#or why i kept it on my desktop for so long

[xinesthetic]

With the new manga chapter and Fyodor being some kind of eternal undying unholy thing I feel like this image that I've had on my pc desktop for a few years is looking more and more realistic

[the-chavoi-legacy]

I'M FINE

[ssahotchnerr]

Mom!friend reader bringing everyone cute lunches at the bau with personalized little notes for each person 😭 maybe hotch doesn’t even know that you do this for the others too so when someone mentions readers cooking, he’s like “wat”

personalized

ADORABLE cw; bau!fem!reader, established relationship, mentions of food, fluff and aaron being cute <3

the pace at which aaron was moving must've been more intense than he intended and realized; as he hurried past jj's desk, the small draft that followed caused a small piece of paper to flutter to the ground.

uttering an apology, aaron immediately reached down to pick it up. however it had landed face up, and his eyebrows furrowed in small confusion as he caught a glimpse of its contents.

your familiar handwriting kept his eyes, instead of peering away as he normally would - 'my sweet jj! thank you so much for your help on the arizona case file, you're a total lifesaver and your expertise is always appreciated, hope you know that. enjoy <3 ps - your new lavender sweater is the cutest. must plan a shopping day w/ pen soon!'

aaron's eyebrows stayed in that confused line, his eyes shifting up to jj's in a silent question.

"came with the cookies." jj answered for him, pointing her head towards the tupperware container perched on her desktop.

instantly aaron's mind made the connection - so that's why you were up late baking. that made more sense; the time you had spent baking was much too long for the small plateful quantity he had found reserved for him and jack this morning.

"pretty girl sure knows how to cook." derek added into the conversation as he approached the cluster of desks, raising his hand to pat aaron on the back but stopped himself halfway - aaron shot him a pointed look, hiding his own amusement, while jj attempted to conceal her smile with her palm.

another eyebrow furrow. "and when have you had her cooking?"

"here and there. always comes with a note too. i could just about fill a desk drawer with how many i have." derek admitted, with his signature, vivid grin. "she may be yours, we get special treatment too, y'know."

a bit later, you strolled into aaron's office, juggling numerous files in your hands.

"as requested," you started, dropping them firmly onto aaron's desk. "five action reports, minus dave's. he told me when you're as experienced and italian as he is, you can slack off and kinda get away with it. but i think that's his fancy way of admitting he's old." you joked with a eye roll.

"thank you," aaron flashed you a smile, sorting through his current papers. assuming that was all, you spun on your heel to head out and return to the everlasting joy of paperwork, but, aaron's voice stopped you.

"hey hold it, c'mere a sec."

you pulled back one of the chairs in front of hiss desk, the legs producing a scraping noise against the floorboards, but aaron gestured for you to come around. your eyes darted in the direction of his open blinds, then back at him. 'you sure?'

aaron nodded in confirmation. and if you needed any more convincing, once in reach you were pulled onto his lap, his hold on you tight.

if he wasn't being a stickler on the open affection, neither were you; you relaxed yourself against him just as you would normally, your body melting into his and throwing your arms loosely around his neck. "what's up?"

"i didn't know you wrote the team notes."

"oh," you laughed softly, with a light shake of your head. by habit your fingers ran along the skin of aaron's neck, scratching the nape of his hair gently. "yeah, if i bring in lunch or a treat or something. or both. or sometimes just because. an appreciation reminder."

aaron nodded, his fingers drumming against your hip comfortably.

"that's not a problem, is it?"

"well," aaron pretended to think, his hand changing motions and sliding up and down your side, "yes."

"actually?" you blurted as your own fingers paused. that wasn't the answer you expected, and it caused a rush of nervous heat to pool within you. until, you saw the feigned, solemn expression on his face.

aaron peered down at you, his playful eyes canceling out the forced pout on his lips. under his breath, he mumbled humorously, "i thought i was the only one getting notes."

you laughed brightly, the joy within the sound immediately bringing a smile to aaron's lips. "oh don't worry, they don't get the lipstick smooch on theirs. that's reserved for you and you only."

"i would hope not."

"or the, occasional... explicitness."

"again, i would hope not." aaron laughed again. his lips graced your temple, lingering gently as he spoke, "you're sweet."

"a very wise, very attractive person once said, 'people need to know they're important'." your lips quirked into a loving smile, a glint in your eyes. "thought this would be an easy way - i learned from the best."

[daydreams-after-dark]

Good things come in small packages

Part 1 | Part 2

Pairing: Mini Han x fem reader

Synopsis: One year ago you purchased a ‘miniature companion’ named Hannie. He’s the size of a Ken doll but alive and horny. But something unexpected happens on your one year anniversary.

Word count: approx 2k

A/n: Hey!!! It's finally here! My Mini Han oneshot (posted in a couple of instalments because I get too excited to share). The idea for Mini Han was born through a conversation with my girl @noellllslut (we always have the most unhinged thoughts). Then I wrote a little "imagining" here (which I’ve incorporated into this fic anyway, so you don’t have to read), which then sparked quite a bit curiosity amongst you sweet/filthy readers. Questions came, and I felt compelled to explore more of this theme.

I hope you enjoy this little fic. It's sweet and smutty, and as I kept writing, I fell in love with our dear y/n and Mini Hannie. I want one for myself tbh.

CW below the cut

CW: supernatural themes, oral sex, sexual acts, sexual themes, voyeurism

You've had your miniature human, Hannie, for almost a year?! You realize, sitting at your work desk as you look at your desktop calendar. You smile and make a note to organize a celebration for just the two of you, and to buy a cheesecake for dessert. Hannie loves cheesecake. Your smile grows. He always manages to get it all over him, then wants to get it all over you so he can lick it off you.

One year this coming weekend. It feels like time has flown, yet at the same time it feels like he’s been part of your life forever. Your heart bursts as you think back to how it all came to be.

You had been lonely. You'd broken up with your long term boyfriend and was feeling sad one night. So you went online to doom scroll, and online shop. You expected you'd end up down a rabbit hole of cat memes and be $500 down in shoe purchases, but instead an ad appeared on your screen.

"Miniature human companions" it said, with images of very attractive men. Miniature men. Were they human? Couldn't be. Were they robots? Probably. They must be really expensive to make which is why they are so small, you'd decided.

You were intrigued, so you researched the company, finding that this new type of 'companion' utilizes cutting edge technology that simulates actual human behavior and bodily functions.

By 4am you'd chosen your companion. His name was Han. He was adorable and attractive, with fluffy black hair and pouty lips, and from the personality trait notes, he sounded like a lot of fun.

"Pay Now". You can still remember the feeling of excitement that ran through you as hit the button to complete your purchase.

When he arrived, he came in a box with air holes, which you found kind of weird considering he didn't actually breathe oxygen. You set the box on your kitchen table, took a deep breath and lifted the lid. You gasped as you peered inside.

A little man, about the size of a Ken doll, sat on a blanket eating miniature crisps out of a miniature chip bag.

