#also i have to note that I fucking hate office suite for mobile

[operaghosted]

There are some spoilers for BG3 in this post due to the nature of some mentioned spells!

Anyway! I made a spreadsheet for spells in bg3, mostly matching spells to their counterpart scroll if they have one. some spells don't have scrolls, some scrolls can't be learned, and some spells are only learned from scribing a scroll. at the bottom, I've included as well other special spells either provided via circumstance or item, along with player unusable ones from various sources (npc only, unavailable, unobtainable, and unimplemented)

I had found several threads across the internet on different forums since I've started playing asking what spells should take priority for a wizard since some can be learned from scrolls and not just natural leveling up, and I love spreadsheets so

I hope this helps someone, and if not, I still enjoyed making it for my own nefarious plans

I'd upload it to Google docs (I think that's what it's called?) to share fully, but I quite literally do not understand how to do it. if anyone would like me to do that anyway, direct me towards some clear instructions on how and I'd be happy to do so so it's easier to read if nothing else!

lastly, there's one thing left undefined: I'm not sure who the npc is that can cast Posession. Iirc it only affects Oskar, so therefore it may only be something cast by Mystic Carrion? But I don't think we see anyone cast it explicitly. Ultimately, I'm unsure, so I marked it as such. if anyone has more info, please let me know so I may update it!

[doctorbitchcrxft]

It's a Terrible Life | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Warnings: canon violence, canon gore, potentially toxic relationship dynamic between boss and subordinate, undertones of misogyny

Word Count: 7310

A/N: I got a little carried away here.... lmfao I hope y'all enjoy!!!

Mobile Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

Supernatural Series Rewrite Playlist

You groaned as your alarm clock beeped. You pulled your pillow over your head before reaching over and silencing the alarm.

Slowly but surely, you were getting frustrated with the monotony of routine. The stuffy cubicles, the holiday office parties, and the fucking assistant job you’d be starting today. You were grateful, but you wanted more out of life. Being some douche’s gopher wasn’t what you envisioned your life would be. 

You took a sip of your sugary morning latte and turned your back to the counter. Your apartment was small, but it was home. You hoped with your new job you’d at least be able to afford some nicer furniture than the futon you often fell asleep on watching “Sex and the City” re-runs. 

Gas was expensive, and you lived in the city. So, you preferred to take the bus to work. The building— or, rather, skyscraper— you’d be working in was as monotonous and boring as ever. Columns of windows extending miles high made up its exterior, and you clutched the handle you were hanging onto tighter as you approached. One of your biggest fears was heights, and your new job was on one of the top floors.

The lobby was pristinely clean, and your heels made a loud clacking sound as you strode over to the elevator. 

You checked your clipboard of papers you’d printed out at the library the night before and noted the office you were to report to. 

You knocked on the door labeled “Dean Smith— Director, Sales & Marketing.” “Good morning,” you said as you poked your head into the open doorway. 

A man with his hair slicked down in a sharp suit and tie stood from behind his desk. “Ah, you must be (Y/N),” he said. 

There was no denying how gorgeous he was. “Hi,” you replied shyly, trying to keep your cheeks from heating. 

He strode over to you and extended his hand. “Dean. Dean Smith,” he said. 

You put your hand in his and smiled. “Nice to meet you.” You hated how small your voice sounded, but he seemed to find it endearing. 

“You’re early,” he said. “I like it.” 

You shrugged. “I just wanna make a good impression.” You took a deep breath. “Now, I have a few ideas about how I could organize your schedule a little bit better and maybe take a few things off your plate…”

****

The night of your third day working with Mr. Smith— who insisted you call him Dean— dragged on. The man could be a bit of a workaholic, but he also seemed to have a pretty solid sense of humor at times.

Your nerves had not yet eased up, and it seemed Mr. Smith was doing his best to break you out of your shell. 

“(Y/N), tell me something about you,” he implored after hanging up the phone for his last meeting of the night.

You sat on the couch in his office flipping through his calendar for the upcoming week. “There’s not much to tell,” you shrugged.

“Ah, c’mon,” he said, “please?”

You sighed dramatically with a smile. “Well, I, uh— I went to University of Kansas in Lawrence for business—”

“Something non-work-related, (Y/N),” Dean smirked. “I already know you’re overqualified to be working for me.”

Your cheeks heated, and you looked down at your lap with a smile. “I, um, I wanted to be a ballerina up until I was eighteen. Twelve years of intense training at a ballet academy just for me to trade it all in for this,” you explained, gesturing around you. “You can imagine how happy my parents were.” You tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “What about you?” you asked. “Tell me something non-work-related.”

“Well, I haven't been to the gym in ages, and I was definitely never a dancer. Carrying a little bloat around nowadays,” he said. “It's a sedentary lifestyle, y’know?”

“Trust me, I know,” you said. “All I get you for lunch is salads; you don’t seem to be doing that badly.”

Dean smirked. “Thanks very much.”

You realized what you’d said and your eyes widened a bit. “Sorry, I shouldn’t’ve— sorry—”

“It’s alright, no sweat,” he told you. Trying to break up the slight tension, he asked, “How do you feel about ‘Project Runway’?” 

You snorted. “Seriously?”

“Hell yeah!” he replied.

“I’m more of a ‘Top Model’ fan myself,” you said. 

“Ooh, Tyra’s a bitch,” Dean added. “How do you put up with watching her?”

You shrugged. “Slightly masochistic enjoyment.”

Dean chuckled. “Well, I’d better get going,” he told you as he checked his watch. “Close up whenever you leave, would you?” He tossed you his keys, and you were left there reeling from the interaction you’d just had. 

****

The next morning, Dean came in looking slightly rattled. 

“Mr. Smith?” you asked, standing from your seat on the couch. “Are you alright?”

His head swiveled toward yours. “Huh?” he said. “Oh, uh— yeah. Yeah, I’m good.”

You walked over to him and took the briefcase he was white-knuckling gently. “What happened?” you questioned.

Dean shook his head. “Just this weirdo in the elevator,” he said. “First, I thought he was trying to get me to the showers, if you know what I mean, and then, he asked me if I believe in ghosts.”

You snorted. “What?”

“I’m dead serious,” he replied. 

“Does he even work here?” you asked. “Or was it, some, like, poor soul off the street that doesn’t know what year it is?”

Dean chuckled. “He works in tech, I think.”

“Weird,” you muttered. 

“Completely.” 

****

“Mr. Smith?”

“It’s Dean, (Y/N),” he replied. 

“Sure,” you said, putting your clipboard down on the coffee table in front of you. “But do you believe in ghosts?”

He scoffed. “What?” Dean stopped typing on his computer.

“You never said whether you did or not,” you replied. “When you were talking about that guy in the elevator.”

Dean chuckled. “You’re funny, you know that?”

“I’m serious,” you whined. “Humor me.”

Your boss seemed taken aback. “Well, I’ve never given it much thought, to be honest.”

“Me neither,” you replied earnestly. “But I think that maybe I do.”

“Well,” Dean scoffed jokingly, “you can go get help on the paddy wagon with the tech support guy.”

You giggled. A few moments of silence passed between the two of you. “Did you ever figure out who he is?”

Dean shook his head. “I don’t know that I care to find out.”

You considered. “Fair,” you finally said. 

****

A few days later, a man was found dead in the tech support cubicle office several floors down from you and Dean. He’d apparently stuck his head in a microwave and cooked himself to death, which you found slightly implausible. 

You held a hand to your chest as the coroners wheeled the man out of the office. Dean was standing next to a few other suits, and you stood a few yards off with some of the other women who worked on your floor. 

“Something doesn’t seem right about this,” you told the small group you stood in.

“Try the whole thing,” another girl piped up. “I’ll never eat popcorn again.”

“Me neither,” chimed in another. “Finally gives me an excuse to quit all the carbs.”

****

That poor guy’s death really tugged at you. Without sharing your feelings with your boss, you pulled out your laptop and put it on his desk opposite from where he sat. Dean had given you access to the personnel files to help him manage his own employees a bit better, but you took advantage of it to access the file of the man who’d died: Paul Dunbar.

“Two weeks?” you muttered aloud without realizing it.

“Huh?” Dean questioned.

You shook your head. “Sorry, it’s just— It’s nothing.”

“No, c’mon,” he pleaded. “Tell me what’s up.”

“The guy who died,” you said. “Paul Dunbar. His retirement party was supposed to be in two weeks.”

“Why are you—? (Y/N), that’s not what I gave you access to personnel files for,” he replied.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I was just curious,” you said nervously. “His death’s jus’ got me shaken up, is all.”

“(Y/N), do your little investigation on your own time,” he snapped. 

You were taken aback by his attitude. 

Then, someone knocked on the opened door. A nervous-looking tech support employee stood there with his shoulders slumped. 

“Hi. Ian, is it?” you asked, standing and snapping to attention.  “Come on in.” You shut your laptop, picked it up, and began to walk out to your own office which you found you spent very little time in. “I’ll give you guys the room,” you said, shutting the door behind you. There was some sort of issue Dean needed to take up with him, and you decided to give yourself the time to think. 

Before you could shut the door behind you, the tech support employee sprinted past you with Dean hot on his heels. You followed as fast as your feet would allow. 

“Mr. Smith?” you called after him. “Dean!”

Ian sprinted into the men’s room, and Dean followed him. With only slight hesitation, you followed, too. 

“Ian, hey. Just chill out, man,” Dean told the employee. “Okay?”

Ian was staring into a mirror, and you noticed how cold the room was. The bathroom was always slightly frigid, but never like this. Then, you noticed you could see your breath. 

Suddenly, all the faucets came on as well as all the soap dispensers.

“What the fuck?” you murmured.

“Ian, hey, maybe we should get out of here, huh?” Dean insisted. “Come on, Ian. Look at me.”

Ian turned toward Dean and pulled a pencil out of his pocket. After a brief moment of tense eye contact, the man stabbed himself in the neck with the sharp end of the pencil. 

You screamed in horror and covered your mouth with your hands. You jumped again when you saw an old man in the mirror behind Ian. 

“Dean, look!” you cried. 

He saw the man as well, and when the two of you turned around, he was gone. Immediately, you rushed to Ian’s side. You listened to his chest for a heartbeat, but he was long gone. Stricken with confusion and grief, you looked up at Dean and shook your head.

“Somebody help us!” he screamed.

****

Of course, the police had questions for you and Dean. And, of course, you didn’t mention the disappearing old man.

In the middle of the investigation, a tall man with a yellow shirt on was staring at you from across the room. You occasionally glanced at him, slightly unsettled, but continued to provide answers to the best of your ability. After hours of rigorous interrogation, Ian was wheeled away on a stretcher in a black bag. 

You just stared after him, and you jumped when your boss tapped your arm lightly. 

“Whoa, hey,” he said, holding his hands up in surrender. “Just me. Come, uh— come with me real quick, would ya?”

You nodded and followed him back to his office still in a bit of a daze. “What’d you wanna see me for?” you asked, closing the door to his office behind you.

“I’m sorry,” he said. Dean cleared his throat. “I’m sorry you had to see that.”

“I’m sorry you had to see that,” you told him. “Are you, uh— Are you okay?”

“Maybe,” he said. “I saw that ghost guy from the elevator outside the bathroom.”

“Oh,” you replied. “What’s he got to do with anything?”

“He and Ian were close. And I thought maybe he could answer a few questions about that old man from the bathroom for us,” Dean explained.

And so, Dean called him in. 

“Come on in,” he told the employee. “Shut the door.”

The man closed the door behind himself, and you stood in the far corner just watching. “Wait, this is the guy?” you asked.

Dean gave you a strange look. “Yeah…?”

“He was staring at me outside the bathroom,” you told him. 

“Who the hell are you?” Dean asked him, his tone slightly accusatory.

“I'm not sure I know,” the man replied.

“What the hell does that mean?”

The employee shook his head. “Sam Wesson. I started here three weeks ago.”

“Alright. You cornered me in the elevator talking about ghosts. And now…” Dean trailed off, pacing a bit behind his desk.

“Now, what?” Sam asked, eyebrows raised. 

Dean sighed. “Now nothing. I, uh… so you started working here three weeks ago, huh?”

Sam nods.

“Me, too,” you said. 

Dean looked at you in surprise. “Yeah, me, too.”

“Huh,” you murmured, staring at the ground. Something about this felt strange.

Dean unscrewing the top of a bottle pulled you out of your own head. “It's the Master Cleanse,” Dean told you and Sam. “You tried it? Phenomenal. Detoxes you like nobody's business.” He took a large swig.

“When you were in that bathroom with Ian, did you see something?” Sam asked.

“I don’t—”

You cut Dean off. “Yes,” you replied. 

“(Y/N)—” Dean almost scolded. “We don’t know what we saw.”

Sam turned his attention to you. “Wait, are you saying that—did you see a ghost?”

“We were freaking out,” Dean answered for you. “The guy penciled his damn neck.”

“Yes, we did,” you responded anyway.

“Okay, listen. What if these suicides aren't suicides? I mean, what if they're something,” Sam trailed off, searching for the word, “not natural?”

“So, what, ghosts are real?” Dean scoffed. “And they're responsible for all the dead bodies around here? Is that what you're telling me?”

The three of you finally decided to sit down, almost doing so in unison. 

“I know it sounds crazy. But yes. That's what I'm telling you,” Sam replied.

“Uh-huh,” Dean nodded skeptically. “Based on what?”

Sam searched for an answer for a moment. “Instinct,” he finally said.

Dean looked down and shook his head. “I've got the same instinct.”

“Seriously?” Sam asked, almost sounding relieved.

The two men looked at you expectantly. 

“What? I already told you I thought the guy in the bathroom was a ghost,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest.

Sam turned back to Dean. “You know those dreams I was telling you about? I was dreaming about ghosts,” he said. “And then it turns out that there's a real ghost.”

Dean scoffed. “So you're telling me that your dreams are special visions, and you're some kind of psychic?”

Sam made a deadpan expression. “No. I mean, that would be nuts. I'm just saying something weird is definitely going on around here, right? So I've been digging around a little,” he leaned over and pulled some papers out of his bag, “I think I found a connection between the two guys.”

Sam passed the papers, and Dean then passed them to you. 

“You broke into their email accounts?” Dean questioned.

The employee looked bashful. “I used some skills that I happen to have to satisfy my curiosity.”

“Nice,” you grinned lopsidedly. 

“So it turns out, Ian and Paul both got this same email telling them to report to HR, room fourteen forty-four,” Sam explained.

“HR’s on seven,” you noted, furrowing your eyebrows.

“Exactly.”

“Should we go check this out?” Dean asked. He seemed a little excited, if you were honest.

“Like, right now?” Sam replied.

Dean shook his head. “No. No, it's getting late. You're right.”

“I am dying to check this out right now,” Sam grinned.

“Right?” you added, excitement causing butterflies to jolt around your stomach.

Despite the exhausting day, adrenaline surged through you as you went to the fourteenth floor. You felt slightly relieved to be moving down a few floors.

The building was mostly empty by this time of night which was why you were caught off-guard by someone yelling down the hall as soon as the elevator doors opened. 

You shared a quick glance with Dean before the three of you were racing down the hall to the source of the sound. Unsurprisingly, the screams were coming from behind the door to room 1444. 

“It’s locked,” Dean said. 

Almost instinctively, Sam kicked the door open.

“Whoa,” your boss breathed out.

Once inside, you could see the man screaming and writhing under a fallen bookshelf. You rushed to his side along with Sam, and the two of you tried your best to get him out from under the shelf. You hardly had time to register the whirring computer monitors and shaking shelving units scattered throughout the room.

The old man from the bathroom appeared next to Sam and shoved him over before telekinetically flinging you and Dean against a wall. 

You groaned, and your head lolled to the side. Then, you noticed a wrench lying on the ground a few feet away from you. 

Dean had risen to his feet to try and help the man the ghost was approaching, and you shouted, “Dean, catch!” while throwing the wrench at him.

He caught it easily, and then, he swung at the old man with the wrench. Immediately, the old man dissipated before he could touch the man underneath the shelf. The chaos around the room came to a stop as well. 

You were able to help the man out from under the shelves, and he scrambled away and out of the room. 

“How’d you know that would work?” Sam asked.

You and Dean shook your heads. “I have no idea,” the two of you responded in unison.

****

Dean suggested the three of you head back to his apartment to recharge and chat. You and Sam agreed, and it was clear the three of you were reeling from the incident on the way there. 

Dean took a large swig of his Master Cleanse, and you and Sam sat awkwardly on his couch. It was clear the two of you were out of your element in Dean’s luxury apartment on the nicer side of town. 

“Holy crap,” Dean breathed out before taking another drink of his juice cleanse.

“Yeah,” Sam added. “I could use a beer.”

“Oh, sorry, man. I'm on the Cleanse. I got rid of all the carbs in the house,” Dean replied with a sheepish grimace.

Sam turned to you as Dean handed him a water bottle. “Hey, how the hell did you know that ghosts are scared of wrenches?”

You shrugged.

Dean chuckled. “Crazy, right? And nice job kicking that door too. That was very Jet Li. What are you, like, a black belt or something?”

“No. I have no clue how I did that. It's like… we've done this before,” Sam commented.

“What do you mean, ‘before’? Like ‘Shirley MacLaine’ before?” Dean scoffed.

“No. I- I just can't shake this feeling like I— like I don't belong here, y’know? Like I should do something more than sit in a cubicle,” the taller man said.

“I think most people who work in a cubicle feel that same way,” you noted. “But I get what you mean. I’m not crazy about my job, either. I don’t exactly like constantly being an accessory to someone else without being able to do my own work. Sorry, Dee.” You covered your mouth with your hand after realizing what you’d called him. 

“Dee?” your boss mouthed under his breath as you continued to flush.

“Well, look, it's more than that. Like, I don't like my job. I don't like this town,” Sam explaIned. “I don't like my clothes. I don't like my own last name. I don't know how else to explain it, except that...it feels like I should be doing something else. There's just something in my blood. Like I was destined for something different. What about you?” He looked over at you. “You ever feel that way?” 

You considered, and Dean took the opportunity to answer for you. “I don't believe in destiny. I do believe in dealing with what's right in front of us, though.”

“Okay, so, what now?” you asked.

“We do what I do best, Sammy. Research,” Dean replied.

Sam looked taken aback. “Okay. Did you just call me Sammy?” 

“Did I?”

“I think you did,” Sam chuckled. “Yeah. Don't.”

“Sorry,” Dean grimaced. He sat at his laptop at his corner desk, and you and Sam pulled out your own on the couch.

Within thirty minutes, Dean chuckled. “Oh, jackpot.”

“What you got?” Sam asked.

“I just found the best site ever,” Dean grinned, beckoning you and Sam over. “Real, actual ghost hunters.”

You and Sam got up from the couch and stood behind Dean. 

“These guys are genius. Check it out,” your boss said.

“Instructional videos,” Sam added.

You read the banner of the website, which was entitled “Ghostfacers.” You thought the name was interesting, and the guys on screen were a bit nerdy-looking, but you were willing to give them a chance.

The two men were wearing white lab coats and glasses standing behind a metal table.

“We know why you're watching,” one said.

“You've got a problem,” the other added.

“A ghost problem.”

Almost in unison, the first man said, “A ghost-related problem. A ghost— it's like a ghost-adjacent pr— it's like a problem that's— and the ghost is—”

The dark-haired Ghostfacer cut his coworker off. “Whatever. You've come to the right place. The only decent place, really, because the Ghostfacers know how to solve it.”

“Period.”

“Watch and learn.”

“See, the first step in any supernatural fight—”

“Figure out what you're up against,” the two said in unison.

You rushed over to your laptop to show them the picture of Sandover’s founder. “This is the guy,” you said.

“Yeah,” Dean confirmed. “That’s him.”

“P. T. Sandover. Died 1916. Devoted his life to his work,” you explained. “No wife, no kids.”

“Used to say he was the company,” Sam read from the article, “and his very blood pumped through the building.”

“Wow, okay. So slight workaholic. Maybe he's still here, y’know, watching over the company, even killing for it.”

“I mean, he’s talking about it like it’s his child,” you joked. “Plus, turns out this isn't the first time people started killing themselves in the building. First time was in 1929. And I know what you’re thinking, y’know, Great Depression, lots of people killed themselves. But this company had seventeen suicides.”

“Phew. Okay, so P. T. Sandover, protector of the company,” Dean grimaced. “His ghost wakes up and becomes active during times of grave economic distress.”

“Well, I mean, the worst time we've seen since the Great Depression—” 

Dean cut Sam off. “Is now. Yeah, ‘now’ sucks. My portfolio's in the sewer. I don't even wanna talk about it.”

“So Sandover's helping the bottom line—”

Dean cut Sam off again. “By zapping some model employees.”

“Do you always cut people off when they’re talking?” you asked rhetorically. 

Your boss gave you a playful glare.

“Anyway, I mean, Ian and Paul,” Sam continued. “It was like he turned them into different people.”

“Perfect worker bees, exactly,” Dean noted. “So devoted to the company that they would commit hara-kiri if they failed it.”

“One more interesting fact. The building wasn't always that high. Used to be fourteen floors. And the room where the ghost attacked, fourteen forty-four? Once upon a time, that was the old man's office,” Sam read from your computer. 

You then returned to the Ghostfacers video.

“Once you've got that thing in your sights—” the redhead began.

“You kill it,” the two men said in unison.

“Using special ghost-hunting weapons.”

“First, salt. It's like acid to ghosts.”

“Burny acid.” 

“Not LSD,” the dark-haired one clarified.

“No. It's a bad trip for ghosts. Next up, iron.”

“That's why the wrench worked,” Sam said, lightly slapping Dean’s shoulder.

The Ghostfacers continued, “Pure power in your hand.”

“Dissipates ghosts instantly.”

“Next little trick. We learned this from those useless douchebags—” The redheaded one added, “That we hate.”

“The Winchesters.”

“What are they, like Bonnie and Clyde?” you wondered aloud.

“Gun,” one man said.

“Shotgun shell. Pack it up with fresh rock salt,” the dark-haired one added.

“Very effective.”

“Very effective.”

“Winchesters still suck ass, though.”

“Affirmative. Suckage major.”

“The girl they’re with, what was her name?” the dark-haired man asked.

The redheaded one replied, “That’s not important right now. She knows who she is. She’s still got my heart.” He made a kissing face at the camera. 

You giggled at his antics, but you slightly felt bad for whatever girl he was referring to.

Dean paused the video and got up from his seat to pack his fire pokers in a duffel bag with a salt shaker.

“Where do we even get a gun?” Dean asked.

Sam shrugged. “Gun store?”

“Isn't there like some kind of waiting period or something?” you questioned.

“I think so,” the taller man replied.

“Well, how in the hell—”

Sam cut him off. “I don't know. Seems pretty impossible, honestly.”

You three then returned your attention to the video.

“The aforementioned super-annoying Winchester douchenozzles also taught us this one other thing. You have to burn the remains,” the dark-haired Ghostfacer explained.

“Okay, this next part gets a little gross,” the redhead warned. “Sometimes you might have to dig up the body. Sorry.”

“It's illegal in some states—”

“All states—”

“—Possibly all states.”

Sam looked over a page on his laptop. “Sandover was cremated.”

“What? So what do we do now?” Dean asked, nearly gripping the screen as if asking the Ghostfacers in person.

“Now, if the deceased has been cremated—” “Don't panic.”

“Just gotta look for some other remains.”

“A hair in a locket, maybe. Fingernails. Baby teeth.”

“Milk teeth,” the dark-haired one suggested.

The redhead nodded. “Genetic material. You know what we're talking about.”

“Go find it.”

To sign off, the redhead said, “Fight well, young lions.”

“Godspeed,” the other added. Then, the video went dark.

****

You and the boys entered the elevator to the building, trying your very best to evade security. For two considerably large and well-built men, they looked pretty terrified. It made Dean seem kind of adorable, if you were honest with yourself.

“Set your cell phones to walkie-talkie in case we get separated,” Dean instructed you and Sam.

You obliged.

“How the hell are we gonna find some ancient speck of DNA in a skyscraper?” Sam questioned.

“Well, that creepy storeroom used to be Sandover's office, right?” He pressed the button to floor fourteen, and you subconsciously reached for his wrist as the elevator jolted. You gripped it tightly, and your entire body tensed.

Dean looked down at your hand that was holding his, and your cheeks heated. Quickly, you pulled your hand away as to not make him uncomfortable.

“Elevators?” Dean asked, referring to your fear.

“Heights,” you replied, swallowing harshly.

Dean grabbed your hand again in an attempt to comfort you.

You looked at him sheepishly, but he gave you a light squeeze to let you know it was okay. 

You gave him a small smile, and he returned it.

The elevator dinged to let the three of you off, and you headed down the hallway to the room marked “1444.”

You flanked the shelves on one side, and Dean looked through the shelves on the other. Sam headed over to the desk and began searching through the drawers.

“What the hell are you doing here?” A guard holding a flashlight suddenly asked from the doorway. He had his flashlight beam focused on Sam, and you hoped he hadn’t seen you or Dean yet. You ducked behind the bookshelf you were searching.

“Man, listen. Look,” Sam pleaded as the guard took him away by the arm. “It's okay. I—I work here.” 

The guard shut the door behind him and Sam, and you took the opportunity to rush over and lock it behind them.

“You think he’ll be okay?” you whispered to Dean.

He nodded. “He’ll figure something out.” “How do you know?”

“Seems like a smart kid,” Dean shrugged.

“ ‘Kid’? And how do you know?” you snorted.

Dean thought for a moment. “You ask a lotta questions, you know that?”

You giggled.

Suddenly, you heard a sickening crunch from your phone. “Sam?” you called.

“Hey. You okay?” Dean asked into the speaker on his phone.

After a few moments, Sam said, ��Call you back.”

You and Dean shared a look, and the two of you shrugged in unison. You then continued your search. 

You walked over to Dean who was holding a picture of a Sandover Bridge from the company’s early days. In slight sadness, you sighed.

“What?” Dean asked. He turned over his shoulder slightly to look at you but was careful not to bump into you with the proximity. 

You stayed frozen to the spot directly behind his left shoulder, staring down at the picture. “I don’t know. I think Sam’s right, I guess,” you replied after careful thought. “I think I wanna be more than… bridges and paperwork.”

Dean searched your face, but you continued to trace your eyes over the black-and-white image. 

“I mean, don’t get me wrong,” you clarified, “you’re great, and all, but I don’t just wanna continuously be a sidekick in someone else’s life. It… it feels like I’m constantly living for someone else. I wanna be the star— the- the superhero sometimes, y’know?”

