuuuuu

[shoutout to katie mccabe & also everyone's suits. love this wc]

//

it took four years too long, but finally — finally — you get to watch ava in a world cup. you're, of course, the face of the nation, the captain, all the hopes of a repeat resting on your shoulders. this time, it feels light; it feels like a gift, to have people believe in you — to have people think you deserve their faith. you know, without a doubt, that you will play the best football you possibly can. when you answer ava's facetime just before she gets on the bus — so she can show you how she's opted to wear the team suit, perfectly tailored, a deep navy, without a shirt underneath it, mismatched earrings and an opal drop chain you'd gotten her a few months ago, because you saw it and knew she would love it — and she smiles, you know that you already have the faith of the most important person in the world.

when you watch from the conference room your team has reserved, your opening match not for two days still, but it counts as film studies, really, all things considered — lilith rolls her eyes but is currently curled up on the couch next to you in an oversized hoodie that smells suspiciously like camila's perfume — it fills your chest so immensely you don't know how you keep breathing for a moment. ava jumps the line with a grin, her socks slipping low and one side of her shorts already pulled up and tucked into her compression shorts, and you think you might burst.

the commentators mention her missed world cup last cycle, but they don't have much time to dwell on it because, only a few minutes in, ava brushes hair out of her face and lifts her hand, taking the first corner of the game. lilith rolls her eyes before it even happen, and joy — amusing, overwhelming happiness — fills you when ava hits a perfect olympico, one of her favorite set pieces to goof around with on the training ground. she's laughing, when her team runs over, when she turns to the fans screaming her name, when she holds up her hands in the shape of a heart to the camera.

'god, she's so insufferable,' lilith grumbles.

'are you grumpy because you haven't scored an olympico?'

'we haven't even played yet, beatrice.'

you shrug, reveling in ava's bright play all up and down the left side after the restart, the way she tracks back and holds the ball patiently, the exuberance and fearlessness of some of her overlapping runs. 'worried you won't win the golden boot this time around?'

'just about as worried as you are that you won't win the golden ball.'

ava whiffs — badly — on a cross and just accepts her teammates' good natured teasing, a playful shove to the shoulder as they gather themselves defensively before the goal kick. you wait a beat and then lilith giggles, literally giggles, and you can't help the laughter either.

'i am begging the football gods to show me a replay of that,' she says, already on twitter to see if anyone posted about it.

ava plays the rest of her pre-planned sixty minutes with the same fervor — cheerful, creative, fun. she nets another goal and lends an assist before she's subbed out, gets in two nutmegs, which you know she secretly enjoyed the most. she is a formidable opponent, and you've learned, by now, it's because of how she plays: light, everywhere.

she facetimes you after her presser, just as you're settling into bed. she looks so soft in a team-issued crew neck and tired, content eyes, her hair still damp from her post-game shower.

'did you enjoy that first goal?'

'well, that's one way to kick off your world cup tenure.'

she grins. 'you thought it was sexy.'

'unfortunately, i think just about everything you do is sexy.'

ava pouts. 'come on, bea. an olympico? in my first world cup match ever? please admit you loved it.'

'lilith hated it.'

ava barks a laugh, grins with teeth.

'and, of course, darling. i loved it. i love watching you play.'

she softens, immediately. you've gotten spoiled, getting to play club with her for so many years — there are few nights spent apart, and those are mostly because of national team camps or, a few rare occasions, when one of you has an overnight stay in the hospital following a procedure. you wish you could fall asleep with her now, you wish you could help calm her buzzing energy and that she could keep you warm.

as it is, though, you just lie down and listen to her talk about the ins and outs of the defensive formation they had to break down, the pivot sixes they're going to play against the next team in their group — 'to practice, honestly, for when we play you, which i shouldn't be telling you but whatever, you're so smart anyway. good luck to us.' — and how her lats have been so tight after training but felt better during pt tonight.

'hey,' she says, about to get off the bus, 'i'm going to let you go. you keep closing your eyes for longer and longer. you should get some sleep.'

you hum, fight to keep your eyes open just a little longer. 'i love watching you play.'

her mouth quirks up. 'jogo bonito, right?'

you want to kiss her; you will, just as soon as you can. 'jogo bonito, yes.'

'goodnight, bea.'

'make sure you take your pain meds before bed, and —'

'i know, babe,' she says, soft and gentle. 'i got it. thank you for reminding me.'

'always.'

'i love you,' she says.

'i love you too.'

'i'm gonna dream of you in your suit tonight.' ava laughs, waves, and hangs up.

you toss and turn a few minutes before you admit defeat and google ava silva world cup suit and stare at pictures online for a few minutes, and then put your phone aside on the charging pad and, with quite the image in your mind, fall fast asleep.

#wn #wn fic #avatrice #avatrice fic #footy au #this is just a gratuitous imagining of the two of them in wc suits tbqh which i figured yall wouldnt mind lol #thinking about the netherland's suits.... china's prada suits?? god. what a gift lol

[roosterforme]

Adult Education Part 21 | Hangman x OC

Summary: Jake works to secure his future with Jessica while also being supportive of her. She is dreading Brian's return to work, but she recognizes that she finally has the friends she deserves.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, drinking, language, 18+

Length: 4200 words

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female OC

This story is part of the Beer Boy and Sugar universe but can be read on its own! Adult Education masterlist

Seriously, who let Jake on my masterlist!? Banner by @mak-32

Jessica had never been hungover during the week before, but all the celebratory champagne and rough sex had definitely gone to her head a little bit. She groaned when she felt Jake's hand on her shoulder. "Baby, you have to get up," he said, voice hoarse next to her ear. "We have to go to work."

"Oh, god," she groaned, rolling over away from him. "No."

"You have to," he repeated. "It's your first day with tenure, Reedy. You have to go."

A smile spread across her lips in spite of her headache, and she whispered, "Tenure. I have tenure."

"You sure do," Jake drawled softly, and she finally opened her eyes to see him grinning at her. "If you get up now, I'll make you breakfast."

Her stomach growled so loudly they both laughed, and then she pouted playfully. "But I don't have a waffle iron."

He kissed her forehead. "No. But I do. And you told me you weren't going to renew your lease."

"I'm not," she whispered as her heart swelled with happiness. 

"Well, soon enough you'll have daily access to waffles," he whispered, kissing her just below her ear. "I guess I better start cleaning out my closet to make room for your lingerie collection."

Now she wanted to move in with him as soon as possible. She could already picture herself organizing all of her pretty pieces in his nice closet while modeling a few of them for him. She still had some things he'd never seen her in, and it was going to be so much fun to tease him. 

"Get up," he said, patting her butt as he climbed out of bed. "I'll make some eggs."

Jessica went through her morning routine only after taking some Advil, and she had to drink two mugs of coffee before she really felt human. She also left her apartment a good fifteen minutes after than she usually did. "You'll be late," she fretted, running toward her car which was parked next to Jake's truck. "You'll get in trouble."

"Nah," he replied, "Bradshaw will cover for me." He kissed Jessica as she tried to push him toward his truck, stumbling in her high heels.

"Go to work. Goodbye. I love you," she said quickly. "I'll see you tonight!" 

"See you tonight, tenured Dr. Reed," he called out as she climbed into her car and started the engine. 

Jessica barely had time to get to her office before she had to grab her notebooks and head back downstairs to give her first lecture of the day. But it felt so damn good to stand there in front of her students. Dr. Rosenthal wouldn't be stopping in, because he didn't need to. Because she had tenure. And now that her headache was virtually gone and the breakfast that Jake made was sitting nicely in her belly, she kind of felt like screaming about it from the rooftops. 

But she settled for screaming about it at lunchtime when she grabbed the little container of food Jake made and took it over to the math building. After one knock on her friend's office door, it swung open revealing a bright smile. Jessica screeched quietly and hugged her. 

"I have tenure," she whispered.

"Well, obviously," Advanced Calculus replied. "There was never any doubt in my mind."

Jessica set her lunch down on the desk while her friend closed the door. "I can't thank you enough for everything you did for me. Helping me set everything up with Rosenthal and giving up so much of your free time and everything," she gushed. "Just... thank you. And I hope you had a nice time at the library with Bradley."

She snorted in response as she opened her tie dye lunchbox. "Bradley had a great time at the library, as per usual. And once again, I don't think you appreciate how very much I want to see Brian go down like a sinking ship. In fact, I volunteered for another special project."

"What kind of project?" Jessica asked as she watched her friend dip a carrot stick into some hummus. 

"I can't talk about it quite yet. I have another meeting with Dean Walters in an hour, but I think it's a project that you'll fully support." Then she bit into the carrot like a woman who was in complete control of her surroundings, and Jessica couldn't think of a single reason why she couldn't be the same way.

"If you think I'll appreciate your new project, then I can't wait to hear about it later," she said, taking a bite of the delicious food Jake made for her. 

"I'll tell you all about it as soon as I can."

After lunch, Jessica took some time to gather her scattered notes to teach Brian's senior studies class for the last time. She learned as much about chemistry from the students as they had from her, and after she worked a few problems out on the board with them, she asked, "If you have any other questions for me, please let me know now. This is the last time I'll be covering this class."