"Oh hello!" he looked up at you. "Are you my Noona?" he waved excitedly.

Holy fucking shit. You almost fainted as you stumbled to sit down on a dining chair.

You knew he was meant to talk, but he just seemed so real as he chewed his food then licked the seasoning off his lips like he could actually taste it. His little chest moved with his breath, like he was really breathing. Could he do everything a human can do? You wondered.

"My name’s Hannie." He said standing up and brushing the crumbs off his trousers.

"Um...I-I'm Y/n..." you stuttered, trying to process what you were witnessing,

"You're really pretty, Y/n." He beamed up at you with a gummy grin.

You prepared him a little space of his own, with a makeshift bed, clothing that you had also ordered from the company you purchased him from, and bought a set of Barbie sized cups, plates and furniture. You even bought him a Barbie Dreamhouse to live in, but he preferred to just climb up your full sized furniture and use that.

You studied the information manual that came with him and learned that he could in fact, experience life just as a human did. He needed to eat, sleep, wash, poop. Oh and he could get erections and ejaculate. Wow!

Over the next weeks and months you'd gotten yourselves into a routine, and became really close. He was your best friend. You did everything together, mostly staying at home. You assumed he was some sort of AI, and that's why you got along so well, but the longer he was with you, the more his own interests came to the surface. Like singing and Anime.

He helped you bake, often getting himself covered in flour and other ingredients. You'd watch movies together. Most nights you'd lay on the couch and he'd lay face down on your chest while you watched your favorites. Sometimes you'd feel him get hard against the curve of your breast, and you'd think inappropriate thoughts about him. You'd grow wet between your legs and wish he was able to touch you.

He loved it when you’d brush his hair with a tiny little hairbrush and sit him on your benchtop in the bathroom when you’re getting ready for the day. You know he loved it when you forgot he was there one time and you took a shower in front of him. He got so hard watching you soap up your body.

Sometimes you'd take him out on a picnic somewhere secluded near the ocean so he could freely move about the picnic blanket without fear of being seen. Or he'd sneak into your work bag and scare the shit out of you when you were working.

In the early days, you'd occasionally go on dates with actual men. Mostly to take your mind of your growing feelings for Hannie. You'd bring them home and fuck them in your bed, knowing he was somewhere watching, listening. You'd imagine him getting hard from your noises, and it made you moan even louder just picturing it. You'd imagine it was Hannie inside you too, pounding hard into your cunt, and making you come on his cock.

He was distant with you in the days after. He’d sit around sulking and pouting.

"What's wrong, Hannie?" You asked him after he’d ignored you for three days.

"Noona... it's just…I get so jealous of them." He burst into tears. "I want to do things like that to you. I want to the be the one who makes you come." He sobbed.

Things changed after that. You no longer went out with other men, and you and your miniature companion began to explore a more physical, more sexual, relationship.

From letting you see each other naked, to mutual masturbation, to eventually touching each other and making each other come.

You soon learned that even though Hannie is small, he is extremely talented with his mouth, and he can make you come harder than anyone had ever before.

One morning he noticed that you were still asleep, and very naked. The way you were laying, legs splayed out looked so inviting to him. You’d kicked your blanket off at some point. He couldn’t help himself.

You woke up to a sensation between your legs, and when you looked down you saw him kneeling between your your legs, using his arms to push your pussy lips open and doing his very best to lap at your clit.

“Hannie?” You whimpered. He stopped for a moment to stand up and wave at you, the entire front of his body dripping with your arousal. “I’ve just found my favorite thing to do!” He said enthusiastically and then he was back to being buried against your pussy.

These days, at night time he’ll climb up onto your chest while you’re lying in bed watching videos on your phone. He still loves to nestle against the bulge of your breasts, especially if you’re in a loose satin camisole, and he’ll slide himself under the fabric.

“What do you want to watch, Hannie?” You’ll ask him.

“Porn!” He’ll answer excitedly. The phone is like a giant screen to him and it’s never long before you feel him shimmying his clothes off and rubbing his little swollen erection against your skin.

He’s such a desperate little thing that you let him do whatever he needs to get himself off. Often, he’ll rub his cock along your bottom lip while he humps your tits, or he’ll scramble to suck on your nipple. He does his best to stretch his mouth around it, while he grinds against you and cumming on your soft skin. Then he’ll pass out right there. Poor little tyke gets himself tired.

Some of the kinkier things he gets you to do include tying him up and edging him until his cock becomes so painfully red and engorged that he’s crying. His naked body is delicious to look at, and you love to run the pad of your index finger over his muscles. He’s perfectly toned, his skin honey brown, and his cock is mouth-wateringly big for his frame.

He’s rendered helpless as you stroke your finger gently up and down his body. Then, using the tip of your tongue, you lick his cock carefully whilst shoving your pinky finger into his mouth.

There are times when you’ll dress up in lingerie covered in buckles and straps and he’ll climb up your body like he’s doing some kind of adventure hike. He gets so sweaty and very hard as he explores the terrain of your body.

He really is the perfect companion.

You are broken from your thoughts by your alarm signaling it's time to go home from work, and you hurry home to see your Hannie.

_____________

"Fuck! Hannie! Please... need to come...need one more...please. Don't stop." You pant. It's later that evening, and you're on the verge of your third orgasm with Hannie between your thighs sucking expertly on your clit. He's got your lips spread open as far as he can manage, and he's grinding against your core seeking his own release. Inside your pussy you've got your vibrator egg on full intensity. "Yes!!! Yes...coming!!!" You cry as you arch off the bed as you come all over him.

He quickly climbs up your body, almost slipping off because he’s covered in so much of your cream, and kneels on your chest to pump his cock until he’s spurting cum onto your tongue.

“Tastes so good, Hannie.” You show him your empty tongue, but he’s already collapsed across your body.

You clean him up and put him in his striped pajamas, before you both nestle into bed. You’re used to him sleeping on the pillow next to you now, although it took you a while to stop worrying you’d roll on him in the night.

“Noona? Did you know that tomorrow it’ll be one year since I came here?” He says sleepily.

You roll onto your side and smile. “Yes, actually I do, honey. Have a think about what you’d like to do to celebrate, okay. Anything you want."

He nods. “Yeah, I’ll think about it. But just so you know, it’ll involve me being buried in your pussy.”

————-

Han laid back on the pillow. What would he like to do to celebrate? He’d love to celebrate by being inside you. Properly. Fully.

He wishes he could do the things he'd seen those men you’d do to you all those months ago. To pin your legs up and fuck you so hard the bed would shake. He takes his mind back to when he’d hide on your shelf and watch, fucking into his hand and holding back tears of despair.

What would it be like to bend you over and fuck you from behind? What would it even be like to fuck you at all? He wants to know so bad.

But he does have a special relationship with you, he supposes. Not every guy has to stretch his mouth around a nipple or clit like he has to. Can those men be covered head to toe in your juices? Or lay completely across the bulge of your boob. No. They can’t. Only he can.

He pouts to himself.

