#i need... more of their dynamic... pls... season 3 pls... | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

simpxxstan · 1 year ago

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Nobody Else (part 1)

pairing: chaebol!wonwoo x chaebol!fem.reader

genre: enemies with benefits to lovers, smut (minors do not interact please), mild angst

summary: the girl who was proud about making her own destiny, the boy she swore to never interact with. sometimes it takes a lifetime to know someone, even yourself. because who would've seen any of this coming?

chapter word count: 13k

warnings: honestly, way too much smut. cockwarming, oral sex (m. receiving, f. receiving), usage of sex toys, orgasm denial, gagging, overstimulation, dom-sub dynamics, public sex (i don't even know if it's feasible, please suspend your beliefs about reality while reading aah), unprotected sex (please do not do this irl), breast play, spanking, use of spit during sex, usage of petnames (darling, babe, sweetheart for female), usage of word slut (for female), usage of sir and daddy (for male), sir kink, daddy kink, office sex, use of profanities, lots of bickering. let me know if i missed something out!

a/n: and we're back. (or are we?) honestly, i write when i get the time. and i don't know when i'll get my schedule to clear up again </3 hopefully within a few months my life will be back on track.

hope you enjoy this!!! posting this in two parts because it's way too long otherwise. do leave your thoughts, i swear reading them makes me so happy. open to hearing criticism too so pls my inbox is right there for you to rant. have a nice day!

You’ve known Jeon Wonwoo since the age of eleven, but you’d never thought you’d end up like this. Being in the same social circles as you and your family, the young Jeon heir had never really been your friend. However, that did not mean you didn’t meet him. In fact, you met him quite often. He went to the same school as you, he was always there at the parties you went to, and everyone around you kept talking about him. No matter what the season or the age, everyone was infatuated with Jeon Wonwoo.

Objectively speaking, no.

Subjectively speaking, not at all.

You could never understand why one would find a man with no beauties to his personality, nothing to his merit except a pair of thick-rimmed glasses and those never-changing black clothes, attractive. Apart from that, he never exchanged a friendly conversation with you. Never a moment of warmth. And you reciprocated the feeling absolutely. You had no desire to seek his favour. He simply never left the periphery of your life, and it annoyed you. But not enough to bother you. You’d grown used to the sight of the tall boy, who never spoke to anyone except his tight-knit group of absolute losers. And he should have remained in your periphery, never in your focus. You wanted nothing to do with the cold, arrogant nerd.

So naturally, you’d never, in your wildest imaginations, thought that you’d be here, sucking his dick off under his desk while he engaged himself in a meeting on his desktop. You had been in that position for hours, your mouth lolling over the wetness surrounding his penis, both from your saliva and the slow trickle of his pre-cum. While he has switched from meeting to meeting, both with corporates in Korea and internationally, his suit impeccable and the glasses sitting neatly on his nose, you’d cockwarmed him. That would’ve still been fine, had you not enjoyed it so thoroughly that it had become a routine for you both over the months.

After a solid two hours (and a few more minutes), he’d allowed himself to push back the chair a bit, pull his pants down further, spread his legs wide enough to meet the annoying temptation that had been bugging him for so long, and thread his hands into your hair, indicating you to step out of the haze you’d fallen into and get on with the job. And oh boy, you’d obeyed. At this point, it was a reflex for you. Feeling the way his hands caved your jaws and neck, you leaned into his touch, all while keeping your eyes on the little twitches he made on his face. Perhaps it was his need to be dominant, or perhaps it was just his arrogance, but he never slipped during sex. Even when you were giving him the most mind-blowing blowjob, like right now, using techniques you’d picked up over time, slipping your tongue under his cock to feel his veins throb around your tongue, gently nipping the foreskin to make the red tip burn harder, and taking him into your throat completely without a moment of a gag reflex. He’d never show you how much he liked it, never praised you, never revealed that he wanted it as much as you did.

It was all a part of the act, you knew that.

It was designed to make you more eager to perform well, more eager to earn his praise, more eager to put your all into this.

Jeon Wonwoo, with his signature cold stares and the arrogant tilt of his smirk, would break you every time, and you’d come back for it, again and again, addicted mindlessly, like a drug.

Eventually, his cum would flow down your throat, and you’d feel his body relax against yours, as he let you lay your head on his thighs for a few moments to recuperate.

But never enough.

“Up, sweetheart. I thought you had a party to attend.”

He helps you stand up, smirking at the pool of your cum on the floor where you’d been sitting, with the bullet vibrator parked deep into your pussy, which had given you endless orgasms and sent you into heaven, all while you’d felt the weight of Wonwoo’s warmth on your tongue.

His words bring you back to reality, as you limp towards the washroom to clean yourself, slowly breaking your daze. “I do. When are you going to change?”

“I don’t want to. I’ll look good even if I don’t doll up.” With a snicker he goes back to his desktop, and you roll your eyes at the implication of his words.

“I still don’t understand why you’d ask them to deliver the dress here.”

“It is pretty late. Imagine if I’d have to go back home, change, and then leave for the venue. Too much hassle. I would have to leave an hour back. Your place is much closer to the venue.”

“And so you chose to make my bedroom your vanity room?

From Wonwoo’s vantage point in the study, he has a direct view into the master bedroom, where you’re settling yourself into a fresh pair of lingerie and the jumpsuit, which had been designed exclusively for you, for this occasion. The jumpsuit was perfect, made to look professional and yet classy, just as the event demanded, and in midnight blue, your favourite shade. You smiled while wearing it, your secretary had truly learnt your style well and ordered the perfect outfit for you.

“I’ll be out in ten.” You can feel his eyes on your figure, even from the distance.

You’re too engrossed in fixing the zip on your back to notice Wonwoo leaning against the doorframe, his eyes fixated on you.

“Do you need help?”

You give him a look. There’s that semi-permanent smirk lingering on his face, he knows he’s pushing your buttons. Outside of sex, you would never ask for help. In fact, you wouldn’t ask Wonwoo for anything. What could he do for you that you couldn’t do yourself?

He doesn’t say anything else, he quietly steps in and takes grip of the zip. After pulling it up, he doesn’t say a word, carefully watching you wear your scanty makeup. It could be a little creepy, but you surprisingly don’t mind. Or perhaps you just don’t care.

“Ah fuck. I forgot to bring the lip gloss.”

“But you just wore lipstick?”

“No,” you turn around and outside of Wonwoo’s periphery. Slipping your feet into your heels and putting on the earrings that had also been sent by your secretary, you told him, “The lip-plumping one. It makes my lips look nice. Well, nicer. They’re already quite pretty, as I’ve been told.” You hear Wonwoo scoff behind you, and you turn around to face him.

“Well, how do I look?”

His hands are in his pockets, his shirt buttons are halfway opened and his hair is messy, but he still looks better than you do after all this effort.

“They’ll love you.”

You smile. That’s more than enough feedback from Jeon Wonwoo. He doesn’t have to praise you outside sex if he can’t do it while fucking.

“They always do.”

And they do. The photographers, the journalists, the social elites, the ministers, their wives, their mistresses, the chaebols, their heirs, and their bastards. Everyone loves you. How could they not? You’re perfect in every way possible. At twenty six, you’re at the height of your life- young, charming and intelligent, everybody wants you. Ever since you took your father’s already prospering business to new heights four years ago, straight out of grad school, by introducing Korea to the world of AI like they’d never seen before. The industry had not just been disrupted by your introduction of AI to the field of healthcare and diagnosis, but also awed by the sheer magnanimity of your creations. You hadn’t spent years perfecting your ideas in vain.

Everyone wants a little bit of your time, a little word with you, slipping in a plea and a pickup line in the same tone, and you love the attention they throw at you. Honestly, this is where you were born to be. The spotlight is where you deserve to belong.

But eventually, the crowd dissipates, leaving you walking towards the bar looking for a martini, arm looped into the arm of your sister. “Y/N-ah, I tell you, let’s go to Jeju this weekend! The weather is perfect now- not too hot, not too cold. The forecast also recommends visiting now!” She tugs at your arm playfully, and you smile fondly. She knows your answer, but she never stops trying. “And what about your husband?” “I need a break from him, please. He’s getting on my nerves!” “Darling, it’s your hormones.” She slaps your wrist. “No! Stop saying that. Kyungmin says the exact same thing, in the exact same tone! It’s so annoying. Stop ganging up against me! Anyway it’s not my fault I’m pregnant. The least he can do is take care of me. If he can’t take care of me now, how is he going to be trained to become a father? Huh? How will he take care of our daught-” “You don’t even know that.” “I do. I have a feeling.” “You can just say you want a girl, you know. There’s nothing called ‘a feeling’.” “Damn it. Just because you have a trash sixth sense doesn’t mean you can dismiss mine, my intuition never goes wrong!”

And you’ve reached the bar, and the bartender serves you your drinks- just a virgin mojito for your sister though. “The canapes are great.” “Hmm… But I’m craving oranges! That’s why we should go to Jeju, yah!” “Unnie, you’ve gotta stop. Don’t excite yourself more than you need to. Do you want orange juice?” “No, eww. Not this artificial flavour.” “If you really want to go to Jeju, take Kyungmin Oppa and go. Don’t ask for me- I’ll never be able to keep up with your tantrums.” “Hmm. That is true. Now that you mention him, I suddenly miss him. For all my complaints, I still love him though-” You giggle at the sudden sappy tone of your sister, tuning out parts of her endless chatter, while your eyes search for someone in the crowds.

Jeon Wonwoo stands out, so he’s easy to find.

He’s wearing the same suit he’d worn earlier, not changed like he had told you. He looks tired and yet, good. Before you realise it, he’s looking back at you, and walking towards where the two of you are standing.

“Oh! Wonwoo-yah! How have you been?” Your sister asks, ever friendly. She’s the only one in the family who doesn’t show that the Jeon and Y/L/N families are rivals in business and hence, avoid speaking to each other. That norm wasn’t broken by you. To be fair, even the nights you spent together had very little conversation. No orgasm-induced dopamine could break through the wall of your egos to encourage you to be friendly with each other. Hell, outside of the bedroom, Wonwoo isn’t even attractive enough to catch your eye.

“Hmm, I’m good, Noona. I see your baby is growing fast. How many weeks left?” His tone is courteous, formal, and sweet. Makes you want to laugh at how different he sounds from the usual voice you hear him speak in.

“About eleven weeks to go. This trimester has been killing me, I swear. I’ve told Kyungmin I don’t want any more kids. Ever. I don’t think I can go through this again, and I haven’t even gotten to the pain of delivery yet. I don’t even know if I can go back to skating after this.”

You scoff. “As if. First get over your never-ending honeymoon period. Then talk about not having any more kids.”

“I support Y/N here. The company will need an heir, and I don’t see anyone else providing any.”

You sigh. There he goes. You roll your eyes at him, “An heir doesn’t have to be through blood relation. Merit exists. But then how can I explain this to someone whose existence is owed to nepotism.”

“Rich of you to say so.”

You take a step closer to Wonwoo, too riled up by the calm way he’s speaking. “I’ve built my world from the ground. From level zero. I haven’t just sat on a throne that was presented to me.”

“Forever the brat, huh? Running your mouth even in public, begging me to shut it?” You notice that Wonwoo has also come closer to you, and you can smell the cologne off him. He’s a solid four inches taller than you, even when you’re wearing heels. But you stare right back into his eyes, yours angry and his cold and superior, as usual. You wonder for the n-th time if his blood even runs warm. You’re tempted to retort back, disgusted by the below-the-belt remark, going off-topic, but your sister’s gently pulling your arm, reminding you that you’re in public. “Back off. Don’t make a scene, guys. Let’s not ruin the evening?” She puts on her best smile to calm you down, and you step away, seething in vain. Wonwoo’s smirk never leaves his face as you two bow and walk away. The way he’s looking at you reminds you of other memories.

You suddenly wonder if your sister had heard the comment or not. Considering her though, probably not. Thank god it was her and not someone else.

The rest of the party flows seamlessly. You’re spiralling slightly in your head though- overthinking can’t be avoided. The way Wonwoo was successful in riling you up has shocked you, to say the least. There have been a thousand such instances, but you don’t remember losing your temper to this extent in any of the situations. But somehow, Wonwoo talking about you not being interested to have children vexed you so much? It just didn’t add up.

It’s the first time you’re doubting your current situation. You’d been absolutely convinced that settlement between the two of you was more to your benefit than his. It wasn’t like you had a dearth of men wanting to fuck you. It was quite the opposite. But a few scandals and rumours had taught you that keeping your private life discreet was the optimal choice. Especially if you were a woman and people simply assumed you’d sucked someone’s dick to get ahead in life.

But the arrangement with Wonwoo was so perfect. He wanted discretion, so did you. He didn’t want to get involved with a random hookup who could get pregnant, you didn’t want a random hookup to get you pregnant. He wanted someone to match his wavelength, and you needed a vent for your stress. Now that you consider the drastic improvement in your energy and efforts, in retrospection, becoming Jeon Wonwoo’s submissive had been the best decision of your life.

It had begun quite suddenly. At your sister’s engagement party. Everyone was delighted with the new couple, especially you. Your sister had never shown any desire to join the company, satisfied with following her passion of ice skating. And now she was getting married to her boyfriend of five years, the love of her life, and everyone was left fondly jealous of the pure happiness on her face, even you.

Perhaps it was because of this jealousy that you’d decided to flirt with Wonwoo at the after-party. Against your better judgement, you’d drifted towards him by the end of the night, until your knees were touching on the barstools, and he was leaning back looking over your figure again and again. I was wondering which spot would be ideal for me to bite first- your collarbones, your cleavage, your thighs or your belly button, he would tell you later. God knows why you’d suddenly decided to find him attractive after fifteen years of knowing each other, but that was it. You’d ended up in a hotel bed that night, fucked until tears ran down your cheeks, begging him to go harder and faster whenever he slowed down to look at the mascara dripping down your face, leaving hickeys all over the soft skin of your breasts, not letting you rest of a second of the night, going at it till dawn.

“Wonwoo… I can’t…” you’d begged, your words muffled through your panties stuffed into your own mouth, the overstimulation hitting you hard as you squirmed against his tongue fucking his cum back into your pussy. “You can, sweetheart, give me another one… hmm? Do you want to be a good girl?”

And you had let loose. Given yourself up to him, to make or break you, as he wanted, and then put you together one by one as the sun rose up in the sky as you’d drifted to sleep. The next afternoon, you’d woken up feeling like a new person, and decided it was the best night of your life. The man in question was nowhere to be seen, but you didn’t care. The bliss ran too deep.

Sadly, not deep enough. The overthinking kicked in a few hours later, and you cussed yourself for becoming so easy for an undeserving man like Wonwoo. Just because he’d made you cum and given you a good time didn’t mean you’d go against your rational thoughts. In a way, he was no better than your best dildo. Except you liked your dildo. You simply did not like Jeon Wonwoo. The arrogant brat had been the type of man you’d avoided all of your life. You hadn’t seen him work hard in school, and now that he had inherited his father’s company, you didn’t see him work any harder either. Sure, Jeon Estates was doing better than ever, but that was only because the economy was booming and the housing market was doing well. He had done nothing extra. Unlike you, who had built your world yourself. You’d never taken your father’s prosperity as complacency, and strived to make a name for yourself. And now people knew of Y/L/N Corporation as synonymous to both your father’s name and your name.

And you had, like a silly stupid girl, gone and slept with this very man.

And you had liked it.

That was the worst bit. An accidental hookup would have been fine. But no, you wanted to sleep with him every night, if it meant he’d treat you to the same feast you’d blissed out on last night. There was a certain happiness in giving up to him, letting go of the constant worries that burdened you down, and allowing him to take control, but god knows how you ended up trusting him so much in bed.

Anyway, you reconciled with yourself, it’s just a one-time thing. It’s not like it’s going to happen again.

You were wrong. Jeon Wonwoo had picked you up that evening and taken you directly to his house.

“What did you want to talk about that you couldn’t do in your car?”

“The chauffeur was there.”

“It’s not a big deal, Jeon. You can just say that you regret last night, cause honestly, same. Don’t want to dwell on it.” You were in a rush to leave, because you didn’t want to think about the memories in this same house the night ago.

“Are you sure?”

His question had taken you aback, as he watched you with his hawk eyes, licking his lips.

“Y/N, I … couldn’t tell you in my car that I didn’t regret it. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.”

You’re speechless, waiting for him to continue, as he took another step forward.

“Wonwoo, I… you know this is a bad idea.”

“I do,” he chuckles darkly. “You look like a bad idea, as I’ve known for years now. But when I see you wearing that hideous turtleneck to hide the hickeys and that tiny skirt that leaves nothing to the imagination, I keep remembering the way you submitted to me last night. For all your big talk and your attitude, you obey pretty easily, huh?”

You stand up, indignant. “Wonwoo, you can’t use that against me. Listen I know we’re not friends-”

“Be my submissive. I want, no fuck, I need you. You’re perfect.” He’s standing an inch away from you, bending his neck gently to look into your eyes. His mask slips for a second. A million emotions flit through your brain, and you’re deliriously begging for your intelligence to kick in, but there’s something about the subtly layered desperation in Wonwoo’s voice that makes you curious.

“What are your terms?”

You look at Wonwoo across the dining table. He looks as put-together as ever, not a hair out of place, as he converses with the middle aged-men sitting next to him while eating dinner. He quickly notes your glance and looks back, and you turn your eyes away before he catches the blush along your cheeks.

No, there’s nothing wrong with the arrangement. It works perfectly in your favour. As long as nobody knows.

You’re wrapping up a meeting with the board members of the company, when you get a call on your phone. It’s Wonwoo. Excusing yourself from the meeting, you pick up the call while walking back to your office.

“Hello?”

“Are you going to the Paris Conclave?”

The invitation for the event had arrived just that evening, the first time they were inviting your company. It had made you gush with excitement, happy that you’d been able to take your company to this prestigious conclave. Moreover, this would be the first time you’d be visiting Paris, one of the few dream destinations of your life. Due to a packed professional schedule, you had hardly been able to travel for the past few years, and the thought of going to Paris made you naturally happy.

“Yes, of course. Getting fomo? I can get a croissant back home for you.”

“I can get my own. See you there.”

He cuts the call.

What was that? He’s going to the conclave as well? That’s impossible. Jeon Estates had never been invited before this-

“Jisung-ah.” You call for your secretary, who appears at your side quickly. “Has the Jeon Estates been invited to the conclave?”

“Ma’am, I- why, yes. I hadn’t checked the list for their name.” His voice drops as he speaks, mirroring the disappointment rising in you too. So, it wasn’t only you who had been invited for the first time.

Fucking Jeon Wonwoo. Even had to call you to rub it in, the nerve.