Dean nodded. “I get it,” he said, turning to face you a bit more. The amount of space between you did not seem to increase, though.

You scoffed playfully. “Sure, you do, Mr. Director of Sales and Marketing.”

He chuckled. “If it makes any difference to you, you are my superhero, sometimes, y’know?” He cleared his throat, seeming to realize what he said. “I mean, you’re instrumental to everything I do. Without you, the ship wouldn’t keep running.”

“I guess you’re right,” you shrugged. “Thanks, Dean.”

“Yeah, no problem,” he replied. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say he was leaning in to you in the dim light. You took a deep breath and moved away, effectively creating more space between the two of you. 

****

When your search was complete, you landed on one of the company’s history display on floor twenty-two. Dean told Sam to meet the two of you up there, and he’d bizarrely warned you to take the stairs.

However, when he entered the room, it became clear to you why. 

“That’s a ton of blood, Sam,” you noted, seeing the splatter on his yellow shirt. “What the hell happened?”

“Guard,” Sam explained shortly. “Elevator. Uh… decapitation.” He made a gesture of the elevator coming down to chop the guard’s head off from above.

“Gnarly,” you grimaced.

“Right. So, uh, in there.” Dean pointed to a glass case containing a pair of gloves.

Sam noted, “P. T. Sandover's gloves.”

Dean made a clicking sound. “Yeah, how much you wanna bet there's a little smidge of DNA in there? You know, like a fingernail clipping or a hair or two? Something.”

“So, you ready?”

Dean blew out a puff of air. “I have no idea.”

“Me neither,” said Sam.

You shook your head but grabbed a fire poker anyway. 

Sam and Dean followed your lead by grabbing a container of salt and the other poker respectively.

“Go for it.” Sam gestured at you and Dean.

“Right,” Dean gulped, and you rolled your eyes with a small smile. 

You gave the glass a solid whack, and it shattered upon impact. Suddenly, you were flying through the air along with the two boys. Quickly, you scrambled to your feet just in time to see Sam throwing a bit of salt at Sandover. The ghost thankfully dissipated before it could get any closer to Sam.

“(Y/N)!” Dean shouted at you, and you caught the iron poker he threw at you like a reflex. You swung fiercely behind you, and you turned around just in time to see Sandover disappear again.

“Nice catch,” Dean told you, a slight air of bewilderment in his voice.

“Thanks,” you replied, staring down at the poker strangely. That fight almost made you feel like your body was possessed by someone trained in combat. 

Then, Sandover appeared behind Sam.

“Sam, look out!” you yelled, and he threw salt behind him.

The fight that followed was mostly orchestrated by you and Dean against Sandover while Sam tried to make his way over to the gloves. It fell upon you and Dean to defend him, and the two of you did so in a way that was uncomfortably effortless.

You and Dean subconsciously pressed yourselves back-to-back and circled around waiting for Sandover to materialize again.

Sam grabbed the gloves, and Dean lunged forward to hit at Sandover with the poker while the taller man lit the gloves on fire. 

Sam dropped the burning gloves to the ground, and Sandover appeared again to burn into nothing.

Breathlessly, Sam said, “That was amazing.”

****

“You got a first-aid kit?” you asked Dean. The three of you had gone back to his office to clean each other up.

He nodded and reached into the bottom drawer of his desk, then handed it to you. When he handed it to you, you noticed a nasty cut on his cheekbone. You sucked in a breath through your teeth and hissed. “You mind if I take a look at that?”

He hesitated but ended up nodding.

You gingerly cleaned the wound with a cotton pad and hydrogen peroxide, and Dean winced. “I’m sorry,” you told him.

“Y’know I can fix myself up, right?” he asked.

You nodded, heat rising to your cheeks again.

Dean still just let you continue your work before you moved on to Sam. When you went to address a wound on your arm, Dean shook his head and took the cloth pad from you. You offered a small smile, trying your best not to seem too bashful.

“Man, I gotta tell you,” Dean chuckled, “I've never had so much fun in my life.”

“Me neither,” Sam grinned.

“Was a hell of a workout, too, wasn't it?”

“We should keep doing this.”

“I know,” Dean replied.

Sam insisted, “I mean it. There gotta be other ghosts out there. We could help a lot of people.”

“Like the Ghostfacers,” you added, your voice a little smaller than you would have liked.

“No, really. I mean, for real,” Sam continued.

Dean snorted. “What? Like, quit our jobs and hit the road?”

Sam nodded, and you scrunched your brows together in confusion.

“How would we live?” Dean asked. 

The brunet didn’t have an answer. 

“You gotta be kidding me,” Dean scoffed. “How would we get by? With stolen credit cards? Huh? Eating diner food drenched in saturated fats? Sharing a crap motel room every night?”

“That's all just details,” Sam shrugged.

“Details are everything. You don't wanna go fighting ghosts without any health insurance.”

A silence settled over you.

“Alright, um, confession.”

You and Dean turned to Sam.

“Remember those dreams I told you about with the ghosts?” Sam asked. “I was fighting them.” He sucked in a breath, seeming uncomfortable. “With… the two of you. We were these, like, hunters, and we were friends. And we—” he gestured between himself and Dean, “were more like brothers, really. I mean, what if that's who we really are? I mean, you saw us back there, working together. The ghost was scrambling people's brains. What if it scrambled ours?”

You considered while Dean said, “That's insane.”

“Is it? Think about it for just one second. What if we think this is our life, but it's not?” Sam continued.

“Hey, man, the ghost is dead and we're still standing. I mean, I'm sorry, but—”

Sam cut Dean off. “Look, all I know is this isn't who we're supposed to be.”

“No. I'm Dean Smith, okay? Director of Sales and Marketing. I went to Stanford. My father's name is Bob, my mother's name is Ellen, and my sister's name is Jo,” Dean stated, getting to his feet.

“When was the last time you talked to them? To any of them?” Sam questioned, standing as well.

“Okay, you're upset. You're upset, you're confused—”

“Yeah, 'cause I only moved here 'cause I just broke up with my fiancée, Madison. But I called her number, and I got a damn animal hospital,” the taller man said.

You stood, too. “Dean—”

“Okay, what are you saying?” Dean scoffed. “Are you trying to say that my family isn't real? Huh? That we've been injected with fake memories? Come on.”

“Dean, maybe he has a point—” you tried. 

“You’re seriously not going along with this, are you?” Dean asked.

“No, I’m just saying—”

Dean cut you off again. “C’mon, (Y/N).”

“All I know is,” Sam jumped back in, “I got this feeling in my gut. And I know— I know that deep down, you gotta be feeling it too. We're supposed to be something else. You're not just some corporate douchebag. This isn't you. I know you.”

Dean scoffed. “Know me? You don't know me, pal. You should go.”

Sam looked like he wanted to say something more, but instead, he just headed to the door. You collected your stuff and moved to follow him out. 

“Not you, too,” Dean muttered.

You turned around. “Dean, I don’t know what is going on,” you told him. “I don’t want to live on the lam, but I also don’t want to stay here and just ignore whatever’s happened. I don’t know what the right thing to do right now is, okay?” You sighed, voice softening a bit. “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” You turned for the door again.

Dean admitted quietly, “I don’t, either.”

You turned back around. “What?”

“I don’t know what the right answer is, either,” he said, more confidently this time. He hesitantly moved over to you. “What I do know is that we made a really great team earlier.”

You smiled lopsidedly. “Yeah, we did.”

“And… I can’t believe I’m saying this—” he murmured, continuing to approach you.

Your heart began to race, cheeks flushing.

“—but whatever you do, I’ll do, too. I trust you.” Dean stopped when the two of you were just inches apart.

You looked up at him with doe eyes. “I gotta think about it.”

He nodded. “Okay.”

****

The next morning, you felt resolute in your decision. Hardly minding the height of the building on your walk into the lobby, you marched up to Dean’s office while trying to gather your courage.

When you opened and closed the door to the office, though, an unfamiliar voice came from behind you. 

“Ah, (Y/N),” the voice said.

You wheeled around to face an older man who seemed strangely familiar, but you couldn’t quite place his identity. He unsettled you.

“Good of you to join us,” he continued.

“Oh, (Y/N), this is Mr. Adler,” Dean told you as the two men sat down. 

“What’s going on?” you questioned.

“We were just discussing Mr. Smith’s future at the company,” Mr. Adler explained.

“Oh,” you said, slightly dejected. If Dean followed through on his statement to you from the previous night, you’d be ruining a really solid opportunity for him.

“Wanna make sure he’s not going anywhere,” Adler chuckled. “And you, too, missy. You’re both Sandover material. Real go-getters. Carving your own way.”

“Well, uhm,” you laughed awkwardly. “About that…”

Dean’s and Adler’s eyes were nearly burning holes into you, but you were focused on quite literally anything else in the room.

“Is something wrong?” Adler questioned, looking between you and Dean.

Dean took off his headset. “Uh, well, thank you. Thank you, sir. It's, um...but… I am giving my notice,” he said.

“This is a joke,” the older man scoffed. “You're kidding me, right?” He was just as stunned as you were. 

“No. I've—I recently—uh, very recently realized that I have some other work I have to do. It's, uh, very important to me.” 

“Other work? Another company?” Adler rushed out.

“No, I—” 

You cut Dean off from answering the man. “I don’t want to speak for us both, but… I'll be leaving, too.” Adler grinned widely.

You were confused by that and even further unsettled. “Is something wrong?” you asked.

“Finally,” he said. He pressed two fingers to your forehead, and the world around you seemed to dim. 

“What the fuck,” you murmured, blinking at the world around you. Then, you jumped back in surprise at the man in front of you. “No…”

Dean seemed to have come back to as well. “What the hell? Why am I wearing a tie? My god, am I hungry.”

The older man before you laughed. “Welcome back.”

“Zachariah,” you breathed out, backing toward the door. Given how Uriel had treated you and the stories he’d told you about this particular angel, you were frightened of him.

“In the flesh,” the angel said.

“Oh, great. That's all I need is another one of you guys,” Dean scoffed, seeming to have caught on.

“I'm hardly another one, Dean. I'm Castiel's superior. Believe me, I had no interest in popping down here into one of these smelly things,” Zachariah sneered, gesturing at his body, “but back when you were stuck in the Pit, the higher-ups felt it necessary I pay a visit. And now I see why after the business with Uriel. Gotta get my ducks in a row.”

“I am not one of your ducks,” Dean grunted, moving toward you slowly. You were frozen near the door.

“Starting with your attitude,” Zachariah stated dryly.

“Oh, so, what? This was all some sort of a lesson; is that what you're telling me? Wow, very creative.”

“Dean, stop,” you begged.

He glanced over at you in concern. Your tone had seemingly put him off. 

“You’d do well to listen to her,” the angel stated. 

“What are we doing here?” you asked, trying to get the heat off Dean. “Was this just a dream?”

“Not at all. Real place, real haunting,” the angel explained. “Just plunked you in the middle without the benefit of your memories.”

“Just to shake things up? Hm?” Dean pressed. “So you guys can have fun watching us run around like ass clowns in monkey suits?”

“To prove to you that the path you're on is truly in your blood. You're a hunter. Not because your dads made you, not because god called you back from hell, but because it is what you are. And you both love it,” replied Zachariah. “You'll find your way to it in the dark every single time, and you're miserable without it. Guys, let's be real here. You're good at this. You'll be successful. You will stop it.”

“Stop what? The apocalypse, huh? Lucifer? What? Be specific, man.” Dean had finally come to a stop next to you, and you grabbed his wrist to try and stop him from aggravating Zachariah further.

“You'll do everything you're destined to do. All of it,” the older man stated. “But I know, I know. You're not strong enough. You're scared. You got daddy issues. You can't do it. Right?”

Dean’s jaw stiffened. “Angel or not, I will stab you in your face.” “Stop it,” you begged him, your breath catching in your throat.

“All I'm saying is it's how you look at it. Most folks live and die without moving anything more than the dirt it takes to bury them. You get to change things,” Zachariah shrugged, pacing the room a bit. “Save people, maybe even the world. All the while you drive a classic car and fornicate with this lovely woman.”

You grimaced, staring at the floor.

“This isn't a curse. It's a gift. So for God's sakes, Dean, quit whining about it,” Zachariah continued. “Look around. There are plenty of fates worse than yours; so are you with me? You wanna go steam yourself another latte? Or are you ready to stand up and be who you really are?”

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-nesmith @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @chervbs @nesnejwritings @stillhere197 @tearsforhan @take-it-on-the-run @iloveyou2mia @maxinehufflepuffprincess @ohgeehowdigethere @seninjakitey @berarenado @s0urw00lf @princessleahorgana @quarterhorse19 @isla-finke-blog @silverdoragon @karacaroldanvers @gayandfairycore @examishbookwyrm @star-yawnznn @real-sharena-h @fandomloverrr @metalmonki @onlyangel-444 @yu-winchester @benniwiththefanni @daisychaingirl @immagods @missmieux @yoongi-holland @littledebbieinabigworld

[literallys-illiteracy]

New Zwei West designs

i'm not the biggest fan of the new Zwei West designs, which were revealed yesterday during the PM stream.

I'm aware that they're meant to be inspired by Western mediaevil knights, likely in relation to Don Qui's chapter which releases soon after; I'm not sure if they will be related like Oufi Heathcliff was to the following season or if they will have some plot significance during the Canto, it could go either way.

The main reason i'm not a fan of the new designs is they don't feel very knightly, nor do they feel the most cohesive with the other association designs we've seen so far.

Here is a shittily annotated copy of the Zwei image so there's context behind these ramblings:

As an initial note, i feel like the tiny little ecranche/Police badge things [1] aren't doing it for me, the colour matching with the armour makes it unclear whether its a badge or actual section of the armour, but i really don't like how it looks; if a police badge needs to be incorporated into the design because of Zwei association, even though they have Sigillary of the association on their shoulder [14] and Leg plates [3], then i think that it would work better connected to the utility belt that both designs have [5] [8] (also why is the belt so fucking high up on [8]?)

I really think that the Dress suit-collars [4] Sticking out from under the armour, the idea of them showing up to their office in the same Suit and ties as the regular Zwei fixers before getting into these suits of armour is too silly for my taste: i'm not opposed to designs which involve combat suits, i like the original Zwei designs, as well as the butlers and Ensemble, but the clash between these two visual designs really irks me.

now the first part that i really really hate. What the fuck are the plates on their robes [3]? we can see that they're clearly metal, due to seams between sections and bolts fixing them there, but these serve less than no purpose; Having lightly armoured/unarmoured legs is fairly common for mobility reasons, leather or cloth pants be unarmoured on ground troops is common. I'm stretching my suspension of disbelief for the robes/coat (for this section) [11] [12] itself, as they are fairly common in fantasy, just to note there are of course risks of tripping/having the cloth caught on something, but that passes the rule of cool.

The metal plates [3] on these robes are actively detrimental to combat; as these plates are only supported on the fabric they will weight down on the user, heavily limiting movement, which nulls the entire point of not wearing full plate; as the cloth is loose and hanging, these armour plates wont do much at all to disperse the force of blows, as the impact will be transferred through the metal, into the cloth: this isn't practical, though it may stop the occasional slashing/piercing attack, it will still transfer the energy into the leg beneath, unless there is padding or a gambeson underneath covering the legs, which once again nulls the point of the coat's armour as a whole. The plate on the belt of the leftmost design [10] isn't much better, even though its supported by the belt (presumably on both sides to make it stable), its still going to kill you back and weigh you down, not to mention that the plate goes down almost to the knee, which limits mobility even more, whilst not protecting the most vital sections.

before i continue, i want to consider what happens to the plating on the second's chest [7] if (when, if i have anything to say about it) he bends over, because that's going right into his stomach. This section was added just for the note about him being hot, that's all.

Its kind of disappointing that the Germanic-European mediaevil knight based Zwei fixers don't have a ZWEIhander when the regular fixers do, even though its a perfect fit for these ones; Instead they use a giant sword [6] with a random glowing orange spot. I've never been a fan of the classic "massive fucking sword" design trope and this is no exception at all, i would much prefer that they all use some sort of historical European weapon, especially a crossbow or bill book/Halberd. i do acknowledge that there are people who like the M.F.S design, its just not for me.

i want to note that the two designs shown here use different arm-guards, While [9] is more akin to a Gauntlet connected to a bracer of some sort, only covering the top half of the forearm, while [2] covers the entire forearm akin to a vambrace. For simplicity these two armour sets will be called the Light and Heavy sets respectively

Neither armour set uses a Couter (elbow piece), which is fine for both designs, the vambrace of the heavy suit covering a section of the elbow, and the light set likely focusing on more mobility than raw defence.... for the most part:

There is another major difference between the two sets of armour, the breastplates: While the light set wears something akin to a plackart [4] (below the collar), covering the entire torso and stomach, the Heavy set wears something akin to a crop top which seems to stop right after his tits and before the belt [8], taking the word "breastplate" very literally. because of this, im no longer referring to these different suits as Light and Heavy because neither seems to be one more than the other one is; In order to match this, they will now be referred to as the Hight and Leavy armour sets. im starting to understand his plating at [7] because his stomach is completely exposed by the looks of it.

And my final point unless i decide to write more, in which case there will be a paragraph underneath this section, is the Robes worn by he Hight set: the robes marked under [11] are nice, i like these as a design, they don't drop too low, they looks fairly thick but still mobile and i really have no problems with these. the cloak in [12] does not get any compliments, it serves no purpose and can act as a way for opponents to trip you or for you to get caught on during battle; the reason that the coats at [3] get a pass (only on accounts of tripping hazard, not the plates) is because those are short enough and weighed down enough that they are somewhat realisatic, similar to [11], as it seems that the robe is an undercoat while wearing the armour (even though they have suits).

I'm not the biggest fan of these, no there will not be an analysis of the Devyat association because i don't have any/as many problems with their design from what we've seen (although their magic bag looks like a boombox, also its giving Yuna from dawn office?)

also while writing the tags to finish this off i realised i never talked about the boots [13], oopsie, 7/10, not terrible cavalry boots

[thran-duils]

Lost in Zero Gravity (P.2)

Title: Lost in Zero Gravity (Part Two) Summary:  Fem!Reader x Mob Boss!Tony Stark x Mob Boss!Steve Rogers.  Reader is a call girl who runs high end parties. She catches the attention of Tony Stark who invites her back to his room with his friend. She might have performed too well because she becomes their new favorite play toy and they don’t like to share. Words: 3,072 Warnings (for the fic in entirety): Smut, prostitution, infidelity, angst, domestic violence, stalking, possessive behavior Author’s Note: Song inspo for this fic

Part One || Part Three || Masterpost (mobile) || Fanfic masterpost

“You must have made a really good first impression,” Tatiana commented, blowing out a ring of smoke. Her charcoal lined eyes creased with her pleased smile.

You shrugged, “I was just working.”

“Don’t try to be modest now. It’s not becoming on you,” she laughed in response.

She had called you into her office to tell you that you had been specifically requested for an assignment. It seemed Tony and Steve’s mob were going to be taking a vacation and they wanted you available. You were not one to turn down a paid vacation, especially if they were going to be there. As dangerous as they were, they had been a good fuck and Tony had made sure to get you off. That was far more than probably eighty percent of the people you had been with since you started working the service.

You hated the smell of the cigarette smoke and it was always the hovering stench in her office. She was going to kill herself far too young and maybe shave a few years off your life in return for however she made you stand in here. You adored her, there was no doubt about that. But you wished she would kick the habit.

“Where are they going?” you asked, feigning that you were contemplating about refusing the assignment.

“Riviera Maya.” You narrowed your eyes and she said, “It’s in Mexico.”

An inclusive resort no doubt. It could be fun. Maybe you could ask someone to travel with you so you would not be completely alone when they were not wanting to bed you. Or maybe not… some time alone might do you well.

Tatiana added, “Wives are going to be there though.”

“So, why am I gonna be there?” you asked honestly.

Tatiana snorted, “Oh, stellina.” She took another deep inhale exhaling as she said, “There are so many things there to keep the spouses occupied. They’re rarely together except for dinner. It’s just for appearances.”

Rich people’s lives sounded exhausting.

“You just need to be out in the open, keeping yourself available for them whenever they have an opportunity to slip away and have some fun with you. Otherwise, just keep yourself occupied with the beach and nice drinks. I know you hate suntanning but there are shops to poke around in. I know you like shopping.”

“That I do.”

“Maybe they’ll give you extra.”

“I don’t want to go around trying to get greedy.”

Tatiana smirked at that. “That’s my girl. I trained you well.”

<><><>

Pushing your sunglasses up onto your head, you hopped up onto one of the barstools on the bar you had just walked by and circled back to. You had yet to see either Tony or Steve and you had been here since yesterday. The place was relaxing and the room was great. You had basically sunk into the bed, having one of the best nights of sleep you had had in a long while without any noise from Elisha in her room along your wall back home. Leaning over the counter, you asked for a strawberry lemonade.

“Strawberry lemonade? It’s a party, dollface.”

You recognized that voice and you straightened back up, turning your head to look in his direction.

Steve was standing there, leaning on the counter. He was a sight for sore eyes. He was only in swim trunks, aviator glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. That did not hide the fact you knew his eyes were running unabashedly over your body. Your stomach fluttered at the sight of him, thinking of how he handled you last time.

“I bought this specifically for this vacation,” you said, hopping down from the stool and turning around for him to let him see the whole suit. When you turned back around, he was grinning. “It looks good right?”

He nodded, “You look damn sexy.”

“That’s what I like to hear.”

“My wife is here,” Steve said, and you frowned instantly at this immediate change in conversation. Was he trying to kill the mood so quickly? He said, “I know. She’s got her little masseuse guy here to keep her entertained, so I should be able to have my own fun. But I’m trying to be good.”

Picking up on his hint, you sauntered towards him. Your hand came up, resting on his chest. “Why do you have to be good if she isn’t being good?”

“I had to hold it in until she ran off,” he told you.

You pulled his sunglasses down to see his eyes, keeping them on the bridge of his nose. You smiled when you were able to actually meet his gaze.

“Well, when do you get to not be good?”

“Right now,” he said and you smiled in response. “It’s why I came and found you. I saw you yesterday. Wandering around. Took everything in me to not come up to you. Looked like you found yourself a nice little boyfriend though?”

“He was trying really hard but no… no dice for that guy,” you told him.

You pushed his glasses back up and your arms wrapped around his neck. He grinned back at you, his fingers tracing along your exposed back.

“I’m assuming you’re liking what you’re seeing?”

“Very much,” he murmured, his fingers playing with the hem of your suit.

You nuzzled your nose to his. “Hmm. So we know where this is going?”

<><><>

You stood in front of the mirror, completely bare. Steve had brought you back to their villa. Tony’s wife was gone, off to a spa treatment. The room had a wide door open to the patio overlooking the ocean. There was a hot tub and pool on the patio and although you wanted to indulge, you refrained. You got undressed for them instead, waiting for them to get antsy enough to take charge. It did not take long as you predicted.

Tony came up from behind you, nude as well. His hands ran across your breasts, cupping.

“Don’t you look marvelous…” he murmured, his fingers tweaking at your erect nipples. You bucked ever so slightly, and he smirked. His nose came to nuzzle into the nape of your neck. “I knew I chose right… a perfect gem.”

“You still seem to like what you’re seeing?”

He chuckled, one hand snaking down to toy with the top of your sex.

“You’re gonna look even better underneath that mirror.”

You turned in his arms, your forehead pressing against his. “A man that likes to review his work. I don’t know if I should be worried.”

“I didn’t get to where I am by being a half ass.”

Steve was at your other side and he enveloped you to him. To both of them, you asked, “Any critiques?”

“Loaded question,” Steve chuckled. “I mean, the biggest is you haven’t sunk one of your holes on either of us. I mean, it’s been a whole five minutes. What’s the hold up?”

“Sorry, I was enjoying the company.”

He kissed the tip of your nose lightly, “And I’m sorry for being so charismatic.”

“I’m assuming you can’t multitask then? Be charismatic and fuck me at the same time?”

A low growl left his mouth now, “You’ve got a mouth on you.”

“Are you complaining?”

“Not at fucking all,” he told you pulling you over to the bed.

Steve was looking upwards, and you knew he was taking in the sight of you hovering over him as you sunk onto his length in the ceiling mirror. His eyes were swimming with arousal and you hoped to always be the cause for that.

<><><>

“Y/N, you got a gift,” Wendy said, pointing at the table as you walked into the brothel’s kitchen. You had come in to get a drink but smiled seeing the bouquet and gift.

“Really?” you asked, letting your backpack fall from your shoulder and along with your carry-on drop to the ground. You had just gotten back from Mexico; that was quick if it was from who you thought it was. Upon seeing the flowers, you knew your assumption had been correct. They had asked you what your favorite flowers were and even though that was extremely obvious why they were asking, you had told them all the same.

The bouquet was large and there was a nice heart balloon in the center. You smiled, leaning in and smelling the flowers deeply.

“Where’d you get those from?” Elisha asked, coming into the kitchen. You shrugged, smiling sheepishly, and she rolled her eyes, giving a little laugh, “I know exactly where those came from.”

“There’s also this,” you said picking up the gift bag from beside it, waving it at her.

“That’s dangerous,” Elisha commented, grabbing the bloody mary that Wendy had made her. They must have had a rough night.

You shrugged again, opening the bag. Your lips curled into a smile as you pulled out a bright blue teddy. “Cute,” you giggled. Elisha and Wendy shook their heads, taking a drink. You held it up against your body and asked, “Think they want me to wear it for next time?”

“I don’t think they bought it for shits and giggles,” Wendy snorted. “How was the trip?”

“It was nice.”

“Good to hear it. You should relish in this.”

“Oh, I am,” you said, putting the teddy back into the bag. You thought of the extra money that Steve had tucked into your bag, remembering that you should tuck that away. It was smarter to not spend all the money that was thrown at you. That is what fools did; you needed to think ahead.

<><><>

The dress was loose and casual, perfect for the saloon they had asked you to meet them at. They had sent a car for you and met you at the curbside. When you got out, you looked around, cocking an eyebrow at the sight of them dressed in nice, pressed jackets. You were going into a dive bar, what were they doing?

Tony took your arm, Steve trailing behind. “Hmm, a sun pattern,” Tony commented, his fingers pulling at the fabric of your dress.

You gripped his arm, smiling. “I like to be a shining beacon in people’s lives.”

Tony chuckled in response, his grip tightening on your waist. The bouncer did not ask for your IDs; they must know them. It was dimly lit, packed. There were dancers on the stage and your eyes were drawn to their movements. The woman dancing had curves to die for.