He knows he’s got it good, you are his everything. But as he lays on the pillow next you and closes his eyes, he wonders if he’s enough for you? Could you give up real men forever, with real sized cocks that can stretch you out and fill you deep? Would you be okay with never having a boyfriend you could take out in public, or take to family events, or be seen with?

Could you settle for him? A miniature version of a man?

He sighs. "Goodnight, Noona. Love you." He whispers as he leans over and gives your giant lips a kiss.

"Goodnight, my sweet Hannie. I love you too." you reply sleepily.

As he drifts off to sleep he wishes what he always wishes. That he could be human sized and be with you like a proper human.

-----------

The morning sun peeks through your window, landing on your face and causing you to stir. You groan and try to stretch, but a heaviness across your middle keeps you in place. You peer down to find a man's arm wrapped around you, snuggling you tight.

Fear courses through your body, and you scream as you fling the arm off and jump out bed. You grab your lamp, ready to hit the intruder.

"Noona?" The man lifts his head, his dark locks falling around his face.

Your eyes almost pop out of your head when you see the confused look on his face. "Hannie!?" You choke, hands poised to strike.

"Noona? What are you doing?" he peers down at the pillow his head had been resting on, and then down the bed toward his feet. "Why is your bed so small?"

"Hannie?" You whisper, lowering the lamp, letting it drop to the floor.

"Why is everything so small? Wait. Why am I naked? Noona, have you been playing with me in my sleep?" He looks up at you confused and worried. "Noona, why are you looking at me like that?"

His eyes land on his pajamas, torn to shreds next to him. He picks up the scrap of fabric that was his pajama top, and his eyes widen. "Why are my clothes so tiny?"

"Hannie," you take in the man before you, naked and taking up most of the bed. "You're big."

To be continued…

@channieandhisgoonsquad @noellllslut @itsseohannbin @weareapackofstrays @3rachasdomesticbanana @palindrome969 @xxkissesforchanniexx @chuuchuu1224 @fun-fanfics @rhonnie23 @jisunglyricist @strayywayy @armystay89 @igetcarriedawaywithyou @mylittleponeypinkrosieposie @kyunchoni @justforreaders @melochacco @scenuniverse @oddracha @ismokeeweed @galaxycatdrawz @jiminssluttyminx @teddy-stay @kayleefriedchicken @imperfectlyperfectprincess1

[simpxxstan]

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!

[telesilla]

Not gonna go out on this limb on a 25k post, but maybe it’s okay that kids today don’t know as much about using an actual computer as we do/did? Is it useful knowledge? Of course it is. So is using a sewing machine or being able to rebuild your VW with a copy of that one book every VW driver used to have. That’s not the right question—most practical knowledge is useful after all. The question should be “is it relevant to the way people live right now.” “How to Keep Your VW Alive” is a timeless fucking classic; my ex and I kept our copy long after he sold his VW. But I’m not buying a copy now because it won’t exactly help me keep my VW ID4 on the road.

And it’s funny, because I tend to read along with those posts and nod my head, because back in my day we HAD to know all that computer stuff. And then for some reason today, I remembered a conversation my mom and I had with my grandma in the mid 70s when I was a teenager. Grandma made my mom’s wedding dress. She worked at a department store doing alterations on foundation wear, which if you look at 1950s foundation wear, you’ll realize was both necessary and difficult. So she was shocked when I said most of my friends didn’t know their way around a sewing machine. “But how do you make sure your clothes fit?!” Well, Grandma, people don’t wear heavy foundation wear any more and clothes don’t need to be as tailored as they did back in the day—it’s 1975 and the only alterations I need to do is hemming my flares so they just touch the floor when I’m wearing platforms.

Now you can back up and look at the broader picture, the one that says, but your car should be repairable by you as long as you have clear instructions, and you should be able to alter your clothes or make your own, and yes, you should know how to organize the files on the desktop of your laptop. But the fact that for the most part it’s become easier and easier to just not do those things (if they can be done at all) isn’t exactly the fault of Kids Today. And it’s certainly not meeting them where they are or even trying to understand why they feel they don’t need that knowledge if, instead of looking at why they don’t have it and maybe even don’t need it, you just decry their lack of the Deep Wisdom.

[idesofrevolution]

Precursor

"Jesus, Danny I don't know what the fuck to do about it, okay? He just fuckin' got me out of no where." Click, clack. Click, clack. The tapping of his fingers on the mouse and keyboard were the only sounds echoing in the dark room aside from his shouts. "Well, I how the fuck should I know? I told you I wasn't good at this game! You're the one who kept begging me to play it, and it's bullshit dude!" For a game that was supposed to be this fun phenomenon, 'Precursor' was proving to be quite a bit lesser than Greg anticipated. Danny had begged him for weeks to join the game and do a couple of rounds with him, if only to get him hooked. For Greg, a video game was like Civilization or Cities Skylines... building something great with strategy and creativity. To him, this was a boring shoot 'em up that had a steep learning curve, and it was grating on his nerves. "Well, dude I told you I didn't know how to play this stupid game but you wouldn't take no for an answer!"

Another red screen and the words 'Exterminated' were sprawled across the screen. Greg slammed his fists down onto the desk, spilling his Red Bull all over his lap. He threw his head back in yet another defeat, his seventh in the span of an hour. Looking down at his phone, the late hour had all but caused him even further grief.

"You know what, dude? This game fucking sucks. I don't know why you wanted me to play with you." Danny, surely kicking ass on the battlefront from somewhere behind his screen in Oklahoma hundreds of miles away, was less than enthused. "Ya know what, fine. I will do the fucking noob lobby, okay? I swear to God, though, if this shit doesn't get fun in ten minutes I'm loggin' off." Greg disconnected from his online pal and reentered back into the main menu. He sighed, how the fuck could anyone without a trigger-happy index finger and a desire to think about their options for more than a split second find this game fun? To him, it was all reflexes and no brain power. Clicking through the main menu, he searched for the "Noob" lobby in the available servers. He scrolled for an agonizing ten seconds of full lobbies before he gave up.

"Man, fuck this." He was a single moment away from clicking that exit button before his elbow slipped on some of the Red Bull that had spilled onto the desktop. His wrist banged onto the keys, leaving a string of gibberish into the searchbar. He grabbed one of his clean socks from the floor and sopped up the syrupy water and tossed it behind him over his shoulder. Whatever. Turning back to his screen, to his utter astonishment, the search for 'pjdkluyoikms' had come up with a single hit: 3/9 players in the lobby. Greg looked down at his phone again, 3:30 in the morning grimaced back at him. He'd have to be up in 4 hours if he'd kept the job he quit a few days prior, but with unemployment looming over his head the hours didn't seem so important to him. The game was known for being a time void, sucking in every available minute it's players had to use.

"Fuck it." He clicked join, and waited as the lobby began to load. For a second, his monitor became severely pixelated, but quickly returned to normal. Before long, he was met with the game mode selection and a couple of voices chatting amongst the static. Bruiser, Scout, Sniper, Runner, Bomber... He didn't know how to use a single one of these characters and in the back of his mind, he wasn't keen on being embarrassed yet again for another hour of failures.