“Well, we’ll just have to outshine them there. I’m sure we shall. Please organise a meeting with the team leaders and managers today so that we can get the presentations perfected.”

Your secretary bows to you and leaves you alone in your office.

Paris comes sooner than you had thought, and you’re bursting with excitement. Nervousness too, a little bit. But your confidence isn’t so easy to rattle. You’ve picked out your choicest outfits for the trip, hellbent on making it memorable. You’ve even kept a few days extra in hand to allow you free time to travel the city.

You had asked your sister if she’d wanted to come along, but she had said that her doctor hadn’t deemed it safe for her to travel by airplane now. “I’m so jealous! But there’s nothing to be done.” “Go with your husband and your baby afterwards.” You’d kissed her forehead when bidding the final goodbyes before leaving for Paris.

There was just one little worry worming through your brain. Not even a worry, just an irk. Jeon Wonwoo would also be there. You’d have to compete again for the spotlight. As if the jerk deserved to be there.

“Ma’am, do you want to go through your speech once more?” Jisung asked you from the seat next to you. You smiled, the younger man was definitely nervous by the look on his face. “Why, are you scared I’ll forget? You know I take vitamins every day to strengthen my memory.” “I do, but-” “Don’t worry. Don’t let anxiety deter you from forming the memories of the fun times you’ll be enjoying there!”

Fun.

As if. Jisung knew well enough that you rarely had time for fun, and consequently, neither did he. He saw you overwork yourself every day, staying at the office till late, obsessed with perfection, ensuring no loose ends were visible. Even if you tried your best to send him home when his work time ended, he wanted to stay back out of compassion for you. He was truly the best secretary you could’ve asked for. He was godsent- he’d learnt your habits and your thinking process within days, and soon he produced documents and answers before you asked for them, pre-empting your thoughts. After working with you for three years, he was good enough to be your clone- that’s why you sent him to many events and meetings as your representative if you couldn’t make it. You knew he’d handle it as well as you would, and report all the key details to you at the end of the day.

“Yes, Ma’am. I hope it all passes well. We’ve all worked hard.”

“And hard work always pays off, you know that Jisung-ah. Now, sleep quickly so that we’re not tired due to jet lag once we land there.”

They’ve assigned Wonwoo a seat next to you at the conference table. As if seeing his face here wasn’t bad enough.

“Will you never leave me alone?”

He scoffs, “Me? You’ve been at my tail since you were a kid.”

“Oh shut up. Inside school, outside school, at parties, at funerals, at my graduation, at my sister’s wedding, you’re always fucking there. And now you’re here, to steal the spotlight. Not that you can anyway. Don’t try too hard Jeon, you’ll just look pathetic.”

“It’s funny how vain you are. You think I have any desire to steal your spotlight? Go ahead, be the talk of the party, by all means.”

“And I will! I don’t need your permission for it.”

“Hmm-”

The rest of his words get tuned out as the convenor of the conference begins their speech. You turn your eyes towards them, but you can feel Wonwoo’s eyes burning on you.

“What did you say?” You whisper to him.

“Never mind. Do you want to go out tonight?”

“Go out?” You turn your head towards him, leaning in, incredulous.

“For dinner.”

You almost burst out laughing. “And pray, why would I go with you?”

He scrunches his nose and pushes up his glasses. “You’re going to miss out on seeing the Eiffel Tower?”

“No. In fact, I have plans on going today myself. But you didn’t tell me why I’d-”

“Come with me.” He turns his face away from you, his expression cold and unreadable.

“Hell nah. We don’t know each other, okay? Just because we’re both newcomers here does not mean we have to maintain solidarity or any of that shit.”

“You’ll regret it, sweetie.”

“I regret nothing.”

“We’ll see.”

“Jisung-ah! You were scared for nothing. That presentation was flawless.”

“Yes Ma’am. I know our team always works hard, but the nerves never stop,” the young man looks much fresher after the conference wraps up for the day, his tie undone slightly. You can easily understand how his mood changes reflect in his facial expressions and attitude after the long hours you spend with each other on a daily basis.

“Are you still up for going to the Eiffel Tower tonight? I’m planning on skipping the post-conference dinner. But if you want to stay, I won’t force you to come with me.”

“No Ma’am, I was thinking…” he hesitates, but you raise your eyebrows to urge him to continue. “I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to visit the Eiffel Tower again, so I do want to go with you … but after that I’d like to go to one of the clubs in the nightlife zones? I’ve heard from friends that the Paris nightlife is crazy.”

“Ooh!” You pat him on the back, “Yes please Jisung, finally you’ve started to act your age. Go, be young and wild, I’ll cheer for you!”

“You won’t come along?”

“Oh no. I’m way too old for that. Plus I never was into the club scene. And for real, you should go out and enjoy without me sometimes. People will start thinking I’m your girlfriend.”

Jisung opens his mouth to say something, but ends up just smiling shyly. “Okay Ma’am. Then should we leave for the Eiffel at 7 pm?”

“Yes. Pick me up from my suite then.”

“Yes Ma’am.”

“Sorry Ma’am, the Eiffel Tower has been booked out for the evening. It’s been a really sudden booking, and we’re sorry for the inconvenience, but it’s just been booked out completely by a private party and no external visitors are allowed.”

You’re wearing your best white silk Gucci dress, the one you spent your entire salary on as soon as it was released at last year’s Fashion week, and a stunning Cartier necklace, ready to spend the best evening of your life atop the Eiffel Tower, savouring life at its finest… but no. Some jerk just had to book it for this evening.

You slide up to the lady at the front desk, whose bored expression does nothing to calm your nerves down. Jisung has tried his level best to convince her, but it’s failed. So you try the one thing you know always works.

“Ruth-” you see her name from her name tag pinned on her chest. “I can outbid the private party.”

“I’m sorry Ma’am, I didn’t get you.”

You laugh, a careful measured laugh, to hide your irritation at having to say it again. “I said, I can pay you more than whatever the private party’s booked it at. I just want ten minutes. Isn’t it a win-win situation for all of us? Ten minutes for me, and your private client can enjoy it for the rest of the night.”

Ruth smiles, pitifully. Wretched woman, she’s clearly not affected by your offer. This is what seeing too many rich people in a day does to a person, it immunes them to bribe, you think. Well, it’s her loss.

“I’m sorry Ma’am, but we really cannot accept your offer. It’s against our rules-”

“Let me speak to your manager, Ruth. Trust me, when they hear my name, they’ll let me in,” you smile again, attempting to remain amicable instead of bursting out into the wildest Korean slang.

Ruth smiles again, “You are, currently, speaking to the Manager here, Ma’am. We simply cannot allow any external visitors tonight. Can we book a slot for you tomorrow? If you’d like to visit again, in the morning or later.”

Jisung tries to interject, but he sounds resigned. He seems intimidated by Ruth, and frankly speaking, you get it. He’s just twenty four and spends over thirteen hours in a day with you, so he’s not used to snarky women. Well, apart from you, and you’re never snarky to him.

“Ruth, my dear. I’m Y/N Y/L/N, I’m here at the Paris Conclave.” You say your name solemnly, expecting it to have the same effect it has in Korea, but alas, the woman remains untouched as ever. “I’m dreadfully sorry Ma’am- wait, did you say Y/N Y/L/N?” Your smile becomes wider. Oh so it does have the intended effect. “So you finally will let me in, huh? You do know who I am.”

Suddenly Ruth’s demeanour changes and she’s smiling pleasantly. “Oh Ma’am, the private client has specially informed us to allow you in. Only you.” “I’m sorry, what? Why would they suddenly ask for me-” “Mr. Jeon told us that you would be here. I’m so sorry for the miscommunication, Ms. Y/L/N-”

“Mr. Jeon?!” You’ve got to be fucking kidding me, you bitch. Aloud you say, “Mr. Wonwoo Jeon?” “Yes Ma’am. He’s booked the entire place for the evening. He has been waiting for you too,” Ruth smiles graciously, doing nothing to relieve your confusion. “There has been a mistake. I don’t think he meant me. We’ll leave now-” “Ma’am, I’m sure there’s no confusion now. Mr. Jeon asked us to bring you up as soon as you arrived. We’re sorry to keep you standing here on your date night.” “Date night? This is ridiculous. Wonwoo and I are not-” Jisung whispers into your ears right at moment, noticing your bloodshot wide eyes, “Ma’am, I think there’s no point fighting with them on this,” he says in Korean. “This lady seems adamant, and you shouldn’t miss out on an opportunity to visit the Eiffel Tower when it’s lit up so prettily. Even if it is with Mr. Jeon,” you wince at his suggestion, and he smiles apologetically. He’s right, you realise.

“Okay, but Jisung comes with me.”

“I’m sorry Ma’am.” Oh I’ve had enough of your sorries. “No one except you are to be allowed up.”

“Wow. First you say no external visitors. Now suddenly I’m allowed and Jisung is not-”

“Ms. Y/L/N, these are simply instructions from my client.”

Jisung bites his lip and says, “Well I guess it’s not written in my fate then. Ma’am, don’t miss out on my account. Please enjoy. I’ll just go downtown and waste the night away. I’ll see you tomorrow then? Please make sure to eat dinner!” You’re seconds away from whining and pulling another tantrum, but Jisung whispers fighting to you in his soft indulgent tone that he uses on you whenever you’re being a brat and he needs to take care of you. And then he’s gone, and you have no option but to face Ruth. That bloody woman. “Welcome to the Eiffel Tower, Ma’am. Please accompany me as we take you to the top.”

At the top, Jeon Wonwoo stands with a glass of champagne in his left hand and his mobile phone in his right.

“If you’re going to work on your phone and not enjoy the view, why the fuck did you book this place out?”

You walk towards the man standing in the open air viewing area, and he smiles at you. The annoyingly handsome smile, where his eyes crinkle up, and his perfectly white teeth are revealed in a rare display.

“You came. I knew you’d come.”

“How so?” A server appears from nowhere and offers you champagne too, which you accept. You’ll soon switch to whisky though, to calm your nerves down.

“You’re easily predictable. You act like any other average tourist, although you pretend to be such a princess.”

“Everyone comes to visit Eiffel Tower on their first day in Paris, Wonwoo, there’s nothing weird about this-”

“Exactly. Average. Me? I personally prefer to see it from the window of my hotel, so that I can see it in its glory without experiencing this slight dizziness and bling of the night view.”

“You’re stupid. That’s why you have such stupid preferences. This night view? Priceless.”

“Let me inform you, darling, it cost me a hell lot to book this. So not priceless.”

You laugh, looking at Wonwoo, who’s leaning against the railing facing you, and then back at the gorgeous night view. The Champs Elysees looks glorious with the lights. You can sense Wonwoo leaning in closer. His cologne and perfume mix to create a dark, musky smell that’s new. You’ve never smelled this on him before. “Why did you book it? That’s what I've been asking since forever.”

“I want to fuck you against this railing.”

You choke on the champagne, before catching your breath and turning back to face him.

“What?”

“You heard me the first time.” He maintains eye contact, but in that cold, nonchalant way of his, like he didn’t just propose the most scandalous thing you’ve ever heard.

“Aren’t there cameras?”

“Will pay for them to be turned off.”

“That’s probably illegal.”

“I don’t care. I’ll pay enough. Plus, I’ve already located the blind spots.”

You take a deep breath. As ashamed as you are to admit this, it does turn you on. A lot. If Wonwoo would touch you under your dress, he’d find evidence of the same. Sex like this- in public, definitely the most outrageous thing you’ve done. But Wonwoo suggesting it? The fact that he booked this place out on a probability that you’d come and a hope that you’d agree to it? The more you think about it, the hotter your body feels. You can feel your nipples straining against your dress in the cold air, and your face turning red with imagination.

“If you don’t want it, we can just eat dinner and leave.” Wonwoo’s eyes have become impossibly gentler but also darker, like he’s seconds away from losing his control. His sight betrays his words as he keeps looking at your lips. Thank god I applied the lip plumper tonight, you think. But then his eyes go to your breasts, like the pervert he is, and he smirks at the sight of the two nubs pressing hard against the soft silk.

You shake your head.

“Say it.”

“I want it too.”

“Atta girl,” his smirk widens, before he leans in to capture your lips. It’s a rough kiss, nothing romantic like one would expect atop the Eiffel Tower, but it sets the right mood for the night. You realise that all servers have disappeared, and you’re perfectly alone, as his lips move down towards your neck, leaving beautiful hickeys along the way. “It was torture and heaven waiting for you. Knowing you’d come, but fearing you wouldn’t.” His hands take away your champagne glasses and place them on a table nearby, before bending you backwards on the railing, making your head zoom more with pleasure. What if I fall off? What if someone catches us like this? What if he takes a picture of me like this in front of the view, with my tits out and my lipstick ruined?

“No bra, huh? You’re so sexy in this dress, I want to fuck you in it. You mind that?” You’re panting as he keeps kissing you in between his words, tongue dominating yours right away. It’s like a switch flipped inside you. Just minutes ago, you were so against sharing the Eiffel Tower view with Wonwoo, and now you’re letting him fuck you here. It drives you crazy.

“Wonwoo just- I don’t care, I need you now.” He bites all over your shoulder, slipping down the straps to grope your breasts in the rough-handed manner you like, sure to leave bruises with the way he kneads them while leaving open-mouthed kisses on your collarbone.

“Just because we’re out in the open doesn’t mean you forget your bedroom manners.” He bites down on your nipple, surely missing his favourite clamps back home, and you squirm in his iron grip.

“Sir please!”

“That’s better, sweetheart. But what do you want?”

“C-Co-” he alternates his bites with little kitten licks, looking up at you. “Articulation, baby. Speak up.” “Want your cock, in my m- mouth, Sir!” He pulls away from you, leaving the cold air to tease your bruised nipples, and laughs. Fucking laughs, but it turns you on again. “If you insist.”

He takes off his belt and ties your hands behind your back, and then pushes your shoulder down and you fall to your knees, and he stands back, tall. “Oh, what a pretty sight,” he sighs, taking in the night sky view, and then looks down at you, but makes no move to open his pants. You assume you’ll have to take care of it yourself, so you attempt to open the zipper with your teeth. It’s not particularly difficult, but in the process you get some drool over Wonwoo’s cock over his pants. “Tch. Dirty girl, drooling everywhere,” he wipes away the drool from the edge of your lips, before you slot your mouth against his erection, now free from his underwear and pants which have slid down his legs. It’s not as hard as it gets during sex, but that’s what you’re here for. Nothing but a slut for him to use. Your ankles burn against your heels in this position, but it’s okay. You’re losing your mind as you swallow his sheath inch-by-inch, until you feel his skin against your nose, and you stay like that for a second, easing out your gag reflex. But before you can move, Wonwoo thrusts deep into your throat, eyes not leaving yours. It makes you roll your eyes, the pleasure of the surprise way more than the pain, and makes you crave for more. He slowly wraps his hands around your head, a strong broad support for you to rest in, and continues to ram his dick inside your mouth. Your body becomes limp as you slowly surrender to his actions, your mind blank, except a crazy wanton desire to please him and make him cum. You’re too sex-crazed right now to reason out why only Wonwoo elicits this reaction from you.

But then his dick gets rock hard, and right when its weight becomes the best and warmest around your throat, wet with saliva and pre-cum, he pulls out. You can’t frame words instantly, but you whine. “Ah, Wo- I- pl- co- please…” He laughs cockily at your state, and you blush with shame at the way you’re acting. “Get up,” he walks away from you, leaving you to your own devices to stand up in those heels.

It strikes you yet again, just how open this all is. Anyone can walk in. The security guard may be jerking off watching this on the security cameras, and you won’t lie, it’s hot as fuck. The thought of Wonwoo and your activities being porn for someone else- oh fuck.

Wonwoo sits on a couch meant for visitors on the balcony. “Come baby,” he beckons, and you sit on his lap. His cock is still hard, leaking pre-cum, and you’re tempted to lick it off, but you won’t make a move until he tells you to. You can’t disobey him now- if he spanks you in punishment, you won’t be able to walk to the conference tomorrow.

“Spit on it.” And you do. Wonwoo likes your spit, for some reason, and you wordlessly obey. Then he pulls out something from his pocket, and you realise- “No Sir! Please, not the paddle today!” It’s a folded paddle, the pocket-friendly one you can buy at cheap sex stores. “I need to walk tomorrow, I can’t if you spank me-” “But you’ve been so naughty. Begging for my cock in a public place like the little slut you are. Not accepting my invitation to come up here and making me wait for so long. Turning my offer for dinner down at the conference this morning,” You try to protest, but he simply inserts his thumb into your mouth, and you instinctively start sucking on it. “Now be pretty, and let Sir show you your place.” While you’re still distractedly sucking the thumb, you don’t even realise when he’s lifted the back of your dress and the paddle hits the ass flesh exposed by your thong. “Count.” “One,” you whimper out, not wanting his thumb to slip out of your mouth. The spanks continue, alternating on ass. He can alternate between asses and keep the same pressure just by one hand, the other holding up your dress, his hands big enough to cover your entire ass cheek. The spanks burn more after the moment’s relief due to the cold air, and by the time you reach twenty, your knees have given up, and you’re drooling on Wonwoo’s shoulder.

“Don’t make a mess. Sit up straight.” As you do so, he asks you, putting away the paddle and tucking your hair behind your ears. “Have you learnt how to behave? Or do you need another reminder?” You fervently shake your head, but he whispers in his insanely sexy tone, “Words.” It makes you shiver, and you respond, “Yes Sir. I’ll not misbehave, Sir.” He smirks, and leans back. “Now ride me like you mean your words, darling.”

You don’t need another command. You sit down on his dick quickly, ready to take the burn without any prep, because you’re already leaking down your thighs. He grips your hips with one hand, steadying you, and cards his other hand through your hair. As you begin bouncing down on him, he shudders and releases low grunts, but nothing breaks his composure. He never once whispers Good Girl, as you cum once, but you still keep riding him to ensure he reaches his climax. Somewhere after your orgasm, he starts thrusting up from below to meet your efforts, and it brings him closer to his orgasm as he scrunches his nose and closes his eyes. When he does spurt inside you, he whispers softly enough that you almost miss it, “Fucking gorgeous.”

That’s enough praise for the night, you think to yourself, as you fall limply against his chest, nearly passed out from the strain, his cock still spasming inside of you. He soothes your hair, and you fall asleep.

“Ma’am? Ma’am? Please wake up! We’re running late. Ma’am? Ms. Y/L/N?” You open your eyes blearily to see Jisung shaking you lightly. Slowly you come to your senses, and you can hear his voice louder, and see the desperation in his face clearly.

Fuck.

What have you done?

“How late am I?”