"What do you mean?" one of the students asked, leaning forward in his seat. 

"Dr. Conley will be back for class next week," she explained, and then she heard an outraged sigh followed by some muttering. "It'll be okay though," she said in a tone she hoped was reassuring. "You've all been doing so well, and you're so close to graduation now!"

"But Dr. Conley doesn't even show up to class."

"He doesn't help us with anything."

"Is there any way you can stay until the end of the semester?"

"What about the practice problems you give us?"

The sudden influx of comments and questions made Jessica feel better and also so much worse at the same time. She let them all get their concerns out of their system before she said, "My office hours are always available for you. And you can still email me if you want to. I can even try to make more practice problems, but honestly, all of you are much better at chemistry than I am. Maybe you can run the class yourselves if Dr. Conley isn't here?"

She hated Brian. She actually still hated him. But more so for these students now than on her own behalf. They all looked concerned and apprehensive, and she spent another ten minutes talking to them until they were calm enough to head to their next class. She wished she could finish teaching them for the rest of the semester, and she decided she would ask Dean Walters if there was any chance she could teach her own senior studies class for physics majors next school year.

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

Jake was already home and showered with dinner in the oven, eating some chips on the couch while he waited for Jessica. He was keeping a running tally of things he still needed to give her since he'd already willingly handed over his heart. His spare key was sitting next to his feet which were propped up on the coffee table. He had already cleaned out half of his closet and consolidated his stuff to make some room. And he wanted to pay for the flights to Massachusetts and Texas for her once she approved the dates. 

When his phone lit up with a text letting him know she was here, he ran down to her car in just his sweatpants and slippers with his spare key ring looped around his finger. "Did you have a good day?" he asked, taking her overnight bag from her hand as she locked her car.

"I did," she replied quietly. "I left so late, because I talked to the dean about teaching my own senior studies class next term."

"And?"

She smiled as they walked to his condo. "He said it's a good possibility now that I have tenure."

"There's nothing you can't do." Jake kissed her and pressed the key ring into her hand.

"What's this?" she asked, looking at it as she stood outside the front door. "Oh!" She slipped it into the lock and let them both inside as she blushed. "You want me to have it now? Even though I'm not moving in quite yet?"

"Please," he replied as he walked inside, his eyes catching on the print of his jet that she gave him for his birthday. "You can come and go as you want, but I hope you'll be here more often than not."

Jake watched as she took her keys out again and added his ring to them. "Thank you." She was fiddling with them a little bit when she looked up at him as she stepped out of her high heels. "Brian will be back tomorrow," she said softly. "That's what Dr. Rosenthal told me when I ran into him. And if he doesn't know I have tenure by now, he'll find out soon enough."

Jake collected her in his arms. "He can't do anything about it now, Reedy. It's a done deal. And unless you fuck up spectacularly at work, which you definitely won't, he's not entitled to say anything about it."

She nodded against him. "I know that. I do know that, but I still don't want to have to see him and hear his stupid, condescending voice complain about me."

He pressed his nose to her hair and kissed her before he whispered, "You wear your tenure like a shield. And if he can't figure out how to shut his mouth, you let me know, and I'll be there in an instant."

Jessica shivered in his arms. "That shouldn't sound as sexy as it does. You know..." she mused, "none of this would have happened if you hadn't punched Brian in the face the first time. So I guess I really have you to thank."

"How so?" Jake asked as he led her to the kitchen where the oven timer was going off. 

"You punched Brian, and then his wife saw his messed up face. And then she came to campus looking for answers and found him with the teaching assistant. And then he took a leave of absence." When Jake set down the baking dish and glanced over his shoulder, she was smiling brightly. "Jake, you literally saved my career with your fist!"

He shrugged and shook off his oven mitts. "All I did was punch someone who was trying to intimidate my girlfriend. I'll do it again if I have to. Now, would you like some parmesan cheese sprinkled on top of your dinner?" he asked as he cut into the casserole. He ended up with Jessica in his arms. 

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

Jessica heard the whispers all day on Thursday. If Dr. Rosenthal hadn't told her that Brian was coming back, she would have chalked it up to everyone at the university being addicted to their daily gossip, but she half expected to see him lurking around every corner. She kind of wanted to go right to Brian's office, knock on the door and tell him that she got tenure just to get it over with. But when she thought about seeing his face, she shook her head in disgust. 

She hadn't heard much from Jake all day, and Advanced Calculus was scarce as well. But when she went to the lounge to make a sad cup of coffee before her office hours started, the teaching assistant that Brian had been sleeping with was in there along with another one that Jessica wasn't familiar with. They must not have seen her at first as they were clearly talking about Brian.

"He looks terrible, honestly. Like he hasn't slept. I'm sure he's going to ask me if I want to mess around again, especially since his wife left."

"I don't know. I heard he's actually pretty upset that she took the kids. But I really want to know who broke his nose in the first place."

Jessica considered sneaking back out of the room, but it was too late. They had seen her, and they both snapped their mouths closed. Had Sabrina Conley really taken their kids? Was she gone for good? Jessica thought she'd probably be better off without her husband. She also wanted to ask the TA if she knew Brian was married when they were messing around before, but it was really none of her business. 

"Hi," she greeted evenly, strolling toward the coffee maker. The only sound in the small room was her high heels tapping against the floor as she walked. But neither of them said a word in response before they turned and left. Maybe they were embarrassed about being caught talking about Brian, or maybe Jessica still had a bad reputation in the science department. Either way, she was going to take her coffee upstairs and wait for Luca to stop by before spending the night cuddled up with Jake. 

When she finished stirring her drink and turned toward the door, she almost spilled her coffee all over herself. "Brian," she gasped, taking an awkward step backwards so her hip hit the edge of the counter a bit painfully. He looked so angry, she immediately felt like her heart was going to explode out of her chest as her nerves took over. 

"Call me Dr. Conley," he snapped, and she could feel her face flushing with embarrassment as she stood there silently. 

Jessica's hands shook as she tried to walk to the door, but he didn't budge from his spot blocking her exit path. "Excuse me," she said, trying her best to sound stronger than she felt. 

"I don't even want to know how badly your lesson plans have gone off course over the past few weeks," he practically growled. "You're going to need to schedule a meeting with me to go over everything. The sooner the better."

"No."

Brian looked surprised by her response. "Yes," he replied with a sarcastic laugh. "I know you think you really did something special by getting that asshole to punch me in the face, but your days here are fucking numbered. Understand?"

"No," Jessica repeated as Jake's voice in her mind kept telling her to wear her tenure like a shield. Plus, she could clearly picture the paperwork she signed with Dr. Rosenthal since she read over it a dozen times. "I don't have to answer to you about my curriculum choices any longer."

He laughed. "Okay, so now you're unreliable, slutty, and stupid?"

"I have tenure," she said firmly, gripping the coffee a little tighter while his eyes bugged out in anger. 

He shook his head. "You can't get tenure unless you get it through me," he snarled.

Jessica looked at his crooked nose and miserable expression, and if she wasn't on the verge of tears, she might have laughed. "You can ask Dean Walters for a copy of my signed paperwork. And if you have concerns about my curriculum, then you can take it up with him." She tried to duck past him through the doorway, certain her resolve was almost gone now. 

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Brian demanded loudly, and she jumped back. "Explain yourself right fucking now."

"Dr. Conley!" came a familiar voice from the hallway, and then Dr. Rosenthal was poking his head in the lounge door. "You shouldn't be raising your voice like that to Dr. Reed, especially since you're on probation."

"Probation?" Jessica whispered, and Brian's face soured further.

"Mind your own business, Rosenthal," he snapped, and under his breath he added, "you should have retired a decade ago."

"Yes. Probation," came another familiar voice as Advanced Calculus strolled in with a notebook in her hand like she hadn't a care in the world. She stopped right in front of Brian with her back to Jessica, acting almost like a buffer. "He's in a lot of trouble," she said in a voice that bordered on teasing, and Brian's face grew pink.

"What do you mean?" Jessica whispered, and the other woman smirked at her over her shoulder.

"He's on probation for a history of behavioral issues, and I volunteered to be his probation officer of sorts," she replied before turning back toward Brian. "Don't forget, Dean Walters asked to check in with me on Tuesdays and Thursdays. And I'll be dropping by your classes to make sure you actually show up to them. Oh, and I'll have to add to my report that you raised your voice to a professor with tenure while she was just trying to make a cup of coffee." She tapped her notebook. "It's not looking good, Brian."

Jessica watched Dr. Rosenthal shuffle away after he cleared his throat, and Brian spun on his heel to follow suit. "Is this for real?" Jessica asked, looking around the room to try and tell if she was in a dream.

"Yep. He's my new volunteer project. I think Dean Walters could just tell that I have a lot of experience taming fuckboys. But Brian takes the cake, let me tell you. He's been skipping out on his classes to meet up with different women."

Jessica adjusted her glasses and looked at the floor as she whispered, "I never missed my classes when he and I were...."

"Of course not," she said blandly. "That's why you were given tenure instead of being put on probation. You actually do your job. He doesn't. Now, I was thinking about Chippy's tomorrow night? Kind of a celebration?"