"Who's this?" One of the voices from the ether bellowed out from his headphones, and for whatever reason his skin flushed with goosebumps. "Yo, new guy, did you mean to come here? It's a private server."

"Ahh, shit. I'm sorry, my friend made me buy this game and I don't know what I'm doing. I'll find another, my bad!" Greg scampered to try and just choose a character so he could exit out of the menu, but a second voice gave him immediate pause. It was unlike the other players he'd met so far, in that he wasn't a complete dick right off the bat.

"Nahh, it's cool! We could use a runner this round if you're down? We can take it easy, right boys?" His voice was smooth, chill, if not a bit high pitched in a tenor timbre. The guy could have a career in anime protagonist voice acting if he'd put his mind to it, Greg was quickly put at ease with just a single word.

"You think he can keep up?" the third voice, husky and deep questioned.

"We've played with worse, bro. Remember Clive before Mick got to him? We lost four rounds before Mick got it to stick! He won't fuck up, will ya new guy?" Greg nervously chuckled, knowing full well he'd be terrible in the beginning either way.

"Uhhhh, give me a round or two to get the hang of it... I'm sure I can do it. Nothing better to do anyway."

"That's the spirit! See? He's gonna be great. I'll get him up to snuff." A fall of silence came over the server, Greg shifted in his seat. "Alright, newbie. Just choose runner and I got your back. I used to main runner, so I can show you the ropes." Taking a deep breath, Greg clicked on the avatar for Runner, and hit accept. He entered the lobby, seeing the three players had already chosen their avatars. 1: lostdestiny (scout), 2: EdgeRunner (bruiser), 3: ironclad (bomber), and now 4: Greg (runner).

ironclad: I take it you're Greg, then?

Greg: What gave it away?

The three others chuckled, and the loadbar began to fill. Greg could feel the anxiety and anticipation grow within him. He was about to faceplant AGAIN, and in front of these strangers. At least it wouldn't be long until he'd be kicked anyway.

EdgeRunner: Aight, listen up man. I can't be a babysitter, but I'll be following you. Just do what I tell you to do and you'll be fine. You got this, man. Yeah?

Greg: Uh, yeah man. I'll do my best.

lostdestiny: Don't worry guys, he's gonna do his best.

EdgeRunner: Pipe down, will ya, Des? Fuck. Alright, here we go. Lay low and let them come out on their own.

The four of them were dumped onto the map, this one seemed to be some dirty Cyberpunk city in the rain. Sooner rather than later, it'd be a warzone. Greg sat gobsmacked, frozen in place as the others ran for cover.

ironclad: Yo, get to cover, they'll be here any fuckin' second!

Greg: Whuh.... What do I do, where do I go?

EdgeRunner: Turn to your left, there's a hidden door in the bodega. Hold shift and run. Go!

Greg did as he was told, holding down the shift bar and going toward the store on the corner of the street. He was unprepared for just how quickly he would get there, running straight into the wall to the left of the door. Runner indeed. Rounding the doorway, he snuck down the aisles, and up to the door. He burst in, plowing through stacked boxes and into the racks of the storeroom.

EdgeRunner: Aight, you can let go of the shift, bud.

lostdestiny: Fuck, we're so screwed. We lose out on this one it's on you Edge, and I'm not coughin' up a single coin.

EdgeRunner: Des, hit your fuckin' vape and keep your eyes peeled. I'll worry about the new kid. Greg, hang tight. Wait for me to give you a signal, then you run to the hotel down the street. Got it?

Greg chuckled to himself, he'd stumbled into quite the little gang. These guys were far from noobs, they were good if not professionals. From behind the closed door, he sat idly, waiting with bated breath for Edge to give him the unmentioned word. Over his headphones, he could hear the trio plotting as if they were soldiers planning their attack.

EdgeRunner: Iron, be position. They're gonna come barreling down that alley like a fuckin' stampede, so nuke 'em until I can get there. Des, they in sight yet?

lostdestiny: Just like you said, boss man. Comin' in hot.

EdgeRunner: Perfect. Greg. There's a glowing purple crate in the corner. Open it and pick up whatever is in it, and do it quick.

Greg fumbled over the keys, searching the dark room until he saw the glowing purple box hidden beneath a pile of trash. Clicking on it, the box opened, shucking all the garbage atop it onto the floor. Inside sat a strange green vial.

Greg: Its... It's a glass syringe? Glowing green stuff inside.

EdgeRunner: That's what you're looking for. Bag it and get ready to run.

Greg slipped it into his bag. The syringe showed up as 'upgrade' in the inventory, but no other information was provided. Usually, at least, there was some sort of witty description for the items in-game. Might be modded, he thought to himself, not that he would know anyway. He positioned himself by the door, holding his breath.

ironclad: Fireworks.

EdgeRunner: Now, Greg. Go!

His left pinky firmly planted on the shift key, Greg burst out of the door, through the store and into the street. Outside, a barrage of AI cop grunts were surrounding the building across the way. Pillars of smoke and fire erupted from bombs being dropped from the roof, a massive lug of muscle being the culprit with Ironclad's red tag hovering above him. From within the crowd, an explosion of grunts flew through the air, and dead in the center of the action was EdgeRunner, a maxxed out avatar oozing athleticism and strength with a nearly full level bar floating above him. Fuck, who were these guys?

EdgeRunner: Don't fuckin' freeze on us, Greg. Run!

Taking the hint, Greg bolted down the street, weaving past smoke bombs and gunfire until he made it to the hotel's revolving door, shattering the glass as he crashed through. Inside, three grunts stood behind the front desk, quickly pulling out absurdly massive guns.

Greg: Edge, there's guys in here, they got big ass motherfucking guns too.

EdgeRunner: Fuck, okay. Hold control, shift, and Y. Then run to the elevator. Do it before they peg ya!

Greg: Fuck!

EdgeRunner: Iron, toss a few into the hotel. Help the kid out.

ironclad: On it.

Greg could hear the whistling in the air of the incoming bombs flying toward the lobby. He held down the keys and ran toward the elevators as instructed. Though, as he did, waves of colors surrounded his avatar, deflecting the bullets as they flew before the explosions behind him came bursting in. As the elevator doors closed in front of him, he saw the XP points flowing into his bar from the dead grunts. The elevator began to climb.

EdgeRunner: Woooooooooo baby! That's what I call a bait n switch! Kid, you're a natural.

lostdestiny: Beginner's luck.

EdgeRunner: It's gonna be a second before that elevator gets to the top level. Regroup at the hotel, they'll be swarming him. Des, you're on the 99th floor, right?

lostdestiny: Best view in the city.

EdgeRunner: Keep watch, we'll be there in a second. New guy will be on your floor in a couple of minutes. Greg, let's do a one-on-one, yeah?

On the screen, a side window popped up in the bottom corner. Incoming call: EdgeRunner 1 on 1. Fuck, was this guy trying to video chat?