“Where we going?” you asked as they led you through the bar. Your eyes ran around the tables the further you went in. Did they have a reservation?

“For the real party, sweetheart,” Tony told you, his lips brushing your ear. You shivered at the touch.

It was dark back here and you tensed. Tony felt it, a light chuckle leaving his lips. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I got you.”

Two men were standing in front of a door and they opened it when they saw the three of you approaching. There was a table with a group of other men, looking like they were waiting for the three of you. There were a handful of other women sitting around the perimeter of the room behind the players. They made brief eye contact with you, sizing you up quickly before averting their eyes again.

“Took you fucking long enough,” one of them drawled at Tony and Steve.

“Sorry, we were waiting for our lucky dame,” Tony returned.

Tony kissed your hand as you sat, before he turned away and sat in his chair. Steve’s hand grazed you affectionately, before he sat down as well.

You sat quietly, watching them play. It was poker, that much you knew. It was intense, the tension in the room could be cut with a knife. They were taking this seriously and you surmised they were gambling a bunch of money.

Steve was staring across the table at the first man who had spoken to them when they walked in, his eyes narrowed. The other man was not flinching but something must have been a tell for Steve because he pushed chips forward.

“Well, senator… I’m gonna raise you,” Steve commented.

Your heart stopped a bit, hearing him call him that. Your eyes narrowed at the man across the table. You did not pay attention to politics but the way the man’s face scrunched at Steve’s tone… you knew he had to be one. A senator. What had you let them drag you into?

The man chewed on his lip before throwing his cards down on the table without showing what they were.

Steve’s mouth broke into a wide grin and he held out his hands.

“Fuck you, Rogers,” the man snarled before getting up from the table. He buttoned his suit jacket, leaving the room without a second glance.

“Sore loser,” Steve commented, much to the amusement of the other men at the table to your surprise. You thought they would be more angry about losing the money they had but maybe the man had been a common enemy.

They gathered up the chips, tossing them into a bag. Tony’s hand snaked around your waist.

“Wanna spend this?” Tony asked, grinning broadly, holding the bag up to you as he guided you towards the door. You giggled and he kissed your cheek. “Steve’s treated us. But especially you, baby.”

<><><>

Pulling your dress back on over your head, you straightened it, making sure it was covering your ass. It was short and you did not need to be flashing anyone on the sidewalk.

“You sure you don’t want me to order you a cab…?” the man asked from behind you, taking a long drag on his joint. He was still lying in bed, watching you get dressed.

Confidently, you turned around, fluffing your hair. You shook your head, “It’s not too far. I’ll be fine.”

“You’re a tough cookie,” he said, shooting you a smile.

“I try to be,” you said winking at him, grabbing your purse.

You left his place quickly, heading back to the brothel. It was not a lie, it was not far.

The distance did not matter though when it came to what was waiting for you outside.

A hand closed around your arm, yanking you into an alley. You screamed but another hand slapped across your mouth as you were slammed up against the wall. Your heart was pounding, your eyes wide in fear staring at your assailant.

Your fear melted away to a mixture of anger and disgust. You would recognize those hazel eyes anywhere. You had stared into them far too many times as he towered over you, beating you into submission. You had run away from them far too many times, locking yourself in the bedroom until he got tired of trying to beat the door down.

Garnering strength from a place you did not know existed, you shoved him away, much to his surprise. He did not expect you to fight back, and he stumbled back.

“Have you been fucking following me?” you demanded, your chest heaving.

“Just interested to see what you’ve been doing since you ran off. Looks like you are visiting a bunch of men,” Jared sneered at you, getting back on his game and closing the space between you. Your fists clenched by your sides and he noticed, smirking. “You gonna hit me?”

“No,” you spat.

“So, what’s got you leaving someone’s apartment this time of night, baby?”

“That is none of your business.”

He shoved you back into the wall and you winced against the cement scratching at your skin. You swallowed it though, clenching your jaw, glaring at him. You were acting far braver than you felt. Jared always had the power to make you feel small and weak and it seemed just his presence had that same power. You felt just as helpless as you did a year and a half ago. He was frightening; you knew what violence he could unleash.

“What’s this?” Jared asked, yanking at your purse.

“Nothing, it’s my purse!” you said, your hands closing around it to try to yank it back from him.

���Looks pretty expensive, Y/N… Marc Jacobs? What have you been up to?”

He gave another hard yank, and the chain broke and you hissed against the pressure against your shoulder as it snapped away from you. You reached for it and he shoved you back again, harder this time and you let out a pained noise. Your eyes searched the buildings that surrounded you, hoping someone would be looking out the windows and be able to come to help you. It looked like no such luck.

He yanked out the hundreds the man you had just left had given you.

His eyes were dark, glowering at you. “Where’d you get this?”

“From work!”

His backhand was swift, knocking you off balance. But he was there to catch your falling momentum only to slam you up against the wall for the third time, his forearm pressed into your throat. You gasped, trying to breathe.

“You left me to spread your legs all over the city?”

“What are you talking about?” you exclaimed pitifully, trying to deny it. Your hands clawed at his arm and he only pressed in harder, making you gasp more desperately.

“I saw you go into that building with that man. Yes, I was following you! And you come back out with all this money? I shouldn’t be surprised. You always were a worthless slut.”

Tears pricked at your eyes and he growled, “You always did cry too soon for my liking.”

Your purse fell to the ground and his other hand reached up between your legs. You tried to fight him, and he socked you this time. Your head knocked against the wall and you saw stars.

Jared pushed away and you crumpled to the ground, gasping for air. You squeezed your eyes tightly, trying to gain back some sense of balance.

“Hey!” you heard someone shout from far off.

All you could see was Jared’s shoes coming in and out of your vision. You felt a sharp pain in your stomach making you lose all your breath before his shoes were gone. You blinked again before losing consciousness as you saw a new pair of shoes come into your line of sight.

~~~

Tags: coconutqueen21

[bluewhale52]

Little Black Book: The One You Hate (M)

Summary: There are a few names in your Little Black Book, and these seven hold a special place in your heart. Now that you are closing that chapter in your life, you reminisce the time and experience you have had with your seven favourite men, especially with Kim Seokjin, the one you hate.

Pairing: Seokjin x female reader

Rating: Explicit. NO MINORS ALLOWED.

Genre: nonidol!au, strangers to lovers, friends with benefit

WC: 3.9k

Warning: swearing, car blowjob, ass slapping, OC loves going down on Seokjin, sex against a window, sex between coworkers, love-hate relationship between OC and Seokjin (more on OC). I guess that’s about it….

A/N: Many, many, many thanks to @rainbhrts94​ for beta-ing this piece. I was experiencing a burnout and having a hard time putting all my thoughts together, and her reviews and suggestions totally helped getting this fic into its final form. Thank you!!  Also, I’m a total dodo when it comes to Tumblr so with some help from @aroseforyoongi​ and @moccahobi​, I’m reposting this with hope that the link works this time round!

Series Masterlist:  Little Black Book

Kim Seokjin was the bane of your existence. 

The cocky, arrogant IP attorney from the New York office had everyone on your floor in an uproar for weeks. You had seen him making one of the conference rooms his home away from home, with a hoard of lawyers and secretaries going in and out at his beckoning. You were watching them with jealousy. Sure, you were a mere junior in the firm and therefore the lowest in the food chain (just slightly above the interns), but you really wanted to be part of the action. 

Then, somehow, during his  last few days in Seoul, you were picked to help him and his team. Your excitement soon turned sour, as you were constantly on coffee and photocopy duties. How could you prove your worth when you were too busy being worked as Kim Seokjin’s personal server? Why couldn’t he ask one of his groupies? There were plenty of secretaries and PAs throwing themselves at him; you bet one of them would be happy to do this… THIS menial job. It was truly beneath your job description, and you started to simply, truly hate the man.

If that was really the case though, how did you end up in his luxury rental car, bending over towards the driver seat, sucking his cock? How did your mouth end up around his shaft, while your saliva dripped down and coated your fingers around his base? Why were your panties getting wetter with every moan and groan that left his lips? Why did you wish he would just spank your ass instead of tugging your hair? Why, when he came, did you gobble up his seed so greedily and lick him clean? Why did you even feel the need to stick your tongue out to him to show him you had swallowed every single drop?

Seokjin exhaled sharply then looked over at you as he tucked himself back in. “You do this with every visiting attorney?” He leered at you.

You rolled your eyes. “Just the one that pisses me off.”

He chuckled. “I should piss you off more then.”

“Are you going to drive me home or what?”

Seokjin started his car. The engine purred, and you pressed your thighs closer together at the soft vibrations that went through the car. “I promised I’d buy you dinner first, didn’t I?”

You flashed him a saccharine smile. “I had a meal already, thanks.”

Seokjin sniggered as he pulled out of the parking lot. He had offered to drive you home - “the least I can do after all your hard work this week” he had said- and while your little apartment was at the other end of the city from the five-star hotel he was staying, it was indeed the least he could do for you. So when you had settled in his car and buckled your seatbelt, after he had asked if he could buy you dinner, you- in your frustration, because you hated him and you just wanted to go home (god, was that too much to ask)- muttered under your breath on how you would rather suck his dick than have dinner with him. 

You had been taken aback when he broke into a brazen smile, challenging you to eat your own words, and damned if you were going to back down. Deep down, you had wanted to see if this perfect man with the perfect face and the perfect suits tailored around his perfect body (he had legs that went for miles, you hated to admit), also had the perfect dick. 

It turned out that he did, and his perfect dick was perfectly hard when you unzipped him. And so, that was how you went down on Kim Seokjin, giving him a near perfect blowjob, in his car, in the basement parking lot of your firm. (Near perfect because honestly, you could have done a lot more had you had more ample space to move.)

You stole a glance at Seokjin as he drove. His side profile was sharp and too good to be true. Flashes of lights only further highlighted his jaw and cheekbones. You looked away, pouting. 

“I’m flying back tomorrow evening.” He broke the silence. “You gonna miss me?”

You scoffed. “You wish. I’ll finally be able to do real work rather than making you coffee.”

He had the gall to laugh. “I’ll be back in two months. Don’t worry.”

The rest of the drive was quiet. How did you get into this? How could you possibly be so horny for him? Was it your dislike for him that made you like this? You should have known better than blowing him in his car just now. What if he started shooting his mouth off in the office? Or worse, in your personal promised land, THE New York office?

“Seokjin,” you started, “about what happened just now, I’d appreciate it if you keep it to yourself.”

“Of course, I’m not Yuna.”

You tilted your head at the name. Yuna was one of the senior partners’ secretary. “What do you mean?”

He raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t know? She’s been telling everyone how good I was in bed.”

“You slept with her?” You couldn’t mask your surprise. “I didn’t hear anything about it. I must’ve been so out of loop with the rumor mills. Wait… Is that why you’ve been asking me to do all that shit? So you don’t have to deal with her?”

“Smart girl.” Seokjin made a turn, stopping just outside your apartment complex. He turned off the engine.

“And here I thought you liked my coffee. And how I photocopied your endless documents.” You said dryly. “Thanks for the ride.”

Seokjin stopped you before you exited his car. “Aren’t you going to invite me to your place?”

You chortled. “Why, you need a goodbye fuck?” You spat it out, but internally, you hoped your playing hard to get was not going to backfire. 

“Hmm,” Seokjin looked out of the car, eyeing your apartment building. “What kind of bedsheets do you have?”

“What do my bedsheets have to do with anything?”

“500 thread count? Or pure linen?” 

You opened the car door and got out. “Bye Seokjin.”

He got out too, walking you to the main entrance. “I’ll buy you some. For next time I’m here. Two months from now.”

You scanned your access card, but he stopped you from opening the door.

“Not gonna kiss me goodnight, sweetheart?”

You turned to him and leaned forward. But instead of kissing him, you stuck your tongue out and licked him, along his jaw, all the way to his ear. You did not miss the shiver that ran through his body when you closed your lips around his earlobe. Smiling smugly,  you opened the door, and as you were about to walk into your safe haven triumphantly, Seokjin slapped your ass. You stilled yourself, not giving him the satisfaction of seeing your reaction. 

“See you in two months, sweetheart.” You heard him chuckle as the door closed behind you.

Kim Seokjin was truly the bane of your existence. 

~~~

He returned to Seoul in two months. You were not keeping track on your calendar, no of course not. You just knew because the commotion was back, as it always was when he stepped into the office. He picked you again to assist his team (Yuna gave you an evil eye for that), and at the end of the work day, when you were filing papers and folders, he slipped a small envelope into your hand. 

“Open it at your desk.” He said in a low whisper. 

You looked at the envelope quizzically before putting it into your pocket. “Is it your credit card? To buy pure linen bed sheets?” You whispered back. 

“Sweetheart, I already bought you a few sets from New York.”

You snorted. Later, when you were back at your desk, you took the envelope out and opened it. You found a note with a gold monogram of Seokjin’s initials at the top. You laughed at the ridiculousness of it. Under his insignia, was a series of digits you assumed to be his mobile number. You saved it in your phone. 

There was something else in the envelope, however. A piece of key card, with the logo of the five-star hotel on one side, and handwritten 4-digit number on the other.  Your eyes widened. Was this an invitation to his hotel room?

You peered out of your cubicle like a meerkat, trying to find where Seokjin was. Then you remembered foolishly you had his number. So you immediately texted him.

– You [18:40] : Seokjin, WTF??? 

– You [18:40] : also, nice stationery

– You [18:40] : it’s me btw

– Seokjin [18:41] : hurry the fuck up. I’ve been waiting for you in my car

You smiled. The time had finally come, you were going to fuck Kim Seokjin.

~~~

You had to admit, high quality bed sheets felt amazing. It hugged your naked body like soft clouds as Seokjin pounded into you relentlessly. His thrusts had caused your body to move, inch by inch, from one end of the bed to the other. You were not complaining though;  the way he rammed himself into you made your breasts bounce back and forth like a pendulum on a string, the feeling was so delicious.

You gripped the edge of the bed as you watched him over you. His usually perfect hair was messy now, his perfect face was void of the usual laser focus expression you normally saw at work and of the arrogant smirk he liked to give you. His broad shoulders and lean torso filled your vision- you had had fun stroking your hands over his pecs, abdomens and biceps. God, you hated how perfectly hot he was. 

You whined pathetically when he plunged his cock and pushed it as deep as he could into you. Seokjin dropped to his elbows, and you welcomed the new weight on top of your body. He stilled, letting his hardness rest inside you. You wrapped your legs around him and could not help but clench around his cock. He groaned against your chest at the sensations. 

“Do that again, sweetheart,” he nibbled and licked your collarbone, “squeeze my cock again.”

You did as he asked, tightening your walls around him before loosening again, repeating the movements and creating your own erotic Kegel exercise around his cock. You could feel Seokjin’s breath faltering on your neck, and before long, you were careening towards your peak.

“Seokjin,” you gasped, “close.”

He remained still, even at your warning. Choosing to work his lips on your neck and up to your ear instead. Finding a spot behind your ear, he licked and nipped at it, sending shudders all over your body and suddenly pushing you to your release. Seokjin held you down as your body shook, willing himself not to come, but the way your pussy walls massaged his cock, it did him in. 

You and Seokjin held each other tight as you both came. Your fingers dug into his shoulders, his hips pressed harder against yours as he shot his seeds inside you. Finally groans and moans gave way to heavy breathing, and as your heart rate slowed down, sanity returned. 

You opened your eyes. “God, don’t do that EVER again.” You slapped his shoulder. “I’m super ticklish there.”

Seokjin hummed, and nipped at the spot again. You yelped, but in the process you also squeezed his flaccid cock, still sheathed fully in you. “Now I know what to do when you talk too much.” He mumbled. 

You tried to wriggle away from his mouth, but the more he teased your spot, the more you moaned, and the more your body became heated again. You were all ready for round two, but your stomach betrayed you, for it growled shamelessly. Seokjin’s eyes widened at the sound, and the two of you burst out laughing.

“OK, I’d better feed you before I fuck you against the window.” He pulled out of you, holding on to the spent condom on his dick. Walking to the bathroom, he gestured to the phone on the bedside table. “Whatever you order, order the same for me.” 

And that was how you spent your first night with Kim Seokjin. Fucked out of your brains and eating room service food in his luxurious hotel room. 

~~~

You gave Seokjin your Saturday nights whenever he was in town, which was only about three to four times a year.. You hated to admit it, but you enjoyed your time with him. It was obvious he liked your company too, and your arrangement worked out well. You both wanted sex with no strings attached. You enjoyed arguing with each other, although it felt like Seokjin lived solely to rile you up to get a reaction out of you. He said he was training you to hold your poker face better; after all, didn’t you want to be a successful attorney like him?

And that was the situation you found yourself in that evening. Seokjin kept prodding at you until your temper snapped, and you roughly pushed him to the chaise in his room. You quickly worked on his jeans and his boxers, pulling them down to his ankles, only to find his cock already hard and weeping with precum.

You cocked an eyebrow at him. “Making me angry turns you on so much, huh?” You wrapped your fingers around his shaft, lazily stroking it a few times before squeezing it gently at the base. Seokjin hissed, but his annoying smirk never went away. 

“You can’t shut up your opponents by going down on every one of them,” he teased, his hand reached out to touch your hair but you swatted it away with your free hand, “no matter how sexy you are when you’re angry.”

You scowled as your hand continued stroking him. Keeping your eyes on his, you closed your lips around the head of his cock, your tongue lapping up his precum. Seokjin sucked in a breath. 

“So what should I do then?” You asked before licking up and down his length. Seokjin threw his head back, enjoying the wetness of your tongue on his hot member. 

“Hmmm… “Seokjin moaned. “Learn to control your temper better, sweetheart. You know how our kind is…”

Seokjin took a deep breath. Your tongue was still busy on his cock. It drove you nuts how addicted you were to the taste of him. “… especially to female attorneys..” Seokjin continued.

“Excuse me?!” you sat up straight, but your hand was still around his member, unconsciously squeezing it a little harder than normal.

“Ouch!” Seokjin yelped. “What are you trying to do? Pull my dick off?”

You sniggered, your grip loosened slightly as you continued to stroke him. “Tell me,” he asked, “how did your last case go? You almost lost because the opposing attorney kept throwing jabs at your gender, am I right?”

Your cheeks reddened. “How did you know about that?” you pouted.

“I get regular updates on you, sweetheart, I like to know how my protege is doing.”

You eyed him skeptically. “Wow, I’m so honored.” Your tone was flat, but your hand started pumping his cock faster. You thought back to the moment you nearly lost your temper in court, and you buried the memory deep. You leaned in and started to take Seokjin’s length into your mouth when it suddenly dawned on you.

“Wait,” Seokjin’s cock popped out of your mouth. “Is that why I didn’t get the promotion? I won that case but I didn’t get my promotion because I was too emotional?”

Seokjin groaned, in desire and in frustration. He looked down at you, kneeled between his legs, eyebrows scrunched up, eyes angry, mouth in a pout, and his hardness in the mercy of your hand. He ran a hair through his hair. 

“Now that you recognise the problem, will you solve it?” 

You nodded.

“So can we please continue?” He asked. 

You nodded again before your mouth returned to his cock. You enveloped your lips around the head, sucking it gently and licking it until you heard him moan. You started taking more of him into your mouth, the muskiness of his scent filling your nose. His hands found your head and held it gently, his fingers carding your hair. 

You continued to lubricate him with your saliva, relaxing your mouth and your throat to take all of him in. You steadied your breathing as you sucked in your cheeks, and you slowly pulled out all the way to the tip, before filling your mouth again. “That’s good sweetheart, you know just how I like it.”

You stupidly beamed at his praise, and it encouraged you to pick up your pace, sucking him faster and harder. His breathing was getting heavier, and you massaged his balls, eager for him to cum in your mouth. “No, no,” he pulled your head, and you came up gasping for breath. “I want to be in you now.”

You and Seokjin undressed immediately, and Seokjin went to the bathroom to retrieve a condom. He rolled the rubber as you positioned yourself by the window. The window felt cold on your back, but your core was wet and hot.  Seokjin lifted you up effortlessly, and your legs immediately wrapped around his waist, and your arms around his neck. 

Seokjin spat into his hand and rubbed his saliva over your cunt. Then the blunt head of his cock was at your entry, and he pushed it in, inch by inch until he was fully inside you. Adjusting his grip, ensuring he got you secured between him and the window, he started to move. Slowly at first, and once your juices were flowing and leaking, he went faster. 

You felt sweat developing on your back, making your body slippery against the glass. You dug your fingers into Seokjin’s shoulders, anchoring yourself up as he continued to pound into you. You turned your head to the side, catching the city skyline in the corner of your eye. 

“God, Seokjin,” you whined wantonly, “When I get that New York position, will you fuck me like this with the New York skyline in the background?”

Seokjin huffed, his hips not missing a beat. “Sweetheart, you’ll never get the New York position.”

You snapped your head back to look at Seokjin, he was still thrusting mercilessly into you. You pulled his hair. “What do you mean I will NEVER get the New York position?”

Seokjin’s smirk was back. He pulled out slowly then he rammed himself back into you hard, making you mewl. “It means…”

He took his time thrusting into you again.

“… you will…”

Another slow and hard thrust.

“… never get…”

He was hitting the sweet spot inside you.

“… the New York position.”

You cried out at his last thrust. “Because I’m too emotional?” you asked breathlessly.

“Because… “ his mouth was inching closer to the sensitive spot on your ear, “we’re closing that office.”

You gasped, at the news and at Seokjin’s sudden change of pace. He was fucking you fast again, pressing your body harder against the window. 

“Wait.. ah, Seokjin… “ you said between pants, “does that mean…”  

You could not finish your question because Seokin began nibbling and sucking your ear, sending your body rigid as the pressure on your cunt was waiting to explode.

“Yeah,” Seokjin panted. “I’ll be back in Seoul for good, sweetheart.”

You threw your head back against the window as Seokjin continued pistoning into you, pushing you towards and over your climax. You wailed in pleasure as the heat enveloped you. He did not let up at the slightest, his hips kept thrusting into you ruthlessly even as you began to sob from the oversensitivity.

Seokjin wrapped his arms around you tightly to move you, and you both collapsed on the bed, his cock still secure in you. He rolled to his back, bringing you on top of him. He slapped your ass. “Can you ride me?”

You pushed yourself up with your arms, your hair curtaining Seokjin’s face. You started to move your hips back and forth as you tried to get your breathing back. The sensitivity in your sex slowly turned into pleasure once again, and you quickened your pace. Seokjin moved his hands to your breasts, squeezing the flesh and flicking the nipples as they swung before him.

“Does… does this mean you’re gonna be my boss?” You asked between moans.

“Do you want me to be your boss?” Seokjin tugged your nipples, causing your back to arch.

“You’ll scold me everyday.”

“And I’ll fuck you every Saturday.” He thrusted up to meet your hips. “You like that?”

“Fuck no…” you felt the heat returning back to your core. “I’ll just hate you even more.”

Seokjin slapped your ass. “Just admit it, sweetheart, I’m your favorite among all your other fuck toys.”

You stammered as Seokjin thrusted up again, and he took the opportunity to pull you down onto his chest. Planting his heels on the bed, he held you down as he started thrusting his hips to plunge his cock into you, fast and hard. You closed your eyes tightly and felt tears slipping down your cheeks as you came closer to your climax.

“Come on sweetheart,” Seokjin whispered in your ears, “give me one more. Milk my cock.”

You cried out as your body jolted and shook. Seokjin kept holding you down, chasing his own release too. His thrusting became more messy, and he finally came too, swearing and groaning loudly.

You stayed still on top of Seokjin, your heart beating out of your chest, and so was his. You both lay on the bed, bodies sticky with sweat, waiting for the haze of your orgasms to pass.

“If you become my boss,” you whispered, “I want no special treatment.”

“Of course not, sweetheart. The only special treatment you get is I feed you after sex.”