Jessica just blinked at her. "A celebration for what?"

"You! A tenure party! Fratraiser part deux as Bradley has been calling it. You know what, I'll take care of the whole thing. Don't even stress about it."

Jessica had been planning on spending the weekend cleaning out her apartment before she started to move a few things to Jake's place. But going out for a bit could be fun. She had more friends in San Diego now than she ever dreamed she would. "What were you thinking? Like a double date?"

"Something like that," she replied with a twinkle in her eye. "How about tomorrow night at eight?"

"Let me check with Jake," she said right away.

"Oh, Jake already knows."

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

"We'll just stay for a little bit and then head home again," Jessica whispered as she and Jake made their way slowly from his truck to Chippy's. He was fucking obsessed with the way she just called his condo home. He was obsessed with everything about her as he pressed her up against the side of Chippy's out on the sidewalk. She'd let him dress her for the night by turning it into a game, and he had chosen a black lace bodysuit paired with a mini skirt and denim jacket.

"I made a mistake," he whispered, voice rough with need as he let his hand slip underneath the skirt. Then he moaned, "A huge mistake."

She laughed as he bumped her glasses with his nose while he kissed her ear. "Did you?"

Jake was uncomfortably hard in his jeans. "Baby, I really want to fuck you. And your outfit is not helping," he added as he squeezed her bare thigh.

"That's your fault," she whispered with a grin while he whined. "Seriously, we'll just stay for a drink or two. It'll be like a double date. And then we can do whatever you want, okay?"

Jake took her hand in his, kissed her fingers and said, "On the way home, you're ordering those toys from that dirty website you found. I think we need all of them."

He could tell she was blushing in the darkness by the warmth of her cheeks against his lips. "Okay," she agreed softly, and Jake had to adjust himself in his jeans before they could walk inside. 

"Holy shit," he gasped when a crowd of people cheered Congratulations! to his girlfriend. Bradshaw's wife didn't mention there would be this many people in attendance. He saw Bradshaw with his backwards hat and hideous tie dye shirt with his arms wrapped around his wife, but all of the other aviators were there, too. Jake spotted a much older man in a sweater vest sipping a beer, and he assumed that must have been Rosenthal. And of course someone had invited Dev.

"You okay?" Jake asked Jessica as she just stood next to him with happy tears in her eyes. She nodded and sniffed as she read the banner that was hanging above Chippy behind the bar. 

CONGRATS, REEDY!

"Yeah, I'm okay," she whispered, burying herself against Jake as he wrapped his arm around her. "I'm just surprised so many people cared enough to be here."

"Don't cry, Jess!" Bradley shouted over the music and conversation as his wife headed over. "It's a happy occasion! It's not like you're in a relationship with Jake or something horrible. Oh... wait...."

Jake shot him a nasty look while he laughed hysterically, and he watched Jessica hug everyone in attendance, thanking all of them individually for coming to her party. Jake briefly wrapped his arms around her and kissed her as he asked, "You want a Sam Adams, Baby?"

"Yes," she replied, but then she added, "but I want to thank Chippy, too." And with that, Jessica walked right behind the bar and gave the grouchy bar owner a hug, and Jake saw a rare smile break out on his face. "Thank you for always welcoming me here," she told him softly while Jake leaned on the bar. "I felt safe here when I didn't really feel safe anywhere else."

Chippy patted her on the head and then started to push her away as he got a little emotional himself. "You're always welcome here, Reedy," he told her before he started to reach for some bowls to fill them with peanuts, and Jessica walked back around the bar and into Jake's arms. Chippy poured a few beers, and set them down in front of Jake as he growled, "So I guess you're sticking around then?"

"Looks that way," Jake replied, leaning down to kiss Jessica's cheek. "Until this one comes to her senses."

"I told you I wouldn't," she replied with a laugh. Then she turned to Chippy and said, "He's not so bad. And he's sweet to me."

"Then I guess he can stay," Chippy replied with a shrug, still glaring slightly. 

Jake picked up two beers and led the way to a table near the others while Jessica carried the peanuts. "I think he finally tolerates me," Jake boasted. 

"It only took you several months," she replied with a smirk. "Chippy didn't fall for your charms as quickly as I did."

Jake set the beers down next to the peanuts and pulled Jessica closer to him. "You made me work hard for it. Ever since the first night I met you when you brought me here for a three dollar beer."

She reached up and raked her fingers through his hair. "I had to know for sure. That you really wanted me."

Jake kissed her rough on the lips right in front of everyone. "I need you, Jessica," he promised, making her smile. "I love you."

"Okay, that's enough of that," Bradshaw's wife said, clapping her hands to get everyone's attention. "I just have a few words I want to say." She looked a little emotional as she started. "Jessica, you've become one of my very best friends in just a few short months. I know that your time at San Diego State started off a little rocky for you, and I'm sincerely sorry from the bottom of my heart that I didn't take the time to get to know you last semester when you really needed a friend in your corner. You're one of the kindest and smartest people I have ever met in my life."

Jake held Jessica as she looked like she was about to cry. "I'm the one who should be saying nice things to you!" she replied, swiping at her tears behind her glasses. "You've done so much to help me."

"And you've done so much by taking Jake off our hands for us," Bradley added loudly as everyone started laughing. 

"That's fair," Jake admitted with a grin as he pressed his lips to Jessica's hair.

Then Bradshaw's wife lifted her pint glass in the air, and everyone else did as well. "Congratulations on your tenure, Dr. Reed!"

The bar erupted in loud cheers, and Bradley shook up a bottle of champagne. Jake spent the rest of the night kissing the sticky sweetness from Jessica's face and making sure Dev kept his hands to himself. He made sure his girlfriend always had a Sam Adams in her hand and that her denim jacket was neatly buttoned over that bodysuit that he was dying to get his hands on. 

He didn't mind sharing Jessica with everyone else for the evening, especially since she'd made such a good friend in Bradshaw's wife. But much later, when Jessica turned and looked at him while she intentionally unbuttoned her jacket, he was more than ready to get her alone. 

"Take me home, Jake," she said sweetly, reaching for his hand. "I'm ready to go home."

He kissed her lips and wrapped his arms around her. "Let's get out of here, Smart Girl."

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

I hope you loved reading this as much as I have loved writing it! There will not be just one, but TWO epilogues! Stay tuned for those and pegging! Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 22

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#jake hangman seresin x oc #jake seresin x oc #jake seresin fic #jake seresin fanfiction #jake hangman seresin fanfiction #jake hangman fic #hangman fic #hangman imagine #jake seresin imagine #hangman x oc #jake hangman imagine #jake hangman seresin x reader #hangman fanfiction #jake hangman seresin #top gun imagine #top gun maverick imagine #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfiction #roosterforme #adult education

[writethrough]

You Mean the World

(Lucifer Morningstar x Female Reader)

Synopsis: Lucifer gets a call that there was a murder at your workplace. He's never been more terrified.

Warnings: Mention of murder, suggestive situation (barely), drinking (Reader is 21+)

Word Count: 2071

A/N: It's official, my first fic is up! I hope you enjoy it! I'd love to hear what you think!

You weren’t answering his texts.

Sure, he knew you were busy with your classes, but it never took you more than an hour to respond. Even if it was a quick thumbs up to pacify him, you always got back to him.

“Lucifer,” Chloe said. “We’ve gotta go.”

“A new case, detective?” he asked, trying to give his usual enthusiasm.

“Possible homicide at the university.”

His body felt hot and cold at the same time. His fingers icy and heart pounding as he raced out of the station with Chloe barely keeping up.

Every scenario seemed to pass through his head in the blink of an eye. You stabbed, shot, bludgeoned, bruised. Maybe pushed down a staircase or even out a window. In each vision you had suffered so much pain, and he couldn’t protect you.

He tried to take a calming breath. They knew nothing about the victim yet. It may not be you. Maybe you were holed up in your office or grabbing a coffee with your coworker. Maybe you weren’t aware there had been a murder in the first place. Maybe you were still safe.

Maybe you weren’t.

—

Six months ago, you and your friends had wandered into Lux. You had just made tenure and your coworkers insisted on taking you out to celebrate.

It was your first time in the club, but your closest friend, Gemma, assured you this was the spot for any occasion. Though, she always was one for a good party.

“Alright, Miss Tenure, your assignment tonight is to let loose!” Gemma cheered, holding out a shot for you.

As an answer, you downed the drink, grinning as the rest of your group followed suit.

The night was filled with dancing, more drinking, and a bit of flirting. Thankfully, the two guys that approached you backed off once you said you weren’t interested.

You were pleasantly buzzed by the time Lucifer spotted you. You were smiling and laughing as two of your friends twirled each other. The heels you wore were bothering you, so you were sitting, happy that your coworkers were letting off the stress of the semester.

You hadn’t even noticed him come up beside you until he spoke.

“Is this seat taken?” He gestured with a finger toward the chair beside you.

You recognized him right away. After all, it wasn’t everyday you read an article about a man named Lucifer Moringstar.

“Does the owner really have to ask to have a seat?” you quipped.