“Not too bad, Ma’am,” Jisung scrunches his nose as he looks at the clock on your bedside table. “We have twenty minutes to go.”

“Fuck!” You scramble out of bed, not even bothering to check if you’re clothed, and make your way to the washroom. There’s a pain growing in your head, and it’s only when you see yourself in the mirror that you realise that you’re wearing a t-shirt and shorts. What even happened last night? The last thing you remember, as you try to recollect while quickly brushing your teeth, washing your hair and hopping into the shower all at the same time, is that you had passed out on Wonwoo’s shoulder. Then the world had gone blank. Fucked into oblivion, truly. He must have brought you into your room. Oh fucking hell, he owed you at least that much.

By the time you wrapped your bathing suit around you and walked back into your bedroom, Jisung was gone, but your outfit and shoes were laid out on the bed and there was a note, I’ll pack some breakfast for you, Ma’am. Please come down directly to the conference hall. Thank god for Jisung, that was one prayer you said everyday. He’d been partying too last night, hadn’t he? And yet, he had responsibly made it on time and woken you up as well. You were getting too irresponsible, too lax. Your discipline was gone and you mentally bashed yourself for it. All because of that stupid Wonwoo.

After that, it doesn’t take much time for you to get dressed. Jisung must’ve noticed the hickeys on your neck, and brought you a jacket with lapels and a collar high enough to hide most of the marks. You quickly tied a scarf around your neck, making it look fashionable by adding colour to the otherwise beige monotone outfit, and praised yourself mentally for looking this good even without makeup. Dabbing on some lip balm in the elevator, you quickly reached the conference hall, finding yourself a minute late. Again, thank god for Jisung, the boy had reserved your seat, made excuses on your behalf and kept a croissant and coffee ready at your seat, so that everyone greeted you with kind smiles.

Except Wonwoo, who had that unreadable expression again.

Must be pathetic, living like him. What worth was a face like that if it couldn’t express anything?

Four days later, you land in Incheon amidst the wildest of storms the country has faced in the year. You won’t admit it, but you’re glad you travelled in your private jet, where you can close all windows down and wrap yourself up in a blanket burrito to drown out all signs of the storm. You wish storms didn’t exist, and you wish no one would have to see you in this weak state. Not Wonwoo for sure.

After that first day in Paris, the two of you had barely interacted. Primarily, you were too ashamed to speak to him. How could you smile and talk normally to someone after getting railed by them on the Eiffel Tower, especially when that same someone was annoying as fuck in reality? Sure, eye contact had been made several times, over dinners, over the conference tables, when you’d been on the stage presenting, and when running into each other in the corridor. But words? You possibly couldn’t. It’d be too much for the fragile self-respect you’d been holding on to.

You really want to avoid him once you’re back in Seoul as well. The workload seems to have tripled in the few days you were away, with endless tiny emergencies and approvals pending to be resolved. You’re again thankful for Jisung, but there’s only so much the poor boy can do. You make it a point to send him home soon after his scheduled timing every day, but you can’t say the same for yourself.

It’s the fifth night of you eating ramen from a cup noodles pack and sipping on apple juice from a 1 litre tetra pack, that you finally give up on the abstention. It’s a hard decision, but somehow, your overworked brain and sleep-deprived body leads you to one craving, and one craving only.

Thirty minutes later, Jeon Wonwoo arrives at your office. He’s been to your office only rarely, as you both prefer to meet up outside professional areas, but in the darkness of the empty office, he can easily recognise your brightly-lit room. He’s dressed in formals too, as if he’s just got off work himself, and you think he may be in the same boat as you. But definitely not as much as you- you’re a perfectionist who looks over everything yourself, Wonwoo doesn’t even come close for sure.

“It’s one of those nights, huh?”

He gently opens the door and walks in. Everything about him seems to be delicate today: perhaps it’s because his shirt is damp from the rain he’s surely walked in, his hair is wet and falling over his eyes, and his tie is gone. His jacket is soon gone too, dropped off on the couch, and he takes off his shoes. They’re leaving slightly muddy footprints, and you wonder if Wonwoo even drove and came or just ran like a peasant.

“How’s work treating you?”

“Stop wolfing down that ramen, it’s not healthy. Not as bad as you, as I see. I finished up hours ago,” his eyes don’t meet yours, and you know it’s a lie. It’s one of the signs of lying, as you’ve picked up over the years. Wonwoo rarely breaks eye contact while speaking, always honest, and his lie is really odd to you right now. Why would he lie to you about this?

“I was wondering, if…” you stand up from your desk, taking in the figure of the man sitting on your couch now, manspreading and head leaning back. He’s tired, why did he lie about getting off early?

“Come here, princess.”

That’s all it takes, and you sit on his lap and wait for his lips to meet yours. He indulges you in your wish, and immediately the tension in your body eases out. Along with the stress of work, you’d been even more worried that he’d bring up your last night together, and you’d get too ashamed to remain turned on. But he doesn’t, and you’re glad. You let your lips be bitten by him, but then he soothes over the burns with his tongue. He tastes like candy, and you tell him the same.

“Hmm, low sugar.”

Then he picks you up and gently walks over to your desk, holding you in the same bridal pose without even a muscle flinching. With one hand, he clears the laptop sitting atop your desk to the coffee table, and swipes the rest of the clutter on the floor. It would’ve made you angry otherwise, but you’re already entering subzone with the way he’s handling you. Lips still locked on yours, holding you in that pose with just one hand as you hold on to his shoulders for dear life, it’s a crazy show of strength and you’re getting incredibly turned on by it. You let yourself go, giving it up to this person, who seems to be so reliable, so strong, so manly.

As he lays you down on the desk, he takes off your trousers and underwear in one go, and sits down on the chair you usually sit on.

“You’re so wet, so dirty. Did you touch yourself after texting me to come over?” Your pussy is at his eye level, and you’re looking down at him, his eyes menacing and beautiful at the same time. His question makes you squirm, as you reply, “Of course not.” Then there’s a slap across your cunt, and you whine. “Manners?” “Of course not, Sir.” “Liar,” he smirks, and dives headfirst into your cunt.

It’s a treat he rarely gives you. Only when he’s very happy with you- like after you’ve taken thirty spanks, or you’ve eaten dinner with him while having a vibrator stuffed up your cunt, or you’ve let him wash you in the shower (for some reason, Wonwoo likes that a lot. He ties you up to these poles he’s attached in his bathroom, and plays with your body by applying as much oil and soap he wants, making sure not to touch your pussy for hours, denying every release to you even as it builds up just from the oversensitivity of having your nipples and ass played with).

You wonder why he’s so happy.

But you can’t care enough, now that his tongue is working so hard against your clit. The sensation makes you lose all rational thought, as you lean back against the desk, mind empty, and just moaning his name. You remember the first few times he’d fucked you with your mouth gagged, but then he’d told you he likes your sounds way too much, so you’d stopped controlling them too. He gets what he wants. After all, only he can fuck you so well.

“Wonwoo, please-” He moves his head up, licking his lips which are glistening with your slick. “How do you address me baby?” “S-sorry! Sir, please I-” “Hmm?” He leans back in, humming against your clit. His tongue now moves to your hole, nose brushing against your clit. “Can I come? Like this? May I? Please?” When he moves away again for breath, he removes his hands from your thighs, and you see the red marks he’s left there just by how tight he was gripping them. It’s a wild sight, and your climax hits you right then, coming before he could answer. “So impatient, coming all over my face even when I’ve told you not to come without my permission.” But even his scolding sounds gentle tonight, softly chiding rather than his usual harsh coldness. In your post-orgasm clarity, you wonder again what’s gotten into him.

He licks away your cum, and it makes you burn with overstimulation. “Uhhhhh, please-please Sir!” “Stay still.” His hands are back at your thighs, spreading them apart, and he seems hellbent on getting another orgasm from you. Your screams are louder this time, and you’re growing even more desperate to get something bigger to fill you up. You wrap your hands in his hair, and tug unconsciously while he keeps licking at your pussy. His entire face is hazy with your slick, thank god he’d taken off his glasses earlier, but he doesn’t care. He keeps diving in.

“Sir, please, I’m going- uhhhh,” he pulls away instantly and smacks your cunt hard. “No coming until I allow you to. Let Sir have his treat.” “Please Sir I’ll be so good, I promise, I- please let me, just this once.” Another smack, and you’re screaming. Thank heavens the office is empty.

“Do you not understand my words? Should I retrain you?”

“No! I’m sorry. I’ll be good, I promise.”

“Hmm, you better be,” and this time he doesn’t just lick your pussy, but also starts entering two fingers alongside his tongue, hitting your g-spot almost instantly. You’re whining yet again, losing your breath, but everytime you’re about to come, he pulls away. You can’t figure out how he realises, but soon two hours pass by, and you’re still being edged. Your legs are shaking, and you can’t think straight. You just want more of his fingers, you want his cock, inside your mouth, your cunt, hell, you just want to orgasm once.

“Girl, stop moving. You’re so filthy, dripping like this. What would your boytoy think if he saw you like this? Should I call him to clean this mess on your desk?” He’s curling his finger inside you, and it’s really hard forming words when you’re seeing stars like this.

“Sir, I-” “What’s his name? Jieun?” “Ji- Jisung. Aaah, please-” “Look at you begging. So pathetic. No wonder your secretary is so pathetic. He really likes you, you know?” Your eyes go wide, trying to register his words. “Why- why are you- how do you–” “Hush. I want to know, is he jerking off to you now? Thinking of how slutty you looked in those grey trousers, how perfect your ass looked? Bet you show off in front of him on purpose.” You’re squirming harder, not wanting to think about Jisung right now. “But- but daddy, I on- only want you!”

He laughs, then he leans in to whisper into your ear, “Daddy? That’s a first. Say it again.”

“Daddy, please! I only want your cock.”

“Really? So demanding, like a wife. But you’re just a slut. You’d do this to Jisung as well, won’t you?” “No! I swear- please. Daddy, just, it’s just you.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes, I swear!” You nod feverishly, the sensation building up inside you again.

“Okay baby girl. Come for me. Come for daddy. Then I’ll take you home and fuck you good. This desk is too small.” You don’t need to be told twice. You gush all over his hands and some of your come ends up on your desk and his pants too, but he only chuckles. Licking off the come on his hands, he smiles. “You taste like sugar, sweetheart.”

The sheets you wake up in smell overwhelmingly like Wonwoo. The man is nowhere to be seen, but the blankets next to you are shuffled and the pillow has a dent, and you remember being caved by his warmth at night when the storm had hit Seoul again and you’d woken up for a second before falling asleep to the steady rise and fall of the chest wrapped around you.

You wake up slowly, adjusting your eyes to the sunlight. This isn’t the first time you’ve been in Wonwoo’s bedroom, but this is the first time you’ve slept over. Usually you leave, no matter how late it is. But it feels good. It feels oddly intimate.

Your legs burn when you walk, but you try to look for your clothes.

Your shirt is ripped again.

You strut out of the room after wearing your panties and bra, which is barely holding on to one hook remaining, and find the man standing in the open kitchen, wearing a tank top and sweatpants. He’s drinking coffee, and a book is in his hands.

“Wonwoo, you’ve torn my clothes again. How am I supposed to go home like this?”

He turns to face you, smiling and fixing his glasses, and standing up. He looks so good in the warmth of the sunlight falling on his golden skin. “You’re up.”

“Do you think I can keep buying new clothes?”

“Yes. Now, calm down. Do you-”

“Wonwoo!”

“For god’s sake, I can’t take your shit this early in the morning. You want to fight, please do. Not now. It’s too early. You just always find something up your ass and have to pick on me for nothing, huh?”

His smile has faded, and the warmth in your body seeps away. About time, though. You don’t want to start feeling safe in Wonwoo’s private space. It’s too intimate- waking up in his bed, seeing him walk around in sweatpants, drinking coffee he’s making for you. It’s too much.

“This has to stop, Wonwoo.”

“Okay, fine! I’ll not rip your shirts. Take my card and buy something-”

“This arrangement has to stop.”

He turns away from the coffee machine for a second, and stares at you. You walk towards him, and he looks even better up close. His tank top shows off his arms, and they look soft yet really firm. You want to touch-

“Why? Have I made you uncomfortable?”

“No, it’s not-”

“Do you want to date someone? You can, you know. I don’t care-”

“Wonwoo-”

“Did I hurt you? Was I too much last night?” he steps closer to you, furrowing his eyebrows in evident confusion, and you suddenly can’t breathe. His expression is very much readable and it only reads as one emotion- concern.

“Wonwoo, please.” You take a step back, hugging yourself with your arms.

“Does it hurt? I am sorry if it does-”

“It’s not your fault. It’s a me thing, I swear.”

His eyes become clouded by even more confusion, and you quietly walk away and sit down on the kitchen counter.

“This is becoming too much for me. I- I got into this arrangement thinking that it would be a good way to vent stress. But it’s toxic now- I can’t think of any other way to deal with stress except this. Don’t you notice how our meetings have become more frequent now, especially initiated from my end? In the last three months, I’ve initiated sex fifteen times, and you’ve only six times. You see? This has become my only solution now.”

Wonwoo doesn’t look at you, but he keeps wincing at your words as if he’s being hit physically. Then he responds, when you’re done, “That does sound like a you problem, like why-”

You slide off the counter with a huff, muttering Fucking jerk under your breath, but he catches your wrist before you can walk further away.

“Don’t touch me if you’re going to react like that. I fucking knew it, why did I even talk to you? I can just walk away, I didn’t even need to expose my weaknesses to you.”

He yanks you closer using your wrist. “This isn’t a war, Y/N. I don’t get off on knowing about your weaknesses, for fuck’s sake. Can you stop being paranoid?”

You sigh. You know you’re always paranoid around him- funny, because he’s seen you in more compromising positions than anyone else. If he wanted to blackmail you, or hurt you, by hitting your weaknesses, he would, you realise. Is that why you’ve learnt to feel so safe around him?

“I’m sorry I reacted like that, Y/N. Talk to me, let’s work this out together. Let’s set up a system to slow our meetings down if you like?”

You bite your lip, and look up at him. “How?”

“Umm, how about you start to find other sources for it? Like hanging out with friends? Developing hobbies?”

You huff again, twisting your hand out of his grip. “Wonwoo, if I had other sources, would I not use them?”

“Darl-”

“Don’t call me that! We’re not having sex right now.”

“Y/N. Take your time to find other sources, then. If I’m your only means of relieving stress, it is extremely toxic. You’ll become dependent on me, and-” his pupils shake, looking away from you, “you’ll find it tough to date and all. Been there. Done that. That’s why I can tell you this.”

You’re about to reply something, when your phone rings out in a shrill tone. Surprisingly, Wonwoo’s phone rings out at the same time too.

You jog into the bedroom to find your phone and pick it up. It’s your sister.

“Y/N-ie! You’re not at home?”

“No. Why? Are you coming over?”

“No, I just made Kyungmin drive us to your place to see your place is empty. Where are you?”

“Never mind where I am. Why did you come over?”

“Mum and Dad want us to have lunch with the Jeons,” you can hear her giggle. But you’re stunned. “With the Jeons? Now? Today? For what joy? Are we buying their company?” She giggles again, leaving you more frustrated. “You’ll find out. I’ll send you an address then, come over directly!” And she promptly ends the call, leaving you blank and confused. Your phone pings- there’s the address of a restaurant, and a message asking you to be there within an hour. You realise only now how late you’ve woken up, and you’re glad it’s a Sunday.

“Why am I eating lunch with your parents?” Wonwoo walks into the bedroom, that confused look on his face again. “I could literally ask you the same damn thing. What’s going on?” “Does it look like I’ve got a single clue, babe?” He smirks at your cluelessness, and walks into his ensuite bathroom, leaving you speechless. Did he just call me babe? You wonder, but then your mind flits back to the issue at hand.

“Wonwoo!” You scream at him from outside the bathroom. You’re sure he can hear you, so you don’t wait for a reply. “Yah! What am I supposed to wear? You’ve torn my clothes, you fucker!” Your stress levels are rising again. You’re going to have to go back home to wear something appropriate. You realise that you haven’t even brought your car. You’ll have to ask Wonwoo to drive you back. But fuck, what if your sister is still at your place? Then she’ll see you both coming together, and undoubtedly she’ll prod and poke you. Then you won’t be able to have the upper hand at lunch when Wonwoo signs his company over to you. But there’s no other option as well. Well, there is- you can always stop at a boutique or a shop to buy something and wear it on the go. But that’d mean you’d have to go out in this hideously ripped blouse of yours. Oh!

“Wonwoo! You dumbass! I hate you! What have you done now? Why are we going for this lunch? For god’s sake.”

“Stop screaming, woman.” The door suddenly opens, and a half-naked Wonwoo steps out, engulfed in the steam from what was definitely a very hot shower. You have to stop yourself from moaning out at the sight. It reminds you of the three times you’ve showered together, and you can’t help but think back to the vivid memories of those sessions.

“How can I stop screaming? I don’t even know what’s going on. You knew about this, didn’t you? Why are you so calm?” Wonwoo takes another step towards you, and he runs his hands along your arms. You shiver under his touch, realising you’re still wearing just your underwear. “Calm down. This isn’t a big deal, you’ve dealt with more serious issues. It’s just lunch.” “But it’s lunch with your family. I don’t even know why.” He presses a hand along your cheek, and you’re feeling even more conscious and nervous. Why? This is really unusual, because Wonwoo is right. You’ve been in worse emergencies. Why is this getting on your nerves? Probably because your periods are due this week. These are just your hormones.

“Just enjoy the food. You’re anyway good at ignoring me in public places, and you can do the same to my family too.”

You bite your lip, and shake your head. “I need fresh clothes.”

“Yeah okay. Get into the shower and clean yourself up. I’ll ask my secretary to send something over.” “What? How-” “I think she’s the same dimensions as you.” “Oh.” You step away from him, swallowing whatever words you had to say. “I’ll go into the shower then.”

Thirty-five minutes and a very nice warm shower later, you’re standing in the bedroom and there’s a very pretty black dress on the bed. There’s also a new pair of lingerie next to it, complete with red roses sewn into black lace. Wow, that’s what Wonwoo asked his secretary to buy, huh. He definitely knows her dimensions very well. And the clothes fit, almost perfectly as if tailor-made. The dress is of unknown brand but the feel of the satin on your skin feels nice enough for you to forget about its origin.

“Done?” Wonwoo steps into the room. “Jeez, can you knock? Scared me.” You’re applying Wonwoo’s sunscreen (frankly shocked to see him owning it, but then, his skin is pretty nice). You’ve also applied the same perfume as his, and combed your hair in a million different ways, to make up for the lack of make-up or your usual products.

“Knock when I’ve seen you naked in this very room a hundred times? No thanks. Let’s go, we’re late.”