Greg: Uhhhh, I didn't know you could cam...

EdgeRunner: What, you ain't jackin' off are ya? C'mon lemme see.

Greg waited for a moment, nervous beyond words. Watch it be some 60 year old gaming in his mom's basement, was this really the kind of guy he'd want to game with anyway? The curiosity had only crept up since he stumbled into the server, it's not as if they were meeting in real life or anything. It's a screen. He nodded to himself, as if to give himself permission, and clicked on the accept button. In the corner box, EdgeRunner himself popped into focus.

Not what he expected whatsoever. He wasn't much older than Greg, maybe late twenties, early thirties. That was a relief. His room was shrouded in a blue hue, pairing nicely with his ID tag color in game. He was covered in ink from the forehead down, with white hair and a nice pair of pecs cropped just out of view. Again, far from what he expected to see.

"What's up, Greggo?" He smirked, as if studying Greg from behind his lens.

"Yeah... In an elevator. On my computer." Edge laughed, taking his eye contact away to refocus on his game.

"Playin' pretty fuckin' well so far. You sure you never played before now?" Greg found himself blushing a tad bit at this hunk of a man, alarmingly similar to the stud avatar he portrayed online. "Might have to keep you around if you keep up at this rate." The ping of the elevator reaching the 99th floor brought him right back into the world, as the doors opened to a tall, lanky guy with his back to him.

"Des, I presume?"

lostdestiny: Who the fuck else would it be? Mommie? Get to the loot at the end of the hall, fifth door on the right.

"Des isn't the sweetest fruit in the basket. Don't mind him. But get to the room as quick as you can, bud." Holding down the shift key yet again, though now as if it were second nature to him, he bolted down the hall, dodging the mines which littered the floor. "Yeah, don't be up in your feelings about it, but the upgrade is for you, kid. If I were you, I'd take it now while you can. Get you on our level quicker, if ya catch my drift." Greg didn't think twice. He opened the inventory, clicked on the vial, and hit use. His avatar quickly pulled out the syringe from off screen, jamming it into his wrist. The liquid quickly flowed into his avatar, but changes were slow. He arrived at the door, opening them to a boardroom overlooking the whole city, bathed in a purple hue.

Greg: What am I looking for exactly?

ironclad: You'll know it when you see it. Find it quick, they're coming up.

As Greg began to search through the shelves and drawers lining the walls, he was too preoccupied to notice the veins of black starting to flow from his fingertips up his limber arms. While he may have been too focused to see, Edge was watching eagerly in the bottom corner with a giant grin forming on his face. His little window closed, leaving Greg in his search.

lostdestiny: Incoming. Edge, would be a really fuckin' great time for you to pull some fuckshit about now!

Explosions rung out in the hallway, and an eruption of bullets soon followed. Greg felt the pressure bearing down on him, he felt heavier, as if the weight of the situation were sitting atop him like boulders. But hidden in the darkness of his room, the black veins crawled higher and higher, across his shoulders and back, creeping up the back of his neck, until he felt a pinch right at the base of his skull. Instant headrush.

The world got blurry in a mere second, his ears started to ring and his muscles began to pulse. Though, in that moment, he felt something else swelling within him: confidence. Control, Shift, C. The boardroom went blue, a glowing yellow aura radiated from behind one of the walls. Greg smiled, bolting to the wall. Alt, D, F7. The shelves shuddered, then slowly retracted into a dark void. The payload sat at the end of a long, dark hallway on a spotlit pedestal. Some crazy mechanical contraption, it seemed. Though he didn't know what it was, he knew inherently that this is what he was looking for. Just as Iron said.

Greg: Bingo.

EdgeRunner: Careful, newbie. Watch the walls.

A single step forward, and red lasers began to shoot left and right. An hour earlier, he'd be pissing himself on an 'exterminated' screen, raging to no one but himself. Though now, as he felt the energy coursing through his body, the corner of his lip shifted upward, his brows furrowed, and he leaned forward. Showtime.

Alt, Shift, F2, Q, L... the keys flew by beneath his fingers as he dodged, rolled, and lept past every sensor. The keyboard could barely keep up as his hands danced across it. It was an invigoration he'd never experienced before, an expertise he'd never felt, a self he'd never known. Every new trap before him was a piece of cake, avoiding them before they'd even triggered. In the span of fifteen seconds, he'd arrived at the pedestal. The Carpe Diem. A major upgrade, far above his current standing, but it would fetch a pretty price for the right punk. The massive implant somehow fit in his inventory, he was thankful he wasn't on a real job, lugging this around would have been a task in and of itself.

Greg: Payload in hand. Ready to get the fuck out of here.

EdgeRunner: Gonna be a messy exit, kid. You up for it?

Greg: Don't have to flirt that nasty with me, Edge. Treat me tender.

He spun around, leaping down the entire hallway in one go. Thank you Shift, T, S. The crew stood at the door to the boardroom, perhaps a hundred grunts firing everything they had not far behind. Greg looked at every corner, and realized quickly what Edge meant. He turned around, looking at the massive glass wall overlooking Sunset City. His massive feet tapped against the wooden floor beneath his desk, itching for the run he was about to embark upon, his body begging for the rush... his muscles aching for the wind on his skin. He smirked. No second thoughts, he burst through the window.

ironclad: Fuck kid! That's one way out I guess!

EdgeRunner: Bail, boys! Let's fly.

Freefalling, Greg felt the cool breeze of his plummet on the lids of his closed eyes. Soon, but not yet. He had a job to finish. Control, Shift, C. His fall became a sprint, every footfall landing softly on the glass below, looking 99 floors straight down to the pavement.

GreWind: WOOOOOOOOOHOOOOOOO!

Exhiliration. Excitement. Freedom. He was free. Coasting on the diagonal glass, he surfed down the building until he came painlessly onto the sidewalk below, followed not too far behind by Des landing in a bush, Iron on his face, and Edge on his own two feet. The quartet sped toward the four bikes parked along the street, making their swift getaway. As Wind wiped the sweat from his brow, leaning back in his chair, letting the ripe waft of pits beam from his arms. Incoming 1 on 1 from EdgeRunner. He of course had to reem in the accolades, smiling as he hit accept. Edge popped up in the corner of the screen, beaming from ear to ear.

"Now that's what the fuck I'm talkin' about! That upgrade did ya good, new kid." Wind smirked, puckering his lips and blowing a kiss to his studly boss man.

"You can show me your appreciation later, babe. Worked up a storm for ya." Wind flexed his arms, licking the sweat from his bicep and running his hand through his bright green hair.

"Heh, yeah, you're gonna fit in just fine. This'll fetch a nice penny from the middleman. Now, whaddya say, Greg? Ready for the real work?" Edge winked and his window closed.

EdgeRunner: Rendezvous at Checkpoint's. Your cuts will be waiting for you.

Stormwind: Aye, aye Captain.

lostdestiny: Shit, you two get a room already.

EdgeRunner: Nah, you're gonna sit and watch me fuck him raw and nasty, Des.