He chuckled. “He does when he’s actually interested in who’s in the seat beside him.”

And you weren’t sure if it was his looks or the accent or the confidence he gave off, but you let him.

It was one of the best decisions you ever made.

For the entirety of the night, you talked. He found you captivating and vice versa. He flirted, of course, but he was also clever. And Lord help you when a man was smart and charming, and funny, and sexy, and—

Needless to say, you were smitten by the end of the night. You hadn’t realized your friends had steered clear of your table until Gemma interrupted you asking if you wanted to share a ride with her.

You hoped you hid your disappointment well, but it didn’t matter how attracted you were to Lucifer, talking was as far as you were going tonight.

He was a little deflated when you said you had to leave, but when you pulled a pen from your bag and jotted your number on a napkin, he nearly jumped for joy.

He had kissed you on the cheek, and you left the club a blushing mess. And when you received a text a half hour later that said, “Hope you got home safe,” your heart warmed. Smart, charming, funny, sexy, and sweet.

You started texting everyday, and the following weekend, he asked you out. Soon you were official and sleeping over at each others’ places.

Once, after being thoroughly taken care of by Lucifer, you laid in your bed, his head on your chest, running the tips of your fingers over his scalp.

It was peaceful, the kind that so rarely occurred.

“Can I tell you something,” he whispered, thumb grazing your ribs.

“Anything,” you said, simply.

“I love it here,” he said, nuzzling into the crook of your neck. “I love being in your home. It’s…It’s warm. It’s completely and utterly you…and I love it.”

You kissed the top of his head. You knew exactly what he meant. His penthouse comforted you. Everything in it was entirely him and when you were within those walls, it was like nothing could ever touch you.

But there was something about him being in your space. He fit so well amongst your plush couch and cream-colored bedspread. It was like the picture you were trying to paint was finally complete.

“I love when you’re here, too,” you said. And because it felt right, because it felt easy, you continued, “I love you.”

You felt his smile against your collarbone. “I love you, too.”

Afterward, you both seemed to say those three little words all the time. And even though Lucifer was ready to shout it from the rooftop, you had asked if he was okay with keeping your relationship private. Between his reputation within LA culture—personal and professional—and your career, you wanted to have one aspect of your life that was completely yours. No outside opinions allowed.

Lucifer agreed, but to say he kept his mouth shut wouldn’t have been true. He couldn’t help it though, he was proud of you. Of everything you’d accomplished, of calling you his, he was practically buzzing to tell Chloe little bits about you and rub it in Dan’s face that you were the most amazing woman in the universe—present company excluded, of course. Though, neither Chloe nor Ella seemed to mind if their amused smirks were anything to go by. 

To his credit, Lucifer never revealed anything that would go against your wishes. He mostly raved about your sense of humor, your intelligence, and your appearance.

He was totally, completely, and irrevocably in love with you.

—

When they arrived at the scene, all he could see was a crowd outside the police tape. Students, professors, and staff gathered to get a glimpse of the corpse.

Ella was photographing the victim's face—a woman.

Lucifer’s breath hitched.

What shoes had you put on this morning? He couldn’t remember. Did you own a pair of maroon flats? Why couldn’t he remember what you had been wearing?

For a moment, he couldn’t take his eyes away from the victim. It was only when he caught Dan’s voice that his gaze strayed.

Then he could breathe again.

There. Talking to the walking bore, you stood, a blanket draped around your shoulders.

He didn’t register he’d been moving until he was right in front of you, pulling you to him and burying his face in your neck.

—

You sunk into Lucifer’s embrace. It had been a shock to find your coworker lifeless beside the fountain. However, you counted yourself lucky it wasn’t one of the students who discovered her.

Lucifer gripped you tighter as you inhaled shakily. The adrenaline still coursed through you, but you knew when you eventually dropped, he’d be there to steady you.

He reluctantly pulled back, cupping your face.

“Are you alright, darling?” he asked, searching your eyes.

“I’m not hurt,” you said. It wasn’t a lie. Physically, you were fine.

He nodded, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead.

Someone cleared their throat.

“Excuse me, but how do you two know each other?” Detective Espinosa asked, not bothering to mask his surprise.

“We’re dating,” Lucifer said, not taking his eyes off you.

“That’s why you booked it out of the station,” a woman said, having already spoken with the forensic analyst.

You could only imagine what had been running through Lucifer’s head.

“When you didn’t answer my texts, I…well I…” He swallowed, and you intertwined your fingers and nodded. He didn’t have to finish.

“I’m sorry for worrying you,” you whispered.

He shook his head. “You found the body, didn’t you?”

You nodded, realizing you had been in the middle of giving your statement before Lucifer showed up.

“Do you have any more questions, detective?” you asked.

“No. Go home and rest. If we need anything else, well, at least we know how to contact you,” Detective Espinosa said, glancing at Lucifer.

“I’ll be going with her, detective,” Lucifer said to the woman—Chloe, if you were to guess.

“Of course.” She turned to you. “I’m sorry this is how we had to be introduced.”

“Me too. But at least I know you’ll find who did this,” you said. You had celebrated more closed cases with Lucifer than not. If the murderer was going to be brought to justice, it’d be by this team.

She gave you a small smile. “Take some time for yourself. We’ll update you as soon as we can.”

You thanked her before Lucifer led you toward your office to collect your things and drove you back to his penthouse.

Maze seemed to sense your state because she brought up a bottle of top-shelf bourbon, squeezed your shoulder, and left without a word.

You stayed as close to Lucifer as possible, only separating to slip into comfortable shorts and one of his rarely used t-shirts. You were pretty sure he only bought them and put them on so you’d wear them.

“Are you hungry? Can I get you anything?” he asked, rubbing your arm.

You shook your head as best you could as it rested on his chest.

You weren’t hungry, you weren’t really anything. You thought you’d feel something. There was the initial shock, the flash of fear and worry of the murderer lingering on campus and the students safety, but then nothing.

The victim was your coworker. Not someone in your department, but you saw her almost everyday walking to class. A fixture in your routine.

“I keep waiting to feel something,” you whispered.

His thumb stopped its movement for a second then resumed.

“I just…I know how I’m supposed to feel, but I’m just…not,” you said.

“Everyone processes grief differently. You will go at the pace you need,” he said.

“I know that, I do, but…it feels wrong that I’m not crying or angry or confused.” You sighed. “Of course I’m angry in the general sense—someone was killed—but I don’t feel any anger.” You fisted the shirt Lucifer changed into, acknowledging at that point that you were still shaking. “And yet my body seems to be feeling what it should.”

Lucifer placed his hand over yours.

“I can’t tell you how scared I was when we got the call,” he said. “All I could think about was you, gone, and every way I could get you back even if it was the last thing I did.”

You shifted so you could meet his gaze. Remnants of fear. The what-ifs bounced around in his head.

“I’m right here,” you said, cupping his cheek.

“I know.” He kissed your palm, then continued to rub your shoulder. “I’m always here if you need me. I could even set up an appointment with Linda if you’d like.”

You couldn’t help the small smile. “Wouldn’t that be a conflict of interest? You being a client and having slept with her?”

He shrugged. “Something tells me she’ll be fine with it.”

You chuckled. “Cheeky devil,” you said affectionately.

“Well, of course, darling.” He grinned, pulling you closer.

You sighed and snuggled into him.

“Get some sleep, love. I’ll be right here when you wake up,” he whispered, already feeling your body sink into him.

You hummed, and a few minutes later, you were out.

—

Lucifer watched you, afraid to look away after every dark thought that raced through him.

You were safe.

He repeated it. Safe. Safe. Safe.

He focused on your breathing. The softness of your cheek pressing into his chest. The curve of your shoulder. You were in his arms, and you were safe.

He inhaled, took all of that knowledge with him, held it there, and then exhaled. It calmed him. Brought him back to the present.

It had only been six months, but you had become everything to him. His entire world laid beside him, and he’d be damned again if he let anything harm you.

#lucifer morningstar #lucifer x reader #lucifer on netflix #lucifer fanfiction #lucifer tv #lucifer x y/n #Lucifer Morningstar fanfiction #Lucifer fanfic #Lucifer x you

[vermillioncrown]

an actual AU snippet: a number of different selves

bc @rozaceous and i keep teehee-ing about 'folie a deux' and aaaaall the au's we have for our dc-siocs

money where the mouth is: bonus snippet + concept for followers

(it'll prob just be like my longer mdzs au's with one written part and the rest is just back and forth)

impetus: roz and i saw a shitpost where someone laughed at "bruce wayne x reader divorce" and said "he's already going through it and people are really inserting themselves in the narrative just to divorce him lmao"

which we then joked "damn we'd be set. he could have whatever mistress he wants as long as we could have financial support and leave us alone. we'll play his trophy wife"

and then we both realized that there would be things we couldn't let go if we ever caught wind of it. like it would drive us insane to abide by it. and thus...a version of our si's w bruce (yeah you heard me, both of us)

so here's a thing, bonus only for tumblr🙂

“I put you two in that meeting to clear up any hard feelings,” Lucius stares dead-on at his screen. He tries very hard not to pinch the bridge of his nose—composure needs to be maintained. “It can’t have gone that poorly.”