“Hmm,” you slip your feet into your shoes and pick up your bag. “I’m ready.” So is Wonwoo, you notice, who’s dressed in a grey sweater and jeans. The softness of his clothes contrast the sharpness of his features, and it… looks nice.

It takes you two twenty minutes to reach the restaurant, the ride passed in silence as you catch up on work mails from your phone.

“I’ll go first, and you come ten minutes later, okay?” “Yeah. And Y/N, don’t tell them you were with me, okay?” “Of course not. I’m not a dumb nut like you.” And you shut the door of the car with unnecessary force as you walk out of the car. You swear you can hear Wonwoo curse behind you, but you give no fucks.

“Oh! Y/N-ie! Welcome!” You walk straight into the arms of your mother, who’s dressed in a gaudy dress that does not suit her figure. “Eomma! How many times have I asked you not to wear these dresses?” “Oh shush! I bought this last weekend. Don’t tell me it looks bad, I’m in a good mood now.” You grimace and walk towards the table where your sister, her husband, and your father are waiting for you, smiling from ear to ear. Mr and Mrs Jeon, and Wonwoo’s younger brother are sitting on the other side of the table, also smiling from ear to ear. The excessive smiles are disturbing you, you’ve positively never seen Mrs. Jeon smile that wide.

“Oh, you look so good! Did you lose weight, Y/N-ie?” Mrs Jeon beckons you to sit next to her, and she takes your hand in hers. You force a smile on your face, still clueless about what’s going on. You can only hope they start talking about it when Wonwoo comes.

Speaking of the devil, he does come way earlier than you asked him too. You’re suddenly nervous, as the families start smiling again. “Aigoo, our handsome boy is here. Sit here, sit here.” Your sister welcomes him and he sits wedged between her and his mother.

“Eomma, what’s going on?” he asks.

“Aah, straight to the point. Forget about that, tell us, did you both come together?” You spill out the drink from your mouth, almost choking. “Us? Together? Hahaha. No, of course not! Why would you think that Mrs Jeon? Hahaha.” “Hmm…” your sister exchanges looks with your mother and Mrs Jeon, before finally giving you that stupidly bright smile again. “Is there something you both want to tell us? We’ll give you a chance before-” Wonwoo interrupts, “Appa, what’s this nonsense? Just tell us without this suspense.”

Mr Jeon, who’d quietly been busy on his phone for so long, looks up and stares a little blankly. His wife nudges him, and then he seems to remember. “Oh, so, Wonwoo. You know you both can tell us what you want.” Your father pipes in, “Yes, same goes for you, Y/N.” Wonwoo and you exchange confused looks before you speak up, “Okay, but really. What’s this suspense for?”

“We know you’re dating.” Your sister blurts out, and there’s a sudden silence at the table.

You think your eyes may burst out from the shock, and the way in which your palms instantly become sweaty is a dead giveaway of your nervousness. “What?! Unnie, are you out of your mind? What the fuck?”

“Language, Y/n-ah.” Your mother says, “You think we don’t know what you both are doing, huh?” And then she giggles. The damn audacity.

“I think there’s some grave misunderstanding, Mrs Y/L/N. Y/N and I are… certainly, not dating.” Wonwoo’s mother grasps his hand across the table, and says, “Oh my son. My dutiful son. You don’t have to pretend about this. Just because Jeon Estates is rivals with Y/N’s company, doesn’t mean you both have to be secretive about dating!” There’s a little cough from both fathers, and Kyungmin and Wonbin, Wonwoo’s brother, burst out laughing.

“Eomma, we’re not hiding anything. It’s a fact, we aren’t-”

“Explain these then. Booking out Eiffel Tower for a dinner date, huh?”

“Eomma, how do you know? Are you spying on me?”

“No! Of course not! We just looked at your credit card bill, accidentally. Then I spoke to Bora, your secretary, and she confirmed that you’d been spending a lot of time with Y/N. Not only that, there’s more-”

“Yes, indeed. Y/N-ie, why didn’t you ever tell us?”

You gasp, feeling lightheaded. “Did Jisung…? That trai-”

“Not Jisung. Jisung wouldn’t open his mouth. So I spoke to your chauffeur. He tells me he regularly picks you up from Wonwoo’s place?”

That’s it. This is it. It doesn’t get worse than this. This is your end. Oh, earth, swallow me up.

“Darling,” Mrs Jeon rubs your back, “Please don’t feel so shy. We know that our husbands haven’t left a great friendship for you two heirs. But you need not worry about all this rivalry.”

Your sister joins, “Yes. I’ve convinced Appa, and our lovely Aunt Jiwoo has convinced Mr Jeon too. Oh you both are so silly, hiding a precious thing like this from us.”

Wonwoo and you glare at each other. You realise there’s no point in explaining things to these people sitting in front of you. If they’ve reached the point where your sister is calling Wonwoo’s mother as aunt, then they must have discussed this extensively before calling you two to this lunch. An ambush, that’s what this is, you think in despair.

“So what we’re saying is, instead of keeping it hidden like this, why don’t the two of you get married? Wonwoo-ah? You’re turning thirty next year, aren’t you? I want to see my grandchildren too,” Mrs Jeon says, and everything falls in place. This is blackmail. Your mother’s been asking you to get married ever since you took over the company, claiming that having a man at your side would help your life be perfect and free of any troubles, and even forcing you on some arranged dates. Wonwoo must be going through the same kind of thing, with him being three years older to you also. It fixes the nail in the coffin, and you stand up from your seat.

“That’s not happening. Mrs Jeon, Mr Jeon, Wonbin-ah, I’m sorry if this disappoints you, and the same goes for my family too. Wonwoo and I are grown adults. What we do is none of your business.”

“But if you are dating, what’s the issue with getting married? And from what I hear, it’s not even a recent fling. All this has been going on for a year now!” Your mother cries out loudly. Although you’re sitting in a secluded corner, the restaurant isn’t quite empty.

“We’re not… dating. That’s what we’ve been trying to tell you all along.”

“Well, then are you guys enemies having movie sleepovers?” your sister adds, and it’s too annoying. “And why did you come over in Wonwoo’s car?” How the fuck? But then you realise, nothing is beyond these women. They may be keeping tabs on your and his car GPS for all you know.

Wonwoo stands up, looming over your figure. “That’s quite enough. Like Y/N said, what we do is not your business. Thank you for your concern, and enjoy your meal. Eomma, since you’ve taken access to my credit card already, might as well use it to treat yourselves with this meal.” He steps out of the chair, and walks over to where you’re standing. He swiftly grabs your wrist, and pulls you away, “Let’s go. This is a waste of time.” And just like that, the two of you walk away.

Six days later, a wedding invite stands ready in front of you, held out in Jisung’s pale hands. “Does it look good, Ma’am? I’ll send it for printing then.”

You sigh, and nod your yes.

part 2 is now out!

1K notes · View notes

moonieandi · 10 months ago

Text

snapshots pt. 8 | stanley pines x f!reader

summary: you and stanley go fishing

warnings (TW): swearing, panic attack/panic-inducing scenarios, slight gore/violence

tags: mutual-pining, fluff, angst, action, affection

notes: idk anything about ice fishing so pls don’t get my ass for this okay, this was v different to write than my usual long drawn out heart gutting character analyses that I love (not that that is NOT here) but all the movement was deffff hard so it took me a minute but hey this is what I wanted imma do it ya know

Also i configured this chapter in like three separate ways in my head and it was so hard to chose? But i think the one i did end up writing is most true to their dynamic so far. To be of note for the v stubble reference im giving here but yall know The Kiss by painter Gustav Klimt? Ya… that…. Thats here (spot it if you can) as always thank you for the kind messages and notes and comments, love yall <3 also comment below if you'd like to be on a tag list I should maybe organize that hehe

word count: 6.5k

| masterlist | ix |

January, 1987

She had found them both nice fold-out chairs at the flea market just that last season, along with fishing poles the nice old man insisted went with the seats also. Talked her ear off about how he used to go ice fishing with his son, before said son went off to college.

Now he wouldn’t be home during the ice fishing season, so he saw no use for his chairs or his poles. But she did.

Stan would tell her flippantly about his youth from time to time, usually if not always said stories incorporated Stanford in one way or another. It seemed that the two barely, if ever, separated during their youth. Something that upset her more, that her friend had never spoken of his brother to her in the six years they had known each other. She didn’t think he would speak of it all as fondly, these memories, considering he never confided in her about Stanley, to begin with.

Stan would speak of the shoreline in New Jersey, of the sharp sand beneath his feet and hidden caves along the coast they both would trek through. Talk of the setting sun, of racing his brother home in the dark down paved streets back to their shared room.

He spoke most fondly of a boat though, one that had taken both twins years to configure.

She figured the fishing poles could be some sort of link, at least in her mind.

That and they spent some of their summers down by the dock at the local lake anyway. Splashing in windy tides off the dock and watching boats go by until sunset was a great way to cool off. That or revisiting the pool, where Stan would insist upon ice cream for the short drive home.

She figured he would wait for the season opener to go fishing. Considering she gave him the poles and chairs in December, a quick wave to Christmas, a holiday he laughed off on the regular. He would routinely celebrate it with her, just for the holiday cookies and cheesy movies he wouldn’t admit he loved. But he was Jewish, after all. At least raised in a Jewish household, he told her flippantly, after opening his gift this last December. Laughing at her blushing face, and flabbergasted stuttering, asking him why he would bother with all this. She sat straight when he said it was for her. Because she wanted to, so he would. Not that he was a religious man, anyway.

He found it amusing this holiday season then, to find her struggling to make some traditional dishes his mother would make each year come December for the holidays. Nothing he necessarily missed, but something he found endearing nonetheless. Her usual attention to detail, and odd need to ensure his comfort.

The fishing poles were a welcomed gift though, and he lit up at them and the differing tackles the nice man at the flea market had also gifted her. Hugged her into his side, while he ranted and raved about being able to fish off the docks come summer.

But he didn’t want to wait.

Something she thought rather glumly in the very early morning that January weekday. The sun not even having made its appearance, she had stumbled out of her bed around 4 a.m., having promised to reluctantly go ice fishing with said enthusiastic man. They stood before the porch door now, while he knelt in front of her, lacing up tall winter boots and pulling over her snow pants. Tucking her in, layer upon layer. Putting to use some winter clothes they both had rangled out of donation bins that very first cold season. The snow pants and boots had only ever really been used when they would trek through the outskirts of the woods, searching for clues to Stanford’s other journals.

She was still half asleep on her feet, falling forward into Stan’s bent shoulder in front of her to groan. For some reason, he was wide awake, and grinning like a fool despite it being 4 a.m. That dumb look on his face reminded her why she even crawled out of her cacoon of blankets. He was beyond happy to be able to go fishing. Something he couldn’t even wait for a warmer season to do.

He seemed a smidge like his younger self when he was closest to water. Some of his favorite memories are those ones with Stanford by his side and sand intertwined in his hair. His skin dark in the sun and his toes were deep in the tide of the sand.

It seemed more distant now, as distant as Ford was to him now. He wanted to ground himself here too, and some of his new favorite memories are of them hanging at the end of the dock. His feet in the cold water of the lake, and her nudging his shoulder. Teasing him, edging him off the docks’ wood and into the cold water with her. He preferred the summer to the snowy winters, but he figured they could make some new memories by the water now also. Even if they were colder ones.

So he more or less begged her to join him. Promising that he would handle the fish after she made a disgusted face at the thought of stripping the fish of their skin and bones for the meal they would make of the catch. She agreed though, happy to tag along if it pleased him.

He stood from his knelt position in front of her, standing to reach behind him to grab his red coat from the coat rack. Turning back to her to fold her arms into the coat also, her eyes still blurry as she smiled at him slightly giddy.

He had a gift for her that last December also. A coat folded into shitty wrapping newspaper he had thought to repurpose. She smiled at the blue coat but quickly became confused when she pulled it out of the wrapping to find it was far too big for her own physique to be for her. He had quickly pulled out another present for her, presenting her with another newspaper-wrapped gift. Which she tore open with haste, and rocked up quickly to her feet to dance around their small living room, his old red coat in her arms.

It was hers now, and she reveled in the shitty coat. His smell still lingered in the seam line, and when she leaned her head far back into the hood she could pick up on his shampoo. It kept her warm, despite also not fitting her physique.

He had woken up earlier than her that morning, putting the appropriate supplies for ice picking into the trunk next to their foldable chairs, the tackles, and the fishing hooks. So they made their way out into the dark, ducking into the car next to each other to make for the lake in the early morning.

She hummed along to the radio as per usual, random songs interspersed in between the local morning forecast. She stopped though now, picking her head up from the back of the seat to look over at Stan.

“We missed the entrance to the dock.”

“Nah there's another one we can go to. Farther down, less people.”

She hummed, smiling over at him. What he actually meant was there would be no lake office to report to. So no need to register them for the lake that day, and no stupid state fee to pay for fishing on the lake. Amused at his shortcuts, she turns back to watch the pine trees pass out the car window.

It was a sharp, nose-burning 10 degrees Fahrenheit that day, according to the radio forecast. Only made worse somehow with the creeping darkness from the horizon line. The sun slinked slowly in the coldness of January.

He made his way out first, the car’s cabin light flashing on as he grinned over at her. Securing his blue coat closed quickly before getting out to stomp a path in the fresh snow around the car. Pulling around the sides to pull open her door, before chugging around to the trunk to unload the supplies he claimed they needed.

She knew how to fish, but had never ventured into ice fishing. Mainly because the cold was beyond unappealing to her. But the thermos Stan had presented to her before making out the door that morning heated her hands enough to dismiss the onslaught of negativity thrumming through her. And partially woke her up on the drive over. Stepping out into the crunchy cold snow to help Stan gather supplies.

He shuffled her chair into her hands, slugging everything else into his own broad arms. He could reasonably carry everything, stomping forward in the snow to make a path for her to follow in.

They had made a spot on the ice, the snowy shoreline a good bit away. Stan claiming the best spots must be farther out. Because the farther out, the bigger the fish. She sat, glancing around the empty ice. When Stan meant fewer people he meant no people. A frozen dock far off near the shoreline also, its wooden structure covered in ice. She watched him now, the fishing poles cradled in her lap, and the thermos warm in her hands. He’s bent in front of her, his mittened hands working an ice auger to break a solid hole through the thick layer of ice.

Grunting, he stands back up, hands on his hips admiring his work.

“Is the ice too thin here?” She observes.

He tilts his head left, turning to her now. “No, doll. Perfectly fine right here. We’ll only be here until a little after sunrise anyway.”

He sits in his own foldable chair that she had set up for him while he was finagling with the ice. Their chairs positioned side by side, a little distance between them and the whole he had just made. He reaches between them, opening up the tackle box to shuffle around drawers, looking for something in its depth.

“Close your eyes, hun.”

She rolls her eyes, closing them, while shuffling the thermos between her thighs to hold out her hands in wait. He places something in her mittened hands, it’s slightly heavy in them now.

“Open ‘em.”

She opens them to see an odd black contraption in her hands. Two knobs, a dark screen, and a long antenna on what she presumes is a battery-powered electronic. Almost too dark to make out what it was, but it hit her and she gasped.

“Ta-Da!”

“A radio!” She sings, clutching it closer to her chest and swinging in her seat to knock her knees with his. Clawing at his shoulder to fold herself into his neck and coat’s furry trim. She wouldn’t question where he got it, just revel that he had thought to, for her.

“I know you weren’t too eager to go fishing with me, doll. But I figured this could make up for some of it.” He chuckled, readjusting his hat on his head after they pulled away. Knee’s still knocking between them.

“I’d do anything with you Stan.” She hums, unthinking, as she looks down at the device in her hands. Tweaking around the knobs and the antenna to turn it on. She misses his flush next to her.

She gets it working quickly, the music faintly staticy in the background of Stan attempting to put lures at the end of their poles.

He gets her’s ready first, leaning forward in his seat to situate the pole in her hands. Pointing out the slack line and the type of lure he put on the end of her pole. She’s too distracted, like she always is when he’s probably explaining something vaguely important.

The music hums between them, perched on the tackle box he had closed. His cheeks flushed from the cold, his hat slumping down the back of his head, hair peeking out around the rim and sticking to his forehead. He leans in closer, his knee and thigh along her own. His own covered hand reaching for hers, folding it around the pole for her to hold.

They enjoy each other's company until the sun peaks up along the horizon, a good hour in. As they pass the coffee-filled thermos back and forth, she hums to the radio. Enjoying stories Stan told about tourists from the end of the last season. Telling her about their ridiculous questions he had to work around last minute.

“Then he asked me if they were extinct!”

“What you tell him?”

“Well he couldn’t have been more than eight years old, and he got all teary-eyed when he asked me.” Stan waves his hand around, drumming up the memory of when a child had asked him if the fake displayed plady-beaver was the last of its kind.

“Annnnddd?” She hums, sipping on the last of their shared beverage.

“And I may or may not have said they were not.” He shrugs. “Was easy to convince the kid’s dad to buy him a plushy.”

She laughs, thinking about the stupid merchandise she’s still not used to, that she sometimes restocked in the front of the house. But of course, Stan didn’t have the heart to really crush the kid’s spirit. Sad kids equaled less money probably, in his mind. That and he had a weird affinity of being about to communicate with them like no other.

There’s a tug on her line suddenly, not the first in the hour they’d been at their spot, but the first real strong one she’s ever felt. Jerking her pole, bending it forward. Both her hands met the pole, yanked straight in her seat suddenly.

“Woah!” He says, sitting forward and reaching for her pole also. His hands encased hers around the pole. “Hold it tight, hun.” Grunting in her ear.

But the pulling got worse, had them both standing from their chairs. His arms around hers, helping her reel back the pole, pulling it back towards his left shoulder. His arms encasing her, pulling her flush with his front.

“I gotcha.” He grunts again, close to her ear.

“Do you?” Gasping at the strength of the pull along the pole.

It seems to drag them closer and closer to the ice hole he had put in the ground not even an hour ago. His feet planted firm, yet scrapping against the ice. Hers fumbling, dipping under the strength of being pulled forward. Her hands tight, beginning to sweat and ache in the casing of her mittens. A heat around the ring of her hat. He’s hot behind her, warmth seeping out from his coat and onto her back. He feels firm, and yet they both continue a slow crawl forward.

Until it tugs. It tugs so hard that she instinctually releases her grip. Her hands were still steady against the pole though, still beneath Stan’s own hands.

The jerk has them both flung forward, his feet no longer steady, flipping against the ice. She’s still between his arms when they fall forward, inching towards the hole. He turns them somehow, taking the brunt of it on his right shoulder.