You chuckled. “Speaking of…”

Seokjin rolled you over and pulled himself out. “Yeah yeah, order whatever you want.”

~~~

Today

Seokjin walks into your room. You barely glance up, used to him barging in whenever he likes.

“So, Yuna told me there’s a tall drink of water waiting for you in the lobby.” He plopped down on the little settee in your office. “So naturally I went to see. And you’d better get there before Yuna devours him.”

You glance at your watch. It’s ten minutes to 7pm. You smile softly, leave it to your boyfriend to arrive early. “He’s my boyfriend. I told you about him.”

Seokjin ahs. “So, that’s the man who took away my Saturday night fun.”

You glare at him as you tidy up your desk. “Yeah well, he feeds me AND reads me poetry after sex. So, sorry.”

Seokjin stands up as you ready yourself to leave. 

“Besides, now we play Maple Story every Saturday, surely that’s more fun?” You tease him. He chuckles and rubs his chin. He accompanies you walking down the hallway towards the lobby. 

Before you arrive at the glass door separating the inner office from the reception area, you turn to Seokjin and ask, “Do you want to meet him?”

Seokjin thinks for a moment. “Does he know about our history?”

“He knows MY history, but I never share any names with him.” you explain. “He only knows you as my asshole boss.”

“Now I am offended. I thought I was a nice boss!”

“Well, I rant about you too much maybe. But he doesn’t mind, because you know what happens when I get riled up.” You wink. 

Seokjin laughs. “What a lucky bastard. OK, come on, introduce your asshole boss to your boyfriend.”

Published 01022021

[trillian-anders]

first blood

pairing: ransom drysdale x reader

warnings:  angst, general asshole-ness.

word count: 4.6k  

description: part 3 of 5. how did you become ransom’s glorified babysitter? and why the fuck are you keeping this job? who knows. you hate it, you hate him, but... the money. 

note: tumblr is being super shitty rn so I can only post on mobile, but I really wanted to get this off my desk! will add a read more and properly link later 💕

prequel to the assistant && four christmases, spoiler free loves. 

You have to do this.

You have to do this.

You have to do this.

You don’t think your eyes will ever feel normal again. They were dry and scratchy. There were no more tears to shed. You’d buried your Mom two months ago, but you didn’t know how it would ever feel okay. She did everything for you and Julia. Everything. She worked hard, made pretty good money, allowed you to have a part time job and just focus on school. Julia was in this really nice private school, she played the cello now for fucks sake. She had friends and was talking about maybe starting soccer soon, but after funeral costs and your sister’s tuition the life insurance money was running out.

You had to sell the house.

You’d moved the two of you into a small apartment right outside of Chinatown. Not the safest area, but not the most unsafe either. You’d be fine. You had each other, and she needed you to do this. You had to do this.

For her.

You sat uncomfortably in the cheap office chair, sitting across from a woman with too many papers on her desk, everything sloppily arranged around a couple of potted succulents and a framed picture of her and her three kids, no spouse.

“So your last job was in tutoring?” She asked you. You shifted nervously in your seat, nodding your head,

“Yeah, I tutored a high school student in English and Math.” You needed some water. The cheap pencil skirt and blouse you were wearing made your skin itch. She types into her computer some more.

“So why are you here?” She asked, “Why not continue tutoring?” A few more clicks and then more typing.

“The family I worked for paid me pretty well,” You admitted, “But she’s graduating this year and they didn’t need me anymore, I don’t really,” You cleared your throat, “I don’t really have much job experience outside of that and I need to start making money now… I’ve put out job applications but haven’t really gotten any luck.” Not with the income you needed anyway. The woman nodded. The plaque on her desk said her name is Stacy Chandler.

“Alright, here you are.” A printed page, address, date, and time. A job. Clerical work. Data entry. You have to do this...

-

“How was your last day of school?” Julia sat heavily at the kitchen table, backpack slumped on the floor next to her. She buried her face in her arms.

“I’m never going again.” Came muffled from her mouth. She lifted her head to look at you. The beginnings of puberty. You’d recently gone bra shopping for the first time. Real ones, no more training bras. You’d recently taken her to the dermatologist for her acne, but she’s not good at remembering to put on the expensive creams you bought. What a hard time. You don’t envy her.

“Luckily for you,” You smiled, placing a fudgy brownie in front of her, “You don’t have to go back for three whole months!” She rolled her eyes heavily, taking the brownie and disappearing into her room presumably to sit on her computer until dinner.

She was feeling the absence of your Mother just as you were. You weren’t sure what to do here. You loved your sister and you know she loves you too, but in the last few months it’s just been closed doors and a few parting sentences. Only because you had to work so much. Only because she spent a lot of time at friend’s houses where you’d think she would feel normal for a while. It would help ease the burden of being in your mid-twenties and suddenly feeling like a single mother. Of course you can sleep over at Mila’s house, her family is going to their cabin for the weekend of course you can go!

You didn’t know what to do other than keeping her in school and alive. You weren’t ready for this. But the only other option was your estranged aunt who reeked of mothballs and was constantly asking you if you were married, or dating, or ‘You’re Mother wouldn’t have wanted this’. No. It was very clear that your Mom wanted the two of you to stay together, and that’s how it’s going to be.

This summer she was going to spend with her friend Mila at their family’s lake house. Mila’s mother was a stay at home mom with six kids under the age of 12 and would be planning to spend the summer pintresting activities and projects with them while simultaneously getting out of her stuffy-old 10 bedroom, 8 bathroom mansion. Lucky her. Lucky Julia.

The apartment would be empty without the 12-year-old pre-teen for three months, but Julia has really been looking forward to it. Her bags were packed and ready by the door.

You hugged her tightly in front of Mila’s house, burying your face in her hair, partially not wanting her to go, but otherwise knowing that she’s going to have a better time than you could ever provide her. “Okay, you can let me go now.” She shifted in your arms, trying to pull away.

“Just another minute.” You mumbled, pulling her in tighter. “I’m gonna miss you.” She laughed,

“I’m gonna miss you too.” The two of you pulled apart and you tucked her hair behind her ears, cupping her sweet face.

“I love you,” You said very seriously, “If you ever want to come home just-”

“I’ll let you know.” She was getting impatient, the car Mila’s mom was taking to the lake house, a beautifully large black Range Rover sat packed next to you, they were waiting. “I love you too.” She slowly backed away towards the car.

“If she gets homesick, my husband still comes back every week for work so he can bring her home if need be,” Andrea was her name, Mila’s Mom. “She’ll be fine.” Andy was really nice. She made a lot of the food the two of you had eaten in the early days after your Mom’s death. Her gentle reassurance soothed you slightly. It made driving away a little easier, but it didn’t stop the tears that fell as you entered your apartment, alone. For the first time in a while. You didn’t have to hold it in anymore.

You sunk down against your front door, staring out into your living room, tears rolling down your cheeks in the silence of the home. Dirty shoes lined up against the wall, throw blanket hanging halfway off the couch, dirty dishes from breakfast still in the sink, and somewhere you’re sure under all of it was the will to pick yourself back up.

You just didn’t know if you were ready for that quite yet.

But you did it anyway.

More clerical work. More data entry. More bills going half paid and others being ignored all together. Student loans you didn’t even want to think about from a school where you hadn’t even graduated. Medical bills you didn’t even know where to begin paying back, itchy stockings, and uncomfortable shoes. With every day that passed you reexamined your life. How did you get here?

A new job, a new office. Temp assigned, but you knew who worked here. The building that housed it stood tall against the Boston skyline. Contemporary. You sat comfortably in a cushy office chair. The plaque on the desk read Linda Drysdale, CEO. And you waited.

You hadn’t seen the Thrombey’s, let alone the Drysdale branch of the family, for five months. Zero contact. Joni had talked to you last, thanking you for helping Meg, but also trying to sell you eye cream. “You really should invest in taking better care of yourself.” Which was her kind way of trying to tell you that you look old. Thanks.

You couldn’t imagine what Linda would want you for. You’d been doing some filing, they were transferring all of their documents to digital and hired extra help to do so, you were one of three hired from your particular temp agency, but yesterday she had called you personally and asked you to come in for an appointment today at 3 pm. And here you are.

Waiting.

There was a portrait of her family on the wall. Linda herself sitting in a high backed intricate chair, her husband Richard standing to her right, and to her left was her son, Hugh. He went by his middle name Ransom. They were stone faced, serious looking. This painting seemed ridiculous. If you didn’t know the Thrombey’s you’d think it was there to be ironic, as a joke, a play on what rich families were like.

But they were a rich family, and this is what they were like.

Linda was self-serving. She only ever talked to you when it suited her own interests and as soon as she was satisfied she would quickly direct her attention somewhere else, to someone more important. She used you to get what she wanted and when you served her purpose you were gone. She had no time for anyone, only her father. Anything for Harlan.

Richard was a predator. He was always making an uncomfortable comment about either your body or your face. He stood uncomfortably close at times and liked to settle a hand on the small of your back. He was a well kept man, throwing his wife’s money around like it was his own. He kept a money clip of hundreds in his pocket.

Ransom was a piece of shit. He was a self-centered egotistical asshole who was sure to make your life a living hell every time he saw you. There was always a comment, a jab at your clothes, your hair, the fact that you are poor. He once ‘accidentally’ threw your cardigan away because, “I thought it was one of those fucking rags you dust with, I didn’t want it touching my burberry.” He, like his father, felt predatory. Something about being a rich white man just really got them going, and the money clip with the hundreds… a learned habit.

“Alright,” Linda’s voice came from the doorway, you turned slightly in your seat. She was on the phone, “Well we will send Michael out to show them the properties instead, I’m sure we’ll find something they like.” She gave you a finger, hold on, even though you’d been sitting here patiently waiting for her for close to twenty minutes now. “Okay,” She continued, “Sounds good.” Sitting down in her chair, tapping a few keys to illuminate her computer screen. “Alright now, bye-bye.” She took her phone from her ear, looking down at the screen before placing it face down on the desk and smiling at you.

You knew that smile. She wanted something.

“So, Y/N right?” You nodded, “I see you’re looking for work.”

“Well, I’m with a temp agency right now but-”

“Would you like something a little more permanent?” A permanent job? The Thrombey’s had paid you very well to tutor Meg, better than you were making now. Granted you had only worked 15 hours a week when you were tutoring her, so $20 an hour didn’t seem like that big of a deal, but if they were looking for something, anything full time…

“Absolutely,” You smiled, shifting in your seat, “I’ve had trouble being hired because my-”

“Okay so you’re going to need Ransom’s number, and you’ll start tomorrow.” Your smile dropped.

“Ransom needs a tutor?” You asked skeptically. She laughed.

“No, he needs an assistant.” She gestured towards herself, “I can’t keep telling him when or where to be for family events and he has a fairly active social life so I’m gifting him an assistant for his birthday.” Oh.

“I uhm,” You really didn’t want to work for Ransom. You REALLY didn’t want to work for Ransom. “How much would it…?” You trailed off nervously.

“My father paid you $20 an hour to tutor Meg, yes?” She asked, typing something into her computer, no longer looking at you.

“Yes, he did.” You moved trying to see what she was typing without bringing too much attention to it. She was drafting an email.

“So I’ll pay you the same. Ransom will set hours for you and decide what days of the week he’ll need you and what else he wants you to do,” She waved her hand dismissively, “Cleaning, cooking, whatever.” She scribbled on a post-it before peeling and handing it to you. “Here’s his number and address, you can go over the particulars of your job tomorrow morning.” You opened your mouth to speak again, ask her the million and one questions you have but before you could say anything she dismissed you, “That is all.” She said. And she was done with you.

She got what she wanted. And now she wanted you to leave.

So you did.

“Well,” He grinned, “Linda really scooped you up from the bottom of the barrel, huh?” You stood on Ransom’s front porch. The only texts you sent and received last night were ‘What time do you need me to be there?’ and an hour later the reply of ‘11’. The scumbag was standing in the doorway, leant against the frame, looking down on you. In more than one way.

“Can I come in?” You asked. You really didn’t want to do this. But a $12 an hour temp job versus $20 hour stability… hard to beat. He smirked, pushing off the frame before looking you up and down, turning to disappear into the house.

“Take off your shoes.” What a fucking joke. His house was a mess. Clothes thrown haphazardly around, a pile of dishes not in the sink, but on the counter. Abandoned cups, tv was rolling on in the background, some political documentary. The house, while contemporary and clean, well kept on the outside. The inside looked like a frat house during rush week. You didn’t want to take off your shoes in fear that you’d step in vomit or something worse.

He grinned off to the side, “Had some people over last night.” He explained, drinking what looked like orange juice from a coffee mug. The vodka bottle that was capless on the counter led you to believe that orange juice wasn’t the only thing in the cup. “You can start by cleaning up.” He gestured around, sinking back down into the sofa. “I’m sure I’ll think of something else you can do when you’re done.” The fucking prick.

You shut the door a little heavier than intended, slipping your sneakers off and placing them by the door. “You’ve got a laundry room?” You asked, he didn’t look away from the television,

“Basement.” And he was done with you too. The tone was very, don’t talk to me. Which honestly you were grateful for.

You cleaned up his messes, the red solo cups that littered almost every surface in every room, laundry was running in the basement, dishwasher working hard to sanitize the first round of plates and cups that could fit, the others waiting patiently in the sink as you wipe counters and dusted picture frames, the thick film of unappreciation. He didn’t care about his house, his furniture, the art that cost more than your apartment that lined his walls. His clothes, while having an extensive closet, some were threadbare and with holes.

He didn’t care.

And it made you angry.

You thought of the furniture you were able to keep from your Mother’s house, well oiled and kept. No scratches. The fabrics of the couches and chairs carefully cleaned and maintained.

His sheets were stained and you were unsure when the last time he had washed them actually was. The dampness made you gag. It wasn’t long before you were cleaning under his feet. His ankles crossed and feet resting on the coffee table as you straightened the area around him. You felt his eyes on you, briefly, but ignored it.

“Do you have any real clothes?” He asked suddenly. He stood from the sofa, rounding it to pull the vodka bottle back out from the cabinet you’d placed it in, pouring heavily into the coffee mug before leaving the bottle and the orange juice carton he followed with next to it.

“These are real clothes.” You stated, coming behind him to put the items away. He scoffed,

“I’m important,” He claimed, “I go to parties, events.” He took a large mouthful of the screwdriver he’d just made, “You can’t wear clothes like that if you’re gonna be babysitting me the whole time.” You rolled your eyes,

“I don’t have to go. You set my hours, I don’t-”

“As much as I love the whole, ‘I’m poor and don’t care what I look like’, thing you have going on,” Ransom laughed, “You’re gonna be around me, and as a reflection of me, you need to look presentable.” He gestured to the demin shorts a t-shirt you were currently wearing, mismatched socks on your feet. You felt your face flush. “And slap a little makeup on.” You rolled your eyes at that. Fucking dick. He smirked when you didn’t reply, turning back around to leave you and disappeared upstairs.

He didn’t come down for a while. In that time you’d finished cleaning the living area, the house looking a complete 180 from where it had been when you’d originally entered, it was nearing dinner time. Your stomach was growling and you’d realized you had been cleaning for five hours without stopping.

You didn’t get to enjoy the sense of accomplishment because Ransom came down the stairs not a moment later, dressed for his evening. If you didn’t hate him so much you’d drool. He looked good. Patterned slacks, chelsea boots, a lightweight white button down, blazer over one arm. “Let’s go.” He said, not stopping on his way towards the front door.

“Where are we going?” You felt gross, covered in grime from cleaning, sweat dried on your skin you knew you probably didn’t smell amazing, hair frizzed up in a bun. He didn’t answer you, continuing outside. You sighed heavily, throwing the pair of socks you’d just matched back into the laundry basket before slipping your shoes on and following him outside.

“C’mon!” He yelled from the front seat of his beamer, sunglasses on his nose, he was annoyed with you. Whatever. You sat heavily in his passenger seat, the dickwad not even giving you time to close the door before he was speeding down the driveway.

“Where are we going?” You asked again. One hand on the wheel, the other’s fingertips brushing against his lower lip he looked at you from behind his sunglasses.

“To dinner.” He smirked, looking back towards the road as you merged onto the interstate.

He was a fucking asshole. If you hadn’t thought he was before you definitely knew now. You were surprised the hostess even let you into this place. It was expensive, and you were very, very underdressed. Point taken Ransom. Thank you. Fucking prick.

He took glances at you ever so often, seated a few feet away from him at the long banquet style table that housed all of his ‘friends.’ Gorgeous women and equally as gorgeous men who had money to burn. You weren’t sure any of these people have ever worked a day in their life, much like Ransom himself. You’d met a few of them before, briefly, when Ransom would show up and ask Harlan for money before disappearing for a week, one or two of them would be in tow bragging about going on some guy’s yacht or flying out to some private island.

Regardless, they weren’t talking to you. You were a strange interloper, easily ignored, but only after a few poked fun at the stray dog at Ransom’s heels. It only stung a little bit when he laughed with them. You were wildly uncomfortable. You poked at your deconstructed salad, the little bits lined neatly up on the plate, a smear of salad dressing beside it. This menu was ridiculous. Why were you here again? You were so hungry and this was not your speed at all. Ransom’s booming laugh met your ears and you could feel the anger rising in your chest.

Fucking asshole. You hoped he would choke on one of the olives in his martini. His eyes met yours momentarily and he smirked. He fucking smirked, cheersing you with his martini before it met his lips again. You could kill him right now.

The money.

The money.

Technically you were still working. As the sun set behind the horizon. You’d been at work, technically, for about 10 hours. That’s $200. Okay, you can do this. You can do this.

You know he did this to embarass you. He made it clear when you’d pull up to the restaurant to give you a taunting look. Whether the dinner was already planned or he had planned it after the conversation about clothes and makeup earlier was anyone’s guess. You had the feeling it was the latter.

He’d paid the bill after all.

The entirety of it.

You’d wished you’d ordered more.

Afterward a giggling girl took your place in the front seat, you glared at the back of her head from the back seat,

“Ransom.” She whined, leaning over in her seat to press her lips to his neck, “I want you to fuck me.” Lips around his ear, sucking the lobe into her mouth. You shifted your gaze to the window, the city landscape passing your eyes as you’d pulled into another valet parking, a bar this time. A nice one.

Ransom and the bubbly girl from the car ride over slipped hastily into the bathroom, he’d sent you a dark look before leaving you to your own devices. Looking over the cocktail list while sitting uncomfortably on a bar stool while your boss was fucking a girl who’d laughed at you for being a ‘dog’ earlier in the bathroom of a bar that had a $20 old fashioned and their most expensive wine came with a thousand dollar price tag.

“You lost?” Another smirking asshole, sidled up next to you at the bar as you took a sip from the beautifully balanced old fashioned you’d tacked onto Ransom’s tab. He was handsome, the guy bothering you, almost everyone in this room was handsome. The lights low and romantic, candles on every table and across the bar, soft music played from the piano across the room where a man sat gently stroking the melodies to create the ambiance of the room. Close, cozy, romantic, and dark enough to forget yourself in.

“Oh c’mon honey.” The man slipped onto the barstool, thighs spread wide around you as you face away from him, his hand meeting your back. “I can help you find what you’re looking for.” His breath reeked of alcohol. You glanced over at him,

“I’m fine thank you.” Another sip, damn this drink was good. He chuckled, moving in closer, drifting a hand down to your thigh.

“Don’t be like that.” He laughed, “You obviously don’t belong here honey.” His hand traced your bare thigh, “You’ve gotta be wanting some company.”

Ransom had returned face flushed and you could almost see a tiny bit of white on his nose, but it was quickly rubbed away. He sat on the opposite end of the bar, the girl from earlier taking his lap. He looked down at you briefly, he had to have seen how uncomfortable you were, how this guy was breathing down your neck. He ignored it, ordering a drink from the bartender.

“I don’t want any company,” You shoved the man’s hand away, “Have a great night.” He leaned back in his seat, downing his drink before leaning back over to put his face in yours.

“Fucking ugly bitch.” He spat, standing from the stool, “Tryna give you a little charity here, you could've at least been grateful.” You wanted to leave. He shoved your shoulder slightly as he walked away from you, no doubt going to bother some other unsuspecting woman in his radius.

You needed some air, taking the last sip of your drink you’d scooted back from the bar, walking by Ransom to take your exit, walking out into the summer night. It was early summer. It was still only 60 at night. A chill went through you. You hadn’t expected to be out so late, the comfortable denim shorts and old ratty t shirt you’d chosen to wear had obviously been a mistake for this day. Ransom made sure to make you see that.

The bar was on the harbor, and it brought in a breeze that caused goosebumps to rise on your skin. You checked your phone, the battery almost dead. Julia had been texting you periodically, but not as much as you would have liked. You scrolled through the most recent messages, you asking how her trip was going and what she was up to and her stilted replies. She was busy you supposed. She didn’t need you, but right now you really needed her.

This night has been a massive blow to your self-esteem. You’d never felt more ugly and unwanted in your life. You just wanted to go home, but Ransom wasn’t done yet. You looked at him from the window, his fingers were gone between that girl’s thighs, they were both drinking expensive cocktails, completely oblivious to you.

He’d watched you exit, not giving it much thought it seemed, because he hadn’t made any motion to bring the night to a close, but you weren’t really expecting him to. It was Ransom’s world and you were just living in it. You worked for him. And you wondered if this is how every day is going to be from here on out. You really don’t know if you could do this forever, but you knew you didn’t want to go back inside.

So you didn’t.

Thankfully Ransom stumbled out about thirty minutes later, girl from earlier on his arm. “Let’s go.” He said. Valet pulling the beamer around he threw you the keys, “Take me home.”

He sunk down in the back seat, high and drunk. His words almost incoherent. Her’s were no better. They sloppily attacked each other in the back seat, indecently. And you were pointedly looking anywhere but in the rearview. Soft grunts and moans made you uncomfortable for the fourth time that night. Your skin crawling in unease as the girl’s giggles turned into breathy moans. Your foot sunk against the gas pedal in hopes you’d get back to his home faster, tears welling up in your eyes. The cry on the way home was going to be so good. So cathartic.

The gravel crunching against the wheels of the car was a sweet relief, so was the haste in which you left the keys in the car, running and skipped to your own car. His eyes met yours through the darkness as he was leant up against his car door, slacks loose around his hips, the girl’s lips attached to his neck as her hand worked quickly between his thighs. He smirked, waving a sarcastic ‘good-bye’. You turned your eyes to the road, cranking up the radio as you began to cry.

You didn’t want to do this anymore.

A text came through right as you finally laid down in your own bed, snuggling into the covers, ready to forget the night.

See you at 9.

.

.

.

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[curlyy-hair-dont-care]

♣️♦️Wizards Hearts Rec List!❤️♠️

Here’s one more rec list for the wonderful fics I read as part of @gameofdrarry​ Wizards Hearts 🌟

These are based on the tropes from the ♦️Diamond♦️ suit. Hope you enjoy!

So many good fics and amazing authors...real gems ♦️ ! 💞💐🌸🌟

*Please always check the tags

Contents Under Pressure

Author: MaesMora | @maesmora

Rating: Teen and up

Word Count: 2076

Trope: Party games

Summary: Party games are stupid and a waste of time. Until they're not.

Rec Notes: I love 8th year fics, especially when they involve party games like 7 minutes in heaven to get our oblivious boys together! And I love that in this story, Hufflepuffs throw the best parties and boy was that last one Pansy went to a wild one! There are some amazing characterizations, there’s flushed, wide eyed Draco and protective Harry. Definitely worth a read.

Feathered Deception

Author: kcstories | @kcstories

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 11.7k

Trope: Animagus

Summary: A few years after the war, Draco finds a wounded eagle on the Manor's grounds and his solitary existence takes an unexpected turn.

Rec Notes: Harry and Draco are both so affected by the war and the writing conveys it very well. Harry's animagus is a beautiful black eagle and the way Draco comes into contact with Harry's animagus is such an interesting plot. Millicent plays an interesting role in the fic and Draco is so kind with the bird, showing a whole different aspect of his personality. 

 Back in Town

Author: jamesilver | @jamesilver

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 50.7k (WIP)

Trope: Professor(s) 

Summary: Holy fucking mother of Merlin. Harry was aware that he was sitting with both of his arms out and his eyes wide, staring off into the distance like he was absolute batshit high but this was a game changer. This was a bring-the-train-to-a-full-stop kind of situation because that was the most unbelievable realization that Harry had made ever since he learned he was a fucking wizard. He had a crush on Draco Malfoy. Actually, not only does he have a crush on Draco Malfoy, but he was fairly certain that he had a crush on Draco Malfoy when they were back at Hogwarts. And by that he meant at least third year. At least. Bisexuality. What an amazing gig.

Rec Notes: This is a really sweet, heartwarming story about these boys, how they become Hogwarts professors and have reservations about being good professors. Draco is head of Slytherin, Harry for Gryffindor and Neville for Ravenclaw. There are some tough topics that are handled well; but also a lot of cute couple-y stuff like making curriculums together and paper grading dates!

 Saint (gift four)

Author: crazyparakiss 

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 5300

Trope: Memory Loss (Mind the tags plz)

Summary: Draco is not good at Cards Against Humanity, but Harry’s not good at being human, so it all works out. Except for the explosions. And Harry’s inability to live when Draco’s not around. The one with Beirut and video games.

Rec Notes: This is one of my fav fics. The first paragraph is so ominous but it really sets the mood for the story to come. There’s Ron Draco bonding and Ron is written so well. Imagine your spouse forgetting you but also hating you! Ooof Darco is in such a hard position and it’s written so well! The dialogues are so poignant, the writing realistic when Draco has to deal with all the kids and Harry’s turmoil. This story had reduced me to a crying blubbering mess... i loved it!💛💛❤️❤️

 Peeking behind the Curtain

Author: calrissian18 

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 23.4k

Trope: Mutual pining

Summary: Draco sees things he really, really wishes he didn't. If only to get out of all the homework that comes with it.

Rec Notes: Draco is a seer, which is such a fresh concept. There is also Draco- Ron friendship and a lil bit of a Charlie/Draco. Ron is such an MVP in this story! I'd wish Charlie/Draco end up together, if only I wasn't so invested in our oblivious, pining idiots here. Aaaahhh, which brings me to the mutual pining.... oh boy, it's exquisite! If only the stupid boys communicated instead of hurting and pushing each other away and then moping! Oh but when they do decide to communicate...wow. (Thank you Ron) Both their declarations are so emotional, raw and full of turmoil, truth and pain. The writing is GORGEOUS!!!💛

 Impervius

Author: ravenclawsquill | @ravenclawsquill

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 10.9k

Trope: Cursed objects

Summary: Harry and Draco are working together on a case in the beautiful English Lake District. Or, it would be beautiful if only it would stop raining. Fortunately, Harry has an umbrella. Unfortunately, it's pink and frilly, and Draco would rather die than share it with him. Featuring a cursed cave, endless bickering and a pesky flock of sheep.

Rec Notes: I like the tension between the two of them especially outside the cursed cave. Their dialogues are so sharp and fun. It's a delightful story and there are sheep and they are hilarious! 

 Against All Odds

Author: momatu 

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 53.8k

Trope: Quidditch Player!Harry

Summary: Beauxbatons is hosting the first ever Quidditch Summer School for children from all over Europe, and Harry has promised to enroll Teddy as his birthday present. Meanwhile, Draco is stuck in his office, putting together the first ever Quidditch Summer School for children from all over Europe during, when he should be enjoying summer holidays.

Rec Notes: This is such a lovely fic. I love the dash of French, it adds to the authenticity of the story. Paris is portrayed. Draco and Harry's relationship progresses so sweetly and all their interactions with the children at the Quidditch camp are gorgeous.

 A Tale of Woo

Author: Veritas03 

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 25.3k

Trope: Soulmates

Summary: Harry’s a bit of a mess, despite a successful Quidditch career. Draco’s not too much of a mess, but believes his life is as good as it’s likely to get. Both want something more. Fate is going to help them out with that.

Rec Notes: There are a lot of things I loved about this fic! The story is really intricate, with lovely little details. I loved the focus on Hogsmeade for one. And the mystery of Hengist hall. Their feelings, emotions and the communication through the bond are all explained very well. As is the trouble they have settling in, their fears and insecurities and love. I loved the mental as well as verbal back and forth between them, it's very unique to their bond and this story. 💜