“Time is a finite resource for us lowly mortals and I’m not getting that hour back,” Vivienne grits out. “A fucking PA—where does he get off on his high horse? I hope he explodes.”

What?

“—know how many people work here, Lucius? Let alone just my division? And you’re wasting everyone’s time with each dead-on-arrival concept that gets shuffled into our portfolio and then ‘mysteriously’ yanked when it’s just good enough to Frankenstein into whatever high school science project that’s hiding in some Gotham sewer tunnel.” Her tirade is caustic and not hidden behind the typical red lipstick smiles. “Morale is dipping. There’s only so much you can pay to keep mouths shut and stop turnover.”

Vivienne makes very good points—the fact she has the acumen even three years ago was why WanyeTech moved to fund her PhD and fast-tracked her as a technical director upon entering the workforce. She caught on very quickly—too quickly—that there were private uses of certain advanced concepts within R&D, and she cared. Fortunately for WayneTech, her diligence meant increase in efficiency for the company; they’ve won several bids that have extended their reach into two new industries.

(Fortunately, WayneTech is privately held and not subject to public shareholder scrutiny.)

Unfortunately for the Batman, it meant additional roadblocks for his tools and supplies. It was by God’s grace, or something, that Vivienne didn’t decide to either blackmail them or whistle-blow. What she argued for was more oversight and appropriate man-hours and billing for certain projects that went towards a ‘private use case.’ The willingness to help (out of logistical fury) took a load off Lucius’s shoulders, but it put two new headaches in his skull: one next to each ear every time Vivienne or Bruce complained about each other peripherally.

“Does His Dark Grace think he’s not subject to g-forces?”

“Lucius. I asked for four different configurations. It should be able to fit.”

“Love his idealism—of course we have the manufacturing tolerances of an ant colony!”

“This is over-redundant and unnecessary. It gets in the way of visibility. I need a design change by two weeks.”

...and so on, so forth. So Lucius decided to cut himself out as the middleman and make the two talk to each other. A direct stakeholder meeting to capture requirements and fulfill proposals, so to speak in company terms. As both Bruce’s long-standing friend and Vivienne’s superior for her tenure at the company, he’s in the unique position to see the similarities in their personalities and (perhaps foolishly) believed they would get along after candid discussion.

And somehow, it all went to hell in a hand basket. That’s probably on Lucius for forgetting that adults were equally susceptible to playground scrapping as his six-year-old son. Thankfully, there’s less physical dirt involved or impromptu weapons, even if Vivienne looks ready to rip her stiletto heels off to use as a real stiletto.

“Vi, what do you need me to give?” Lucius straightens and prepares to negotiate. The greatest vulnerability of adding good talent is having more people in the know. Loose ends. It’d be a blow to lose Vivienne, but as long as she doesn’t talk—

“He’s lucky he’s a net good,” she snarls, now pacing in front of his desk. “He’s fucking lucky city statistics are on his side.”

“Vivienne.”

She stops mid-rant. “What.”

“Are you terminating our agreement?”

Vivienne takes a few calming breaths before rearranging her stance into something more office-appropriate rather than riled up before taking part in an illicit cage match. “No, Chief Fox. I am not,” she answers with a placid smile, tone light and even.

“Then, what would make your life easier?” Lucius does understand that she’s doing them a huge favor at an equally huge cost from herself. There’s a lot of duties that are more effort and well-beyond what someone her pay grade should need to touch; the delicate situation requires her to be equal parts every role for end-to-end conceptual design to manufacturing.

When Lucius scouted Vivienne Yang from her undergrad in Gotham University, it was by chance—there were technical managers scouting and giving PR for various capstone projects, and he decided to tag along. There, as he was browsing various posters, is where he found her. The work done by her team wasn’t novel (just par for the course with undergraduate engineers), but it was the polish that caught his eye. A methodical approach to answering the prompts given by the capstone courses, justified scope, and structured analysis and design choices that made her team’s final concept (proposed electric car design) stand out. Their value proposition considered necessary support infrastructure and manufacturing as part of their considerations.

He called them ‘her team’ because it was clear that, despite being barely 5’6” with pointed choice of footwear and surrounded by young men over a head taller with the typical engineers’ mannerisms to boot, she called the shots. Oh, of course, her teammates contributed to the questions he asked (”Andy,” young-Vivienne barked, and Team Member Andy jumped in to answer about the drivetrain sizing), but she was the systems integrator.

This was the type of skill that took years to build—usually, years of practical experience on the job—and she had it as intuition. And when Lucius corrected certain assumptions on their design, she didn't take it personally but was instead able to promptly speculate how that would shift their design point.

Thus, he put out an immediate sponsorship for her to grab an advanced degree (or two), school of her choice, research topic to be approved by whatever technical manager in WayneTech that acted as her liaison, and would jump into a stable job with a salary and employee benefits other grad students could only dream of.

Landing something as prestigious as Director of Advanced Concepts, slated for Chief Technology Officer by her 30s, in a Fortune 500 company? Barring the fact that the work was based in Gotham, crime capital of the United States, it would be something like pure fantasy to any aspiring engineer.

She took the sponsorship offer, and Lucius learns over the years that she financially supports her family living out-of-state and genuinely enjoys the various industries that intersect within WayneTech’s R&D. She likes a job well done, is practical and professional (if not overly enthused) when defense-related bids come across their table, and disdains many of the big research or tech conglomerates that make the news for various crimes or “waste of brain cells and human effort.”

Her morals aren’t obvious, but Vivienne’s choice to support Lucius’s efforts to protect Bruce in his uphill crusade is her character vouching for the Batman, even if she dislikes the actual man behind the mask and his design requirements. That she considers it still of worth is something that Lucius needs to compensate her for.

Lord knows had Bruce actually gone through with that projectile design, he’d have already lost an eye. If Vivienne says his proposed ‘Batplane’ design will vibrate into smithereens, he’s inclined to trust her on that.

“I’m going to start calling him an idiot and vetoing stupid requirements,” Vivienne declares, one eyebrow raised like she’s daring him to object.

“You mean you haven’t been doing that already?”

“Lucius, I have been nothing but polite to him. You have the CCs,” she refutes, looking at him incredulously.

He’s not sure by whose standards her scathing emails can be considered ‘polite’, but of course she can be worse. He needs to smooth this out, redo the first meeting ASAP. His hairline can’t take more of this.

“Fine, alright. Just—let’s try to set up another discussion. I’ll attend this time.”

Vivienne actually snorts. “Guess I’m never beating the PA allegations.” She looks down at her watch. “Fuck. Should have just written you an angry email. How am I going to make it five blocks in ten minutes?” She mutters and just as suddenly as she invaded his office, she strides out with a distracted, “Okay thanks, I’ll continue this later.”

He’d rather she not, but it seems she’s sticking around the Wayne Enterprises HQ building to call into her upcoming meeting; he hears her requesting a fresh notepad, a hot cup of coffee, and a private conference room and everyone outside honors those requests immediately.

That’ll give Lucius about two hours to process Vivienne’s rant, track down Bruce for his side of the story, and figure out how to smooth things out. It shouldn’t be unreasonable.

His phone call to Bruce shatters his expectations.

“You called Director Yang my what?”

#on ands #phd-verse #verm bits #<- new tags #will be backtagging stuff #folie a deux #the amount of stupid-ass acronyms we have now #tpac. aseh. hlwi. tpil. whfagt. ttbh. tdog. tbokk. all the ones that roz has yet to name on her end #and now...passing it onto roz!

[thefalloutwiki]

Same Anon who asked about the Tandi quote. Thank you for the insight and understanding. Lots of posts online get very inflammatory or blown out of proportion and many folk are reactionary. I've only (so far) seen negative feedback on the independent wiki and some (without context) rumor of "drama"

So when said post crossed my dash I looked for the best version of it I could find (to express my concerns and avoid just pure negativity) to send to this blog as I have only ever gotten kind and thoughtful replies to the asks I've seelnt before.

Thank you for this, and thank you for what work you put into this wiki. I hope to be able to contribute in some fashion myself, as online resources now owned by marketing groups like Fandom are an important bastion of the internet.

Thank you, that means a lot to me! Really.

I've dealt with some negative reception in my 1-year tenure as the wiki's community manager (which involves social media posts), but I have tried to move past it! What matters is that we feel the work we're doing as beneficial to the community.

Every time I rewrite an article, I feel accomplished, as does the rest of the team. Fundamentally, we differ a lot from the the Fandom wiki. Speculation and theories are definitely a big part of the Fallout franchise, but for me and for us, we're always trying to inform the reader; not influence them. Objectivity is key.

When I write content for the wiki, I always I'm giving the reader all that they need to draw their own conclusion based on what's in front of them. I especially extended this to the LGBTQ Representation in Fallout page! I made sure not to assume a character was a certain sexuality because sexuality is incredibly fluid, which is something I've learned in relation to my own sexuality and identity as well.

Miranda Song, a character in Fallout 4, mentions that she became romantically involved with a woman who promised to "take [her] away from all this." This is really good WLW representation! But I never assume or put a label on her sexuality. She could be bisexual, lesbian or pansexual; I don't know which and that's okay! Even being queer myself, I worry about giving the wrong impression, but I hope what I said makes sense.