Her head swims, having met the ground rather suddenly. But she’s between his arms, her hands having let go of the fishing pole. He’d let them slip from the pole, his arms tight around her, trying to take the force of the impact.

“Stan.” She mutters, mushy between them. Her head pounded for a minute, as they continued to slide against the ice. His chin propped on her head, warm around her still.

He doesn’t respond, because he’s given no time to. Another harsh tug on the pole sent him forward quickly towards the hole. He thinks fast though, bending his arms, hooking his feet along her legs, and pulling her out of his grasp.

She slides along the ice and snow, his push along her legs and waist burned. She turned, pushing herself up on her hands. Grasping at the snow to get some balance. She had run into the chairs and tackle box. All their supplies scattered along the ice. The radio was static behind her.

It had all happened so fast, her voice cracking in the cold air. Calling his name but not finding him. One moment he was there, the next gone. The water still.

They had been pulled forward so suddenly, a quick five-second span between the tug and her head meeting the ice. And he was gone as soon as she had lifted herself again, the ice cracking along the sides of the former small hole.

“Stanley!” Scrapping, crawling towards the hole. The surface wet and slick from the cold lake water that had seeped through the cracks along the hole now. Stan’s visage far from view, the top of the water dark.

She stares in what feels like forever but is only quantifiable in the movements of the sun. It’s rising now, around her. Sparkling on the ice and water around her. Something she’d marvel at, have her grasping at Stan’s shoulder. Nudging him to see as she does.

She thinks only briefly before shucking off her hat and gloves, beginning to unlace her boots. She’d follow him, into the dark depths.

A deep continuous thump. Running along the ice. First near her feet, then farther and farther from her. It has her racing towards it, the vibrations along the ice guiding her along. It must be him, must be that something that pulled him into the dark murky water. The rhythmic thudding has her racing back to the supplies. Fumbling for the axe Stan had packed to help pick out the ice in the hole.

Running full force back, the ice cracking beneath her legs. Shoelaces dancing around her feet, her fingers nippy and uncovered around the wooden handle of the axe.

It cracks, sickenly loud and sudden. Water bursts beneath her shoes, seeping up and around her. The ground opens up in front of her, splitting along the horizon line. A flash of blue precariously balanced in the large maw of a blurred creature.

It shakes the ice, splintering and fracturing it below her feet. The weight of the creature resting the front of its body along the ice. Shaking the striking blue figure in its jaw, trying to subdue it.

She stands still in the ankle-deep water, trying to make out the blurry figure in the maw of the anomaly. It strikes her then that it could be nothing else but Stanley, confirmed by the sputtering grunts the figure heaves, coughing up cold water from his lungs.

She stands frozen only until then, stepping forward into the slowly sinking ice bath. Ax swung behind her shoulder, ready to slice along the neck of the beast in hopes it would release her husband.

He clamors in the cage of teeth above. Raised his large hand into a well-practiced fist, blindly throwing said fist to meet the eye of the beast.

The hit startles the beast, cracking open its jaw to release Stan, a sudden sharp screech creeping up its large neck through its throat. Rattling her bones as she leaps forward in the ice and water, bringing the ax into the meat of the beast's neck.

It crawls back further, slinking back into the dark cold waters. She stumbles back through the ice and the water until she feels snow beneath her unlaced boots again, the ax gone from her grasp and embedded in the skin of the anomaly. The beast is there and gone in a flash, scrambling back beneath the water.

Stan has the air knocked out of him, having landed on his back. His head cracked against the ice and water below, the cold creeping in through his clothes. He opens his mouth to groan but finds only his shallow breath and the puff of heated air leaves his mouth. The sun creeping above the horizon now, something he can only gauge by the heat on his face. The rest of him rock solid and shivering under the weight of his wet clothes.

A sudden eclipse above his head, the sun, and shadows shaded by a beautiful face. Her face shadowed by the sun, her hat gone and her hair spilling all around her head like a halo. Her cheeks flush from the cold, from the adrenaline. It could be the cold or the way the light looks around her head, but he swore she must have been an angel.

He’s muttering when she finally reaches him, stumbling through the cracked ice and wet water. Her only thought was getting to him. He was beyond sense when she did make it to him, clutching at his tattered and soaked blue coat. He was soaked, drenched to the bone. His hat gone and his hair icy along his head, his gloves gone also, a boot missing from his left foot. And he’s drenched. It all stuck to his body, freezing quickly in the icy temperature. She had to get him home, get him out of these clothes, and heat him up.

She runs her hands along his coat first, checking for punctures, for blood. He had been dragged several yards under the water in the toothy jaw of said beast. But no punctures and no blood made themselves apparent through his coat. Something she’ll have to access later.

A thump along the ice has her whipping her head around. The vibration rippling along the ice and the shards of the broken lake surface. The beast lingered in the area, waiting for them to be off guard again.

She wastes no time, lifting Stan’s large arm up and above her shoulder. Leveraging his body up to be leaned against her side and her back. All those stories about mothers and daughters and adrenaline ring in her head, a truth to the stories of women and abnormal strength in times of strife. She would ache tomorrow, and be glad of it anyways.

He unconsciously shuffles his feet, and she makes note that he’s somewhat conscious. The ice helps her slip them both along the good hundred yards she has until they reach the shoreline. Their supplies the least of her worries, and the anxious thought of the beast meeting her back out there in the wreckage of it all. She does not turn back to look when abandoning it all.

It’s harder folding his stiff body into the passenger seat. His legs flopped into the car last. She curses, reaching over him to buckle him in and then making for the driver's side. She rarely drove them, it was more of a special occasion between the two of them. She had only ever driven once in the winter and had been deeply scared of the slipping ice and heavy snowfall. But the sky was clear and she’d put the thought of ice away for a long while.

She curses again, reaching over to Stan to feel up the inside of his coat pockets for the keys. He stirs at the movement, shrugging off her touch, shivering in his seat.

“Not Doc’.” He mutters, his head spinning.

“What?”

“You’re not Doc’.” He grunts again, his lips loose. His head hurts like a motherfucker.

“I am!” She hisses, hands pushing his away, reaching for his pockets again, looking for the keys.

“Oh.” He looks back, eyes blurry under the odd pressure along the back of his head. This person sounded like his wife, he’d admit. Shifting his head to lean against the back of the long bench, making out the flush on her face and the halo of hair around her head. He thought this was his angel? He guessed it was the same thing in his mind, anyway.

She’s still ruffling through his soaked half-frozen jacket. “Hi, angel.” He says, smiling down at her frusstrated face. Why was she so frazzled?

He’s grinning like an idiot, and he just acted like he didn’t know who she was. Like she wasn’t her. Calling her angel? He’d only ever done that in her dream. That achingly sick dream she had of them, of them in this very car. Of his weight above her, of his breath along the crook of her neck. Of his kiss.

She shakes it off. Finally finding the keys folded into a very frozen and flat pocket along his chest. Turning back to the wheel, starting the car up, and peeling out of the parkway backward. Leaving the same way they had come in.

She races home, glancing over at Stan stiff in the passenger seat. His eyes hadn’t left her figure but seemed distant. His thoughts far beyond him, and his coat and pants were frozen against him. His hair melts off his head in the car, still wet but no longer frozen to his scalp. Messy wet hair tucked around his big ears.

She parks and throws open doors as quickly as she physically can. Slipping in the snow, tripping over her loose boots. Fingers frigid when she reaches for him to move him out of the passenger side.

She knows the signs of hypothermia. Knows the dangers of prolonged exposure to cold, and dropping body temperature. Doing math in her head, hoping he had been exposed short enough for her to physically raise his temperature before his heart began to slow. Before blood began to sludge its way through his veins.

He looks as blue as his coat, his arm slugged back over her shoulder as she attempts to get him up the stairs. The slurred speech, the confusion, the dulled skin. It made her heart race, taking steps two at a time to drag him to the upstairs restroom. To the bath.

She sets him against the open door, running and slipping along the tile, turning on the bath to its warmest temperature. The water would be scalding against his cold skin, would sting and tingle in contrast to his wet clothes, but it was the only way she thought to raise his temperature.

She rushes back to him, kneeling in front of him, grabbing at his coat and pants to pull the wet clothes from him. He’s smiling again, giggling at her attempt to uncloth him.

“Could have asked hun.” He jokes, but she cries. He’s so out of it, so gone from this reality and it shakes her bones. He’s here and not all at once.

He thinks he sees her clearer here in the yellow bathroom light, hot fog swelling around them from the facet. She has her hands all over him, eager to get him out of wet clothes that stick hard against his body. Didn’t she know? That all she had to do was ask and he would shed any layer to get closer to her? He giggles again, leaning into her hot hands against his cold blue body.

She manages to get everything but his boxers and socks off him, a flush to her face. Not for lacking of trying though, but Stan would laugh and shake her hand away. Muttering under his breath between them when she would reach for the waistband of his usual blue loose boxers. So she luggs his wingspan along her back again, leveraging him up to move him to the scalding water. Heat bubbling up in clouds around the water. Bruises along his chest have begun to form from the pressure and weight of the beast's teeth and jaw. They’d turn purple and swell soon, a good sign she sighed. A swell meant blood was flowing fast still.

He hisses, his head rocking back along the edge of the clawed tub when he finally is able to sit in the water. It’s hot, too hot. It hurts to breathe in the heat, and he attempts to lift his lungs above the water to gain air again. The muggy water hurts his skin and burns him. But her hand meets his chest, pushing him back into the scalding water.

“Stay.” She commands, eyes wavering when she looks at him now. Melted into the porcelain of the tub. He’s still shivering. He doesn’t even register it but his body has been shaking, vibrating, this entire time. Moving his muscles in an attempt to warm him up.

She reaches to turn the hot water back on, cursing, beating her hand along the rim of the tub when the water comes out cold. It’s all gone. She looks down at him again, her hand moving along his chest, trying to generate heat where her hand was. “Stay, Stan. Stay in the fucking water.”

“Yes ma’am.” He mutters, still smiling at her like an idiot. God, she was pretty, god her hand felt nice along his cold bitter skin. She was out the door so quickly. Was it possible to miss someone who was just in the other room?

She’s barreling down the stairs, flipping on every gas burner in her wake on the kitchen stove. Stumbling to the cupboard, pulling out saucepans and the like to put water in. She’d boil it, damnit. Like her grandmother used to do for her when she was preparing her bath.

She doesn’t breathe until every corner of the stove is full. Leaned over the countertop next to the burners. Her hand rubbed along her chest, along her heart. Self-soothing, the purpose of the continuous motion above the erratic beating. She had tunnel vision up until now, suddenly noticing that she hadn’t even flicked on the kitchen light. Hadn’t even closed the front door.

She had been scared. Still was. Shaken beyond something she knew. It pained her to be in the next room, afraid of looking over her shoulder and not finding him there. She’d never lead them through crowds again, never let him stray far from her peripheral. Because then he would be gone, could be gone.

Ice seeps in through her snow pants, and she tugs off her boots too. Socks wet against the kitchen tile. Her hands shake as she pulls her boots loose.

She had almost lost him. Lost him for good. It was a shell shock beyond her, beyond her imagination. For the last five years, it was hard to conjure up adventures and trips without him. The thought of flippantly leaving him behind never crossed her mind. Hadn’t ever left her mind. Not after storming in through the shack's door, not after his confession to her across the dim kitchen table, across their kitchen table.

She sits there now, feeling like it was a lifetime ago, but knowing she could blink and mistake the past for the present. He had reached across to her that night, across the table. Held his palms face up when he asked for help. When he confided in a four-second mistake he had made. She had hesitated then, to reach for him. To reach across and find assurance between them, to fold her hands into his own. She had judged initially. But they had both made mistakes. Both made mirror image mistakes, it felt. She didn't want to hesitate to reach for him ever again. She just feared he would be gone before she could. Feared he would disappear along her shoulder line.

She had thought it was obvious, the unspoken agreement between them. That they both meant something to the other. That her dreams threaded into a deeper reality, and that the jokes they shared weren’t some passing balm to deal with it all. That the late nights in front of the T.V. analyzing movies were for the thrill of each other's company, and that their yearly poker game was a silent promise of convergence. That the shitty driving lessons weren’t so she could drive away from him someday, that chalkboard lessons were so he wouldn’t scoff when she said he was smart with her whole chest. That the yearly diner dates were just that, just dates. Not something flippant, not something as unkind as the upkeep of an image. That he opened doors for her for a reason and tucked her below his chin because he cared enough to. That he reached across tables, palms up, because he never feared her hesitation.

Something unwritten between them she believed, everything shared in everything but words and letters. She was a calculating woman throughout her years and didn’t know how to trace the beginning of the feelings she had amassed all the way to the end of it. She didn’t know how to explain that her heart clenched when he leaned over the seat to buckle her in or explain how her hands shake when he reaches for the chalk from her now in the middle of a lesson. It was inconsequential, improbable, and entirely unexplainable to well… explain the sum of him to her. It felt little in comparison to his constant devotion.

The two front pots begin to boil over, she lifts her head, turning off burners and carrying a stem to a pot in both hands. Taking the stairs two at a time again, uncaring about the burning water running down her arms in her haste to make it back to him.

He’s still the same shade, but he lifts his head to look at her when she enters now. His smile less doppy, more genuine. His hair beginning to dry along his head, no ice to be found in its dark strands. He’s still leaning heavily along the back of the tub, not yet able to hold himself up. Color coming back to his cheeks, to his face. She kneels beside the tub, the floor wet as it seeps in through her pants. She pours in one pot at a time, swiping the water around to acclimate it to the bathwater. His hands move unconsciously, grabbing a strand of her hair to fold behind her ear. To be able to look at her more clearly through the fog of hot water.

She begins to pour the next pot into the tub, but he tugs her forward, folds her body against the rim of the tub. Something in her makes her stand, lifting her feet into the tub. The way he looks at her, so disorientated and shivering still. It moves her forward, has her crawling into the tub completely clothed just to lay her cheek against his chest. To make sure it continues to rise under her. Like when she sleeps, and he lulls her back to sleep by simply being there. She wants that, for him to lull her racing heart now. Make her forget about his disappearing visage and still water. He does that, hums like he always does, folding her head under his scruffy chin. Comforting her despite his weakened figure. Hoping she wouldn’t notice how cold he still was against her.

Something unwritten she believed, something she had never had to say out loud because she had never felt this weird depth before. But he was slipping from her grasp now, heavy against the rim of the tub. And so very quiet it made her sick, made her heart chase up her throat. Made her anxious beyond words, because the thing she meant to say to him would stay unwritten. If he was gone she’d only voice such fantasies in her dreams. The dreams she had of him as hers, those other realities her mind conjured where he wore a golden band and called her his. Where she was his.

“You're mine.” Her voice was unwavering, something unwritten between the syllables of her words. It blooms and bursts from her throat, a growth that had sprouted long ago, stumbles out of her mouth searching for light. Still folded under his chin, along his chest. Her shirt wet from the water, bunched up along her waist where he had put his hands.

He gets that look in his eyes despite her intensity, a joke on the tip of his tongue. Something to soothe her racing heart, to stamp down the distant look in her eyes. How she had looked in the car scared him, the rush of her chest but the focus of her eyes. Like they had been driving in the dark, through a neverending tunnel. But she chases it away before he can open his mouth, her hand meeting and cupping his scruffy jaw, pulling back from her comfort to look at him. Turning his eyes to her intense ones, ones that held something unspoken.

“No.” A shake to her voice, eyes blurry. “You’re mine.”

He nods, his voice stuck in his throat. Running his hands up her back, his warmer hands.

“Y-you aren’t allowed to leave me like that, Stanley. You can’t l-leave me all alone like that.” Flashes of a towering beast are nothing compared to turning over her shoulder. Of searching the horizonline. Like she does for Stanford, eyes drifting to tree lines. She wouldn’t, couldn’t compartmentalize doing such a thing for Stanley. She’d take back hesitancies and reach across tables palm up if it meant he wouldn’t leave her again.

“I promise, angel.” He takes her again, tucking her back to his chest. Her racing heart fluttered against his warming chest. “I won’t leave.”

Her hand fall into that crook in his chest, the other clutching along his back, trying to bring him closer, trying to make the space between them disappear. She sniffling, from the cold and stress, against his chest and he doesn’t think twice about his words. Thinking of reaching for her, of meeting her across bridges and tables and in tunnels to meet her open palms, her warm hands. Unfurling her from his chest to lean down and place his lips near her ear, something unspoken between syllables.

“You’re mine, too.”

His lips traveling to her cheek, hovering against the flush skin before tracing her warmth. Kissing the apple of her cheek as she leans into the front of him. His lips warm against her cheek, like she had dreamed of. He had never been this close in the waking world, something she craved more with each passing day. She never pulled away, sniffling as he brings her forward again. No hesitation to be found in the nod of her head along his scruff, a nudge, and nestle of agreement. Something unspoken, unwritten.

She forgot about the pots and burners.

#gravity falls #gravity falls fanfiction #gravity falls imagine #grunkle stan #stanley pines #stan pines #stanley pines x reader #stan pines x reader

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batsandbirdbrains · 2 months ago

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I am begging Begging BEGGING for Dick & Donna Wonder Twin fics set in the young justice universe pls Robin!Dick is such a menace in season 1 I love him we were robbed of their dynamic

The one where the Wonder Twins run amok

I don’t have any real like plot line ideas for this one I just would love for someone to write a fic with them and then let me read it so here’s some vague ideas<3

Robin and Wonder Girl actually definitely knew about the watchtower prior to season 1 but were told to keep their mouths shut abt it to their other lil sidekick friends so they did. They may or may not have several different hiding spots on said watchtower. They definitely have never snuck up on there after hacking the security system and then called it Spatial Awareness Training by boobytrapping random doors and corners and a few chairs in a meeting room or two and perhaps rigged a refrigerator to squirt mustard on the face of whoever opened it. They definitely did not ever think calling it Spatial Awareness Training was a hilarious play on words considering the watchtower is in space. They definitely don’t have a spreadsheet on who does and does not pass their monthly SAT training.

Donna perhaps has her own room at Wayne Manor, across from Dick’s. They often have sleepovers. Bruce pretends not to know that they sneak out sometimes so Donna can take Dick flying around the grounds.

Artemis thinks Dick and Donna are obnoxious

Conner is sad that Donna clearly knows Robin’s secret ID, but he’s more understanding when Robin explains that Batman is very paranoid and Robin wants to tell his friends, but he doesn’t want to do anything that could potentially put Batman in danger.

M’gann thinks they’re actually twins or siblings at first, and Dick just grins and plays into it for the longest time until Wonder Woman herself shuts that idea down. And it wasn’t even on purpose, which made Dick insanely pouty for at least a day. Donna made fun of him.