  Happy reading!!!  💜

 (Do let me know if you spot any mistakes... Tumblr mobile likes being difficult sometimes)

[ansgar-martinsson]

The Best Intentions - Ansgar/Joline Part 1

((A/N - I’ll be reposting parts of this RP with @theothercourse every few days. Revisited it and I enjoyed re-reading it. Hope you do too. Lots of *ahem* in this RP, but that’s par for the course with Ansgar. Plot, too. :) Enjoy and if you like it let @theothercourse know!))

The Best Intentions

Part One

“Mamma, are you sure I can take the car?” Joline bellowed through the craftsman style home that she shared with her mother. She scoffed at the trainers she’d just laced upon her feet and toed out of them again. “I can take my bike.”

The older Lindberg woman sauntered through and handed her daughter a proper pair of pumps. “Wear these. They’re smarter.”

Jo folded at the waist to slip on the new pair heels, hopping on one foot when one shoe refused to cooperate. “You sure about the car?”

“Take it. I’ll ring up Elias to take me to my treatment.” She reached out and caressed her daughter’s hair. “Knock ‘em out today, yeah? Go do justice!”

“I will, mamma.”

“You work too much.”

“So you tell me,” she leaned and kissed her mother’s cheek. “Thanks for the ride. Call my mobile later, yeah? Tell me how it went today.”

Emelie Lindberg nearly pushed her daughter out the front door. “Go. Before I go for you.”

*~*~*~*~

Joline unfolded herself from her mother’s borrowed Mini Cooper and stepped onto the distinguished carpark of @martinssonconstruction. Her knees protested the confines of the stupidly small car. She glared up at the glittering tower feeling under dressed to be standing in the carpark, let alone entering. And she dressed for the occasion, a freshly pressed purple button down blouse over a denim skirt and the Louboutin heels her mother burgled from only she knew where.

The late summer sun beat down, an oppressive heat that made it difficult to breathe. She could feel her natural blonde hair thrashing against her black dye job, fighting to get free of its prison.

Dipping back into the car, she fetched her clipboard of work permits, purchase orders, requisitions and recent estimates for repairs at the Stockholm Opera House. Despite her wounded pride, she also included some of the letters addressed to her of where she failed. Each pointed out just where attention was required in her house. The house manager could do only so much without owner intervention.

Joline rolled her shoulders back, pushed her reading glasses into place high on her nose and marched a steady pace across the carpark. She flung open the glass door and clicked her heels on the marble floor from the front door to the reception desk. Two administrative assistants answered an influx of ringing telephones.

‘Martinsson Construction, won’t you hold please?’ repeated over and over for the onslaught of calls.

After signing her name in the guestbook, notably three pages long for the 28th of July already, Joline stood before the receptionists to ask (insist) that she see Froken Wiessing immediately. But the phone calls didn’t stop…

Against her better judgement, after waiting an exorbitant amount of time, she marched into the President Office. “Froken Wiessing, please forgive the rude and unannounced intrusion, but I must insist. Its imperative that we go over these repairs. The sprinklers in the rehearsal room have been going off at random and the director… is… not… happy.”

She slowed her speech as she realized that her eyes didn’t deceive her. Froken Wiessing and all her family portraits and certificates of accomplishment had been replaced by someone quite different. “You’re not Froken Wiessing.”

The floor didn’t swallow her up.

How she wished it had.

Typically, Ansgar Martinsson hated virtual press conferences. Hated them with a passion. Despised them. Loathed them. Wished the person who had come up with the very innane and fucking stupid idea would have his skin sloughed off in the depths of hellfire and be hoisted upon a pike to rot for eternity.

He much preferred the in-person version. Much preferred speaking his mind, standing on a stage in front of an audience, interacting. He loved charming the shit out of the reporters in the room; both the females who wanted to fuck him and the males who wanted to be him… or in some cases, yeah… to fuck him.

But that time, Ansgar actually relished answering the press’ questions within the solitude of his office, enjoyed being able to shut his door and hide behind his computer screen, where he could take his time, where he could engage his slightly sluggish brain before his motor-mouth. He appreciated his PR VP’s insight into his strangely fragile psyche in that moment. He’d even given Janetta the indulgence of a “thanks,” a handshake, and a “nice job,” when he’d learned she’d arranged for the press conference to be a virtual one instead of a live one.

“It’s okay,” Janetta had said, shrugging. “You need time, Sgar. I get it. I got your back.”

***

… But apparently his receptionist did not have his back. Judging from the way the intruder was ranting, there would be no appreciative “thanks” or “nice job” in the cards for Britta. Just the opposite. Quite the opposite.

“What the fuck?” Ansgar stood quickly, and almost by reflex, wrenched his top right-hand drawer open. His fingers twitched as they hovered over the pearl handle of his Ruger Blackhawk within, ready to snatch it up and shoot - defend himself if need be. “Who are you, and how did you get into my office?”

“Oh, uh… hi,” Jo intoned absently while flipping through her overloaded clipboard, sifting through document after document to search for… well, hell, she didn’t know what. Anything.

“Yeah, I… uh, I used the door.” She indicated with a tip of her head in the general direction of said entry way to explain her appearance.

No sense of humor, noted.

The man growled and gnashed his teeth at her, his jaw rippling with the effort. If he could spit fire, she sure as shit would be singed.

Maybe all the way burned.

Third degree burns by the heat and intensity of the glare from the lion of a man. Then he flared his nostrils, and she wondered if he could in fact breathe fire.

Jo tapped her foot on the marble floor to check her escape route. Only solid.

Damnit! Hard unforgiving marble. Her rescue chasm must be on holiday. No black hole to whisk her away from the wrong place, wrong time, and wrong person.

But she wouldn’t wither, she wouldn’t retreat, she wouldn’t show weakness. The theatre needed her, her performers needed her, her season subscribers, her box office staff, her technical designers.

Could she lie about her identity? Should she? She tried to remember how much she’d gotten through of her rehearsed speech that she wrote in her head during the nearly hour long wait by reception.

Maybe she’d just ignore that bit.

“Yeah, uh… I… this is a matter for Wiessing. I’m here for that.” She clasped her Opera House work file between her palms, holding it up as proof. “May I see her? Please?”

The lion in a suit worth more than her house pressed his hands into the massive desk and dropped his head to his chest. Summoning fire or just breathing, Jo couldn’t tell for sure. But when he lifted his head again at her, he held a broody confused smolder.

A resignation?  A surrender?

Then it was gone again, an exasperated sigh escaped him. The incredulous annoyance returned, his impatience driving off him in a steady current.

Thank Heavens! No fire. No sunburn or heat blisters.

Jo raked her hand through her pin straight hair. “I waited. Out there. For an hour, but I’ve been waiting since February for a meeting. With her, with Wiessing. I’ve got a new season starting in September, companies that need a proper and functional rehearsal space, season ticket holders threatening to pull their patronage if they’re not entirely satisfied, and a sprinkler system that goes off without warning.”

Pressing her luck, she stated, “That’s who the fuck I am.”

Companies… rehearsal space… ticket holders… patronage….

Sprinkler system…

I waited for an hour…

Waiting since February…

If Ansgar was angry at this… this… girl… this girl in obviously borrowed Louboutins intruding into his private office, he’d suddenly and swiftly become furious at her words, and the implications thereof.

He lifted a hand, silencing the tirade he saw coming in the massive inhale of her breath. “Wait, let me understand you,” he said, preternaturally calmly, his eyes narrowing. “Are you telling me you are a representative of the Stockholm Opera House?”

“Yes,” she said, her breath huffing out through her nose.

“And are you telling me that the sprinkler system in the building is… faulty?” He cocked his head. “Do I have that right so far?”

“Yes,” she answered, “and the Prima Donna is….”

“I don’t care about the Prima Donna,” Ansgar barked. And then, after a calming breath, he continued, the words pushed out through grit teeth. “What I do care about is that you represent one of my largest customers, and that customer is dissatisfied.”

“Not so much dissatisfied, but…”

He cut her off again. “And not only that but you have been, quite rudely I might add, made to wait since… since how long?” He squinted, cocking his head as he strode out from behind the desk.

“Um, February.”

He nodded in annoyance. “February,” he repeated. “Your building has had a leaking sprinkler system since February.”

The young woman before him shrugged, her lips pressed together in a resigned moue. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. It’s not just leaking, it’s… it’s going off whenever, getting everyone wet, ruining set pieces.”

“I see,” he said, his own lips twisting into an expression not unlike hers. He nodded again, an irritated, whispery chuckle burbling up through his nostrils. He pushed off the edge of the desk, and turned one of the guest chairs around. “Please, sit,” he gestured. “I do believe we need to discuss how I can make this right.”

And then, he held out his hand, a broad smile brightening his face. “Allow me to introduce myself, I am Ansgar Martinsson. I am the CEO of this company.”

“Joline. Joline Lindberg,” she introduced herself wearily, accepting and shaking his hand. She smiled weakly when his didn’t quite reach his eyes. “House manager,” she stated, “Stockholm Opera House.”

“Pleasure to meet you,” he said automatically, but not entirely sincere in the delivery.

She quipped, “Charmed, I’m sure.” She kept it to herself, under her breath. Jokes landed on executive types as well as water to a flame. A lot of hissing.

She waited. She waited for the usual faux impressed high-pitched, ‘Fancy title for a woman.’ 'How did you get that job?’ Or something as equally as vile. But it didn’t come. Instead she got a solid, “I’m positive we can sort this.”

Okay, so Ansgar Martinsson wasn’t that type of man. From the superior attitude that drafted her way from her intrusion, she assumed male dominance, but no. His was a general arrogance, believing others capable (man or woman), just not as capable as he. She could live with that. Possibly work with that.

Jo hugged the portfolio of problems to her chest as she situated herself to the guest chair. Soothing her denim skirt down for the sake of modesty and decorum, she perched herself on the edge of the seat in anticipation. She flattened the stack of documents in her lap, squeezing her thighs together. She adjusted her thin-rimmed glasses and breathed.

“Your predecessor…” Ansgar began confidently taking another seat opposite her.

“Steffan,” she reminded when he hesitated.

“Ah, yes… Steffan. Forgive me, I’ve been away,” he almost dismissed out of hand, but his eyes gave him away.

“I met with him,” the CEO explained, “a number of times, in regards to–”

“–Restorations!” Jo blurted out suddenly, interrupting them and taking them both by surprise. Her face lit up like a spotlight on the Prima Donna performing her eleven o'clock number.

His name. Ansgar Martinsson. She recognized it from her files, some of the early ones when she inherited the job as manager. A delayed response, but her mind had been running it over and over again as familiar for another reason than the obvious founder of Martinsson Construction.

She muttered, “Sorry. Sorry. I’m so– it just came to me.” She rifled through the files, her fingers walking deeper and deeper into the stack, her back curling forward. “Sorry… I know it’s just here. Somewhere.”

With a ‘aha’, she finally produced at least one of the documents left to her. ‘For the future,’ her colleague had told her. “Plans for the small theatre in the south wing. You’re mentioned, and there are some estimated costs. I’m sorry… I just recognized your name.”

“That’s quite all right. I strive to make my name memorable.” A glint of mischievous joy brightened his features, so much that he almost looked like a young boy.

“I don’t want to ruffle feathers or step on toes or point fingers at anyone,” she admitted softly. “i took over this job from Steffan six months ago. I only want to do what’s best for the theatre but I’m afraid I can’t do it alone. Wiessing kept promising help. ‘Soon,’ she’d say. She was swamped filling your shoes, there simply wasn’t enough of her to go around. So… i guess my plea is, may I have her back please before anyone else gets soggy in my house?”

[outerspaceisbetterthannothing]

My Ultimate Reading List v2.0 Blurbs Part 1

A/N: As some of you have heard or seen, My Ultimate Reading List (in it’s original version) has crashed on desktop because of (as I realised trying to restore it) too big number of links, so I’m basically recreating the whole thing in a new format. This post goes for 1st part of Blurbs. Here’s the 2nd. There’s one more post for One Shots and Serieses. I’m really sorry for the tag notifs for the people who has been tagged already in a previous version. Hope it’s not much of an inconvenience. I’m also not going to delete the first version of the list, as it’s been liked and reposted a lot of times, it’s still working on mobile, so some might still use it. But all the updates are going to happen only on these two posts, which I’m going to put in my bio instead of an old one.

So, this list was created because of my crazy urge to reread favourite fics and blurbs from time to time. It was made purely for me, but if it helps you to find a fic or a writer you’d love, I’d be only happy. I tried to make navigation easy. For blurbs links go to my reblogs, for oneshots and full lengths links go to the original posts. I try to check links from time to time, but if you see that some of them don’t work, please, hmu.

* stands for the implied smut

*** stands for the pure smut

This list is far from finished, that’s just the first things that came to mind and/or were reblogged. Still have a ton to add. So will update it every now and then.

NOTE, pls: There’s no Michael content here! And that’s not because I don’t like him or don’t appreciate him enough. I guess, it’s quite the opposite tbh. There’s no Michael content here because I appreciate him too much. I love this cute little kitten, he’s the most precious soul and, most of the time I think, there would be no 5sos without Michael Gordon Clifford. I just don’t have any fantasies or images of him in me, don’t see him in any way romantically. That’s why I don’t read (or write for that matter) about him as main character. I understand, that I miss a whole lotta great authors and fics because of that. Maybe it’ll change in the future. But for now, it is what it is.

Also HUGE SHOUT OUT TO THE PEOPLE WHOSE WRITING IS ON THE LIST - THANK YOU FOR THIS! THESE FICS AND BLURBS BELOW HAVE REALLY GIVEN ME ALL TYPES OF FEELS, INSPIRATION, MOTIVATION AND CONTENT. I’M FOREVER GRATEFUL FOR THESE WONDERFUL GIFTS YOU GAVE TO ALL OF US.

THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU, WONDERFUL PEOPLE! ALL MY LOVE FOR YOU!

Blurbs

All 4

First responders!5sos series by @calumsendgame and @heartbreak-5sos  

Character template, Guys talking girls

Police officer!Ashton First meeting, Meeting under cover, Late night at her apartment part1, part2***, Kitten’s Kitty, Ash being overprotective

Firefighter!Calum Coming home after shift*

Paramedic!Luke Coming home late, Exam preparation

Dad!5sos series by @calumsendgame

Dad!Calum Working at home, Baby boy Hood can’t leave Duke

Ashton

Cashton besties by @myloverboyash [I’m still crying over this]

Farmer!Ashton series by @calumsendgame HeadCanon, Losing the baby, Levi’s at the hospital, Willow’s teenage depression

Pregnant with a werewolf!Ash by @flannelpunkcalum

Valentine’s Day sex*** by @softforcal

Cashton threesome*** by @paqueretteash-deactivated201905

Overstimulation*** by @paqueretteash-deactivated201905

Telling Ash you’re pregnant by @paqueretteash-deactivated201905

Dealing with a teenage daughter by @i-calumhood

Accidental injury by @i-calumhood

Friend to lovers by @myloverboyash

Pregnancy cravings by @i-calumhood

Ashton and Joy by @bringmethehorizonandpizza [second part to Finding Joy]

Cuddle buddies by @i-calumhood

Best friend!Ash staying over under any possible excuse by @i-calumhood

Ash leaves you his clothes before going on tour by @asht0ns-world

Being pregnant with twins by @i-calumhood

You leaving surprises in Ashton’s baggage by @i-calumhood

Ash being nervous about kissing you by @angelbabylu

Ash and his kid missing mommy by @i-calumhood

Ash helping you study by @i-calumhood

Calum

Riding Cal for the first time*** by @i-calumhood

Cal eating you out by @flannelpunkcalum

Your picture on Cal’s home screen* by @softforcal

Giving Cal head while he’s on the phone by @softforcal

Shower sex*** by @i-calumhood

Cashton threesome*** by @paqueretteash-deactivated201905

Calum realising he’s in love by @permntvacaticn

Fighting with Cal by @cakesunflower

Calum comforting you by @honeycombcal

Surgeon!Cal blurb, second one and third from me by @cakesunflower

Stealing his clothes by @sweetcherrylu

Dad!Cal teaching his son to play bass by @paqueretteash-deactivated201905

Cheek kisses by @i-calumhood

Kids cuteness by @i-calumhood

Small kisses by @calumh-excess

Sickness and sex*** by @heartbreak-5sos

Hammock cuddles by @heartbreak-5sos

Wide awake at 1 am by @reallycalum

Hot morning by @i-calumhood

Angry sex*** by @i-calumhood

5am by @saintlaurentcalum

Morning by @cakesunflower

Moving in by @i-calumhood

Duke being protective over your bump by @singt0mecalum

Duke being a cockblock by @i-calumhood

Dad!Cal with your little girl at Disneyland by @c-sainthood

Dad!Cal with shy lil girl by @c-sainthood

Luke making Cal awkwardly confess by @etherealhood

Cal fucking you till you tear up by @flannelpunkcalum

Taking care of Cal when he’s stressed by @i-calumhood

Unrealistic scenarios by @i-calumhood

Hate fuck at college*** by @i-calumhood

Brownies and board games by @rip-lukes-balsamic

Calum confesses he wants an eternity with you by @i-calumhood

Lounging on the couch with Cal and Duke by @calpops

Brining your newborn baby girl home by @sublimehood

Dad!Cal reads to your baby by @c-sainthood

Fuck besties with Cal*** by @flannelpunkcalum

Calum leaving for tour and you’re a mess by @myloverboyash

Dad!Cal, kids and pancakes for mommy by @i-calumhood

Quickie before leaving for the party*** by @sublimehood

You’re drunk and Cal takes care of you while you confess your undying love to him by @i-calumhood

Coming home to Cal and baby sleeping by @c-sainthood

Car sex*** by @i-calumhood

Cal calling you ‘my girl’ by @calvmofficial

Cal taking you backstage from a crowd to fuck*** by @sublimehood

Duke protective over baby hood by @singt0mecalum

Baby hood playing with Duke by @singt0mecalum

Cock warming with Cal*** by @calpops

Clingy Cal by @i-calumhood

Sex with dad!Cal while kids are sleeping*** by @flannelpunkcalum

Jealous fwb Cal and hot bathroom*** by @honeyedhood

Calum wakes you up to go stargaze by @myloverboyash

Fake kisses at the coffee shop by @rip-lukes-balsamic

Talking about marriage and kids by @calpops

Saying the L-word* by @softforcal

Coming home to a sleeping y/n by @nocciolohood

Cuddly Cal by @nocciolohood

Running away from an event to eat french fries by @i-calumhood

Waking up to an empty bedside by @reallycalum and her anonymous

Waking up to a shirtless Cal by @i-calumhood

Cal cooing over his baby daughter by @i-calumhood

Cal kisses you to hide from your ex by @calpops

Sexting Calum by @calteahood

Dad!Cal and kid’s jealousy by @calpops

Dad!Cal and Easter by @i-calumhood

Giving tired Cal massage by @i-calumhood

Cal taking care of baby Hood mama by @i-calumhood

Baby Hood hears 5sos song in a shop by @babe-babylon

Dad!Cal and nightmares by @babe-babylon

Bffs to lovers by @calpops

Clenching on Cal’s tee and one more by @i-calumhood

Cal coming home to you and Duke by @calpops

Jealous Cal by @calpops

Slow sex with Cal*** and one more*** by @flannelpunkcalum

Eloping with Cal by @calpops

Cal holding his daughter for the first time by @i-calumhood

Luke

Calling Luke Buttercup by @i-calumhood

Fake dating by @c-sainthood

Breastfeeding by @i-calumhood

Riding Luke in a bus bunk by @hereforlukescruff

Blowing Luke while he’s in a suit*** by @hereforlukescruff

Post-divorce dad!Lu fluff by @calumh-excess

[snoozejoon]

Too Much | Park Jimin

pairing: park jimin x black female oc (ft. jung hoseok.. again :))

genre: angst, fluff, a whoole bunch of lovey-dovey stuff n heartbreak

warnings: mental illness (specifically bpd - borderline personality disorder), mature scenes, vulgar language and mentions of suicide and depression.

word count: 3.3k

Solace Wright just wants to remove herself from her overbearing job and find some genuine joy in her life on her own terms. She didn't exactly expect to land in South Korea to begin making an acclaimed name for herself, and she definitely didn't expect to fall so easily in love. She knows what she came to do and isn't exactly fond of having such a large distraction, but her heart softens without her permission and leads her to experience things she never imagined for herself.

Did she want this? No. Will she stay anyway? Yes.

She may have bitten off more than she can chew.

PREMIÉRE

Past.

HOSEOK hated the heat. He hated L.A too. He loathed the bright, smoldering heat that made him have nightmares of lava eating away at skin before he fell asleep; accompanied by the restless sounds and people that enshroud him everywhere he seemed to turn. And if one more droplet of sweat dared to drip down his face one more time, he'd hop on the fastest plane to Korea within the next hour. 

The moment his skin made contact with the summer sun here, he immediately regretted even coming. Why his father sent him out of all the other nice, heat tolerant people he has employed at his aquarium was beyond him. Beyond him. Literally. He knew little english, despised American food, and random foreigners that couldn't mind their business, so this was the worst job his dad could possibly give him.

The only liable reason he can come up with is that his father trusted him. Which was kind of a given, seeing as he was the only child he had that considered marine biology as a career path. He was also his dad's only child, so there was that aspect too. Hoseok was being sent to one of the biggest sea life aquariums in Los Angeles to sign literally one slip of paper and shake some probably cold hands just to confirm the conversion of the aquarium into the Jung corporation, due to horrible reviews on the well-being of their sea life, and poor treatment of their customers — and employees. 

So naturally, sales dropped, and prices ran cheaper, but people never seemed to want to visit anymore. Hearing about their children's favorite killer whale dying the day after the family went to visit wasn't exactly the best look . . . at all.

His father, noting that every other company tied within the U.S simply refused to lend a helping hand, stepped in on his own. Being a businessman was his best attribute; this simple encounter alone was going to add millions to his company, evidently putting himself even more on the top of the marine world than he was already. He'd do his best to add more revenue to the aquarium under his ownership; since all of the 4 aquariums he owned in South Korea were healthily successful, he only expected the same outcome for the one here; but that would take time. A very long time.

That was great and all, but did it require a whole suit and tie ensemble? In black? He almost wants to cry, but for one: he'll for sure taste the salt in his tears and it's too hot for that, and for two: he's not trying to explain to an American the reasoning behind his tears in his kindergarten level English on this bus that was going way too fast for his liking. So no crying. He could sit and be pissed though, so that's exactly what he does.

It takes a good forty-five minutes to get to his hotel, just to fumble with his key to his room when it was handed to him, lug his too-heavy-for-a-week-stay suitcase into his room, and eventually fall into some strangely comfortable sheets and fall into the arms of a power nap. Jet-lag was yet another thing that Jung Hoseok hated, and he refused to let it hinder the pace at which he could actually leave this place. He had a big day tomorrow.

Hoseok knows that the sun is necessary for life and energy and whatever else, but waking up to it shining directly into his irises wasn't the plan. The universe just seemed to genuinely enjoy messing those up though, so who can really say that this wasn't expected anyway? The meeting was at 10, so he got up at 7, quickly regretting that decision as well; U.S time and Korean time were sworn enemies. But Hoseok prevails and tries his best: studying and trying to absorb every English word he could in the textbook he brought, he even got the mobile app so that his phone could speak to him while he fumbled with his tie. He practiced masking his accent — and evidently failed, but that's okay — and eventually said fuck it, grabbed his suitcase, and left his hotel room.

During the bus ride to the aquarium, he tries to mask his nervousness by continuing to study and attempting to make somewhat of a script for the meeting he had later. He tries to answer in his head any question that could possibly be asked — which shouldn't be many — until he's memorized just enough to get by. He's almost positive that he'll stutter more than necessary and say something incorrectly by default but he decided that was the best he could do.

After a long and almost unbearably bumpy bus ride, he finally arrived at the aquarium, and when he heard about the decrease in visitors, he didn't think it would've been this much. The aquarium was open for sure, but without looking inside, you would've thought it was during closing hours. No one was even remotely interested in the activities occurring outside; which was saying something, because it was a whopping 102 degrees today. The only people actually outside where the employees with the animals, feeding and bathing their assigned sea life.

The aquarium was huge. 2 long pillars held the building up from the sides, accompanied by the various games and activities surrounding it. An array of ticket booths stood outside as well, with less than about 15-20 pedestrians per line. Hoseok felt like he was at the entrance of a movie theater, much less a famous aquarium. Hoseok literally stops in his tracks; just standing to take it all in. admittedly, his father's aquariums were better, but this one was still something to admire. A shame, it was that it wasn't selling well. He knew his dad would fix that though.

As he entered the large building, he immediately makes eye contact with one too many sea creatures; they seem to literally stop and peer at what he's doing and silently ask why. His footsteps falter at his paranoia; was he serious right now?

Let's not make this visit longer than it has to be, Hoseok, he thinks to himself. Please don't.

Hoseok picks his head up, wipes his sweat with the sleeve of his blazer — unprofessional, but he doesn't care — and eventually just takes the jacket off. He wouldn't be forced to suffer anymore because he really couldn't feel the aquarium's supposed "air conditioning" at all. After doing this, he ignores the scrutinizing looks from the fish surrounding him, and begins his quest for the administrative's office to meet with the CEO. Not even five steps are completely taken before he's almost ran over by a woman with a box that definitely had no chance of lasting long in her hands. Way to not make this visit longer, huh?

The collision is heavy, but more so on his part; she actually remained standing, and the sound Hoseok made at his fall was too loud to simply apologize and not worry about potential injuries. 

"Oh my God!” The woman exclaimed. “I'm so sorry-"

The box she held is safely placed on the ground before she reaches out to help pull her victim up — he hadn't even attempted getting up, but sprung up easily with her help. 

"Thanks," he grunted, noting at how soft her hands were, and peeking at her white lab coat. Her eyes were a wide mahogany, matching her skin, and her hair was kept in a high and unruly bun. He decided that he had been irritated enough since he got here, and getting angry — angrier — would only slow him down. 

"I'm fine," he inwardly grimaced at how his voice sounded, "I, uh. I think."

She kept rumbling off with apologies, because what a great way to end her last day here. 

"I'm so, so, sorry! I was just moving out from my room and you were walking in front of my office and—" she blinked rapidly, taking in his appearance and then really looking for injuries, "wait, you look important, a-are you sure you're okay?" Her hands roamed his shoulders, head, and arms before he interrupted her with an embarrassed cough.

"Um." Immediately her hands left his arms, shooting behind her back and interlocking in embarrassment. She couldn't help it, he wore more than her rent and she was not about to get sued today. He felt his cheeks grow hot at her actions; he definitely wasn't used to that. He cleared his throat, loosening the collar of his shirt — was it hot in here? Significantly hotter than usual?

Eventually finding his composure, he directed his speech to her as carefully as he could. "You are okay." Her eyes met up to his, her heart was pounding too damn hard for a Tuesday morning. "Sorry, uh, my English isn't very good — I'm Korean. I'm trying though."

Her brows rose, and Hoseok had to stop himself from thinking the worst before she spoke, "Oh really? I studied marine biology in college, with Korean as my minor, I know the language, if that's easier for you?" She reached down and struggled to pick up her box completely; but Hoseok noticed and helped her to stand.

He couldn't even completely understand what she said, but he heard Korean and easier and put two and two together. 

"Really? Yes!" he coughed, lowering his voice, "Ahem. Please. I have a meeting with your Ceo and I'm not sure how far I'll get." Pleading eyes bore into hers, trying to get his point across.

"I'm Jung Hoseok, by the way," he said, before she could reject him.

The woman's hands wrapped over the box tightly, and her lips turn to blow escaped hairs from in front of her eyes. Noting that he mentioned that Korean would be easier, she quickly remembered the honorifics. 

"Hi Hoseok. I'm Solace. So, you need a translator?" She finally settled her box firmly in her hands and looked at him expectedly.

Solace. It was a beautiful name, it swelled nicely under his tongue when he repeated it. Her Korean was good; her accent was obviously apparent, but still understandable. "Yes," Hoseok answers hurriedly, "If you're not too busy."

Solace shook her head, "No it's fine, today was my last day anyway. Let me run this box to my car really quickly and I'll be right back." Hoseok can barely respond with his gratitude before her heels find their speed and she leaves the building.

When she returned, she also had to direct him to the administrative's office as well, he didn't exactly have a directory to the aquarium. While she was showing him the way, Hoseok had the opportunity to observe the aquarium fully; dwelling on how his father could fix this, and tweak that. And that was all before they even got to an elevator.

He tried small talk too. She was granting him a favor, so the least he could do was get to know her a little. Random questions that popped into his mind, he wanted them answered. He was still in need of a distraction; nerves were never something to be messed with.

"So," he raised his voice as he stepped in the elevator beside her, "did you quit? Is- is that why it's your last day? Or -" his eyes widened with interest, "were you fired?" 

He saw her face turn to him quizzically, she couldn't possibly figure out how that was any of his business, but she let it slide. She clicked the circular 5 button for the fifth floor, and the elevator ascended upwards.

"No, not fired. I quit." she looked down at her fingers, "the reviews written about poor employee service weren't wrong."

"Oh."

Hoseok nodded, not exactly shocked by her answer; it only added to the things his dad could fix once he signed the contract. And maybe it was the close proximity of the elevator, but Hoseok knew the scent of a mango when he smelled it. There was something else in the air too — something tropical.

He didn't know if it was perfume or what, it just smelled amazing. So amazing that his body made decisions he probably shouldn't have; like leaning in towards the area of the smell — which was Solace. He only sacrificed a small sniff, but it was one sniff too many apparently — she tensed up immediately. Did he just? She didn't even see him do it; her attention was on the elevator door waiting to open.