#fallout wiki #independent fallout wiki #fallout #fallout series #lgbtq #fallout 1 #fallout wiki ask

[allthoseotherworlds]

I think I can tolerate the bigeneration thing in-universe if the 14th doctor, after dealing with his issues or whatever, ends up merging back into the 15th doctor somehow, like a closed loop. I still don't think it makes that much sense really, but I could tolerate it.

I've also seen theories that 14 becomes the Curator, which I like except that it doesn't explain how 15 has already dealt with his issues by making 14 hang out with the Noble family.

I am so far choosing to ignore the nonsense RTD apparently said about how all of the Doctors everywhere split in two now and ran off to do things, because I think it is unnecessary and doesn't make a whole lot of sense, and I don't really want them to establish this is something that's happening a whole lot in the actual show.

It also doesn't explain the magical trauma resolution "rehab out of order" thing, so I'm not sure how he intended that to work if all of the Doctors are splitting off.

Also, the Tardis needs to merge back in as well when 14 does. I'm currently conceptualizing the Tardis situation as the same Tardis but in two places at once now, because she's big and multi-dimensional and can handle that sort of thing. But she should get to merge back together as well to get a break.

Out of universe, I still think it was an injustice to Ncuti Gatwa to do it this way, but honestly everyone I've seen talk about him seemed to really like him and be excited for his stuff, so hopefully it won't hurt him too badly, since he really does have very good energy I think.

Knock on wood of course, because his first full episode hasn't aired yet, but I'm pretty sure by this point in Jodie's tenure people were already coming out of the woodwork to complain about a woman being the Doctor, so I'm hoping this is a good sign.

#doctor who #doctor who meta #bigeneration #I am talking #Fourteenth Doctor #the giggle

[eemcintyre]

Let the Games Begin

TW- era-appropriate but questionable attitudes about women and non-American cultures; predatory/mildly stalker-y vibes

Summary- Terry Silver (80s edition™️) is determined to claim the one woman at Dynatox who doesn't appear to be interested in him, and he concocts an elaborate scheme by which to do so.

Alright everyone, we are officially rolling on Part 1 of this series! Hours and days have gone into this, my most involved post to date. I hope everyone has as much fun reading this as I did writing it 🥰🤞🏻 This series will take much longer between posts for obvious reasons, but rest assured that I am working diligently and keep your eyes peeled for the next part!

Terry Silver hadn’t been able to truly focus on his work since the previous autumn; one year ago. What he had done, and was doing at the present moment, had been a lot of delegating and a lot of smoking cigars with his feet propped on his desk.

What had started out as a minor annoyance had mutated into an undeniable obsession, so revolting that he was almost nauseated. As much as he tried to deny it to himself, Terry could feel the situation gradually spiraling out of his control. When she’d started appearing in his dreams a few nights ago, robbing him of even the briefest moment of peace, that’s when he really felt his control and composure starting to slip and knew something drastic needed to be done.

She. Valerie. She who had been hired one year ago to work for Dynatox as a public relations specialist (no easy task these days with the growing environmentalist movement). Who had quickly become one of their hardest and most talented workers; who was polite and quick-witted, and who, although certainly plain-looking in the grand scheme of what the state of California had to offer, had the nerve to be the only woman in the company who wouldn’t give Terry Silver the time of day.

Over her comparatively brief tenure at Dynatox, she’d been pleasantly surprised to work her way up to the top floor. It was a convenient coincidence that this was where Terry’s office was. The proximity had afforded him countless opportunities to drop lines and try to pique her interest, but, every time, he was unceremoniously shut down, whether she politely laughed it off as a joke or regaled him with her very full roster of work tasks.

These interactions left Terry in a state of confused fury. After all, what made her, some nobody public relations rep from nowhere, think she was so special? Where did someone like her get off treating someone like him so ambivalently, when any other woman would consider herself lucky to attract his interest?

She didn’t wear a ring or appear to be dating another man, and for a time, he’d wondered if she was a lesbian. However, after digging into her history, he found that she had once seriously dated a man back home (home being the other side of the country) and casually gone out with a couple of others since arriving in California, but nothing had come of them. So, what was the problem? Tapping into the company grapevine, he found that, rather, her reservations regarding him seemed to be that she was well-aware of- and thoroughly unimpressed by- his playboy reputation.

Terry clenched his jaw as he stared through his open office doorway, a perfect window to Valerie’s desk. Her pretentious round glasses, the fawnlike, coy hazel eyes behind them, and her bland but form-fitting skirt suits all seemed to taunt him. He could have her fired at the snap of his fingers, and he often comforted himself with this knowledge, but it would be far more satisfying to somehow get her in his clutches, make her see what she was missing out on and make her equally obsessed with him. Have her in every conceivable way and ruin her for anyone else- better yet, trick her into falling in love with him- just so he could drop her like she was nothing and put her back in her place.

At this immensely appealing thought, Terry took a lusty puff of his cigar, the smoke hovering over Valerie’s figure before dissipating along its upward path. He’d taken to smoking in his office more and more often- she thought he hadn’t picked up on the way she glared at him every time she detected the scent, but he caught it every time and it gave him an admittedly childish satisfaction. It was just too hilarious how easy it was to get the little thing so riled up, thinking her insignificant opinion mattered at all when he himself was on every fucking Forbes list and the provider of her livelihood.

Her soft laugh floated through the doorway from where she sat at her desk, engaging in a friendly exchange with the person across from her. She was wearing red lipstick today. It was as if she was purposely trying to torment him. Terry watched her raise a teacup to her lips and studied the lipstick stain left behind on the rim with particular attention, wondering what it tasted like.  

If he were to just openly ask her out, she would undoubtably say no. A covert operation would be required. The previous night, over a thoughtful soak in the bath and a glass of whiskey, he’d managed to finally come up with the perfect plan. With just the right amount of basis in reality, it would be cunning enough to fool even her while being a lot of fun along the way for him.

He would ask her to act out a fake relationship with him, the pretense being that he was trying to get back at an exe, as well as temper his wild image for potential investors who were not too enthusiastic about his outrageous lifestyle. To lay a believable amount of groundwork for everyone around them, the ruse would start months in advance- it was early autumn now, and the plan would culminate with the perfect event- the suitably theatrical backdrop of the company’s annual Christmas gala.

The exe would be a real figure from Terry’s past- Alicia Harlow. A fellow high-profile figure in the business realm- specifically the heir to AllNation, the U.S.’s number-one insurance company- they maintained a tenuous acquaintance with each other for the sake of their respective business interests. It was also true that, while she currently spent her time traveling from country to country, Alicia would be spending Christmas in California to visit relatives and recuperate at home for the first time in a few years. Though Terry really hardly cared what Alicia thought of him, secure in the knowledge that the breakup was all her loss, it would be an added bonus to reconnect with her just to show off how well he was doing and make her jealous.  

Not only would this scheme serve to lessen Valerie’s suspicions of ulterior motives toward her, thinking all such motives were directed toward Alicia, but Terry could evoke her sympathy if he really laid it on thick with the pathetic, rejected-lover-with-a hurt-ego act. Show her that he was so much more than the narrow view his reputation regrettably portrayed. Finally, to ensure it would be an offer she couldn’t turn down, he was going to offer to double her holiday bonus. That kind of money would be hard for anyone to refuse- especially someone like her- and to him, it was pocket change anyway.

The process of researching Valerie had gone beyond just her dating history and Terry had also delved into her financial situation. Apparently, her move across the country was all part of some grand plan to prove to herself and her family that she could “make it on her own” and attain the kind of success and renown that she had been told was unreasonable. It made perfect sense why she worked at Dynatox- she was about as ambivalent to the company’s goals as she was to the man who oversaw them, but it was a highly successful company. Her eyes betrayed her hunger to get somewhere, be someone, and there was a good place to do it.

It was such a terribly overdone and insipid trope that Terry would have been disappointed if it wasn’t going to work so well to his benefit. While she was paid well for her work, living in California wasn’t cheap. Apparently, she lived in some shithole apartment that just bordered the rough part of town. Some extra funds would definitely capture her attention and were likely to seal the agreement.

Yes, Terry could work with that. His plan would take a lot of work, but he was no stranger to hard work- he was a stranger, however, to not getting what he wanted when he wanted it.

He summoned her to his office.

~

Valerie had observed Mr. Silver out of the corner of her eye and noted that he’d been reclining, feet on the desk and cigar between his lips, for a solid half hour. While the rest of the floor hummed with activity- and the PR team had been double-timing it lately, managing a situation in the Midwest where protestors were objecting to a new Dynatox plant in their area- he seemed not to have a care in the world.

Therefore, upon receiving a page on the telephone from him, summoning her to his office, Valerie punched the last few letters of the document she was typing abnormally hard. She respected the man as her boss; as someone who had built up a highly successful company that was currently paying her bills. But, beyond that, he exhibited many of the traits that she found to be the most abhorrent, from his short-fused and loud temper to the way he peacocked his wealth and good looks… Yes, she’d be lying to herself if she said his imposing stature, intense topaz-blue eyes and glossy, dark hair weren’t attractive. She could be fair and impartial enough to acknowledge that. But what a waste.