In relation to the previous point, Dick manages to convince M’gann for longer than he thought he’d be able to get away with that he was actually also Amazonian but he has no powers because he’s a boy, and that’s why Wonder Woman gave him to Batman to train. Donna never once contradicts anything he says about it, but also never actually confirms it either. Plausible deniability.

Dick and Donna are goofy together at Mount Justice during training, so much so that it freaks their new teammates out a bit when they start going on missions all together because they actually take the mission Very Seriously.

Whenever Dick and Bruce are having a tiff, Donna is super cold towards Bruce. I don’t typically like making Bruce an asshole kinda dad bc I think him being doting is way more fun, but I could see him being kinda hot and cold in this universe. Maybe he’s too rough during training in the batcave one day, and Dick goes to Donna’s and complains about it and she has to watch him hold an ice pack to his bruised, swollen jaw and she wants to gut Bruce. Dick always has a place to stay with Donna when Bruce gets to be too much or he just needs some space.

Similarly, if Donna and Diana ever get on each others nerves, Donna knows she can always stay with Bruce and Dick for a couple days to cool down.

There is a rare occasion where they’re both mad at their respective guardians for various reasons, and they stay in the same extra room at Mount Justice together. They don’t tell the others why they’re there. No one asks them to explain.

Idk I just love them together and I’m still mad we got all of like 3 seconds of Donna in the yj cartoon it was a travesty.

#dick Grayson #Donna Troy #young Justice #Robin #wonder girl #wonder twins #fic ideas #I love them your honor

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minziemoon · 5 months ago

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Life Series Rare Pairs I Wanna See More Of

Inspired by everyone else on my tl posting their dream team lineups for a life series season, I decided to do my own by thinking of the most random combinations I can imagine that would be entertaining to witness. Some of these are gonna be more detailed, some are just for vibes, and some for shits and giggles. Also I haven't watched every single pov of every single series, and I have the memory of a goldfish sometimes, so forgive me if these aren't all THAT rare. 🙏

1. Cleo + Jimmy

- This duo materialized itself in my brain after a random wild life episode from Jimmy's pov where he had a near death experience and ran to Cleo for comfort. It's occupied a lil corner of my brain ever since.

- I think Jimmy would really benefit from someone like Cleo on his side. Someone who you know you can rely on and come back to whenever you're in need of help. Unless you betray them, Cleo is such a good teammate and has a mom/older sibling feeling to her.

- I can imagine she'd spend half the season convincing Jimmy not to go poking fun at ppl and making enemies, only for her to snap once someone kills her unjustly and goes on to commit arson apon half the server. Then the roles would switch.

2. Gem + BigB

- The difference between Cleo and Jimmy's paragraphs to these two... I told yall some of them are just fueled by the potential of vibes.

- I have no clue how these two would function together. They barely even interact. But that's exactly why I want them together!!!

- I feel like they'd be really wholesome. Knowing Gem she'd bring out the best in him... but I also feel like B would once again betray or back stab her in some way. Either way I've become too curious and invested now.

3. Grian + Pearl

- The fact that the skyblings themselves are a rare pair nowadays is concerning. They don't interact NEARLY enough. The amount of wasted potential is to cry about.

- I feel like they'd be all up in other ppl's business. If Pearl were to turn red before Grian, I think he'd have the same dynamic with her like with red lifer Scar in 3rd life, supporting and encouraging her crimes from afar, really birthing another menace on the server.

- They'd have the time of their lives while red together and I'd be SEATED.

4. Mumbo + Tango

- One episode they're the most miserable wet cats on the map, the next their trap kills half the server. Their fate as a duo would be a gamble.

- Idk if their combined brain power would cancel each other out or multiple. Most likely cancel out. Because putting an uncontrolable nervous wreck with the ticking timebomb of unhingness CAN NOT turn out positive.

- Still, it would be SO entertaining and probably make for funny quotes.

5. Lizzie + Bdubs

- It felt like my brain glitched a lil when remembering these two.

- I feel like they'd be weirdly wholesome?? Like they wouldn't stress each other out. Maybe Bdubs' vocal coards could finally catch a break from yelling every episode. Also lowkey feel like he'd try his best to protect her.

- Pls Watchers, let them build some cute cotteges in the woods somewhere in peace 🙏

6. Ren + Scar

- Ik they aren't THAT rare to see together, but the fact that they've never been close to teaming before is astonishing to me.

- If Scar doesn't turn Ren's thing with Martyn into a love triangle by the end of the season, no one else ever will. The Red Winter would rise once again, but with two kings this time.

- I just wanna see theater kids have fun, okay? Sue me if you must. Martyn can join in too I would not mind in the slightest.

#life series #life series smp #traffic smp #trafficblr #mcyt #zombiecleo #jimmy solidarity #geminitay #bigbstatz #goodtimeswithscar #rendog #mumbo jumbo #tangotek #ldshadowlady #bdoubleo100 #grian #pearlescentmoon

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mimikyuno · 1 year ago

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my yuriful summer 2024 watchlist 🏖️☀️

now that i checked out the first episode of all the yuriful shows i was keeping an eye on, here’s my first thoughts and impressions

Mayonaka Punch

tags: comedy, supernatural, vampire

thoughts on episode 1: LOVED IT SO SO MUCH!!! i love the mc already she’s such a mess and i already love the dynamic between her and the raging vampire lesbian. my favorite from the ones on this list tbh!! need more cancelled youtubers and horny for blood lesbian vampires. also i have a weak spot for anime with adult characters who can drink alcohol and get wasted lol. WILL be watching EAGERLY.

yuri thoughts 🌸: the yuri looks solid!! there was verbal mention of lesbian romantic feelings. and as in most vampire shows, blood drinking is metaphor for sex but it’s made quite explicit in this one which increases the yuri score. the protagonists have already a v interesting dynamic im invested.

(EDIT) POST EP 3 THOUGHTS: i love this one more and more!!! still my fave out of these 5 for some reason? i just like masaki and live’s dynamic a lot, i hope they kiss

(EDIT) ALMOST END OF THE SEASON UPDATE: only one of these im still watching lmao ep 9 and 10 were really good! i hope masaki and live make out by the end. yuki best girl

Na Nare Hana Nare

tags: sports

thoughts on episode 1: LOVE the colors and art style in this one! love that there’s a girl in a wheelchair!! love the brazilian girl who keeps kissing everyone!! the parkour girl is turbo autistic fr… also a ninja lmao. im v interested in this tbh!! will be watching.

yuri thoughts 🌸: im v interested in the possible yuriful dynamics, especially between the girl in a wheelchair and mc, and between parkour ninja autistic and tall girl. i think the brazilian girl and girl who follows her around are also supposed to be shipped.

(EDIT) POST EP 3 THOUGHTS: yeppp turbo autism ninja is a huge lesbian i love her sm 💌. very sweet show!

(EDIT) ALMOST END OF THE SEASON UPDATE: on hold. it got quite boring at the ep 5 mark and i cant will myself to continue. might drop

Senpai was Otokonoko

tags: crossdressing, love polygon, romance, school

thoughts on episode 1: this counts as yuriful and i Will fight u on this. bisexual girl x closeted trans girl x closeted gay childhood friend love triangle? discussions of gender identity? yes pls. will be continuing it!!

yuri thoughts 🌸: makoto and aoi are cute 🥹

(EDIT) POST EP 3 THOUGHTS: idc about whatever happens later on, makoto is a trans girl, episode 2 and 3 are an insane confirmation. even if she never breaks through her eggshell throughout the whole series, she’s trans. no like fr. i love her so so much and i hope she’ll be able to transition (either at the end of the series or afterwards). egg of the season 🥚🏳️‍⚧️

(EDIT) ALMOST END OF THE SEASON UPDATE: meh. dropped lmao

Shikanoko Nokonoko Koshitantan

tags: comedy, gag humor, school

thoughts on episode 1: “shiiiika 🦌!!!” okay y’all know i love me some gag humor anime but tbqh im feeling kinda lukewarm on this one. maybe it’s bc i had rly high expectations for this but idk most of the gags did not hit as nice as i hoped. tho some of them were brilliant (also looove the constant breaking of the fourth wall). not looking forward to the siscon character that’s gonna be introduced. will be continuing but might drop if i get bored. however i loved how they Did mention that only male deer have horns sooo… noko transbian 🦌🏳️‍⚧️?

yuri thoughts 🌸: the two protagonists have great yuri potential!! torako has already shown she’s a huge girl kisser and noko just keeps teasing her, which is a great dynamic imo. also torako’s va is hatsune miku’s voice provider, and we all know hatsune miku is transbian goddess so!

(EDIT) POST EP 3 THOUGHTS: okay nvm i actually love this!!!!!! and the siscon character is such a caricature and parody of the siscon trope that i love her too (also she’s voiced by mafuyu project sekai uwu).

(EDIT) ALMOST END OF THE SEASON UPDATE: dropped lmao (gags got boring, i have seen too many similar shows)

VTuber Nandaga Haishin Kiri Wasuretara Densetsu ni Natteta

tags: comedy, otaku culture

thoughts on episode 1: once again maybe unpopular opinion but im not completely sold on this one. yes it’s fun, yes she’s unhinged, yes they’re all absolutely raging homosexuals BUT idk how to explain it but it feels very much male oriented. idk i think i feel this way bc it’s my personal pet peeve when otaku shows focus mostly on men as the intended audience (for example, when they showed her audience, all the viewers were men which like. they could have shown at least one woman who likes watching her videos yknow?). so anyway. at least it’s incredibly gay? and once again, love characters gettinf drunk lol. but idk i feel like this was made to ride the wave of hololive and get men on twitter to share funny clips idk. i like how they use actual vtuber avatars in certain scenes, and i get the vibe they’ll want to make these girls real vtubers, hence why we dont see what they actually look like but just their vtuber persona. will be checking out more ep but will drop if it gets too meh.

yuri thoughts 🌸: as mentioned, all the girls are RAGING homosexuals fr. asking about favorite lesbian porn scenarios to each other to possibly act them out. hello?!

(EDIT) POST EP 3 THOUGHTS: again nvm, i like this one too now lmao tho i’d rank it last out of these 5 tbh. but it’s so unhinged and deranged that it’s a super fun watch

(EDIT) ALMOST END OF THE SEASON UPDATE: the wii fit -like episode was the last drop. burnt braincells i’ll never grow back. dropped byeee 0/10

#edited july 25 with ep 3 thoughts!!#i was gonna make this the other day but i was gonna check out dungeon no naka no hito but in the end i decided to skip that one for now #i think i wanna start doing this anime season for myself as a sort of yuri journal uwu 🌸#mayonaka punch #narenare #narenare cheer for you #senpai wa otokonoko #painoko #shikanoko nokonoko koshitantan #vtuber legend #na nare hana nare #yuri #himejoshi #VTuber Nandaga Haishin Kiri Wasuretara Densetsu ni Natteta #mine

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jujuprincesinhasofia · 4 months ago

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The Hunger Games Parallels and What They Could Mean for Stranger Things 5

If you've never watched The Hunger Games, think of it like this:

Will = Peeta

El = Gale

Mike = Katniss

Why:

Katniss meets Gale in the woods at 12. Peeta met Katniss first (they weren't close but we ignore that for this).

Then there’s Peeta’s line: "Your family needs you" ("so El needs you Mike) and the scene includes a gift Peeta is giving Katniss talking abt Gale. (there were three pictures, gale's was the one in the center, between her mom and sister)

People also thought Gale was Katniss’s cousin ("she's my cousin").

Gale also asks Katniss "Do you love me" ("you don't love me anymore?") and Katniss said "You know how I feel about you" which reminds me a lot of "you know what I think of you."

But things get even more interesting if you bring in Snow as Vecna.

Peeta’s Capture → Will’s Fate?

In Mockingjay, Peeta is taken by the Capitol (aka Snow), and Gale—along with others—goes on a mission to rescue him. Meanwhile, Katniss is trying to reach and talk to Snow. Desperate, she pleads:

"Please, release Peeta and take me instead." (this is such a mike thing to say btw)

Snow refuses. He taunts her instead.

Katniss realizes too late—it was a trap. "It's a trap. We have to get a hold of them." "It's a trap! I need to warn them. It's a trap!" (mike in s2 + star wars parallel i think)

She says "Did I lose them both tonight?" and it is heartbreaking y'all. I def see us getting something similar. She hugs Haymitch, and I'd see Haymitch being Eddie, but since Eddie is... not here, I'd think idk. Nanyc, Karen, Hopper, anyone from the party? Idk y'all and this is not the focus but i spent too much time here and I think hopper

Like: "Am I losing both of them? I can't— I can’t lose them again." or "I can’t—I already lost them once, I already did this once I can't"

This is actually the quote that got me writing this

NOW, something else: Peeta was hijacked. In this theory: Hijacking → Vecna’s Influence

In THG, hijacking

"Induced terrifying hallucinations, altering the memory and introducing fear and doubt into the victim’s mind."

Which sounds a lot like what Vecna did to Max in the Snow Ball memory. This fits a lot the Venkman foreshadowing too.

And: Peeta, under Snow’s control, attacks Katniss—specifically grabbing her throat. Now, if you remember, there was a rumor that Will was going to choke Mike in Season 5.

And, in Mockingjay, Gale watches her kiss Peeta and says:

"She never kissed me like that."

Maybe we will get something similar in Stranger Things? Maybe a version of:

"He never looked at me like that." or idk

Of course, we can (and will) ignore the bad parts of Gale’s arc (ahem, Prim). But the core dynamic? The love triangle, the rescue mission, the betrayal, and the emotional fallout (and for multiple seasons now!!)? Yesss I'm here for it

pls let me know what u think!!!!! what u agree and disagree with + stuff I got wrong or forgot! and whatever you'd like to add <3

#byler #stranger things #mike wheeler #byler tumblr #will byers #stranger things 5 #byler nation #byler endgame #eleven hopper #stranger things 5 speculation #stranger things s5 #st s5

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potatoplace · 10 months ago

Text

You Can Have It - Chapter 3

Alpha!Feysand x Omega!Reader

chapter 2 | chapter 4 | series masterlist

Story Summary: You've been a baker for 75 years, and are finally moving on from the Winter Court to the City of Velaris to start your own bakery after your grandmother passes. After your grand opening, the High Lord and Lady of Night become daily visitors to your bakery for months, every day having your most popular pastry- one that increases fertility for a short time. All the while, the two alphas want nothing more than to call themselves yours.

Warnings: A/B/O Dynamics, no rhys and feyre 😠

Words: ~5.3k

Author's Note: it's here! There will be a second chapter posted soon as well, I needed to cut this one in half otherwise it won't fit in one post. And I rlly want to get to the scene meeting Rhys and Feyre aaaahhhhh I hope you guys like this chapter!

18+ only pls

🤍🩵🤍💜🤍

Tuesday had passed quickly for you, spent with you writing down everything you needed for your bakery, the apartment, and garden in the building process.

You had a visions in your head for exactly how it should look- a log cabin similar in style to those in Winter, with a set of stained glass double doors depicting the cycle of dawn, day, and night during the winter season. The main floor of the bakery would be divided into two parts, with the actual kitchen area being in the back, separated by a wall stretching two thirds of the way across, leaving an open archway to connect the two on the left side. Windows of course, some in the front of the bakery as well as along the sides, and one that takes up most of the back wall of the kitchen, so that you’ll always be able to stare out the Sidra while preparing you baked goods.

At the far right of the kitchen, away from the access into the shop, you were going to have a spiral staircase leading up to your apartment if that was a possibility.

Upstairs, you would have a personal kitchen of your own, also against right side of the back wall of the building, with another large window to offer you the same benefit as the floor below. To the left you’d have your bathroom, sectioned off with walls- you were most excited about the large, possibly custom tub you’d have put in, with more than enough room for you to soak with your wings in the water if you wished.

The indoor part of the upstairs should cover about two thirds of the top floor, with your bedroom not separated by a wall from the kitchen. You wanted to feel free and open in your new home. That left the rest of the second floor for your small garden you were planning to have. Viviane had made sure you knew that you could take some of the plants your grandmother had lovingly planted and tended to. She had loved that garden so much, and had done as much as she could to revive the garden after coming back from captivity, teaching you to tend to them before her cursed illness had gotten too bad.

You were planning to have the space enchanted to act as a temperature controlled greenhouse, that way the frail Winter native plants could survive even in the summer. Among them would be a few bushes: hornberry, the fertility enhancing berries, chillberry, which grow berries that help to alleviate heats, and saiberry, a helpful berry and leaf for reducing the symptoms of ruts. You would also have a variety of medicinal herbs that you used in your pastries related to general health.

You were beyond excited to start drawing up the plans for the building as soon as you had the proper permits. When you went to bed that night, it was all you could think about.

Wednesday morning, you awoke to a note from Marcus, telling you that the demolition and construction permits were approved, and to get yourself over to your lot as soon as you could.

It was only seven in the morning, but you rushed to dress for the winter weather quickly, flying down the stairs and quickly but carefully making your way to the Rainbow.

More snow had fallen overnight, and hardly anyone was out at this time. Most of the streets were still untouched by fae, and silent with the extra help of the snow. You reached the edge of the Rainbow quickly, and spotted Marcus among a dozen other men, all dressed warmly and carrying a variety of construction tools or busying themselves with the two large carts in the middle of the street, attached to two massive horses.

“Y/N!” Marcus exclaimed as soon as he met your eyes, marching over to you and pulling you back to the group. “This is our new boss for the next couple of months, gents, be nice to her, alright?” The men all nodded their heads in agreement, keeping their eyes respectful when they did dart across your form, though many lingered on your wings. “So, Y/N, would you like to take the first swing?” Marcus asked you, already handing you a heavy sledgehammer.

“Why not?” You said lightly, approaching the dilapidated building. You took a swing at one of the windows, and glass went flying into the building. The males behind you whooped, then followed your lead and began tearing down the building as quickly and effectively as they could. You turned back to Marcus, handing him the sledgehammer.

“Y/N, if you’re available now, I’d like to start drawing up the floor plans for your bakery,” Marcus suggested, and your face broke into a grin.

“I’d love nothing more than that, Marcus. But, could we get breakfast first? I came as soon as I woke up,” you said, blushing when your stomach growled, as if to prove your point.

Marcus only chuckled and took your arm, leading you East to the Palace of Flame and Steel. “Of course we can get breakfast, there’s this cute little restaurant that should be open right now, they serve some amazing breakfast foods there.”

As promised, the food in the cozy restaurant was delicious. You’d had a scramble with potatoes, peppers, onions, and sausage, topped with a good amount of cheese. The two of you left feeling stuffed, and made your way to his office, shucking off your winter gear and hanging it on the hooks near the door.