Hoseok hasn't noticed her noticing him, and moved back to where he originally stood, unbothered. He realized that it was her hair that smelled as nice as it did, a dash of coconut and hibiscus scents accompanied the mango too; adding a nice, beachy smell. But Solace noticed, and didn't exactly know how to react either. Her head turned to him swiftly, an amused but weary expression residing in her eyebrow arch and smirking lips. 

“Did you just smell me?"

Hoseok — looking embarrassed as ever and face so red he almost looks sick — Seriously debates acting as if her Korean was so accented he couldn't understand her. Too late for that, of course; but the suggestion still ran through his mind. He wonders if he should just lie, claim she was hearing things, but that would get him nowhere.

"I-I'm sorry! Something just smelled really good so I just-" his ears burn even more at the sound of her small laughter, she reached her hand to cover her smile.

"It's fine," she giggled some more, "does my hair smell that good?" Hoseok releases the breath he didn't realize he was holding when the elevator finally releases an anticipated ding and the doors separate from each other.

Solace disregards Hoseok’s small yes as an answer, and gracefully leads him to the Ceo's door. A closed door with a frosted window awaited Hoseok, who just stood in front of it beside her, frozen. Solace looked to him expectantly, but halted, realizing how nervous this guy really was. When she thought about it, she'd act just like him, let the roles be reversed. So reassuringly, she placed her hand on his shoulder, waiting until he turned to her.

"I got you, Hoseok. You've got this." She smiled, and Hoseok gulped. How embarrassing, Hoseok, really.

"Thanks," he said, before lifting his hand to knock.

"You did so good!" Solace smiled at him from across the dining booth. She was right; he greeted the Ceo and his associates with ease, Solace had to help him with just a few things. And after he signed the few documents he needed to, he took her out for lunch as an expression of his gratitude. And solace never says no to free food, so she happily obliged.

He had asked her what she wanted, so she went to the nearest restaurant that had chicken and waffles; she had been craving them, and Hoseok never had them. So she was in front of him now, indulging in her delicious chicken and dipping her waffles in maple syrup alongside it. Hoseok was watching what she was doing, trying to replicate her etiquette. He blushed for the nth time that day, hearing her bellows of praise. He wasn't complaining, though.

"Thank you," he beamed. "You were a really big help, I'm happy you were there today." He finally tasted his chicken with a syrupy waffle, and Solace watches his eyes widen with astonishment — that's almost everyone's reaction to the treat. 

"Wow."

Solace looked knowingly back at her own plate. "I know."

After Hoseok drew himself back from waffle heaven, he asked curiously, "Wait, so where do you go now? Since it was your last day. Do you have like, a backup job? Something you're interested in?" He looked back at his plate, popping a piece of chicken in his mouth.

Solace chewed slowly, heeding his words while relishing in the simple calamity of the restaurant: the clinking plates and glasses, loud and quieted voices. This was a question she didn't necessarily have an answer to, so she silently searched for some sort of answer to tie him over.

She looked back up and him, frowning a little. "No, not really. I guess I'll just stay with my stepmom for a minute — like, literally a minute, the woman hates me — until I find something . . . else." She shied her face from Hoseok's worried gaze. She just couldn't stay at that aquarium, it payed fine enough, but damn, if it wasn't tiring.

Hoseok swallowed slowly after hearing what solace said about her job, and noting how uncomfortable she was talking about it. Great going, man. A thought crossed his mind — granted, it was a crazy, stupid thought, but a thought nonetheless — that consisted of inviting solace to her dad's aquarium back home.

He almost facepalms just for thinking it. In what world would that make sense? He finally removes it from his train of thought completely, but he sees her expression as she fell silent and looked outside the window beside her. She looked lonely, for a moment, although he was right there in front of her. He wished he couldn't relate so well. Maybe it would've kept his mouth from rambling off.

"You- you know, my dad just had a new aquarium built in the last, like six months. Since it's so new, we're a little short on employees, so if you want — since, you know you're fluent and all —" he gulps seeing her eyes widen, and her body suddenly becoming alert.

"Really?" Hoseok really wished he was kidding when he said she was fluent, just the way she said that one word made her sound like a native. "You are? I mean, it's a little far-fetched, but dammit I'll take just about anything." And he believes her, her heart had amplified it's beating, her excitement from his words noticeable like a star upon obsidian.

His face is burning roses, but his cheekbones raise in a smile; he wasn't lying, he just didn't even know she'd agree so fast — was she thinking this through at all?

No, just like your stupid ass, Hoseok.

Hoseok finds relief in the ice water that was placed next to him, he really couldn't let her down now. finally finding a voice, he breathes, "You sure about that? It might take a little while, but i'll see about getting you down there a little quicker. perks of being the director's son, heh. And you’re a nice enough girl." It was the least he could do. Literally. He won't allow himself to offer anything else.

Solace clutches her lab coat she didn't take off harshly, barely even believing his words. It would take a while, and who knows how long she'll actually be down there for? If she actually got the job? But she knew she wouldn't exactly miss being here. She wouldn't miss her stepmom, she wouldn't miss the loud, bustling people in L.A, and she definitely wouldn't miss that job. The only thing she might actually miss was these damn chicken and waffles. And she'd get to travel. The pros outweighed the cons, to her.

“It does sound nice, but where would I even stay? I’d be broke as soon as I got there," she said, sadly biting her nails.

He knew the answer a little too quickly. "I'm friends with a landlord in the heart of busan, right next to the beach. It's nice. Cheaper than most. I can’t promise anything, but maybe I could persuade him to lend you a room. If you'd like."

Music to her ears. "I'll take it."

Hello again! As I edit and prepare for the newer chapters of Fools, I decided to drop this one to hold you guys over. This is a Jimin fic, but I decided to start it off from Hoseok’s standpoint, because this is how Jimin and Solace’s stories begin, and that’s with Hoseok. At the beginning you will see the chapters fluctuate between the past and the present until they eventually meet up. I hope it’s not too confusing, but my inbox is always open if it is! As mentioned above, this story deals heavily with the themes of mental illnesses, but specifically borderline personality disorder, aka bpd. Jimin is the character with this disorder, so please be aware of that as you continue to read. I also want to point out that I absolutely do not condone romanticizing mental illnesses, so be assured that none of that will be included here. Thank you for reading, and I really hope you enjoy this!

[happinessinthedarkest-times]

avengers endgame reaction (spoilers!!!)

**if youre on mobile scroll fast bc idk if the keep reading works

holy shit holy shit fuck fuck fuck

i am an emotional wreak right now

ahhhhh it was so good im crying still

tony fucking stark my heart i guess ill start there 

tony stark i love you three thousand. he got his happy ending with morgan and pepper for 5 years they had 5 years together and he knew that the time heist (lol) would jeopardize that and he still went and helped

that scene where he had it out with steve at the beginning fuck my heart was breaking and i was crying .

i cried a lot in this movie. legit sobbing when nat died but ill get to that

that scene was everything i wanted it to be and perfectly executed. of course hes angry and lashing out because they were supposed to do it together and lose together and the emotion behind that ughh rdj killed it

he literally hands steve his heart the arch reactor

tony and howard ugh everything with them together. tony got closure with his dad 

everything tony was great. 

steve 

he got his happy ending. he got his dance with peggy (now im crying again) fuck. and he PICK UP MJOLNIR omg that scene was amazing and everything i never dreamed could happen when the hammer started moving ughhhh omg i was cheering so loud in the theatre and i dont normally do that. that whole scene ugh theres so much to react to

and he got to say assemble. 

ok now from the beginning. 

i started to cry literally before it even started. the screen was black and i was already tearing up but when clint and his daughter came up and then his family disappeared i was full on crying.

carol coming in clutch and saving tony and nebula yessss

steve and tony’s conversation right when he gets off the ship was everything i wanted it to be. (crying again) everything. 

when they go to thanos’s house thing and thor chops off his arm . its what ive been saying they shouldve done on titan 

and then he went for the head! 

five....... 

years later

fuck them. literally when the ‘five’ came up i was like no no no dont you dare do it dont you dare and then they did it. fuck them

five fucking years?!?! they made them live through 5 years of that trauma?!?!? 

nat was everything in this film. she became the leader and keeping track of everything and her moment of breaking down was just so human. she couldnt move on in those 5 years and it just shows how much the avengers had become her family. 

scott and cassie omg cassie all grown up made me so emotional 

tony and morgan i love you three thousand she is the cutest and sweetest thing 

tony fucking stark figured out time travel. he did that. 

when tony gives steve his shield back my heart could not take it

the scenes where they were trying to pinpoint the exact time to go back and it was like a sleepover sesh and all the domestic avenger fanfics 

going back a little bit

clint killing all the people that should have been killed and deserved to be killed and being a total badass showing up all those people who said he was just really good with an arrow and every scene he has with nat.

‘dont give me hope’

thor. oh where to start. he really did lose everything and he was blaming himself for all that happened so i get where hes coming from. every time you could see him remembering and tormenting himself about what happened broke me. his scene with his mother (crying again)

also hulk/bruce was an interesting choice (not a huge fan of it but ok) 

the time traveling

everything about the new york scenes were amazing. the aftermath of the end of the avengers, loki turning into cap for a second, seeing rumlow and sitwell come out, steve getting into the elevator and channeling that winter soldier energy (i was slapping my sister on the arm so hard at this part) hail hydra and outsmarting them all. cap fighting cap “i can do this all day” lmao i was dying ‘bucky is alive” again dying they really nailed it with this. i was worried beforehand because like it would change how we would see the og avengers but i still think it works

also can talk about how tony (and scott) was checking out steves ass????

“i forgot how that suit did nothing for you ass” (be still my heart) “i like to think of it at america’s ass” (or whatever the line was) 

loki getting away with the tesseract (is that in this timeline im confused about that hopefully someone will explain bc does that mean loki is alive in this timeline or not? lol)

them going back to the 1970s (do you trust me? i do) and tony meeting howard and introducing himself as howard potts. again i know i talked about howard and tony already but i loved their scenes. and JARVIS FROM AGENT CARTER MAKING AN APPEARANCE OMG

PEGGYYYYYYY (crying) when steve walked into her office (grabbed my sister again) and when he was watching her through the window and you could feel his pain. 

thor and rocket are the pairing that i never imagined but amazing none the less. i loved that we got the return of mjolnir here even though idk what that does to the timeline (again who knows at this point) 

rhodey and nebula again another pairing i didnt expect but are great together. everything about nebula in this film. she really has a great arch. i was stressing out so hard when the alternate timeline thanos found out that they came from the past. the scene where peter quill is dancing and singing to no music was great.

clint and natasha. this pairing thie duo the og. fuck my heart. when they started going off to vormir i knew. i knew it and i cannot handle it. the whole scene where they are fighting each other to sacrifice themself i was SOBBING. LEGIT SOBBING. ‘let me go’ i loved this so much and also hated it. she deserved her happy ending too. after everything she gave up everything to save those people. her arch is so good too. im excited for her origin. i kinda want to see her when shes a bad guy and killing everyone and her journey to shield. i hope thats what we’ll see in her movie. 

but also that scene emotionally fucked me up hard. 

the og avengers (minus nat) sitting on the edge of the lake 

thor trying to put on the glove and redeem himself (in his own eyes not my own bc he doesnt deserve the shit he gets for not going for the head)

hulk doing it and the calm before the storm where everything goes back before that missile comes firing down. 

steve tony and thor facing off with thanos. everything about this scene. tony getting a juice-up from thor and lightning to max out his powers. steve jump kicking on thanos’s ass. thanos beating up thor and steve coming in with FUCKING MJOLNIR AGAIN CANNOT STRESS ENOUGH HOW MUCH I WAS CHEERING AT THIS POINT HE IS WORTHY MY BOY STEVE IS WORTHY

also on that note tony coming up to steve and saying “theres my man” or something and giving him back his shield again. 

steve standing there with his broken shield ready to face off with thanos’s army and sam coming in on the comm. and then EVERYONE COMING THRU AND KICKING NAMES AND TAKING ASS

legit cheering and crying so much 

valkyrie with her pegasus

shuri with her blasters 

peter parker and his reunion with tony was heartbreaking. tony looked so broken and complete at the same time. he got him back. 

PEPPER FREAKING POTTS 

AVENGERS ASSEMBLE (YEESSSSSSSS)

peter quill’s semi-reunion with gamora and how she doesnt know him but he gets her back

also gamora, nebula and still-evil!nebula was a great scene. nebula killing her past self is some symbolic shit right there AND to protect her sister who she hated

CAROL FUCKING DANVERS COMING TO SAVE THE DAY AND KICK THANOS’S ASS 

im sad that she wasn’t in the film as much but i get why they did it and it also makes me really excited for her future films

but carol getting the gauntlet and peter saying “i dont know how youre gonna get through that” 

and ALL THE BADASS MCU WOMEN COMING UP BEHIND HER READY TO FIGHT AND REPRESENT FOR THE FEMALES (CRYING) 

this is something that couldn’t of been done a few years ago because there weren’t a lot of female superheroes in this universe and just the fact that this scene can make such an impression and become probably one of the most badass scenes of the mcu is one of the best things that came out of this movie.

side note: ‘activate instant kill’ great callback 

and then we get to the sacrifice.

i knew it. i expected it. i read it in fanfics.

i was still not prepared. 

‘I am inevitable’

‘I AM IRON MAN’

FUCKKKKKKKK they really know how to write these movies. 

he knew he would die. he knew he would never see morgan again. but he knew what he had to do. 

his character arch from a selfish man to a selfless man has been the most profound and powerful story. 

rdj and tony stark have really carried this franchise. they were the start. and it makes sense that his death closes out this era of the mcu. 

to rdj: i will never forgive my mom for telling me that she didn’t like you way back when. that really influenced how i thought about you and about tony stark for years. and i limited me from really appreciating and loving iron man and those movies and tony’s character. but as i continued to watch more of you in the mcu and in real life and have seen how you have grown and who you are today, i have so much love and respect for you and your character. im just so upset at the time i lost where i could have fallen even more in love with you. thank you so much for everything you have done over the last 11 years for this franchise. thank you for the time thank you for the memories and the laughs. the journey has been amazing. 

the funeral scene with ‘proof that tony stark has a heart’ 

(also was the the kid from iron man 3 in the back?)

VALKYRIE BECOMING KING (queen? i say king but who knows) of new asgard. look at my killing baby all grown up and being the leader they need.

thor becoming a guardian basically. 

also was quill looking for his gamora? where was the gamora from this timeline on the ship? she wasn’t there in the scene so idk

also fighting with knives to see whos in charge lol

im glad people mentioned/mourned for nat too 

steve rogers 

steve.

i knew he wasn’t coming back.

bucky knew it too.

im wreaked

but at least he got his happy ending. he got his peggy (again idk what that does to her timeline) 

captain sam wilson america in the house.

(old steve looks like joe biden or is it just me lol)

they ended it with a steggy dance and kiss

it really was a perfect end to his story and it wrapped up his character really well. he got that life he deserved 

to chris evans: as this is probably the last time we will see you as captain america let me thank you too for the years and joy that you have brought to my life. youre it for me. you are the reason i became so invested in this world. when you jumped on the fake grenade i was in it with you. chris you are and will always be the best chris in my heart. your passion for this character and understanding of steve rogers and his motivations have created such a memorable performance. steve rogers will always be the og. he will always have my heart. i am so thankful that you took this opportunity and used it and made this character your own. you live up to the standards that steve holds for himself and i am so excited for your future. i am also so glad that you didn’t die in this movie bc i definitely could not have handled it if i had to watch both my favs die. i love you three thousand.

i literally cried throughout the whole movie. there were laughs, cheers, groans, stress, tears, and love throughout this film. i am so grateful that i am alive during this time in cinematic history. there will never be something as great or momentous as this film. a true culmination of 22 films. its never been done and i doubt itll ever be done again

i am also so impressed and amazed by how well this film turned out. it is just amazing how everything fell into place 

im sure ill read other people’s reactions and they will bring up points or problematic things that will taint my view on this movie but i dont want that to ruin my own experience

and for me, this was truly emotionally draining and fulfilling. the feeling of being in that theatre with all those people who love the characters as much as i do and experiencing this film for the first time is something i will never forget. 

people talk about how they remember lining up for star wars.

well i remember sobbing my eyes out when nat died, cheering along with everyone when cap picked up mjolnir and whipped thanos’s ass with it and when carol and the rest of the badass women of the mcu ready to kick ass, crying with everyone as the light went out in tony’s chest and eyes, watching as history was made in front of our eyes.

and the end credits with the og avengers getting recognition with their photos and autographs. 

i love this franchise and these films and these characters i dont know who i would be without them. 

one last thing

thank you to the og avengers. steve tony thor nat clint bruce. chris robert chris scarlett jeremy mark. you will always have a special place in my heart. you were there at the start. you were the reason this all could happen you were the reason i became so invested in these movies. you brought these characters to life and embodied them. you are all so much like your characters the casting is perfect. thank you for your dedication to your work to you fans and to your characters. it means so much that you all stuck through this together and that you are such great friends in real life and i can only hope that one day i can be so lucky as to meet you all and thank you in person. 

[booksncoffee]

under my skin - six

six || here’s to the awkwardness

“Just happy that we’re talking again,” he says.

“Good to know that not talking to me makes you miserable,” she jokes and he lets out a scoff.

“As if you’re not miserable too,” he replies.

read below || story page

Nearly everyone in the office notices that Niall is giving Brooklyn the silent treatment – one that she believes she doesn't deserve at all. Brooklyn thinks it just shows how they like to stick their nose in someone else’s business. Good thing none of them has the audacity to question her why. But then again, she’s pretty sure they already know. News – or rather, gossips – travel fast in that office.

“You can’t blame them,” Suki says as she takes her and Brooklyn’s coffee from the barista and thanks him. She hands one to her friend and takes a sip of the drink before continuing, “I mean you two are pretty close so it’s weird, y’know, to see you not talking to him.”

“He’s the one who’s not talking to me,” Brooklyn argues.

Suki pushes the door open and steps aside to let Brooklyn walk out of the coffee shop. She follows suit before she turns to her friend and asks another question. “Well, have you tried talking to him?”

No, she hasn’t. Brooklyn refuses to be the first one to break the silence or in another words, she doesn't want to lower her ego. Besides, Niall’s the one who started it so he should be the one to end it.

“He won’t even look at me, Suki,” she says before quickly adding, “And in case you’ve forgotten about it, he’s the one who made a dramatic exit.”

Brooklyn keeps telling herself that it doesn't bother her, that she doesn't care if he doesn't want to talk or look at her, but him doing so is beginning to interfere with her work. He’s always helped her when she’s stuck on something or when there’s a word on the tip of her tongue and she fails to retrieve it from her memory, he’s there to help her. Now, when she finds herself unable to write her article, she can’t simply look up and ask for his help.

“Just talk to him,” Suki suggests, to which Brooklyn lets out a groan because she’s been told to do so by Harry as well. “I’m sure he’ll look at you then.”

Brooklyn shakes her head. Although there’s a part of her that wants to believe Suki, she’s not sure she’s willing to do that. What if she talks to him and he doesn't even bother to look up? That’d be embarrassing and it would wound her ego.

“Or are you too proud to do that?” Suki questions. Brooklyn lets out a ‘how dare you say such things’ gasp.  

“I’m not too proud,” she argues rather weakly as she can’t think of an explanation to go with her point. But that doesn't mean she’s not going to try and convince her friend. Looking straight into Suki’s eyes, she enunciates each word that leaves her mouth, “I’m not, okay?”  

Brooklyn’s statement is met with a shrug. Suki doesn't believe her – she doesn't blame her, really, because that’s a weak argument. She blames the lack of caffeine in her system and the lack of sleep she got last night.

“Then you should have no problem talking to him,” Suki says suggestively, one corner of her mouth tugging upwards, before she quickly adds, “If you’re not too proud, that is.”

Brooklyn opens her mouth only to close it a second later. Suki’s right; she is too proud to break the silence between her and Niall. She’s not going to admit it, though, but she’s sure her silence indicates that she agrees with her friend.

&&

Niall is not at his desk when Brooklyn arrives at work. But then again, it’s not a surprise considering that he’s always late.

Brooklyn puts down her bag on the edge of the desk and it falls down a second later. Everything spills out, scattering all over the floor. Brooklyn looks at her belongings, a displeased look written all over her face. The fact that her bag chooses to fall down right now feels a lot like the universe trying to mock her.

“Seems about right,” she mumbles to herself as she kneels down to pick up her things. She lets out a groan as she gets under her desk to retrieve her hand cream and whilst she looks around for more of her possessions, she hears footsteps coming her way. She would’ve immediately gotten out of her desk but when she hears Harry’s low voice, for reasons beyond her knowledge, she decides to stay hidden.

“Are you still not gonna talk to her?” Harry asks Niall, who simply hums his answer – she assumes Harry’s talking to Niall because who else could it be? Right now, there’s only one person who refuses to speak to her. Brooklyn hates herself for eavesdropping, but she’s curious. She needs to hear his answer especially for Harry’s next question: “Is it cos of what happened between her and Louis?”

The silence stretches on for about five seconds before it is interrupted by the sound of her mobile phone ringing out of nowhere. She curses to herself – how could she forget to mute her phone? – as she quickly retrieves the device from the pocket of her jacket and puts it on a silent mode. On the screen, it shows that Oliver’s calling her, but before she can decide whether or not to answer it, the phone call ends. Weird. Oliver must have something important to tell her or else, he would’ve just texted her. Whatever it is, she’ll think about it later.

“Brooklyn?” Harry kneels down in front of her desk and squints his eyes at her. Humiliation washes over her and she wishes the ground would open up and swallow her whole. “What’re you doing down here?”

Cheeks catching fire, Brooklyn clears her throat twice before she looks around and picks up a pen that’s on the floor, waving it around. She didn't notice that pen before but in an attempt to come up with an excuse to explain why she’s under her desk, she picks it up anyway knowing full well that it’s not hers and it’s dirty. She nearly cringes as that thought crosses her mind.

“I was looking for my pen,” she articulates as she waves that pen again as though to prove a point. She hopes to God he won’t point out how weird it is that he found her kneeling down on the floor. Brooklyn quickly gets out from under her desk and brushes her palms against her jeans whilst making a mental note to wash it as soon as she gets home later.

“Oh,” Harry replies, seeming unaffected by what he saw earlier like it happens everyday and she lets out a relieved sigh. She turns around and notices that Niall is not at his desk nor is he standing nearby. “He’s at the break room,” Harry mentions like he knows what’s going on in her mind. Then, before she can tell him that she’s not looking for Niall and that she doesn't care where he’s at, Harry’s already walked away.

This is her chance to prove to Suki – and herself – that she’s not too proud to break the silence and talk to him. In her head, it sounds simple. All she has to do is walk into the break room, tap him on the shoulder if he’s not facing her and say something to him. But what should she say? She hasn't a clue.

Hi? Good morning? You’re overreacting, do you know that?

The last one sounds like something she would want to say to him, but she decides against it. In fact, she decides not to go to the break room and talk to him altogether. If he wants to give her the silent treatment over something that she considers so trivial, so be it. She can handle it.

Except, she can’t. Because when Niall returns to his desk a few minutes later, she finds herself casting glances at him every two minutes, wondering if he’ll question her about it and start talking to her. It’s not the brightest idea she’s ever had, but she can’t possibly be the one to end the silence that has stretched from one day to three days and now three days and two hours?

“Niall.” His name rolls off of her tongue before her brain can finish processing thoughts on whether or not she should just put aside her ego for once.

Shocked, Niall looks up from the screen of his computer and kinks an eyebrow at her. “Yeah?”

Brooklyn could’ve sworn that she could feel relief spreading across her chest when she realises that he’s not ignoring her. But she’s also panicking because she’s expected him to pretend as though he didn't hear her so now she doesn't know what to say next. She didn't think she’d get this far.

“Fuck,” the curse word slips past her mouth.

“What?” Niall asks.

She’s not sure why her brain’s not working. Why her brain can’t come up with a string of words to say to Niall, who’s now looking at her expectantly.

“Can I borrow your pen?” is what she says after what feels like an eternity of silence. Niall’s brows are pinched together, but if he’s confused as to why she’s asking for his pen when she has hers – four of them – he doesn't point it out. He simply reaches for his only pen and leans forward to hand it to her. “Thanks,” she says with a small smile. He nods and returns to his work.

Stupid – that’s what Brooklyn is. She’s the stupidest person in this office. She’s always prided herself as someone who’s good with words but right now she can’t even form a sentence even if it can prevent her from embarrassing herself.

So, she decides to keep her mouth shut and focus on her work. Luckily, the mortification doesn't get in the way of her getting her work done by lunch time which is also when Niall asks for his pen back. He needs to write something down and seeing that he has only one pen, he needs it back. Brooklyn’s quite sure that he would’ve let her keep it if that isn’t the case because Niall’s pretty adamant about this silent treatment thing.

And honestly? She’s tired of this whole ordeal even though she’s told herself over and over that it doesn't bother her. Who is she fooling? It does bother her, but there’s nothing she can do about it.

After giving Niall his pen back, Brooklyn makes her way to the break room. Once she’s seated on one of the chairs, she dials Oliver’s number. He picks up on the second ring.

“Why’d you call me?” The embarrassment from being caught eavesdropping earlier today returns and taints her cheeks with the colour red. Harry might not have said it out loud, but she knows he knows that’s what she’s doing under the desk.

“Good afternoon, Bee.” Oliver says instead and Brooklyn can see his older brother’s stupid smile on his face right now. “Did I catch you on a bad time?”

“You have no idea,” Brooklyn lets out a sigh. “But anyway, you didn't answer my question.”

“We’re having sushi for dinner tonight,” he replies. “At the usual.”

Which is the sushi place fifteen minutes away from her office. Beck’s the one who stumbled upon that restaurant and they’ve been there a number of times. A few of the workers there recognise them – how could they not when the Cooper siblings always come together.

“Okay,” Brooklyn nods even though her brother can’t see it. She knows he can feel it, though. “Anything else?” As soon as those two words leave her mouth, Niall walks into the break room. They make eye contact briefly – three seconds to be precise – before she breaks it by looking away.

“Bring extra cash,” Oliver jokes – she hopes. She’s not exactly broke right now, but she’d like to save some money.

“Well then I’m not going.” Brooklyn’s eyes return on Niall who has his back on her. He’s looking for something in the fridge – he’ll be disappointed to find out that there’s only a few bottles of mineral water and someone else’s sandwiches.

“Jesus, just kidding,” Oliver chuckles on the other end of the line. “See you after work?”

Brooklyn wants to tell him yeah he’ll see her after work, but Niall who suddenly pulls out a chair next to her distracts her. She mumbles incoherent words and before she ends the call, she can hear Oliver’s laughter ringing in her ears.

“Hi,” Niall says when she’s put down her phone on the table.

She looks at him, dumbfounded by his move. “Hi,” she replies and he shoots her a smile. She doesn't reciprocate it because she has no idea why he’s here so she’d rather not show her emotions.

Niall rubs the back of his neck and the silence only thickens the tension in the room. Brooklyn’s glad that no one decides to walk in because she’s sure they would be able to feel it. The last thing she needs is for one of her office mates sticking their nose in her business.

Finally, he clears his throat and says, “I’m sorry.”

“What?” She hears him, but she’s not sure if she’s hearing him right. Did he just apologise? She doesn't know. Maybe she does, but she needs to hear him say it again.