Stormwind: Won't be the last if you're nice, Des.

ironclad: I swear, if newbie is gonna be cumdump, I'm gonna be on whatever job he's on.

Stormwind: Plenty to go around, boys. Better be ready to clean this dick and worship these feet. They run real fast for y'all and they could use a tongue bath, won't even need any poppers. Freebase, baby.

EdgeRunner: See you at Checkpoint's, Wind. Welcome to the team.

[mjolnirswriststrap]

Just Another Notch

Bucky Barnes x Plus Size F!Reader

Masterlist Part 3/?? Part 4

Word Count: 1,824

Summary: If Bucky thinks his charms will work on you, then you’re gonna put up one hell of a fight to prove him wrong.

Warnings: Nothing explicit 18+, until later chapters, read at your own discretion. Fat shaming, bully!Steve. Protective!Bruce

Training felt useless. When you made it to the simulation room, you didn’t even power up the hologram tech. You sat in the chair facing the super computer. Seeing your reflection in the monitor screen, cause tears to well in your eyes. You thought you were beautiful, when you looked in the mirror after you got dressed, you felt so confident. The look on Bucky’s face when you emerged from your room boosted that confidence tenfold. You could laugh at yourself now. How quickly things change, it’s the cosmos teasing you. Blowing a long breath out of puckered lips, you drop your forehead, landing it on the cool glass desktop. Maybe you bit off more than you can chew. Maybe you weren’t strong enough to play this kind of game.

You knew you never stepped foot in that gym for a reason. Why did you think today would be different? “You ok?” You raise up, searching the room. “Uh hello?” You say, standing up when you still don’t spot anyone. You see the top of a curly head of hair bent under a desk. Walking up to it, the gym situation leaves your mind instantly. You see Bruce folded up untangling wires underneath a desk. “What a sight.” You laugh. “Yeah, yeah, poke your fun.” He contorts himself free, standing up to press the power button on the monitor screen.

When he’s met with continued darkness, he rolls his eyes and faces you. “Your forehead.” He motions towards his own. You make eye contact with yourself in the mirrored wall behind him. Apparently you’d banged your head harder than you thought. You didn’t feel it but you saw the blood at your hairline. “Oh my.” Your eyes grew to be big like saucers.

You look at the desk to see a large crack down the center of it. “I heard you do it, that’s why I asked if you were okay.” He was looking at you with disbelief that you did that to yourself without noticing. “It didn’t hurt, don’t worry about me.” You brush him off, running to the sink in the corner to wash the blood and sweat from your face.

“I know you have a hard head, my desk though? Priceless and fragile.” He jokes, you can hear the real concern under his voice. “What happened, really?” Bruce steals your rolling chair, sitting below you, looking up intently. His big brown eyes gave you the courage to admit it. “Just the same old, same old.” You kick at one of the wheels to the chair.

“C’mon, you know it’s not good to hold it in. Let the doctor help.” He sounds playful, but you know he’s dead serious. You never considered Bruce one of the main team, so there was no reason to ice him out. He was a scientist more than anything. He spent almost one hundred percent of his time in this simulation room, save for when you both knew you’d rather be training alone. He kept you company, not in the verbal sense.

Most of the time the room was filled with the clicking of keys and hard labored breaths. You both did your own thing, over time you started appreciating each others meekness and opened up. Once you got the man talking, he never stopped. You’re sure his brain is a computer, he soaks up information and spits it back out, corrected. You knew better than to ever lie to him, he was far too smart to fall for whatever you planned to say.

“Tell me.” His smile drops and you feel yourself break a little more. “I embarrassed myself, Bruce.” You look away from his saddening eyes. They were starting to pool with pity, and that’s the last thing you want from him. “Hard to believe, but how?” He says, grabbing your wrist to keep you from running away.

With a deep breath you begin, “I went the the gym with Bucky this morning, mistake one.”. Bruce quickly interjects “Bucky? What are you doing hanging out with him?” He presses his eyebrows together, you can’t discern his expression, was it judgement or something else? “It’s a long story.” You find yourself looking down and away from him again. Like there’s a smudge of guilt and shame creeping in.

“I’ve got time.” He raises his arms in a gesture that conveyed ‘bring it on’. God he wanted the details, why? You glance around the room, finding another chair and rolling it infront of him. “Where should I start?” You giggle, forcing yourself to lighten the mood. “The beginning, please.” He starts to bounce his knee.

“Last night, I was eating my late night cereal in the kitchen, when everyone got home.” Bruce folds his arms and nods. “Bucky joined me in the kitchen and well, he dumped a bowl of milk on me. It was an accident, I think.”

“You think it was an accident? Or you have proof of otherwise?” He says, tilting his head. “Maybe the latter.” You admit. “Okay, so the guy spills milk on you, so you go workout with him?” He was obviously confused. “Not directly after! He apologized and brought me coffee this morning to apologize again, offered to help me out with training.” Bruce rolls his eyes again and you’re sure they’ll fall out the next time.

“Please tell me you didn’t believe he was just innocently apologizing.” He sounds annoyed with you, it kinda stings. You never expected Bruce to get upset with you over it. “What else would he be doing?” You shrug your shoulders at him, genuinely curious if he saw it the same way. “Anyone with eyes here knows, that Casanova, will pull any girl in the building, I’m sure he doesn’t even have a type.”. So Bruce also thinks Bucky was flirting with you.

“I honestly didn’t want to believe it. Why would a guy like him be with me?” You shake your head, trying to throw the thoughts from your mind. “He has been nothing but nice to me, I promise.” You look him in the eyes and you see the tone you’ve been hearing in his voice. Flecks of green shine and then die out instantly, his knee was bouncing faster than before. “If he was so nice then why’d you leave the gym?” His voice wasn’t questioning, it was accusatory.

You choose your next words carefully. “Steve came in, and he said something that wasn’t so nice, so I left. That’s all, Bucky didn’t even do anything, there goes his attempt at sleeping with the whole office.” You try to laugh it off, but Bruce isn’t budging. “What did he say?”

“I was getting a water from the vending machine-“ before you could finish, his knee stopped bouncing, and he unfolded his arms. Now you were worried. “Did he comment on your weight, yes or no?” He stands up, harshly slamming the chair into the desk. You would never lie to Bruce, but the truth might start something you don’t want. “Sorta…” you say, ashamed. He strides past you, and now you’re reaching out for him, “Wait.”.

“No, I’m tired of these pompous assholes doing and saying what they want. I’m not letting it happen, especially to you.”. He looks back before exiting the room, and you feel something in your chest swell. He was so serious right now, you could feel the anger radiating off of him. You didn’t know Bruce felt anything besides casual friendship for you, now you’re starting to think differently.

“I’m coming.” You run to catch up with him, taking long strides behind him as his white lab coat swings behind him, and in front of you. “What makes him think he can even speak on my- on you?” He redirects as he swings the gym door open.