Marcus quickly started a fire in the fireplace, adding some much appreciated heat to the room. The two of you settled in around his desk, and Marcus pulled out a notepad, quill and ink.

"So, do you know what type of building you'd like? Brick, stone, wood..."

"I'd prefer having a log cabin style of building, if that's a possibility," you said, hoping that it would be.

Marcus smiled at you and wrote down your answer. "Of course we can, and we can even go to the lumber yard in a couple of days to pick out the type of wood you'd like, Y/N. Now... what were you thinking for the floor plan?"

"I want it to be a two story building, with the top floor being dedicated as an apartment and also a garden, if everything works out."

"A garden on the second floor?"

You nodded your head. "Yes, I'm planning to have it enchanted so that I can grow some Winter crops year round, and they'll be safer off the ground, I think."

"Alright, that should be doable enough. If you'd like I can direct you to an interior designer who also specializes in home and business enchantments, she should be able to make that garden happen for you."

"Perfect!" You said, clapping your hands together excitedly. Everything was already seeming possible.

The two of you spent the next five hours going over every detail that you wanted built into the building, and by the end of it he had a preliminary sketch of the building.

"The main problem with your spiral staircase would be getting the tub and furniture up and down the stairs. I do happen to have a couple of Illyrians working in my company right now, so we should be able to get the tub up before the roof's construction is done, but the furniture would most likely need to be fully assembled upstairs, or we fly it in before the roof is finished."

You bit your lip for a moment, considering your options. "That would be fine, getting everything in before the roof is finished. Would there be any problems with doing that?"

Marcus shook his head. "No, it's more just something to consider. The spiral staircase will save you some space, so it's a good idea for your floor plan to keep as much space on the first floor for the bakery. Go ahead and look over the blueprint, and tell me if anything is off." He slid the paper over to you, careful not to smear any of the still drying ink.

Your eyes greedily took in the floor plans, already looking exactly how you wanted it. The main floor was divided in the way you had pictured, and the kitchen would be wide enough to accommodate your wings and even another person, if you ended up needing to hire someone to help you.

Only one thing was missing, something you'd hadn't thought of until now.

"Would it be possible to have a fireplace on both floors? On the main floor, about halfway through the front room and on the left, and on the top floor one on the right, after the spiral staircase?"

Marcus looked at the plans for a moment before answering you. "Yes, that should be doable, especially if we allow the chimney to stick out and along the side of the building for the first floor one." He quickly sketched in the fireplace on the floor plan, then turned to the exterior mock up and added the chimney to the side. "Does that look fine to you?"

"Yes, that looks perfect! Thank you!"

"It's no problem, Y/N," Marcus said with a soft smile. "If you think of anything else you'd like in the blueprints, you can either send me a note with it or come here, I'm normally in from six in the morning to six at night."

"I'll make sure to let you know, but I honestly think we got everything down!" You said excitedly.

"I'm glad to hear that, Y/N. The tear down process should be finished by the end of the week, including getting someone in to cast a charm to keep snow from falling over the lot. Then the actual building process after that, as long as everything goes right and all we need to build is available, shouldn’t take more than two months. Now, would you like me to show you to that interior designer I mentioned?" He offered.

"Oh, I'd love that!" Right as you said it, your stomach growled loudly once again. You looked up at him sheepishly. "Want to go to lunch first?" You asked with a chuckle.

"I'd love that," Marcus replied, already standing from his chair and stretching.

You did the same, finally feeling the tension that had built in your body from sitting for so long. Your wings fluttered slightly as they stretched, before you finally relaxed once more.

The two of you threw on your outerwear again and headed out of Marcus's office, and you let him lead you to another restaurant, a different one than this morning.

"This is my favorite spot for lunch, they have these delicious sandwiches," Marcus said as he held the door open for you, letting you walk in first before following you.

It smelled heavenly inside, and if your watering mouth was anything to go by, you knew he was correct.

"I'll have whatever you're having," you told Marcus before he stepped up to the counter. "I'm sure whatever it is will be tasty, but I can't choose between all of those options," you laughed.

"That's fine, Y/N. Any foods you want to avoid?" Marcus asked, looking down at you as you shook your head. "Alright then." He stepped up to the counter, you following right behind him. "We'll have two of your cheesesteaks, please.” Marcus went to hand over his bank card like he had for breakfast this morning, but you beat him to it, grinning at him when he put his card away while shaking his head, a matching expression on his face.

After you paid, the two of you took a seat at a table near the windows, only waiting a couple of minutes to be served your sandwiches. “Thank you.”

“It’s no problem, dearie,” the older high fae said with a smile before she walked back behind the counter.

“And thank you, Y/N, for buying me this delicious lunch,” Marcus said to you, right before taking a large bite of his sandwich.

“Well, you did pay for breakfast,” you said before you followed suit, finding the sandwich made of thinly sliced beef, onions, peppers, and cheese to be just as good as he’d said it would be.

“How’s Velaris been treating you so far?” He asked you after a few minutes.

You swallowed your bite, then said “It’s been really nice so far, everyone’s been very welcoming and I just feel so lucky to be here, and already be making so much progress on my business.”

Marcus smiled at you. “I’m glad to hear it, Y/N. I hope everything continues to go your way.”

“Same here. How’s your life been treating you?”

“Oh, it’s going well right now. My business has been doing better than ever in the past two years since I had a contract with the High Lady, and I happen to have a very sweet new client,” Marcus replied, and his words made you blush.

“That’s good to hear. What was it like working for the High Lady?”

“Feyre and the High Lord, Rhys, were both extremely easy to work with, pretty similar to how it’s been working with you. They knew exactly what they wanted and were good at describing it. It was an honor to work with them, and one of the best experiences I’ve had since taking over the business.”

“They sound like a lovely pair of rulers for the Court, then.”

“Oh yes, I feel we are one of the best treated cities in all of Prythian. And they’ve even begun taking steps to change how Illyria and the Hewn City are run,” Marcus added.

The two of you finished eating, and all you could think of was the High Lord and Lady, and that all of the good you’d heard about them in Winter had to be true, if Marcus, a citizen of Velaris, believed it to be true as well.

“Now, let’s get you to Gabrella’s shop, she is newer to the business, only having moved here five years ago, but all of my clients that I’ve sent to her have nothing but good things to say about her,” Marcus said, extending an arm to you after he’d returned your plates to the front counter.

He led you a few blocks away from the restaurant, deeper into the Palace of Flame and Steel. The two of you stopped in front of cute, red brick building with flower beds lining the front, covered in snow at the moment. Marcus opened the door for you, and you stepped inside, immediately loving the cozy feel of the shop, and you spotted an fae female, with large, black leathery wings coming from her back.

They were absolutely beautiful.

You’d heard of Illyrians before, and as a child had thought that wings without feathers could not possibly be pretty, but your child self was proved wrong the moment you laid eyes on her wings.

“Welcome in- oh, Marcus! Another client of yours, I presume?” The fae asked as the two of you made your way back to the counter she was seated at.

Her smell hit you, a sweet blend of mountain air, honey, and some type of berry that you couldn’t quite place- an omega. That instantly put you at ease. It’s not that Marcus’s scent wasn’t nice, the snow and pine mix was pleasant, but knowing that at least one of the people you’d be working with for the next couple of months is an omega was calming.

“Yes, my name is Y/N. I’m going to be opening a bakery with an apartment upstairs in the Rainbow soon, and Marcus is helping with the construction aspect. He said that you’re an interior designer?”

The Illyrian nodded her head and replied, “Yes, my name is Gabrella. I do interior design work and household and business enchantments.”

“Would you be able to show her a bit of your work, Rella?” Marcus asked. “She’s wanting a greenhouse for year round Winter native plants, and I know you just recently finished something similar.”

Gabrella’s eyes lit up at that, and she stood from her spot behind the counter. “I would be delighted to show you something like that, Y/N. Marcus, you can come too, if you don’t have anything else to do.”

Marcus looked at the clock on the wall to the left, sighing when he saw the time. “No, I should be getting back to check on the boys, make sure the demolition is going to plan,” he said, making his way to the door. “Y/N, remember that you can come by my office from six to six if you need anything, and you’re always free to stop by your lot at any time, alright?”

“Thanks you, Marcus. I’ll probably see you sometime tomorrow.”

“That sounds good,” he said, leaving with a wave.

“Bye Marcus!” Gabrella said right before he shut the door. “Alright, Y/N, I’ll have you come upstairs with me, my garden is on the third floor.”

You followed the other fae up the stairs, then up one more set, coming out onto a beautiful rooftop garden, filled with lovely blossoming tropical flowers. The air was warm and humid, even with their being no walls or roof.

“This is amazing,” you said, trailing your hands over a few of the blooms lightly. “How were you able to do this?” You asked, turning to Gabrella.

“Well, it took a couple of years for me to get the enchantments perfect, but it’s not too different from doing an indoor temperature control charm. It does require a bit more magical power, especially if the plants need any else besides the temperature controlled. Like the humidity, that was the part that took me the longest to get down, but now that I have, all of my sweet little plants are thriving,” Gabrella explained, looking down fondly at all of the flowers she’d been able to grow thanks to her magical talent.

“Would you be able to do something similar for me?” You asked hopefully.

“I believe I could, it may take a couple of tries to get the climate just right for you. Do you have an idea of when your building will be finished enough to start the garden?”

“Not quite, though Marcus said the whole process should take a little over two months. I’m just not sure when the second floor would be available to put the garden and enchantments in.”

“That’s perfectly fine, we can play it by ear. Were you wanting my services for anything else?” Gabrella asked, gesturing for you to head back downstairs.

“Yes, I was hoping that you would be my interior designer as well, along with any other enchantments I’d need for my building.”

“Wonderful, I’ll grab a contract for you right now,” Gabrella said after you took a seat in one of the stools in front of the counter. She rifled through a filing cabinet, pulling out a few pieces of paper. “Alright, before anything gets signed, I’d like to know what type of enchantments you’re going to want, as well as the areas of interior design you’d like help with.”

“Obviously you know about the garden,” you said, and the both of you chuckled as she wrote it down. “Plus temperature control for both floors of the building, a fireproofing charm for the kitchen if you’re able to do that.”

“Oh, yes, that’s a popular one, with the city being tightly packed everyone wants to avoid causing a fire in case it takes out a whole neighborhood,” Gabrella said. “Were you going to have a kitchen in the apartment upstairs?”

“Yes, I can’t believe I forgot to mention that,” you laughed, surprised that you were missing a few details. It had to be all the excitement, you had been drawing up floor plans all day. “Do you do plumbing enchantments?”

“Mhm, as long as you have actual plumbing pipes installed in the building, we’re able to get hot and cold water running, as well as connect it to the city’s sewer system,” she answered. “Knowing Marcus, he’s already gone over that with you?”

You nodded your head. “He sure did, he was very adamant in making sure I knew where all of the pipes would be going through the wall.”

“Yes, he’s very thorough like that. That’s why he’s one of the most in demand builders during the typical construction season. Did you have any other enchantments you were hoping for? If you can’t think of them now, I’m always able to add to your total bill, it’s just better in my experience to have as full a picture of the cost before we begin doing the actual work.”

You wracked your brain for any other spells you might need- “I’d like an enchantment that will keep the scent and sounds of the second floor separate from the first floor,” you stated, heat rising to your cheeks.

“That’s a good one!” Gabrella said enthusiastically, writing it down on the paper. “It’s very helpful for if you want to keep your business open with another staff member while you’re in heat, I have that one on my own apartment upstairs,” the omega said with a kind smile. “Anything else, or should we move on to the interior design portion?”

You couldn’t think of another enchantment you might need at the moment. “Interior design, but I’ll let you know if I think of something else.”

“Very good. For the bakery portion, what were you wanting help with?”

“I’d definitely like your help in picking out the furniture, the appliances, and the general look of the inside, and any recommendations or help with a stained glass artist that creates door panels. I do know generally what I want it to look like, but being new to town I would have no idea of where to start.” You thought about that for a moment. “So pretty much everything about it, I’d like your help with,” you giggled.

Gabrella joined you, her laugh so pleasant and fun. “That’s perfectly fine, I love helping create an entire vision! They’re the most fun for me, when my client knows exactly what they want and we just have to scavenger hunt for it all around the city.”

“That’s good, otherwise this would be a real chore for you,” you said jokingly, already loving Gabrella’s personality.

“For the second floor, what were you wanting help with?”

“Most everything again, though with the bedroom I’ll need a bit less help, nesting needs are pretty easy to satisfy on your own,” you replied, mind conjuring a soft nest filled with fabrics in light blues, silver, and white.

“I get that, nests and bedrooms are so personal to us omegas.” Gabrella’s smile was soft as she finished writing everything down. “Alright, I believe with the number and complexity of some of the enchantments, that part will run you for around 50,000 gold marks, and we do offer lifetime warranties on all of them. So if one starts to go faulty, just stop by and I’ll come and fix it as soon as I can for you. And the interior design portion will be around 25,000, and that will include the price of most items, delivery of them, and getting everything in place for you, as well as my help and advice in picking out items. Does a total of 75,000 gold marks sound reasonable to you, with these terms?” Gabrella asked, sliding a contract over to you.

You read it, including the warranty, and thought it all sounded perfectly reasonable. You picked up the extra quill she had sitting in an ink pot and signed your name to the contract. “Yes, this all sounds fine to me. Did you want to take payment now, or later?”

“If you have your bank card on you at the moment-” you were already pulling it out. “Then I’ll take a fifty percent deposit for a total of 37,500 gold marks now, and once the project is complete I’ll take the other half of the payment, plus or minus however much it falls from the estimate.” She pressed your bank card to the ledger on her desk, then handed it back to you. “I’m so happy to get to work with you, Y/N. You seem like a lovely person so far, and I do love a good bakery.”

“I’m looking forward to working with you as well, Gabrella. And I’m glad to know another omega in the city, I’ve only met one other omega here so far.”

“Yes, there aren’t too many of us here, but it’s so safe and free, I think we have a higher population of omegas than most other cities in Prythian. I’m sure you’ll meet more soon enough. Also, you can call me Rella. We’ll be working together for a while, and I have this funny little feeling that we’ll be friends,” Rella said kindly. “Now, would you like to go look at some kitchen stoves and counters if you have time?”

You beamed- nothing would have excited you more at the moment. “I would love to do that, it’s one of the areas I’m looking forward to furnishing most!”

Rella offered her arm to you, which you gladly took. “Perfect! Now, what type of color scheme were you wanting for the kitchen? It might change which shops we go to.”

“I think… soft pastels? Possibly winter themed, or maybe in pinks.”

Rella grinned at you. “I’m liking you more and more with every passing minute,” she said, dragging you away from her shop after locking it up. “We’re going to Arana’s shop, she has the cutest kitchen and dining room furniture you will every see!”

In a few minutes, after a couple of twists and turns through the streets, you arrived at a pastel pink shop, looking very much out of place next to the mostly dark, wooden building surrounding it. Rella pulled you inside, shouting “Arana! I have a new client, you’re going to love her!”

A female stepped out from a back room, ice blonde hair and white wings at her back.

Peregryn. Another Peregryn.

You’d only ever met you’d mother, no others of your kind before. And as you got closer to her- and omega, with a soft scent of pine, cinnamon, and fresh air.

“Well, it’s rare to meet another Peregryn in Velaris, my name is Arana. And yours is…?”

“Y/N, it’s nice to meet you,” you said as you shook her hand.

“It’s nice to meet you as well,” Arana responded warmly. “You said she’s a client of yours, Rella?”

“Yes, she’s building a bakery in the Rainbow-”

“Wonderful! I’ve been wanting a bakery on this side of the Sidra for so long, I hate walking all the way over to the other side in the winter,” Arana interrupted, the looked to Rella sheepishly. “Sorry, Rella, go on please?”

“I know, I’m excited about it too,” Rella laughed. “Shes working with Marcus, and it sounds like they’re still in the process of tearing down the previous building, but the two of us would like to start looking for furniture, countertops, and of course stoves.”

“Oh, is it gonna be a cute bakery?” Arana asked hopefully, and you nodded your head.

“Yes, it’s going to look like a log cabin, and I’m hoping the furniture I get will make it look cute and cozy inside!” You gush, so happy that there are people already excited about your business, even if you were going to be paying them a lot of money in the process. The two of them sound genuinely excited about it, so that didn’t matter.

“Oh, you’ll need log chairs, probably with a selection of different colors of cushions, maybe even some log benches, plus log tables of course to go with the little log theme-”

“All of that sounds great! Do you have any in here?” You asked, already wanting to see some.

“I don’t have any log furniture at the moment, but the shop next door does. I’ll be able to provide the cushions for them, though I’d recommend waiting to pick them out until you know the type of wood you’re using, so that you get the best color match,” Arana offered, pointing to the shop east of hers. “I do have plenty of stove and countertop options, if you’re wanting to go for bright colors in the kitchen. And I do make display cases as well, when you’re ready to look for those.”

You smiled in excitement and said, “Show me the stoves, please.”

🤍🩵🤍💜🤍

The three of you spent the next few hours looking at all Arana had to offer, and you found many different options that you liked. It all depended on what color scheme you ended up going with, but whether it would be done in blues, whites, and silvers or in soft pinks and purples, you were sure you’d be buying from Arana’s store.

The designs and sturdiness of her furnishings were perfect in your opinion, and you were so excited to see your kitchen come together once the building was finished.

You and Rella waved goodbye to Arana as you departed, promising to come back in a few weeks to finalize your decisions, having been sent home with a pamphlet filled with the designs of furniture she offered so that you could think on it further.

You and Rella parted at her shop, leaving you to walk back to the Inn alone, relishing in the sounds of the city as it came alive for the night.

It was nearly seven in the evening when you passed by a restaurant at the end of the Palace of Hoof and Leaf, right next to the bridge that would get you home. The smell coming from the restaurant was heavenly, full of garlic and smelling as though it could burn your tongue with the spice alone. You entered the restaurant, and were quickly seated at the bar, admiring the lively atmosphere before looking over the menu. They served noodle bowls, most of them having a between three and five little peppers drawn next to their names. Judging by the smell in the air, you wouldn’t survive more than a two pepper dish, so you choose the one that had the most garlic in it, sautéed with chicken, zucchini, green cabbage and onions, and of course noodles.

The dish you got was fantastic, as garlicky as you’d hoped for and spicy enough to bring tears to your eyes.

All of the food you’d had in Velaris so far was amazing, and you were excited to delve further into the cookbook that you had back in your room, if these were the types of recipes that were waiting for you.

After paying, you made your way back to the inn more slowly than before, taking time to admire the people skating on the now frozen over Sidra. Everyone seemed to be happy.

It was nice to be a part of that, of a city so joyous at all times.

By the time you made it to your room, it was past eight, and you wanted nothing more than a hot bath and some sleep.