He looks at her and she can see the sincerity in his blue eyes. “I’m sorry for the way I reacted when you told me that you and Louis are dating,” he says in one breath. He clears his throat before he continues. “I’m happy for you and him,” he states and Brooklyn shoots him a ‘are you really?’ look. She just has to do that to be sure. He chuckles and nods. “Yeah, I really am. I guess I was just upset that I wasn't the first person to know about it considering that I was the one who introduced you two to each other.”

Brooklyn rolls her eyes at his statement, one that she knows is going to be something that he holds over her head for as long as she and Louis are dating. “Apology accepted,” she tells him with a nod. A smile takes over his face and she feels her lips quirking. “Also, I’m sorry for not telling you about it.”

“No, no, you shouldn't be apologising,” he shakes his head, making her confused. She’s pretty certain she plays a part in this whole no talking to each other thing. “What happens in your love life is yours to keep. I don’t have the right to get upset because you refused to share it with me.”

“Now you’re making me feel bad,” Brooklyn says as she hits his shoulder.

His eyes widen in horror. “No, God no. That’s not what I’m trying to do,” he replies. He takes a deep breath, then, and adds, “All I’m saying is I’m happy for you and Louis and that I’m sorry for the way I reacted.”

“You’ve apologised for that just now,” Brooklyn points out.

“I know,” he chuckles, cheeks heating up from embarrassment.

“That was a pretty dramatic exit you did the other day,” she reminds him and that only makes his cheeks turn a brighter shade of red. His ears have turned red as well and laughter escapes her mouth.

Niall looks at her, a smile on his lips. She gives him a ‘what?’ look and he simply shrugs. “Just happy that we’re talking again,” he says.

“Good to know that not talking to me makes you miserable,” she jokes and he lets out a scoff.

“As if you’re not miserable too,” he replies. She kinks an eyebrow at him. “I saw you looking at me every five seconds-“

“You’re exaggerating.” Brooklyn interrupts him as she throws a tissue paper at him.

“I’m not,” he counters with a laugh.

“Ah, looks like you two are good now,” Harry says as he walks into the break room with Suki behind him.

“Oh good,” Suki adds. “No more ‘he won’t even look at me, Suki’ talk.”

Brooklyn’s eyes widen at the revelation. Niall, on the other hand, seems pretty pleased by it. Of course, he is. He likes knowing that people talk about him, thinks that it’s cool people would take the time out of their day to talk about him – be it about something good or bad.  

“So it did make you miserable, Cooper,” Niall boasts as he pokes her arm. She refuses to look at him, knowing that he has that stupid smile on his face right now. So she continues to glare at Suki. “Just admit it. C’mon.”

“Sod off,” she says as she gives him the bird. He simply laughs as though receiving a middle finger amuses him.

“Whilst I appreciate the banter and would love to witness more of it,” Harry interrupts, rubbing his stomach. “I’m hungry. Lunch?”

&&

Throughout the lunch, Harry kept on making comments about how they haven’t hung out in a while. Each time he did so, he’d look at Brooklyn and she knew he’s trying to tell her that it was because of her. So, wanting to shut him up, she told him that they all could join her and her siblings for dinner. They wouldn't mind, she’s sure. If they do, then Harry, Suki and Niall might have to sit at another table.

But, five minutes before they can leave the office, Harry and Suki told Niall and Brooklyn that they won’t be able to join them.

“I feel like you’re doing this on purpose,” Brooklyn says as she squints her eyes at Harry who doesn't crumble under her intense gaze like she wants him to. He simply shrugs and tells her again that he’s promised to grab dinner with his sister. Suki, on the other hand, can’t come because she suddenly remembers that she has an urgent matter to attend to. It sounds way too vague for it to be true, but Brooklyn doesn't want to question her. “Fine, your loss then.”

“I’m sure there’ll be a next time,” Harry says confidently. Lowering his voice a little to make sure Niall wouldn't hear him, he wiggles his eyebrows at Brooklyn as he says, “Besides, I wouldn't want to be a third wheeler. You and Niall just made up so you deserve some alone time with him.”

Brooklyn looks at him and gives him her middle finger. At this point, she doesn't even bother to tell him to stop talking nonsense. That’s what he does and what she can do is ignore him. “Whatever,” she tells him instead, her voice as lower as Harry’s.

“What’re you two whispering about?” Niall inquires nosily as he gets up from his chair and makes a short walk to Brooklyn’s desk.

“None of your business,” Brooklyn answers way too quickly. Niall kinks an eyebrow at her and her face flushes a bit.

Harry lets out a chuckle and shakes his head. “I was just telling Brooklyn to have fun at dinner,” he answers the question for the both of them. She doesn't know why he’s not telling the truth, but if she has to guess she thinks it’s for selfish reasons. Like how he doesn't want Niall to nudge him in his rib – he does that a lot to Harry – or like how he doesn't want Niall to tell him that he’s mad.  

“Are you not joining us cos you’re having dinner with Suki?” Niall questions. Harry’s body stiffens at the mention of her name and his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. Niall gasps. “You are, aren’t you, you little shit.”

Brooklyn kicks his shin. “I can’t believe it,” she says. “Dinner with sister, my arse!”

“Is that what he told you?” Niall asks Brooklyn, to which she nods. “Getting pretty good at lying, aren’t ya?”

“Anything for Suki, isn’t it?” Brooklyn sings. Seeing Harry’s face turning red is entertaining to say the least.

Harry takes a few steps away from Niall and Brooklyn. “Okay, you two ganging up on me is not fair,” he says before he turns on his heels and leaves before those two can taunt him for a second longer.

Brooklyn and Niall laugh, amused by the way Harry behaves the moment someone mentions Suki’s name. It’s both cute and funny. “Didn't think it’s true, ya know?” Niall admits once Harry is out of their sights. “And didn't think it’d be that easy.”

“I know,” Brooklyn agrees with a nod. Harry’s poker game face is weakening and she thinks it has everything to do with the fact that his crush is now out in the open. He doesn't have to hide it, at least not in front of them. Looking at Niall who’s still lingering near her desk, she asks, “You’re not gonna bail too, aren’t you?”

Brooklyn texted Beck twenty minutes ago, telling him that Niall would be joining them for dinner. Beck, of course, took only seconds to reply with two eyes emojis. Brooklyn gave him two middle finger emojis and she told him that Harry and Suki would be joining them as well. She still hasn't told him that those two can’t come.  

“And miss an opportunity to have sushi for dinner?” Niall asks, an incredulous gasp leaving his mouth. “Never.”

Brooklyn lets out a laugh. It sure feels nice to be able to talk to Niall again – she’s not going to tell him that. What Suki said earlier was enough to inflate his ego, he doesn't need another reason to boost his already humongous ego.  

Brooklyn’s phone vibrates again as another text message from Beck comes in: can’t wait to see Niall!

She can’t help the scoff that leaves her throat. Beck is somewhat obsessed with Niall and she doesn't even want to know why. Besides, it is not something new that someone is head over heels for Niall – nearly everyone in this office is in love with him.

Good thing, she’s immune to him and his charm.

&&

Brooklyn can feel Beck’s eyes on her when she walks into the sushi place with Niall. He has an impressed look on his face when Niall holds the door open for her and she simply rolls her eyes. Beck loves to tease her. Come to think of it, everyone that she knows loves to tease her. Maybe it’s because it’s easy to rile her up or maybe because they don't have anything better to do with their lives. She’s going to go with the latter.

Before they reach their reserved table, Brooklyn stops walking and turns to Niall, “Are you sure?”

Niall chews on his bottom lip as his eyes dart from her face to her siblings. He looks slightly nervous, but there’s a smile on his lips. “A bit nervous, but anything for sushi, yeah?”

Brooklyn has to roll her eyes at that because as much as she hates to admit it, he’s good under pressure. And he’s good with people – not that she isn’t but she knows people would much prefer to be around him than her.

“Well, if you’re sure, then c’mon.”

The two of them make their way to their table and as soon as they reach it, Beck jumps up from his seat to pull Niall in for a hug. Brooklyn could’ve sworn she sees tension draining out from his body almost instantly. But when Beck returns to his seat, Niall tenses a little. Brooklyn gives him a reassuring smile. “Everyone, this is Niall. Niall, these are my annoying brothers and sister.”

“Hi, Niall,” Nadine grins and waves from her seat. If Brooklyn can describe her little sister based on emojis, she’d say she’s the heart eyes emoji. It’s embarrassing. “I’m Nadine.”

“Hi, Nadine.” Niall smiles.

“The one squinting at you right now is my older brother, Oliver.” Brooklyn says with a smirk. Oliver shoots her a glare but a smile takes over a second later. She looks at Niall and pretends to whisper to him, “He likes to pretend that he’s cool and all that, but deep inside he’s just as lame as Beck.”

“Hey!” Both Beck and Oliver exclaim at the same time.

“For your information, Niall,” Oliver straightens up a little, a knowing smile on his lips. “Bee’s the lamest.”

“I concur,” Nadine interjects before giving their older brother a high five. If they weren’t in public, Brooklyn would’ve thrown something at them. Honestly, will they ever get tired of teasing her? Brooklyn doesn't think that day will ever come.

“You can still run if you want to,” she whispers to Niall, completely ignoring her siblings.

“Nah, I’m good,” Niall says as he shakes his head, to which she frowns at him. It’s either he’s gone mad or he’s got a kink for annoying siblings. Either way, he’s going to regret staying – she’s quite sure of that.

“Alright then,” Brooklyn replies. If he wants to stay, then that’s on him.

Brooklyn moves to pull out a chair next to Beck, but before she can take a seat, her twin brother stops her. “What?”

“No offence, Bee, but I kinda want Niall to sit next to me.” Beck grins when she shoots him a glare.

“And this is why, Beck, you’re my favourite twin,” Niall declares as he takes a seat on the chair next to Beck. He looks at Brooklyn, then, and says, “Sorry, Bee.” He doesn't sound sorry at all. In fact, he seems very pleased that Beck has chosen him over her – everything’s a competition to him.  

The fact that Brooklyn doesn't tell Niall not to call her Bee doesn't go unnoticed by Oliver and Nadine, who are now looking at her with a puzzled look on their face. Normally, she doesn't like it when people other than her siblings call her that. It’s a nickname reserved for them and only them, but maybe she’s changed her mind.

Once everyone is seated, they place their order – it turns out that Beck and Niall like the same sushi and that gives Beck more reasons to love Niall even more. “I think God messed up and gave Bee as my twin instead of you,” Beck states, which earn him laughter from Niall and an eye roll from Brooklyn.

“So, Niall, how long have you been working for the company?” Oliver asks, casually changing the subject.

“5 years,” he answers. “I did my internship there and they decided to hire me as soon as I graduated.”

Brooklyn didn't know he did his internship there. She did know that he started working there after he graduated, but that’s it. So, she turns to him, brows furrowing. “You interned there?” She asks. He nods. “Huh, you never told me that.”

He laughs, nudging her shoulder with his as he says, “Gotta keep you on your toes, ya know?”

Now, Brooklyn can feel her siblings’ eyes on her. She knows they’re going to be talking about this in their group chat later on, but there’s a tiny part of her that’s hoping they’ll forget about it by the end of this dinner.

Oliver, Beck and Nadine take turns in asking Niall some questions – are you really from Ireland? How’s it like living there? How’s Bee like at work? Do you have a girlfriend?

Brooklyn has to stop her siblings the moment the last question is asked. They’re being really nosy and that’s embarrassing. “You don’t have to answer that,” Brooklyn tells Niall.

“It’s fine,” he replies with a shrug. He turns to Nadine and answers her question, “No, I don’t have a girlfriend.”

Nadine claps her hands excitedly, grinning from ear to ear. “Do you have a crush on someone?”

“Nadine, please, that’s such a high school question,” Beck interrupts. Nadine gives him a middle finger. “What we should be asking is-“

“No one’s asking Niall anything anymore,” Brooklyn tells them. Both Nadine and Beck pout. Oliver, on the other hand, chuckles to himself as he takes a sip of his green tea.

“Boo, you’re boring,” Nadine boos and Brooklyn ignores that.

Good thing, their food come a second later because that shuts everyone up. As they enjoy their dinner whilst having small talks – Nadine and Beck can’t seem to shut up even with their mouths full – Brooklyn comes to a realisation that Niall has, once again, succeeded in charming people who he’s meeting for the first time, except for Beck. She can’t help but wonder what can’t he do?

Brooklyn doesn't get to wonder long because before she can eat the last of her shrimp tempura, someone walks up to their table. The way Nadine’s eyes widen makes Brooklyn turn in her seat and that’s when she sees him.

“Louis?” She’s so confused. She didn't tell him that she’s having her dinner here. Which could only mean one thing. She turns to Nadine who has an apologetic look written all over her face. Nadine must have reached out to Louis and invited him here. Why would she do that? Brooklyn doesn't know, but she’ll find out later.

“Hi,” Louis smiles as he waves at everyone around the table. He leans down and presses a quick kiss on Brooklyn’s cheek. His eyes land on Niall after that and if he’s shocked to see him there, he covers it quite well. “Hey, mate.”

Much like Louis, Niall covers his shock with a smile. “Hey,” he replies.

Beck’s eyes dart from Niall to Louis then back to Niall. When he diverts his gaze to Brooklyn, he looks amused and she can tell he has something to say. And she’s right. “This would’ve been way awkward if Brooklyn still has a crush on Niall.”

“What?” Both Brooklyn and Niall say at the same time.

Horrified, Brooklyn can feel colours draining from her face. Both Louis and Niall are looking at her, but she can’t bring herself to look at either of them. Her eyes are fixed on the sushi in front of her whilst everyone waits for her to say something. She should deny that, should tell Beck that he’s mad and that he’s talking nonsense, but when she opens her mouth, nothing comes out.  

She looks at her siblings for help and luckily, Nadine steps up. That’s the least she can do considering that she plays a part in this mess. “Louis, I didn't think you saw my message on your Instagram.”

“I did – in the last minute actually,” Louis admits. “Was about to go home when I saw it, but told the driver to take me here instead.”

“Oh,” is the only response Nadine can think of. “Well, we’re glad that we got to finally meet you.”

“Likewise,” Louis says with a smile. He turns to Brooklyn and says, “So, you had a crush on Niall?”

“I-Uh, yeah,” she confesses sheepishly. She scans his face, searching for any signs of anger or betrayal, but she sees none of it. But he does look like he suddenly remembers something.

“Huh. Niall used to have a crush on you.”

[pcyxiukai]

Allegiance (5)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 Part 16 | Part 17

Description: Time to be arm candy again.

Notes for update: Reuploaded series, not required

Warning: Smut

Pairing: Byun Baekhyun x Reader

Mobile Masterlist | Twitter

I woke up in my bed alone, and as much as I expected it, I hoped otherwise. I groaned when I stretched, knowing that Baekhyun was probably at work by now. I sat up, not wanting to get up at all. I went in the bathroom to brush my teeth before I applied my makeup. I went into the oversized closet and grabbed whatever outfit I saw first.

The skirt was navy blue and the blouse was a creamy color. It tucked nicely into the skirt and I looked in the mirror again. The lipstick I wore was a deep red, and I smiled to myself. I did like playing dress up - more than I should’ve.

I ended up taking the bus to Baekhyun’s building, walking in and seeing the secretary wave to me. I waved back, not stopping to talk to her as I reached the outside of Baekhyun’s office. I grabbed the door handle and twisted it, seeing that it was unlocked. I opened the door and walked in, seeing him in his chair, reading some papers.

“What do you want now?” His gaze softened when he saw me, and he let out a breath. “I’m sorry, I thought you were that fucking secretary again.”

“Is she bothering you?” I tilted my head. “I’m supposed to be the one bothering you.”

“Mm, you could never bother me. Come here.” He pushed his chair out and once I was by him, he grabbed my hips. “I think I might have to fire her. Do you know what happened last time I fired someone?” His hands trailed down to grip my ass, bringing me even closer to him.

“What?” I asked, grabbing his shoulders and rubbed them gently.

“I lost track of how many times I spanked you.” His eyes were dark as the small smirk drifted across his face. I felt wetness form in my panties at the idea of his hands on me again.

“Hm, it’s better to take it out on me than your employees.” I hummed, hearing him laugh.

“If you want less of a punishment later -” He was cut off by the door opening. The annoyance crossed his face when he turned to see who had opened the door. He didn’t bother removing his hands from my ass while he faced a more than shocked Kim Jongdae.

“What’s this about punishments?” He teased. “Baek, I thought you were more professional than this.”

“You act like nobody knows that you fuck your secretary. Sit down.” He pulled me on his lap and wrapped his arms around my waist tightly.

“I can go if I was interrupting.” He sat in the chair across from Baekhyun’s desk.

“No need. We’ll continue when this is over.” Baekhyun’s honesty made me blush. I could feel him pressing against me, he was definitely hard. How he had so much self control was a mystery to me. I felt my own need for him growing the longer his bulge pressed into my butt.

The meeting took forever. It was almost like Baekhyun was trying to torture me - he probably was. I was beginning to wonder if this would ever end, the time was going by so slow. I don’t think I’d ever wanted Baekhyun as much as I did at that moment. The two, however, just carried on with their conversation (that I in no way understood), barely paying attention to the amount of torture I was going through.

Thankfully, now Jongdae was standing up and bowing to Baekhyun before he walked out of the door. Once it closed behind him, I groaned, placing my head against Baekhyun’s shoulder. His hands travelled down my hips and thighs, rubbing the material of the skirt.

“I was just gonna have you suck my dick but now I need to be inside you.” He whispered against my skin before kissing it softly. “It has to be quick but I won’t cum if I’m not in you.”

“What are you waiting for?” I slid off his lap and he nearly growled before pushing me against his desk. He gripped my thighs and lifted me onto it before his lips melded messily with mine. He was already pulling at my skirt and my whole body shivered in excitement until once again, the door opened.

“For fucks sake!” He shouted in frustration.

“Oh my - Mr. Byun, I’m sor-” The voice of his secretary travelled across the room.

“Get the fuck out because I will fuck her whether you’re standing there or not.” He yelled. Once the door closed, Baekhyun’s lips were against mine again. “Fucking hell, why do I never get any alone time here?”

“Baek, hurry.” I whined, feeling his hands grab at my skirt. He pulled my skirt and my panties down with a quick tug before working at the button of his pants. It wasn’t long before his pants were pooled at his feet along with his boxers and he was in between my spread legs, pressing his tip against my entrance.

“I’ll fuck you good later when we have more time.” He nibbled on my earlobe before sheathing himself inside me completely. I gasped and gripped onto him. He pulled me closer to the edge of the desk and spread my legs further, making him get in deeper.

He showed no mercy once he started thrusting. It was clear just how frustrated he was - his hips moved fast and he rubbed roughly against my walls. Without a condom, I could really feel everything and at that moment I realized why he hated them. At least I was on birth control now.

“I’ve been waiting to feel you like this.” His voice was heavy with arousal and it was lowered a couple octaves. I moaned, unable to say anything as he pounded into me. If the floor wasn’t carpeted nicely then the desk would be scraping roughly against the floor with each of his thrusts.

He slid into my g-spot and I moaned out his name, making his hips buck hard into me. He buried his head in my neck and kissed the skin there, trying to get every moan out of me that he could. Whenever Baekhyun and I had sex, it was hard to stay quiet.

“Fuck, I’m close.” I whined to him, tilting my head to the side to let his lips mark all the skin he wanted to. I felt him smirk against my neck as one of his hands trailed down to rub my clit roughly. That was all it took to send me over the edge. I held onto him like my life depended on it as he continued to thrust to ride out my high.

“You’re so tight.” His voice cracked as his hips bucked one more time before I felt the unfamiliar feeling of his cum filling me. I gasped, my body tensing at the strange feeling. It was weird but it felt good. He stilled inside me, breathing heavily.

“You wanna get something for lunch?” He laughed breathily. I felt myself shudder when he left me, almost whining at the feeling of being so empty.

“I don’t think I can ever walk past that poor secretary anymore.” I told him as he adjust himself, pulling his pants and boxers back up. He buttoned his pants and I laughed. “You have my lipstick on your lips.” I slid off his desk and grabbed my panties and my skirt.

“Give me those.” He held his hand out.

“Wha-?”

“The panties. Leave them here.” My jaw dropped as he took them out of my hand, putting them in the pocket inside the suit jacket. “What? They’re just to remind me of you when you can’t be here.” I slid the skirt on and tucked my shirt back into the hem.

“What if your stuff leaks down my leg?” I asked, widening my eyes.

“My stuff? Sweetheart, if it leaks just...go to the bathroom.” He wrapped his arm around my waist and laughed. “Don’t worry, I’ll fire her before you have to see her again. Let’s get out of here.” I grabbed some tissues first and wiped his lips off, more red came off than I thought, I must’ve had a lot of lipstick on.

“I won’t wear lipstick next time.” I chuckled. “Maybe it’s a good thing I didn’t suck your dick.”

“You’re beautiful with or without makeup. Just so you know.” He led me out of the room before I could respond. The secretary watched the two of us as we walked by. He didn’t even look at her, or the death glare she was giving me.

“Does she hate me or something?” I asked, frowning as we got into the car.

“Probably. She’s been trying to get on my dick for months. It’s annoying.” He groaned buckling his seatbelt. I buckled mine. There was a pang in my heart - was I being petty? Over a man that wasn’t really mine? He signaled to Yixing and he started the car, pulling away from the building.

“Have you considered -”

“No.” He replied bluntly. “You know my dick only gets hard for you, sweetheart.”

“That was...sweet...in a way.” I ran my fingers through my hair and he looked at me, his tongue running across his lips slowly before he took his bottom lip between his teeth.

“I’m not a sweet guy.” He shrugged.

“That’s not true.” I said before I could stop myself.

“I’m only nice to you.” He told me. “I can’t imagine being so soft with someone else. It’s almost embarrassing.”

“So it’s embarrassing to be around me?” I teased, raising my eyebrow.

“Oh, hell no. Why would I be embarrassed about bringing around my hot arm candy?” He chuckled. “They’re all fooled that we’re together. This friendship is working out in my favor.” Friendship. I wanted to rip my hair out at this point, he was so confusing.

“Yeah.” I said, feeling my chest tighten even though I knew that’s what I was already. I knew I was arm candy, I knew Baekhyun considered me as a friend. He was also extremely frustrating. If he never made up his mind, how could I make up mine?

I wanted a man that I couldn’t have. He wanted me too, just in a different way. We would have to make it work, wouldn’t we? I didn’t like that because I knew it wouldn’t end in my favor. From now on, I would have to tell him that he couldn’t sleep in my bed and he couldn’t kiss me before he went to work - not that I didn’t like it, but it confused me. I couldn’t afford being confused - literally.

For a couple minutes it was completely silent, an abnormal feeling of awkwardness surrounding us. It was embarrassing that I even began to think that he thought of me as anything else. I was his fuck toy and his publicity stunt. I almost rolled my eyes at the thought of that.

I couldn’t believe that I let myself do this. No matter how much I enjoyed this dress up game, it wasn’t what I was used to and it wasn’t me. None of this was me. I slumped against the seat of the car, leaning my head against it and contemplating what I was going to do.

I could let this continue, be his toy and eventually fall for him, or I could stop and go back to my life before. At this point I didn’t care about the money, it was my mentality. Would I really sacrifice myself emotionally to live this life? Part of me wanted to, that part of me told me to throw myself into the fire that was Baekhyun and pray that I didn’t get burned alive. The other part was much quieter, the part that screamed at me to get away.

Yixing pulled the car to a stop and Baekhyun thanked him before he unbuckled his seatbelt.

“Let’s go.” He put on a bright smile before exiting the car.

Time to be arm candy again.

[bluewhale52]

Little Black Book: The One You Hate (M)

Summary: There are a few names in your Little Black Book, and these seven hold a special place in your heart. Now that you are closing that chapter in your life, you reminisce the time and experience you have had with your seven favourite men, especially with Kim Seokjin, the one you hate.

Pairing: Seokjin x female reader

Rating: Explicit. NO MINORS ALLOWED.

Genre: nonidol!au, strangers to lovers, friends with benefit

WC: 3.9k

Warning: swearing, car blowjob, ass slapping, OC loves going down on Seokjin, sex against a window, sex between coworkers, love-hate relationship between OC and Seokjin (more on OC). I guess that’s about it....

A/N: Many, many, many thanks to @rainbhrts94​ for beta-ing this piece. I was experiencing a burnout and having a hard time putting all my thoughts together, and her reviews and suggestions totally helped getting this fic into its final form. Thank you!! 

Little Black Book Masterlist 

Kim Seokjin was the bane of your existence. 

The cocky, arrogant IP attorney from the New York office had everyone on your floor in an uproar for weeks. You had seen him making one of the conference rooms his home away from home, with a hoard of lawyers and secretaries going in and out at his beckoning. You were watching them with jealousy. Sure, you were a mere junior in the firm and therefore the lowest in the food chain (just slightly above the interns), but you really wanted to be part of the action. 

Then, somehow, during his  last few days in Seoul, you were picked to help him and his team. Your excitement soon turned sour, as you were constantly on coffee and photocopy duties. How could you prove your worth when you were too busy being worked as Kim Seokjin’s personal server? Why couldn’t he ask one of his groupies? There were plenty of secretaries and PAs throwing themselves at him; you bet one of them would be happy to do this... THIS menial job. It was truly beneath your job description, and you started to simply, truly hate the man.

If that was really the case though, how did you end up in his luxury rental car, bending over towards the driver seat, sucking his cock? How did your mouth end up around his shaft, while your saliva dripped down and coated your fingers around his base? Why were your panties getting wetter with every moan and groan that left his lips? Why did you wish he would just spank your ass instead of tugging your hair? Why, when he came, did you gobble up his seed so greedily and lick him clean? Why did you even feel the need to stick your tongue out to him to show him you had swallowed every single drop?

Seokjin exhaled sharply then looked over at you as he tucked himself back in. “You do this with every visiting attorney?” He leered at you.

You rolled your eyes. “Just the one that pisses me off.”

He chuckled. “I should piss you off more then.”

“Are you going to drive me home or what?”

Seokjin started his car. The engine purred, and you pressed your thighs closer together at the soft vibrations that went through the car. “I promised I’d buy you dinner first, didn’t I?”

You flashed him a saccharine smile. “I had a meal already, thanks.”

Seokjin sniggered as he pulled out of the parking lot. He had offered to drive you home - “the least I can do after all your hard work this week” he had said- and while your little apartment was at the other end of the city from the five-star hotel he was staying, it was indeed the least he could do for you. So when you had settled in his car and buckled your seatbelt, after he had asked if he could buy you dinner, you- in your frustration, because you hated him and you just wanted to go home (god, was that too much to ask)- muttered under your breath on how you would rather suck his dick than have dinner with him. 

You had been taken aback when he broke into a brazen smile, challenging you to eat your own words, and damned if you were going to back down. Deep down, you had wanted to see if this perfect man with the perfect face and the perfect suits tailored around his perfect body (he had legs that went for miles, you hated to admit), also had the perfect dick. 

It turned out that he did, and his perfect dick was perfectly hard when you unzipped him. And so, that was how you went down on Kim Seokjin, giving him a near perfect blowjob, in his car, in the basement parking lot of your firm. (Near perfect because honestly, you could have done a lot more had you had more ample space to move.)

You stole a glance at Seokjin as he drove. His side profile was sharp and too good to be true. Flashes of lights only further highlighted his jaw and cheekbones. You looked away, pouting. 

“I’m flying back tomorrow evening.” He broke the silence. “You gonna miss me?”

You scoffed. “You wish. I’ll finally be able to do real work rather than making you coffee.”

He had the gall to laugh. “I’ll be back in two months. Don’t worry.”

The rest of the drive was quiet. How did you get into this? How could you possibly be so horny for him? Was it your dislike for him that made you like this? You should have known better than blowing him in his car just now. What if he started shooting his mouth off in the office? Or worse, in your personal promised land, THE New York office?

“Seokjin,” you started, “about what happened just now, I’d appreciate it if you keep it to yourself.”

“Of course, I’m not Yuna.”

You tilted your head at the name. Yuna was one of the senior partners’ secretary. “What do you mean?”

He raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t know? She’s been telling everyone how good I was in bed.”

“You slept with her?” You couldn’t mask your surprise. “I didn’t hear anything about it. I must’ve been so out of loop with the rumor mills. Wait… Is that why you’ve been asking me to do all that shit? So you don’t have to deal with her?”

“Smart girl.” Seokjin made a turn, stopping just outside your apartment complex. He turned off the engine.

“And here I thought you liked my coffee. And how I photocopied your endless documents.” You said dryly. “Thanks for the ride.”

Seokjin stopped you before you exited his car. “Aren’t you going to invite me to your place?”

You chortled. “Why, you need a goodbye fuck?” You spat it out, but internally, you hoped your playing hard to get was not going to backfire. 

“Hmm,” Seokjin looked out of the car, eyeing your apartment building. “What kind of bedsheets do you have?”

“What do my bedsheets have to do with anything?”

“500 thread count? Or pure linen?” 

You opened the car door and got out. “Bye Seokjin.”

He got out too, walking you to the main entrance. “I’ll buy you some. For next time I’m here. Two months from now.”

You scanned your access card, but he stopped you from opening the door.

“Not gonna kiss me goodnight, sweetheart?”

You turned to him and leaned forward. But instead of kissing him, you stuck your tongue out and licked him, along his jaw, all the way to his ear. You did not miss the shiver that ran through his body when you closed your lips around his earlobe. Smiling smugly,  you opened the door, and as you were about to walk into your safe haven triumphantly, Seokjin slapped your ass. You stilled yourself, not giving him the satisfaction of seeing your reaction. 

“See you in two months, sweetheart.” You heard him chuckle as the door closed behind you.

Kim Seokjin was truly the bane of your existence. 