Reaching the end of the sentence she was typing, Valerie took a last sip of tea, as if to prepare herself. Knowing that he had a direct line of sight to her desk all the while, and feeling his eyes on her, she took her sweet time meandering into Mr. Silver’s office.

“Mr. Silver, you wanted to see me?” she inquired, lingering in the doorway. She took in the details of his attire: his white trousers and loose-fitting navy button-up, the gold chain around his neck and the diamond stud in his left ear all reeked of California excess. Not to mention the slicked-back ponytail- Valerie had no idea what he possibly thought he was doing with that stylistic choice. 

“Yes, Ms. Clancy, come in,” he replied, gesturing her forward. “You can shut the door behind you.” The words themselves were a suggestion, but he phrased it like an order.

She coughed pointedly upon entering the cloud of cigar smoke that encircled him.

“Sit down,” he smiled warmly, uncrossing his long legs and resting them under the desk, replacing them with his elbows as he leaned toward her, hands folded.

Valerie sat with her own hands folded in her lap and adjusted her skirt, sitting under his piercing gaze and getting the irrational feeling like he could see through her clothes or something. Trying to maintain eye contact without turning red, she attempted to make their interaction as quick and painless as possible:

“If this is about the Midwest project, I told you that my team and I aren’t going to be able to get it to you any sooner than the end of the week. We’re already working double-time…”

“No, no,” he interjected, tapping the ashes off the end of his cigar into a tray on his desk. “There’s something else I need to discuss with you.”

“I… okay?” Utterly mystified, mildly annoyed, and growing a bit concerned, Valerie subconsciously adjusted her glasses on the bridge of her nose. She mentally reviewed the tasks she’d completed recently, wondering if she’d unwittingly made some kind of mistake she was about to be reprimanded for.

“Oh, don’t look so worried,” he assured her, his gaze softening as he grinned apologetically. “I have a proposition for you.” Silver suddenly rose from his chair, cigar in hand, and began pacing lazily before her. “Ms. Clancy, I don’t suppose you’ve heard of Kimura Capital Investments?” he inquired, exhaling a stream of smoke in her direction.

“Of course. They’re the most prestigious investment group outside the States.” Her hands fisted in her lap as she blinked through the smoke. He nodded.

“Well, and keep this under wraps, if you don’t mind- they’ve expressed some interest in Dynatox. The only problem is that, being a Japanese company, they’re a lot more… traditional than what we’re used to. They have a lot of antiquated ideals when it comes to morals and values and all that jazz- plus the board members have it in their heads that I’m unstable; a loose cannon, if you will, and so they aren’t entirely comfortable handing me a bunch of their money. We’ve been courting them for months with everything we’ve got, but no luck yet.” He paused, temporarily setting the cigar down to smolder in the ashtray.

“I also don’t suppose you know a woman by the name of Alicia Harlow?” Though he paced back and forth, his gaze remained steadily on hers.

“No,” she shook her head, proud of herself for how she kept his eye contact unflinchingly. She watched as something not only in his eyes, but his entire expression changed, becoming shadowed. He briefly pursed his lips, glancing toward the floor, and shifted his lower jaw.

“Well, not only is she AllNation Insurance’s heir apparent, but she and I also used to go out. This was a couple of years ago, at this point, but she and I had a pretty messy split. We’ve maintained an acquaintance with each other because it benefits us both for our companies to work together. Of course, since she is an important business partner and she’ll be in town this winter, she is invited to this year’s Christmas gala.”

Silver finally ceased his pacing, leaning over his desk with his hands on the tabletop. He smiled ruefully.

“But it still hurts me to think of her, much less talk to her… this December will be the first time I have to see her in-person since we broke up, and she’s bringing her fiancé… Meanwhile, I think I’ll cut a pretty pathetic figure if I’m there by myself or with one of the random women I could pick up between now and then.”

“Excuse me, Mr. Silver, but I’m just confused what all of this has to do with me.” Valerie felt a headache coming on- whether it was from the smoke, missing valuable work time to listen to whatever point Mr. Silver was trying to make (so much for meeting that deadline), or merely being in his presence at all, she wasn’t sure.

“I guess I should get to that. Of course; you don’t want to hear my sob story,” he acknowledged, chuckling self-deprecatingly. “Valerie, I’d like you to pretend to be my girlfriend. Now, listen, before you say no: it would just be for a couple of months, and it would mean a lot to the company, and to me, for two reasons. First, and most importantly, if I can clean up my image- and being with one reasonably well-adjusted woman consistently for, well, longer than a week, let’s be honest- it would go a long way in the department of making me look more stable and whatever the hell else Kimura is so interested in. Then, the chances of them investing in Dynatox go up exponentially.”

He slid back into his desk chair so that he was close to and directly across from her. “It would be so good for the company and everyone who works here would benefit. Plus, and this would just be an added bonus on top of that, but I would be able to show Alicia that I’m doing well for myself without her and I’ve moved on. The breakup was really tough on me and it was hard to get over her, but I don’t want her to think she destroyed me, y’know?” He toyed with the signet ring on his right hand.

“But… why me, though? I’m sure you know plenty of other women who could do a better job than me.” Valerie eyed him incredulously, eyebrows knitted to a level she had never before reached.

“Don’t sell yourself short, Valerie. You may not be built like a model, but you’re decently attractive, and you’ve got a lot of things that most of the other women I know don’t.”

Valerie had to keep her mouth from falling open at the underhanded compliment, her incredulous look intensifying as Silver continued, seemingly obliviously, onward.

“You work hard at everything you put your mind to, and you’re trustworthy. This would be a challenging project that would require the utmost discretion. You’re also not currently seeing anyone, and besides, you work in public relations- you specialize in bullshit. You put on a show for a living.”

As much as Valerie was stunned, she was also intrigued by this extremely unusual proposal. Even if she was undoubtably going to say no, it didn’t hurt to find out more just to satisfy her curiosity. One thing that bothered her, however, was how did he know that she was single?

Speaking slowly, she asked: “When you say ‘pretend to be your girlfriend,’ what exactly would that entail?”

“Well, it would mean accompanying me to various events, posing in front of the media, and of course, a lot of play-acting on both our parts. I know it’s not in your job description, but I’m willing to make it very worth your while. How does it sound if I double your end-of-year bonus? Does that sound like a pretty sweet deal?”

Valerie was no longer able to keep her mouth from falling open. That kind of money was enough to make her sincerely rethink and consider his offer.

Outlandish and downright unbelievable as it was, the idea of leaving her cramped old apartment and living in an area of town where she didn’t have to constantly look over her shoulder was inviting. And, being able to show that achievement off to her doubtful family and friends back home… Silver wasn’t the only one interested in stirring up some feelings of regret. Still, this would require substantial commitment, in more ways than one. The idea of spending large amounts of time with him, let alone pretending to be affectionate toward him and having people think they were intimate with each other… Silver certainly noticed her face turning red now.

“Mr. Silver, I...”

“It would just be until the Kimura deal is resolved and the Christmas gala is over. Shouldn’t be more than a couple of months. After that, once Kimura is up to their ass in contractual obligations and Ms. Harlow thinks I’m the one that got away, we can easily taper things off and our ‘relationship’ can die a discreet and mysterious death.” His tone was so nonchalant, it was like he was discussing any everyday business deal.

“I… I don’t know…”

“I want you to think about it.” He reached his hand halfway across his desk in a reassuring gesture. “I need an answer soon, but not right away. It’s an odd request, to put it lightly; I’ll admit it.” He chuckled to himself again with a self-conscious smile. “It would be some extra work, of course, and sometimes it might be a little awkward, so if you agree I want you to really have considered it. But just try to think of it as a special work assignment. I would be eternally grateful. Do you think you can get back to me by, say, this time tomorrow?”

“Um… y-yes, sure.” Valerie’s own voice sounded to her ears like it was coming from some other person. She couldn’t believe what she had just said, but comforted herself that all she had agreed to do was think about it, which was the polite thing to do, anyway. She could refuse Silver’s offer tomorrow, letting him believe that she had at least carefully considered it before shooting it down.

“Great,” he replied, flashing his typical bright, expansive smile this time. Rising from his seat again, he guided her to the door as she walked stiffly in its direction. “Well, when you have your answer, just swing back by my office.” He placed one of his large hands on her shoulder, opening his office door with the other. “Thank you so much for your time.”

As she padded back to her desk, Valerie didn’t notice Silver snatch his cigar back out of the ashtray. Reclining back into his chair, legs crossed over the desk once more, he blew a smoke ring after her as she walked away. It was as if he was trying to rope her in with it so he could devour her.

Valerie sat back down at her own desk, her thoughts and everything around her seeming like they were hazed over. All she could think to herself at first was What the absolute hell was that? Who, besides cartoonish movie villains, thinks up a crazy scheme like that? And it would only be crazier for her to accept it.