You’re met with Bucky and Steve racing each other in push-ups. “99-100!” “You suck.” “You cheated.” They’re laughing as if you and Bruce didn’t just walk in. “No one cares.” Bruce cuts in. The look of annoyance on his face was enough to confuse the super soldiers. “What are you doing out of the lab?” Steve jokes, but no one laughs. “The next time you even so much as think about Y/N, you’ll be talking to the big guy, not me.”. Steve looks around the gym, wondering who Bruce thinks he is. “Sure, pal.” He grabs a towel and wipes the sweat from his neck. “Tell your girlfriend to lose some weight then.” Before you could even be hurt, all you saw was green.

Hulk was infront of you now, taking heaving breaths. You poke your head out from behind him and see Steve and Bucky holding their hands out as if they were calming a wild boar. “Woah, don’t you think you’re over reacting?” Steve says, stepping back. “Y/N! Call off your dog!.” He says, tripping over his own feet.

Hulk slowly stalks towards both of the men, ready to shred them to pieces. A sinister smile on his face. You feel no pity for Steve, but the thought of Bucky being hurt in the crossfire didn’t sit right with you. Before the jolly green giant could break a bone you pipe up loudly. “Hulk? Hey! Over here!” You wave your hands around in the air.

He can see your tiny form trying to catch his attention, and Hulk has the peace of mind to just ignore you, and do what he knows best, smash. The first fist landed on the gym floor, splinters of wood flew everywhere, a hole to the basement left in its place. “Hulk!” You scream this time and it catches his attention. “Go home!” You demand. You knew better than to have a civilized conversation with him. He knew how to take orders from Fury, so maybe it would work. When he just stands there and looks at you, you double down. With a faux confidence, you looked him in his giant green eyes. “Now, Hulk!” You raise an eyebrow, like a tested mother, as if you were about to count to three.

You don’t know why, the hulk didn’t frighten you one bit, but silly, mean words would make you crumble. He growls one last time at the scared super soldiers before breaking through the door way leading outside. Leaving you alone with the men you almost had killed. Bucky looks in disbelief, like he wasn’t almost used for a human punching bag. “Sorry.” You shy away, stepping on fallen bricks to follow Bruce outside.

“What the actual fuck just happened?” You hear Steve ask, but you’re halfway to the swaying trees before you could hear his response. You don’t really know where Bruce lives, so following him through the woods was your only option. You don’t want him destroying more floor boards on your account. Also, you need to find out why he was so passionate about defending you.

Tag List:

@cjand10

@winterslove1917

@honestlywork

@calwitch

@missvelvetsstuff

@differenttyphoonwerewolf

@Thewiselionessss

@mcira

@sashaisready

@thejujvtsupost

@toxicteapot

[sunflowerwinds]

second guessing [h.c]

summary: hazel makes the mistake of getting caught up in her studies at stark industries, causing you to question your relationship. may has a talk with hazel about what she sees as more important: you or her future?

pairing: hazel callahan x fem!reader

contains: mature language and content, spider!hazel, smoking cannabis, relationship angst, pass relationship trauma, pj & may being real ones, hazel’s deceased parents mentioned.

word count: 4.1K

a/n: HELLO!! HI!! after i can’t even remember how long it’s been since the last update :/ but i am so so so excited to get back into spider-hazel! i hope everyone enjoys <3

SPIDER-HAZEL MASTERLIST!

“So why exactly am I here?”

Hazel was walking with Tony and Happy down the lengthy hallways made of glass windows. She had swung in through the window and quickly changed into a normal outfit, sporting a multi-patterned button-up with a brown sweater vest and dark blue jeans with her white beaten-down Converse. She always felt so out of place when she had to be at Stark Industries.

Here, a broke nineteen-year-old college girl in the most casual outfit, amongst scientists of all fields in the fanciest and most expensive suits. She’s pretty sure everything on her body was thrifted.

They passed Josie’s office where she was typing god-knows-what into her computer. She perked up at the sight of Hazel, waving a friendly hand. Hazel reciprocates the motion, and Josie points with narrowed eyes at Happy’s figure. Happy’s eyes widened in… fear?

“You’re a filthy cheat, Hogan. I started another game,” Josie threatens as she clicks out of something on her desktop.

Happy looked like he wanted to say something but kept quiet for the time being. Hazel swore she saw Tony smiling to himself.

When Tony didn’t answer her question earlier, her eyes widened as she thought of the car chase yesterday afternoon. The bill.

“If this is about the bill for the damaged car, I-I completely forgot to tell you about it. That was my bad.” Hazel spluttered out, fidgeting with the rings covering her fingers.

This made the powerful man turn his head slightly to the side as they continued to walk.

“Kid, what damaged car?” He questioned Hazel, brows setting that intimidating furrow.

Hazel shook her head and pursed her lips. “Nothing. I’m sure it was nothing.”

Tony then glanced at Happy who shrugged. They exchanged so many words in such little silence. Hazel blew out a breath of air as they rounded a corner into someplace she was familiar with.

The three entered Dr. Connors's office where the man was standing and flipping through files. Tony knocked on the glass door with a single knuckle, capturing the blonde man's attention.

“Dr. Connors,” Tony nodded his head with a professional smile on his lips.

“Mr. Stark,” he replied with the same gesture. “Happy.”

Hazel straightened her aching back from the previous day, eyes bouncing from every knick-knack in Connor's office. The second she entered the space yesterday, a weird tingle had traveled down her spine every time. There was something eerie about Dr. Connors in a way that she couldn’t explain.

But Mr.Stark trusted him so she would learn to trust him too.

Connors turned to Hazel’s figure. “Miss Callahan, it’s lovely to see you again.”

“It’s always a pleasure, Dr. Connors,” she replied with a charming smile.

“Now, kid, Dr.Connors, as you know, is in need of some assistance with his cross-species genetics project,” Hazel nodded to confirm she was listening, glancing down at the missing part of Dr. Connor's arm. “I, so brilliantly, suggested that you can take this on as a… trial run to see how big that brain of yours really is.”

Dr. Connors's eyes flicker to Hazel who curtly nods.

“I’ve never really worked on cross-species genetics, Dr.Connors, so fair warning,” Hazel jokes with a nervous chuckle.

“Well if you’re as gifted as Mr.Stark says you are, I’m sure you’ll pick up everything rather quickly.”

Hazel beams at Tony who just stares at Dr.Connors like he had been caught doing something out of the ordinary. This gave her a little pep in her step to know that Tony Stark had praised at least one person about her intelligence.

“Gifted?” Hazel recites, looking at Happy with a cheeky grin.

“Yeah, don’t let it get to your mullet-y head, kid,” Tony quipped as he tugged down his sleeves. “To the lab, Dr.Connors?”

Happy had a knowing look on his face at the way Tony quickly changed the subject, throwing Hazel a discrete wink. Dr.Connors even held an amused grin at his urgency to move on. Hazel hopped excitedly behind Happy and Tony, alongside Connors as they made their way to the lab in Stark Towers.

Tony Stark thinks she’s intelligent.

“So what exactly do you mean she just disappeared?” PJ questioned while she rummaged through her brown corduroy bag.