~~~

He returned to Seoul in two months. You were not keeping track on your calendar, no of course not. You just knew because the commotion was back, as it always was when he stepped into the office. He picked you again to assist his team (Yuna gave you an evil eye for that), and at the end of the work day, when you were filing papers and folders, he slipped a small envelope into your hand. 

“Open it at your desk.” He said in a low whisper. 

You looked at the envelope quizzically before putting it into your pocket. “Is it your credit card? To buy pure linen bed sheets?” You whispered back. 

“Sweetheart, I already bought you a few sets from New York.”

You snorted. Later, when you were back at your desk, you took the envelope out and opened it. You found a note with a gold monogram of Seokjin’s initials at the top. You laughed at the ridiculousness of it. Under his insignia, was a series of digits you assumed to be his mobile number. You saved it in your phone. 

There was something else in the envelope, however. A piece of key card, with the logo of the five-star hotel on one side, and handwritten 4-digit number on the other.  Your eyes widened. Was this an invitation to his hotel room?

You peered out of your cubicle like a meerkat, trying to find where Seokjin was. Then you remembered foolishly you had his number. So you immediately texted him.

-- You [18:40] : Seokjin, WTF??? 

-- You [18:40] : also, nice stationery

-- You [18:40] : it’s me btw

-- Seokjin [18:41] : hurry the fuck up. I’ve been waiting for you in my car

You smiled. The time had finally come, you were going to fuck Kim Seokjin.

~~~

You had to admit, high quality bed sheets felt amazing. It hugged your naked body like soft clouds as Seokjin pounded into you relentlessly. His thrusts had caused your body to move, inch by inch, from one end of the bed to the other. You were not complaining though;  the way he rammed himself into you made your breasts bounce back and forth like a pendulum on a string, the feeling was so delicious.

You gripped the edge of the bed as you watched him over you. His usually perfect hair was messy now, his perfect face was void of the usual laser focus expression you normally saw at work and of the arrogant smirk he liked to give you. His broad shoulders and lean torso filled your vision- you had had fun stroking your hands over his pecs, abdomens and biceps. God, you hated how perfectly hot he was. 

You whined pathetically when he plunged his cock and pushed it as deep as he could into you. Seokjin dropped to his elbows, and you welcomed the new weight on top of your body. He stilled, letting his hardness rest inside you. You wrapped your legs around him and could not help but clench around his cock. He groaned against your chest at the sensations. 

“Do that again, sweetheart,” he nibbled and licked your collarbone, “squeeze my cock again.”

You did as he asked, tightening your walls around him before loosening again, repeating the movements and creating your own erotic Kegel exercise around his cock. You could feel Seokjin’s breath faltering on your neck, and before long, you were careening towards your peak.

“Seokjin,” you gasped, “close.”

He remained still, even at your warning. Choosing to work his lips on your neck and up to your ear instead. Finding a spot behind your ear, he licked and nipped at it, sending shudders all over your body and suddenly pushing you to your release. Seokjin held you down as your body shook, willing himself not to come, but the way your pussy walls massaged his cock, it did him in. 

You and Seokjin held each other tight as you both came. Your fingers dug into his shoulders, his hips pressed harder against yours as he shot his seeds inside you. Finally groans and moans gave way to heavy breathing, and as your heart rate slowed down, sanity returned. 

You opened your eyes. “God, don’t do that EVER again.” You slapped his shoulder. “I’m super ticklish there.”

Seokjin hummed, and nipped at the spot again. You yelped, but in the process you also squeezed his flaccid cock, still sheathed fully in you. “Now I know what to do when you talk too much.” He mumbled. 

You tried to wriggle away from his mouth, but the more he teased your spot, the more you moaned, and the more your body became heated again. You were all ready for round two, but your stomach betrayed you, for it growled shamelessly. Seokjin’s eyes widened at the sound, and the two of you burst out laughing.

“OK, I’d better feed you before I fuck you against the window.” He pulled out of you, holding on to the spent condom on his dick. Walking to the bathroom, he gestured to the phone on the bedside table. “Whatever you order, order the same for me.” 

And that was how you spent your first night with Kim Seokjin. Fucked out of your brains and eating room service food in his luxurious hotel room. 

~~~

You gave Seokjin your Saturday nights whenever he was in town, which was only about three to four times a year.. You hated to admit it, but you enjoyed your time with him. It was obvious he liked your company too, and your arrangement worked out well. You both wanted sex with no strings attached. You enjoyed arguing with each other, although it felt like Seokjin lived solely to rile you up to get a reaction out of you. He said he was training you to hold your poker face better; after all, didn’t you want to be a successful attorney like him?

And that was the situation you found yourself in that evening. Seokjin kept prodding at you until your temper snapped, and you roughly pushed him to the chaise in his room. You quickly worked on his jeans and his boxers, pulling them down to his ankles, only to find his cock already hard and weeping with precum.

You cocked an eyebrow at him. “Making me angry turns you on so much, huh?” You wrapped your fingers around his shaft, lazily stroking it a few times before squeezing it gently at the base. Seokjin hissed, but his annoying smirk never went away. 

“You can’t shut up your opponents by going down on every one of them,” he teased, his hand reached out to touch your hair but you swatted it away with your free hand, “no matter how sexy you are when you’re angry.”

You scowled as your hand continued stroking him. Keeping your eyes on his, you closed your lips around the head of his cock, your tongue lapping up his precum. Seokjin sucked in a breath. 

“So what should I do then?” You asked before licking up and down his length. Seokjin threw his head back, enjoying the wetness of your tongue on his hot member. 

“Hmmm… “Seokjin moaned. “Learn to control your temper better, sweetheart. You know how our kind is…”

Seokjin took a deep breath. Your tongue was still busy on his cock. It drove you nuts how addicted you were to the taste of him. “... especially to female attorneys..” Seokjin continued.

“Excuse me?!” you sat up straight, but your hand was still around his member, unconsciously squeezing it a little harder than normal.

“Ouch!” Seokjin yelped. “What are you trying to do? Pull my dick off?”

You sniggered, your grip loosened slightly as you continued to stroke him. “Tell me,” he asked, “how did your last case go? You almost lost because the opposing attorney kept throwing jabs at your gender, am I right?”

Your cheeks reddened. “How did you know about that?” you pouted.

“I get regular updates on you, sweetheart, I like to know how my protege is doing.”

You eyed him skeptically. “Wow, I’m so honored.” Your tone was flat, but your hand started pumping his cock faster. You thought back to the moment you nearly lost your temper in court, and you buried the memory deep. You leaned in and started to take Seokjin’s length into your mouth when it suddenly dawned on you.

“Wait,” Seokjin’s cock popped out of your mouth. “Is that why I didn’t get the promotion? I won that case but I didn’t get my promotion because I was too emotional?”

Seokjin groaned, in desire and in frustration. He looked down at you, kneeled between his legs, eyebrows scrunched up, eyes angry, mouth in a pout, and his hardness in the mercy of your hand. He ran a hair through his hair. 

“Now that you recognise the problem, will you solve it?” 

You nodded.

“So can we please continue?” He asked. 

You nodded again before your mouth returned to his cock. You enveloped your lips around the head, sucking it gently and licking it until you heard him moan. You started taking more of him into your mouth, the muskiness of his scent filling your nose. His hands found your head and held it gently, his fingers carding your hair. 

You continued to lubricate him with your saliva, relaxing your mouth and your throat to take all of him in. You steadied your breathing as you sucked in your cheeks, and you slowly pulled out all the way to the tip, before filling your mouth again. “That’s good sweetheart, you know just how I like it.”

You stupidly beamed at his praise, and it encouraged you to pick up your pace, sucking him faster and harder. His breathing was getting heavier, and you massaged his balls, eager for him to cum in your mouth. “No, no,” he pulled your head, and you came up gasping for breath. “I want to be in you now.”

You and Seokjin undressed immediately, and Seokjin went to the bathroom to retrieve a condom. He rolled the rubber as you positioned yourself by the window. The window felt cold on your back, but your core was wet and hot.  Seokjin lifted you up effortlessly, and your legs immediately wrapped around his waist, and your arms around his neck. 

Seokjin spat into his hand and rubbed his saliva over your cunt. Then the blunt head of his cock was at your entry, and he pushed it in, inch by inch until he was fully inside you. Adjusting his grip, ensuring he got you secured between him and the window, he started to move. Slowly at first, and once your juices were flowing and leaking, he went faster. 

You felt sweat developing on your back, making your body slippery against the glass. You dug your fingers into Seokjin’s shoulders, anchoring yourself up as he continued to pound into you. You turned your head to the side, catching the city skyline in the corner of your eye. 

“God, Seokjin,” you whined wantonly, “When I get that New York position, will you fuck me like this with the New York skyline in the background?”

Seokjin huffed, his hips not missing a beat. “Sweetheart, you’ll never get the New York position.”

You snapped your head back to look at Seokjin, he was still thrusting mercilessly into you. You pulled his hair. “What do you mean I will NEVER get the New York position?”

Seokjin’s smirk was back. He pulled out slowly then he rammed himself back into you hard, making you mewl. “It means…”

He took his time thrusting into you again.

“... you will…”

Another slow and hard thrust.

“... never get…”

He was hitting the sweet spot inside you.

“... the New York position.”

You cried out at his last thrust. “Because I’m too emotional?” you asked breathlessly.

“Because… “ his mouth was inching closer to the sensitive spot on your ear, “we’re closing that office.”

You gasped, at the news and at Seokjin’s sudden change of pace. He was fucking you fast again, pressing your body harder against the window. 

“Wait.. ah, Seokjin… “ you said between pants, “does that mean…”  

You could not finish your question because Seokin began nibbling and sucking your ear, sending your body rigid as the pressure on your cunt was waiting to explode.

“Yeah,” Seokjin panted. “I’ll be back in Seoul for good, sweetheart.”

You threw your head back against the window as Seokjin continued pistoning into you, pushing you towards and over your climax. You wailed in pleasure as the heat enveloped you. He did not let up at the slightest, his hips kept thrusting into you ruthlessly even as you began to sob from the oversensitivity.

Seokjin wrapped his arms around you tightly to move you, and you both collapsed on the bed, his cock still secure in you. He rolled to his back, bringing you on top of him. He slapped your ass. “Can you ride me?”

You pushed yourself up with your arms, your hair curtaining Seokjin’s face. You started to move your hips back and forth as you tried to get your breathing back. The sensitivity in your sex slowly turned into pleasure once again, and you quickened your pace. Seokjin moved his hands to your breasts, squeezing the flesh and flicking the nipples as they swung before him.

“Does… does this mean you’re gonna be my boss?” You asked between moans.

“Do you want me to be your boss?” Seokjin tugged your nipples, causing your back to arch.

“You’ll scold me everyday.”

“And I’ll fuck you every Saturday.” He thrusted up to meet your hips. “You like that?”

“Fuck no…” you felt the heat returning back to your core. “I’ll just hate you even more.”

Seokjin slapped your ass. “Just admit it, sweetheart, I’m your favorite among all your other fuck toys.”

You stammered as Seokjin thrusted up again, and he took the opportunity to pull you down onto his chest. Planting his heels on the bed, he held you down as he started thrusting his hips to plunge his cock into you, fast and hard. You closed your eyes tightly and felt tears slipping down your cheeks as you came closer to your climax.

“Come on sweetheart,” Seokjin whispered in your ears, “give me one more. Milk my cock.”

You cried out as your body jolted and shook. Seokjin kept holding you down, chasing his own release too. His thrusting became more messy, and he finally came too, swearing and groaning loudly.

You stayed still on top of Seokjin, your heart beating out of your chest, and so was his. You both lay on the bed, bodies sticky with sweat, waiting for the haze of your orgasms to pass.

“If you become my boss,” you whispered, “I want no special treatment.”

“Of course not, sweetheart. The only special treatment you get is I feed you after sex.”

You chuckled. “Speaking of…”

Seokjin rolled you over and pulled himself out. “Yeah yeah, order whatever you want.”

~~~

Today

Seokjin walks into your room. You barely glance up, used to him barging in whenever he likes.

“So, Yuna told me there’s a tall drink of water waiting for you in the lobby.” He plopped down on the little settee in your office. “So naturally I went to see. And you’d better get there before Yuna devours him.”

You glance at your watch. It’s ten minutes to 7pm. You smile softly, leave it to your boyfriend to arrive early. “He’s my boyfriend. I told you about him.”

Seokjin ahs. “So, that’s the man who took away my Saturday night fun.”

You glare at him as you tidy up your desk. “Yeah well, he feeds me AND reads me poetry after sex. So, sorry.”

Seokjin stands up as you ready yourself to leave. 

“Besides, now we play Maple Story every Saturday, surely that’s more fun?” You tease him. He chuckles and rubs his chin. He accompanies you walking down the hallway towards the lobby. 

Before you arrive at the glass door separating the inner office from the reception area, you turn to Seokjin and ask, “Do you want to meet him?”

Seokjin thinks for a moment. “Does he know about our history?”

“He knows MY history, but I never share any names with him.” you explain. “He only knows you as my asshole boss.”

“Now I am offended. I thought I was a nice boss!”

“Well, I rant about you too much maybe. But he doesn’t mind, because you know what happens when I get riled up.” You wink. 

Seokjin laughs. “What a lucky bastard. OK, come on, introduce your asshole boss to your boyfriend ”

Published 01022021

[mammawolff]

i saw your submission to doubleshuck and im incredibly interested in hearing other paranormal stories you have, particularly the wendigos if you'd be willing to share!!

Of course! I have a literal lifetime of paranormal and cryptid stories to share- growing up "gifted" and on a variety of farms certainly helped with this. From average hauntings to not-so average haunting, angry native spirits and more. For now, the thing I never say aloud: Wendigo. Typically an Eastern legend, not usually found out West where I am, until recent reports claim otherwise. When I was younger, my family and I would make multiple trips a year out to the nearby park(Waterton National, for those wondering) in the summer. Family bonding, or whatever. This started from the time I was 5, until I was 11 or so. This particular instance happened when I was 7 or 8, I believe. Again, I have timeline recall problems so though I do my best to remember when things happened specifically, sometimes I may be a little off. Our trips started out the same, every time. Bear's hump to warm up, then down to Cameron falls, lunch at the lake, an hour or so shopping, then the afternoon in red Rock canyon. This time, we had to make a few adjustments to our usual schedule. We made it up Bear's Hump just fine. Because this particular hike is up a straight cliff, the path is entirely switchbacks. Pretty tiring for a young kid(especially the pudgemeister I was) so we took our time, and my siblings reached the top well before myself and my mother did, as usual. We sat and listened to the wind blowing for a while before heading back down. Side note: Now, I have recently seen that the path has changed since the years I've been there. I went a few weeks ago and noticed parts of the paths washed out, and it had to be rebuilt slightly differently. The new path certainly doesn't allow this behavior. On our way down, I noticed that a section of switchbacks would allow a portly kid like myself to run straight down the mountain, and win any potential races he or she may have with their siblings. So, I dared my brothers to a race. "First one down gets the bag of jerky!" I shouted back at them, and immediately flew down off the path. It was damn good elk jerky, okay, from my uncle.Disclaimer: this is stupid. My brothers followed suite quickly, and raced down after me, though I already had a considerable lead. Dread grew, but I pushed it down and focused on not tripping and falling down the damn mountain. As such, I didn't notice what I was approaching at lightning speed until I passed, locked eyes, and threw away all concerns of falling and pumped my chubby little legs harder and faster. You see, I suspect I surprised it as much as it surprised me. It was standing watching the path, waiting for someone to approach close enough to snatch without anyone noticing. It wasn't expecting a rounded ball of a kid to come bouncing down the mountain with the force of a thousand suns- which is why I'm certain I'm alive today. The creature stood probably 15-18 feet tall, though I could be wrong because of a child's perspective, but it stood as tall as the shortest trees around it. Nearly pitch-black, with white-yellow gleaming eyes set in a bulbous skull atop a spindling frame. The arms at its side ended with massive hands, the claws at least 8 inches if not more. I say I startled it because that was the expression it gave me as I passed. The unmistakable confusion paired with an unspoken "the fuck?" Written in its eyes. I do not know if it followed me, but I certainly didn't stop to find out. Thankfully in the small parking lot, there was a larger RV-type truck, with a smaller red pick-up parked "behind" it(in regards to the creature), which hid the pick-up from view of the path. An older gentleman was getting into the pick-up as I hit the pavement, turned, and leaped into the back of his truck. I don't know if this is a common occurrence or if it was the terror bleeding from my every pore, but he didn't question me. Rather he just started the truck and immediately drove off with me in laying flat in the bed. He stopped in front of the rcmp office in the middle of the hamlet, where I thanked him. He asked what I saw, and I shook my head. "A-a bear, I suppose." He nodded solemnly before telling me, "It's best not to name some things, girl. Brings them to you. You saw a bear, and that's what you'll tell the rangers, too." I nodded in agreement before he drove off. And that's exactly what I told the rangers. There was a bear, I got scared, and I hid in someone's truck as he was driving and he didn't notice until I sat up and scared the bajeezes out of him. Mum was pissed, and we ended up leaving the park early because of my "irresponsibility." I asked my brothers if they had seen anything. Two answered a bit too quickly with "No," but B said "A.. bear. Big and scary and on her hind legs to protect her cubs." He told me recently that he knew it wasn't a bear, and he knew I knew. But again, sometimes Rules don't need to be spoken to be understood. My second encounter was when I was 15 or so. I was fairly active in the LDS church, as that's what I had been raised into and what I was to comply with if I wanted a good relationship with my parents. As such, every year we(the women in the church) went camping somewhere, usually included a hike somewhere new and wonderful. Occasionally the men are involved, too, and this was one of those times. Unfortunately I do not remember the name of this hike, as despite the encounter, I would love to go back because I do have some fond memories of friends since passed there. This particular hike was a couple miles long along the side of a mountain/valley, where at the end a beautiful lake formed. A ranger accompanied us with a gun just in case. Everyone got to the lake just fine, we sang our song, and headed back. The faster "pods" of people quickly passed myself and the "slow pod" of friends I was with(I unfortunately did not lose the pudge I was granted in childhood), and the ranger stayed behind with us to make sure we were the last off the mountain. About a mile back to the trucks, our pod was fairly isolated, and a friend quietly said "oh, look! A bear!" And pointed across the valley to the other mountainside, where in a smaller clearing free of trees a bear ran past. He was headed away from us, down the mountainside and towards the lake, so the ranger did nothing but watch. The other kids kept walking a few moments after spotting the bear, as darkness would fall sooner rather than later and nobody wanted to be close to the bear when it did. And besides, we had all seen bears before. But the ranger continued watching, and I thought it strange so I did too. I followed his gaze back to where we first saw the bear, and quietly gasped in horror when a tree detached itself from the edge of the treeline, hunched down to run on all fours after the bear, almost like trying to hide in the openness of the clearing. It had similar characteristics of the creature I saw in Waterton, from what I could tell. Impossibly long, spindled body and limbs, and I could see its claws glisten in the dying sunlight even from the half mile distance between us. I can only assume it didn't see us, or was more interested in the fresh blood of the bear so nearby to it, but as I met eyes with the ranger and he made a "shushing" motion with his finger as he continued down the path. After a few moments he said quietly, no louder than the wind, "There are some things that shouldn't be named out loud. Written down, that's fine. But never spoken." I nodded and said "I've seen bears like that before, sir." And we hurried the group along, reminding them of the ever falling night, and the danger of falling it brings. So, yeah. I never speak of Wendigo, and you will never hear me say their name. Only in writing, and even then I burn sage and dragon's blood to keep me protected. Boy howdy I would sure love to tag this but mobile hates to tag asks! When I get the chance I will edit this with #lupine blogging, #creepy, #long ass post and #cryptids.If you wanna hear more, send an ask! Ask about the reaper in the hallway 😋 the angry native is a good one, too. I also have some experiences to share of my brother's, B. Things happened before I was born, I guess.