But then there was, perhaps, the craziest part of all, which was also the most intriguing- the money. And sure, Valerie could understand the importance of getting Kimura to invest in Dynatox. She could also understand even more clearly the desire to prove people wrong and make them regret the things they said about you; Silver’s insecurity had finally humanized the larger-than-life, seemingly all-powerful, and invulnerable figure to her. If it was in fact true, it was hidden behind thick layers of pride, but maybe- just maybe- she had been wrong about him.

But the idea of proving her family and friends back home wrong, and even making them feel proud of her and proud to know her, was tempting. And the same went for those she had met in California- she knew that many of the people around her either looked down on or pitied her with her final-sale clothes and small apartment, while most of them wore the latest fashions and owned their own property. It would be nice to finally be seen as an equal.

Earning that extra money, and the increased security and status that would come with it, could really help her on her way to finally making some kind of mark on the world. If that journey had to start with pretending to be Terry Silver’s girlfriend, well, it could definitely be worse. How bad could it be, really? Mingle at an event here and there, call him “baby,” hold his hand and smile? Maybe have to kiss him a couple of times? If he could somehow keep his mouth shut over the entire next few months, it would really be all too easy.

Silver’s obnoxious personality and the fact that this all seemed too good to be true were what really stood in her way. Double her bonus, just to essentially play pretend for a couple of months? And speaking of pretend, two could play at that game. Where had this previously unseen sensitive and vulnerable side of his come from? She thought she had detected him flirting with her in the past, and for the briefest moment, she entertained the thought that this was all just some bizarre, elaborate plan to get her into bed with him.

But that thought almost immediately evaporated- while he might possibly want her just for the sake of being able to say he’d had her, Valerie doubted that he would go to such lengths to do so. As one of the most successful men in the country, Terry Silver could easily have his pick of the most desirable women out there. It must have to do purely with her other qualifications, like he’d said. The general word on the street must be true- Mr. Silver was just a very strange man.

While Valerie was attempting to parse through all of these lines of thought, her work friends had clustered around her as soon as she sat down. Without even bothering to hide their curiosity and concern, they immediately peppered her with questions about what Mr. Silver wanted and whether anything was wrong- after all, it was highly unusual to be called into his office like that. But Valerie managed to play it cool, eyes either glued to her computer or glancing innocently wide as she reassured them that he merely wanted to check in on the status of their project because it was so important. Having made it clear, by typing all the while, that she wanted to focus on her work, her friends soon lost interest and filtered away to their respective desks. Valerie was relieved it had worked, because, despite the calm and work-focused act, it was hard to concentrate the rest of the day.

Perfect, Terry thought to himself as he observed. She was going to be an even better actress than he’d anticipated.

~

It wasn’t merely at work where Valerie had trouble concentrating. Despite her best efforts, she continued to think about the meeting with Mr. Silver all evening- while she cooked and had dinner, while she showered, and as she fell asleep- she even dreamed about it.

She certainly didn’t enjoy having Terry Silver occupy that much of her mind, but what was worse was how, as the hours went on, the deal began to look more and more tempting. When was an opportunity like this going to come up again? Besides, she thought, it could be fun having some occasions to get dolled up; pretend like she wasn’t single and her life was far more interesting than it really was.

By the end of the following workday, she had made up her mind. In actuality, she had made her decision that morning, but it took most of the day to convince her body to cooperate with her mind and carry her into Silver’s office to tell him.

An hour before business drew to its daily close, the same time as yesterday, Valerie had finally sorted out what she wanted to say to the best of her ability and scrounged up the gumption to enter Silver’s office. She entered without knocking and he looked up, telephone receiver to his ear, briefly glaring daggers until he registered that it was Valerie who had interrupted.

“Yeah. Yeah, listen- I’ll call you back. I said I’ll call you back.” He hung up, his eyes softening and posture relaxing, though inside he was fuming that she’d not only interrupted him but also made him wait this long to give her answer. Nothing like waiting for the last minute. She’s really relishing this, huh? He thought. You think it’s fun to get under my skin, babydoll? You want to make me squirm? Just wait until the tables are turned on you… But he bit all trace of this back, greeting her with merely a welcoming smile.

“Mr. Silver, I’ve made up my mind,” she declared before he had a chance to make even a cursory greeting. She hadn’t meant to burst in quite so unceremoniously, but she had started the luge- there was no getting off the sled now.

“Wonderful, of course, come in,” he replied, gesturing her closer. She closed the door without being asked this time. “Sit down.”

Too concentrated on how to deliver what she was about to say, his words did not register with Valerie and she continued to stand awkwardly.

“Mr. Silver,” she repeated.

“Yes?” he lightly tapped his desk with a pen as it was becoming difficult for him to conceal his impatience.

She drew in a breath. “I understand how significant a deal with Kimura would be for everyone at this company and I don’t want to stand in the way of that- I would like to help if I can. But while I can sympathize with the situation with Ms. Harlow, honestly, your personal life is not really my concern and I’m still a bit confused how I’m the supposed best fit for that role...”

“I appreciate your honesty.”

Valerie couldn’t tell if his tone was meant to be sarcastic or genuine. Either way, she realized that she did not want to show weakness; she needed to appear confident, lest he begin to see things from her point of view as well and change his mind, meaning all of this thought and discussion would be embarrassingly all for nothing. Plus, she refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing her rattled. Speaking more forcefully and clasping her hands in front of her, she continued:

“...Like any other assignment, I would be prepared to give it my all and your belief would not be misplaced…”

“Ms. Clancy, I just need a yes or a no.” He said, his face and body language cool and motionless apart from raising his eyebrows.

“Yes. I accept,” she blurted out at last.

Silver’s level expression broke into a wide grin as he exclaimed “Oh, that’s great-”

“-But I have conditions,” she attempted to reel his enthusiasm back in, uncomfortable with how gleeful the news had made him. “I want to be compensated very well. I’m not ashamed to tell you that my main interest in this is for the money.”

Silver’s delighted expression and tone went unbothered by her gravity. He tossed aside the pen that had been clasped triumphantly in his fist. “You’ll get double your bonus, as promised. It’ll be in your bank account the second the last guest leaves the gala.”

“And I want it in writing.”

“Smart woman,” Silver nodded approvingly. “I just so happen to already have a contract drawn up.” He swiveled in his chair, snatching up a paper from the table behind his desk. “It’s basic, but it will do. I’ve already had my secretary notarize it.”

Valerie studied the signature at the bottom of the page that read “Margaret Spencer” in neat cursive. While Silver’s foresight made things efficient, she was irritated that he had assumed she would say yes.

“And we can’t take it too far.” She made her final, perhaps most important demand. “With the public affection.”

“Would you like me to draw up a contract for that, too? Hand-holding acceptable, no heavy petting or kissing with tongue?” He chuckled, meeting her solemn gaze with a mocking glint. She reddened, but did not flinch.

“That won’t be necessary. I just want to set expectations. After all, at the end of the day, I don’t care how much you’re paying me- I’m a businesswoman, not an actress or an escort. There are certain boundaries we can’t cross.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Silver assured her, like he was ever the gentleman. Inside, he looked forward to when he would indeed cross every single one.

Terry didn’t appreciate her thinking she could order him around. He kept his outward composure, but he knew that a long and aggressive karate training session was going to be in order when he arrived home that evening.

 “I guess it’s settled, then.” He clapped his hands together. “Good. Now, I believe I made it clear yesterday that time is not on our side here. We’ll have to start planning and preparing this weekend, so you’ll have to cancel any plans. I’ll have a car sent to pick you up and take you to my place Saturday morning.”

“Mr. Silver, you don’t need to do that-” Valerie protested, not wanting to feel like a charity case or to be more obligated to him than she already was.

“-Of course not.” He waved his hand dismissively. “But it’s my pleasure, and it’s easier than giving you directions and getting you through security. Is 10 AM too early?”

“Not at all.” She paused, not sure how to respond to this new barrage of unusual requests and information. “Should I… bring anything?”

He chuckled. “No. But Valerie, you should start calling me Terry.”

“Alright… Terry.” The syllables felt foreign on her tongue, but not entirely repulsive.

“Maybe not around the office,” he added, “In the interest of maintaining some façade of professionalism, but of course, the lines are going to start to blur…”

“Of course,” she nodded, adjusting her glasses.

“I really can’t tell you how thankful I am.” Although she was still standing, he leaned in, voice lowered. “Regardless of whatever your reasons are, you’re helping me out a lot. More than you know.” He paused and they merely held silent eye contact for a moment. He was impressed by how long she returned his stare, but was pleased when she eventually was the first to break the contact and glance uncomfortably at the wall behind him.

“Well, until Saturday. I’ll see you bright and early.”

“Mr. Silver.” She nodded again, this time in farewell, stepping out of his office as suddenly as she had come in.

As she wrapped up her work for the day, Valerie felt weird and inexplicably dirty. She tried to focus on the money and everything she would be able to do with it. She told herself that she was just doing him a favor and being nice. It was just an extra work task. But she couldn’t shake the feeling of what the hell have I done?

#thomas ian griffith #terry silver #cobra kai #the karate kid #creative writing #enemies to lovers #fake dating #karate kid fanfiction