You stripped out of your dress after taking off your outerwear and boots, then peeled off your tights and underthings. You would need to do laundry soon, but that’s a problem for tomorrow.

Your bath was lovely, the hot water warming you nicely and stealing the tension from your muscles. Your bed was even lovelier, so fluffy and soft, and you drifted off to sleep just a few minutes after your head landed on the pillow.

Series Taglist: @icey--stars @breadsticks2004

#you can have it #a/b/o dynamics #a/b/o #acotar omegaverse #alpha!feyre x omega!reader x alpha!rhys #alpha!feysand x omega!reader #acotar a/b/o #omega!reader #feysand x reader omegaverse #feysand x reader #acotar fic #acotar #acotar fanfic #poly!feysand x reader #tato writes

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miedei · 6 months ago

Text

terrible profilers

(aka the team meets early seasons!spence's not-so-secret girlfriend)

a/n: this came to me in my dream last night and i cannot get over it, pls send asks/requests and tell me what you thought! (look at '#mystery girl!au' on my blog to see more musings about them <3)

cw: USE OF Y/N IM SORRY reader has she/her pronouns, the team is nosy, reader is a phd student, my niche personal headcanons of how i think spencer would text, probably more tech inaccuracies

wc: 3.5k

part one | part three | mlist

(reblogs are the only way to promote fics on tumblr! please reblog if you enjoyed it :) )

The moment Spencer walks into the bullpen, he knows something’s up. Garcia never replied to the text he’d sent on Friday night, and he’d hoped she was just busy on their first weekend off in a while, but it’s clear there’s more. Clutching the strap of his satchel, he walks to his desk, observing the strange tension blanketing the room.

For one, Hotch and Gideon are in the bullpen, standing in the corner speaking in hushed tones. Weird. They usually go to one of their offices to talk, and either way, they usually are stuck in their offices until lunchtime when they don’t have cases.

Another thing. JJ and Penelope are standing around Elle’s desk, which isn’t out of the ordinary, but they’ve swivelled around to stare at Spencer like he’s an alien (which they do on occasion, but Spencer is pretty sure he hasn’t been strange yet. He just walked in!).

Derek is sitting on Elle’s desk, leaning over to huddle with the three girls, but he’s frozen with his mouth open, like he just shut up for some reason.

“Uh… Good morning.” Spencer furrows his brows, but tries to shrug it off, more interested in the smell of coffee emanating from the kitchenette. Setting down his bag, he quickly busies himself with pouring his signature overly-sweet (according to you) coffee.

It’s like his movements snap a thread that has been holding his colleagues together, and they suddenly start bustling around the bullpen again. Derek sidles up beside him as he’s stirring in sugar, and Spencer braces himself for some Morgan-esque prod. But what he says has Spencer confused.

“Kid. You know you can tell me anything, right?”

Ok, something is going on. Spencer has worked with Derek since he was 22, and they’ve fallen into a very comfortable dynamic ever since. But neither of them have ever felt the need to reassure the other of their closeness.

“What’s up, Morgan? No jabs today?”

Derek stiffens, like he’s been caught in a lie, and scrambles to reply.

“Well… We- Um, Garcia worried about you on Friday. What was up with you leaving so suddenly?”

Spencer has to bite back a smile, memories of you, coming to O’ Keefe’s just to see him, flooding into his mind. But he answers as smoothly as possible, still turned away from Derek as he elaborates.

“Oh, I felt a bit sick. It was probably the drinking and travelling back and forth from the more arid parts of the country that did it. Did you know, travelling between warmer and colder climates makes you more susceptible to contracting viruses because it strains your immune and musculoskeletal systems, causing the feedback loop of homeostasis to-” Derek puts a hand on his arm, and Spencer quiets.

“Okay, okay, pretty boy, I get it.”

With that, he walks off, and Spencer is left at the kitchenette, stirring his coffee, confused. It’s not like it was a lie, he was feeling nauseous in the bar, so you insisted that you go home. He recovered that same night over a cup of tea, Metropolis on the television, and you cuddled up on the couch next to him.

When he walks back to his desk, mug in hand, he calls out to JJ, still standing by Elle’s desk.

“JJ, no cases today? …JJ?” The blonde is looking at him, but his words seem to fly right over her head, until Elle pokes her shoulder.

“Oh! No, the cases I’m being called about are still pending, we’re probably not leaving on anything until tomorrow.” Spencer smiles softly, glad to have at least one more night sleeping at home this week. Because of his reverie, he doesn’t notice the way JJ, Penelope and Elle are staring at him, befuddled expressions on their faces.

The day continues to be a little weird, much to Spencer’s chagrin. Around 1pm, Gideon emerges from his office again. This, already, is out of the blue. Gideon only leaves his office an average of 3.78 times a day, mainly to go to Hotch’s office, or to go home. This time, however, Gideon marches to Spencer’s desk.

Gideon comes to a stop next to Spencer’s desk chair, and it’s all he can do to muster a blank face and look into his mentor’s eyes.

“Hey, Gideon. What’s… What’s going on?”

The older man sighs wearily, looking down his nose at Spencer, looking uncannily like Spencer’s highschool Calculus teacher when she got irritated at him for being a ‘13 year old know-it-all’.

“Spencer. You weren’t sick on Friday, were you?” What is happening? Spencer doesn’t lie, he’s never told Gideon something untrue, so this is incredibly out of the blue.

“Huh? No, what’s wrong? I felt nauseous, which could’ve technically been a symptom for an inner ear problem, inflammatory bowel disease, gastroenteritis…” Spencer continues to rattle off a list of things he could have had, not noticing the uncharacteristically soft, paternal gaze that Gideon has trained on him.

“...and even a brain tumour, but it was probably because I drank more than I usually do. Why do you think that’s not true?” Spencer finishes his little speech, looking up at Gideon with a confused expression. There’s nothing else the older man can do but sigh, patting his shoulder softly.

“Okay, Reid. Glad you’re feeling better now.” With that, the experienced profiler walks away, not bothering to reply to Spencer’s continued questioning:

“Gideon! What’s wrong? Why are you-” Gideon’s office door slams shut.

Unfortunately, Spencer cannot ignore the rest of the signs, spending the rest of the day in a state of coiled anxiety. Something is going on, but he can’t get anyone to tell him.

Derek and Elle are constantly glancing over at him, unreadable expressions on their faces. Penelope keeps finding excuses to go to Spencer’s desk, and even if Spencer wasn’t a profiler, he’d be able to see the words bubbling up in her throat, but she never says anything.

JJ doesn’t come talk to him at all, which is strange. Instead, she shoots him knowing looks whenever she’s in the bullpen, sending Spencer into a spiral every time she doesn’t say anything about why they’re all acting weird.

He’s even caught Hotch and Gideon peeking through the blinds over their office windows to look at Spencer, with the analytical looks they get when they’re observing a crime scene on their faces. It’s driving Spencer crazy, and he has to tell someone.

You’re leaving your desk when your phone buzzes.

SPENCE <3: Hi. I looked normal when I left the house, right?

Your brow furrows at the text. Normally Spencer isn’t a fan of texting while he’s at work, and you’d told him multiple times how handsome he looked when he left the apartment this morning. He’s wearing his striped white button down and the purple tie you bought him for his birthday last year, he looks pretty. And you made sure to tell him so.

YOU: hi <3

YOU: no spence you look pretty i told you this morning didnt i?

SPENCE <3: You did, thank you. Everyone’s acting weird at work, and I can’t think of what it could be.

YOU: maybe its something with a case?

SPENCE <3: They would tell me if it was that, right?

YOU: ur right

YOU: if you cant think of it with that big beautiful brain its probably something to do with them

There’s a solid minute of silence before he texts you back, and you grin to yourself as you walk through the halls. You can see the flush growing over his face in your mind’s eye, the way he does every time you pay him a cheesy compliment.

SPENCE <3: I guess so. They won’t tell me anything about it, which is strange.

You frown a little, imagining his frustration at being out of the loop. Spencer has expressed his love for his coworkers to you many times, but he’s also told you about his struggles feeling like the ‘baby’ of the office, and the way it makes him feel isolated at times. Racking your brain to think of a way to cheer him up, you check the time on your watch (the twin of which is settled on Spencer’s wrist).

YOU: its nearly 6

YOU: if i leave my building now i can make it to your office in 30mins

YOU: i can pick you up and we could get thai for dinner

YOU: ?

The reply is instantaneous, and you smile, looking forward to seeing him earlier than you’d expected today.

SPENCE <3: That sounds great. I’m finishing up here but text me when you’re in the lobby and I’ll come down.

SPENCE <3: I need to go, I’ve been texting you from the bathroom.

SPENCE <3: See you soon :-)

The last half hour of Spencer’s workday flies by, unlike the way the clock had crawled previously. He finishes up the consults he was working on for the day, and begins packing up the moment the clock hits 18:27.

Derek and Elle are still sneaking glances at him, but Spencer couldn’t care less at this point. As he closes the flap of his satchel, his phone buzzes in his breast pocket. He can’t help but whip out his phone immediately, missing the bewildered looks that pass between his fellow profilers as he smiles down at the screen.

Y/N L/N: in the lobby now!

Y/N L/N: i forgot how fancy it is here i feel underdressed

He doesn’t bother replying, instead opting to leave the bullpen through the glass doors, nodding at Derek and Elle, and pressing the elevator button immediately. He’s so engrossed in his thoughts as he stares at the closed doors, that he realises far too late what’s happening behind him.

He can hear the sounds of shuffling feet, a squeak of surprise (Penelope), hissed insult (Elle to Derek), and a firm clearing of a throat (Hotch). After sighing rather petulantly, Spencer turns on his heels to find the entire BAU team standing there, faces just as confusing as they’ve been all day.

“I’d ask you what’s wrong, but none of you gave me an answer the last 23 times I asked, so.”

There’s a beat of silence, before Hotch, of all people, says, “Reid, we need to… ask you something. About last Friday.” That’s strange. Spencer cocks his head in confusion.

“What about it? I already told Morgan and Gideon, I was feeling sick, but it turns out it was just that I’d just drank more than I was used to.”

Penelope looks like she’s about to burst, and finally, she blurts it out, voice slightly shrill. “Reid! Who is she?”

“Who is who?”

Derek butts in, a hand on Penelope’s shoulder. “Kid, that girl. The girl you were… close to, on Friday. At the bar?” Oh. That’s what they’re talking about?

“That was Y/N. My girlfriend. Are you mad I didn’t introduce you guys? I thought you were all busy.”

Spencer sees six sets of jaws drop. There’s more silence, before JJ croaks out, “Girlfriend?”

It’s a bit of a sight, to be honest. Penelope has clutched on to Derek, and Derek on to Elle. JJ looks gobsmacked, eyes bulging out of their sockets. Even Hotch and Gideon look the most shocked Spencer has ever seen them. But why?

“Uh, yeah. She came to see me because we’d had plans before we decided to go out. Then when she found out I felt sick we went home.��

Gideon looks a little green, and when no one makes a sound, Hotch speaks, his normally stoic voice coming out a little shaky. “Reid, we didn't- We didn’t know you were seeing anybody.”

What? Now they’re being even weirder. Spencer can hear the elevator doors open behind him, but he doesn’t bother. This is something he has to get to the bottom of.

“How did you not know? I’m sure I’ve mentioned having plans with her multiple times. Elle, I told you about the time I went to the movies in New York with her, when we were on that case.” Elle looks more shocked, if that’s possible, but doesn’t say a word.

“Garcia, I asked you to help me find florists that have Gibraltar campions in Vegas that one time.” Penelope jolts, muttering under her breath about ‘idiot geniuses and their mothers’.

“Gideon, I asked you for advice on how to ask her out!” Gideon stiffens, remembering the time Spencer had asked him about his ex-wife. Was that Spencer asking for advice?

“I ran into you, JJ and Morgan, when I was with her, don’t you remember? She was in the aisle over” Derek distinctly remembers a time at the bookstore, they’d seen Spencer, but not noticed anyone with him. JJ shamefully recalls being too busy making fun of Spencer’s heart-studded tie to look around.

Spencer looks bewildered, eyes bouncing between the different members of his team.

“Hotch, I literally told you about her! When I added her to my emergency contacts?” At this, Hotch pales. A year ago, Spencer had come to him with a request to change his 1st emergency contact from his mother to a Y/N L/N. How he never registered that this was a girlfriend, Hotch would never know, but he stares fixedly at his shoes as he contemplates quitting his job as a profiler.

Spencer looks at them, mystified. How did they not know? It’s not like he was ever hiding you! Of course, Spencer wanted to keep you to himself, so he didn’t talk about you that much, but they were profilers. He assumed they’d known, and just didn't want to embarrass him.

His phone buzzes three times, and he pulls it out to see more texts from you.

Y/N L/N: spence are you coming

Y/N L/N: a guy in a suit is eyeing me weird

Y/N L/N: he knows i dont belong come save me

A happy sigh leaves him, before he remembers the people standing in front of him, still gobsmacked. He scrubs a hand down his face wearily, and mutters slowly, as if he’s not sure if he wants to do this.

“She’s downstairs right now, we were going to take the metro home together. Do you… Do you guys want to meet her?” Penelope brightens up, and the rest of the team seem in higher spirits, despite their continued disappointment in themselves. Warily, Spencer opens the elevator door with a press of a button, and they all file in obediently.

“Please don’t be weird.”

“My good doctor, I would never!” He eyes Garcia with a fearful expression, but presses the ground floor button anyway. As the doors close, a strangled shout leaves JJ’s mouth.

“Wait, you live together?”

You are sitting on a bench inside the lobby of the FBI Headquarters. No matter how many times you drop Spencer off or pick him up, this will always be surreal to you. And, right now, it’s not just surreal, it’s a little scary.

A real Danny Ocean type guy is sitting on a bench across the room, talking on the phone and eyeing you. Clearly, you don’t exactly look like an agent, you know that. Dressed in the uniform of a PhD student, jeans and an oversized Doctor Who t-shirt (Spencer’s), you know that you look out of place.

You’re just hoping Spencer walks out of the elevator before you get escorted out on suspicions that you’re a spy or something.

Like some deity has heard your words, you look up at the ding of the elevator to see Spencer… and a whole gaggle of people behind him, slapping at his shoulders and barraging him with questions. He looks harried, a line between his pretty eyes.

The line disappears, though, when he locks eyes with you. His eyes light up, and his steps grow in length, before he's left his entourage behind, at least for a couple of seconds.

He uses this time to explain to you: “Hi, hello, I'm so glad you're here and I need to tell you something-” As if on instinct, your hands come up to rest on his upper arms, thumbs moving in circles soothingly as he continues to ramble, only catching the tail end of his sentence.

“-and well, they didn't know about you somehow? Which is crazy to me because you know I don't hide you so I don't know where they got that from but either way they were acting crazy, so I suggested they come meet you, and…” The group of people you now recognize to be the BAU have caught up to him, eyes darting between your face and Spencer's. His shoulders slump, and the agitated look returns, if a little less intense.

“Well, here they are.” He motions to the group behind him. “These are my coworkers, Jennifer Jareau, Elle Greenaway, Penelope Garcia, Aaron Hotchner, Jason Gideon, and Derek Morgan. Guys, this is my girlfriend, Y/N.”

Rising on your toes to see over his shoulder, you wave with a smile, eyes zeroing in on Penelope Garcia, who looks like she's vibrating from excitement, shouldering past Spencer to hold both of your hands.

“Hi! It's so good to meet you! I'd say I've heard a lot about you, but you know that's a lie, we didn't realize you existed until 10 minutes ago, but oh my god! You're here! You're so pretty- Spencer, she's so pretty!” She's practically bouncing up and down, causing Spencer to laugh sheepishly.

“Yeah, Garcia, I know that.” The next few minutes are a barrage of introductions and handshakes, all so brief that you can only get quick first impressions of them all.

Penelope is incredibly kind, not letting go of your hands until Spencer pries her off of you, telling you that you have to come out on girl's night with us, exactly like Spencer described her.

Elle is nearly intimidatingly cool, giving you a handshake and a smile, mentioning that she likes your eyeliner.

Aaron (Hotch? You're not sure how to refer to him) is nowhere near as stoic and intimidating as Spencer makes him out to be, breaking into a smile as he introduces himself, and grinning even wider when you congratulate him and his wife on their newborn child.

JJ is the sweetest. You've heard a lot about Spencer's best friend, and she lives up to expectations, squeezing you into a chaste hug with warm words.

Gideon is a little terrifying. He gives you a handshake, quirking the side of his lips in what you assume to be a smile, but saying very little beyond an introduction. You know how highly Spencer thinks of him, and hope he will warm up to you (Spencer is over the moon that he smiled, and informs you later that Gideon loved you).

Derek is exactly how you expected him to be. Somehow, he makes you feel wholly comfortable after a single comment, and promises to regale you with all the Spencer stories you'd want (you see him punch Spencer in the arm, grinning and saying he approved).

Spencer pulls you away from them as quick as he can, citing your dinner plans as an excuse. He slings an arm around your waist, leading you out the door as you wave over your shoulder.

“It was great to meet you guys! We should go out to dinner or something!” You hear mixed shouts of agreement from behind you, before the doors shut and it's just you and Spencer, on the sidewalk outside the building.

It's butterfly-inducing, the way you can see the tension leave his shoulders when he turns to look down at you, brown eyes shining.

“I'm sorry that was so last-minute, I know they can be… a lot.” You giggle at the weariness in his tone, resting your forearms on his shoulders.

“They were really nice, Spence. I'm glad to finally meet them. They didn't know who I was?” He sighs, hands tightening slightly on your waist.

“I don't know what goes on with them half the time. I've told them things about you so many times, but they were just being dense, I suppose. They saw us on Friday, at O’ Keefe’s, and they had no idea I was seeing someone!” He bends to rest his forehead in the crook of your neck with a sigh. As if on instinct, your hands come up to play with his hair.

“I guess they would have found it a little strange that you acted like nothing had changed, huh? Is that why they were being weird today?” He grumbles unintelligible words into your skin, before raising his head to look at you.

“I guess… You know I wasn't hiding you, right? I really thought they knew about you,” The earnestness on his face makes you want to implode, his thumbs rubbing minutely on your waist. Speaking would pop the bubble you've found yourselves in, so you find the best next option for you to show him your assertion.

Your hands roam up his neck to cup either side of his jaw, and slow, slow, slowly, you rise to your toes and kiss him.

Suddenly, Spencer's not worried anymore.

#divas send me an ask and tell me what you thought!!!!#requests are welcome!!#reader is so self-indulgently me in this miniseries #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fic #posted from my phone bc im at the airport tell me if there are any formatting mistakes pls #mystery girl!au

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