After waking up this morning to see an empty bed and all of Hazel’s stuff gone, a wave of sadness fell over you. You understood that her internship sometimes called for her to come in the early hours of the morning but it didn’t ease your anxious mind when she would just not answer your texts or calls.

When call five again went straight to voicemail, irritation flooded your system. It was your day off and you didn’t want to stress over Hazel’s disappearance.

You were quick to text PJ to ask her if she could bring some of her weed as a stress reliever. PJ was at your door within minutes, a cheeky grin on her face. You led her to your room and propped open your window so that the two of you could smoke on the fire escape. You sat on the ground, back against the brick walls with a pillow underneath you while PJ sat in front of you on the stairs, her purse in her lap.

“She slept over last night and it was so nice, you know? I woke up this morning, excited to spend one of my days off with her and she’s gone.” You sigh as you lean your head on the red brick.

PJ smacks her lips as she whispers a ‘Where the hell are they?’ before lifting her head up to nod at your words to show she was actively listening.

“It’s that Tony Stark shit, right?” PJ questioned as she continued to rummage through her messy bag for her pre-rolled joints.

“Yeah, but am I being too… clingy? Or overreacting or something?” You ask PJ as you twiddle with the ends of your gray sweats.

PJ deadpanned to you as she sternly shook her head. Her slightly frizzy wavy hair bounced with the motion.

“No! You are a worried girlfriend, dude,” she continued to shake her head.

PJ’s hands pull out of her bag and hold up a retro tin box that reads ‘I can’t cook, Who cares?’ that she had probably found at an antique store.

“Come on, we gotta take your mind off that shit. Do you have a light?” PJ excitedly grinned as she bounced her knees from where she was sitting across from you, her red and white basketball shorts shifting up her thighs.

You nod with a snort as you lean over to your bedroom window to snatch it from your bedside table. As you’re backing out, you notice a few dirt marks on the window sill that look like tennis shoe imprints. Like Hazel’s Converse, now that you’re staring at it more and more.

Huh. Interesting.

You place the black lighter in PJ’s palm with a tight-lipped grin. PJ took a singular joint out of the tin box and held it between her lips. She flickered on the flame, shielding it with a cupped palm. You watched the end lit a faint red as PJ sucked in a deep breath.

She coughed a bit as she handed it to you, blowing out the smoke with a relieved sigh. You take the warm joint in between your middle finger and thumb to breathe in the relaxing toxin.

“So, are you going to break up with her?” PJ hummed as she tilted her head at you.

You coughed harshly in shock at the bluntness of the question. The smoke left your lips in a staggered pattern as you waved it away.

“What the fuck? No,” you chuckle as you hand the joint back to her after taking a smaller hit. “I think we just need to have a talk about this.”

PJ took a long hit between her pointer and middle finger, nodding slowly. Her eyebrows raise which causes you to scrunch up your face in confusion.

“I’m just saying this sounds oddly familiar,” PJ sing-songed as she blew out the smoke in your face.

A stab of fear entered your system for a moment. No. Hazel wasn’t like her. She would never do what she had done to you.

“I know her, P. She’s not like… you know,” you defend your girlfriend.

PJ passed the joint back to you, jerking a bit at the sudden honk coming from the streets below. You take it from her to take another long drag, wanting to be nearly light-headed.

“Okay, if you say so but let’s not worry about that right now. Are you hungry?” PJ quipped with a small grin.

“Oh shit, yeah. We can make sandwiches.” You nod slowly, taking another small drag from the joint.

“Let’s finish this first, actually before we get inside. I know your uncle would, like, flip the fuck out if he smelt this in your apartment.” PJ began to giggle softly, shaking her head as she leaned against the rusted railing of the stairs.

You hum with a content smile, Hazel being long gone from your mind within seconds. Whatever. It’s nothing. The situation was under your control and definitely was not Hazel keeping secrets from you.

Nope. Not one bit.

You were getting high with a friend, letting the midday sun pour into your system as you let your mind wander away from your distant girlfriend—

Wait, were you going to get a sunburn? Or sun poisoning?

Hazel was so fucked. So completely fucked.

When she had checked her phone after her hours with Dr.Connors accumulating the perfect formula for the cross-species genetics, she saw phone calls and text messages from you, May, and PJ.

You had called her 10 times and texted her 15 times while May and PJ were only twice with each. The first few texts were just: ‘Hello?’ and ‘Where did you go this morning?’. The messages then turned more concerned for her well-being: ‘Haze, baby, are you okay?’

Hazel sprinted out of the lab, shouting an apology to Dr.Connors as her Converse squeaked against the tile floors. She made a b-line to the stairs door to hurry to the roof. She snatched her backpack that she had thrown up here when she had arrived at Stark Towers. She practically rips it open to stuff her clothes into and slides her mask over her face.

Hazel anxiously jumps off the ledge, the whole city becoming a permanent image in her brain. Her arms ached as she swung from building to building, her anxiety at its peak.

“Karen, can you check Honey’s location? Please?” Hazel asked as she swung herself to land on a sign of a movie theater.

“Locating honey,” Karen repeats back in her robotic voice. Within seconds, Karen speaks up once again to say: “Honey’s location is in the alleyway between Dunkin’ Donuts and Wo Kee Noodle on 168th Street. According to satellites, she is not alone.”

Hazel’s heart dropped at Karen’s words. She immediately began to follow the tracker within the inside of her mask, an awful sense of fear in her stomach.

“Karen, how many other people are there?” Hazel asked as she rounded a corner, using two web strings to tug herself up and onto the roof of the buildings.

“I am detecting two other cellular devices.”

“Shit,” Hazel muttered to herself as she ran down the rooftops on 166th to get to 168th.

It was past 7 pm, the sun was on the cusp of disappearing on the horizon. Hazel couldn’t bear the thought of you getting caught up in a mugging or having done something against your will. You knew how to handle yourself and she knew that.

But against two people? You were only one person.

Lingering in the darkness, Hazel peeked over the rooftop of the Woo Kee Noodle to see if you were in fact getting mugged or worse. From what she could see from the weird above angle, you were surrounded by her Aunt May and your Uncle Karter.

Guilt flowed through Hazel’s veins at the sight of you in a quite obviously distracted state as your uncle and her aunt tried to assure you that she was okay. You held your cup of noodles to your chest, stabbing into the cardboard cup with a worried look on your face.

Hazel couldn’t take it anymore. She felt like the worst person in the world. Seeing you like this was a slap to the face.

“Oh, sweetheart, I’m sure Hazel’s gonna text or call soon saying she was up in that Stark Tower all day,” May rubbed your back to rest her head on yours.

“No, I know. I just… She’s been distant recently.” You admit, taking a bite of your noodles with a sigh. “Am I going crazy? Am I overthinking it?”

“Bee, I’m sure she’ll text or call you soon. Don’t stress it too much.” Karter nodded his head, his tone indifferent.

Hazel cursed at herself mentally, backing up slowly on the roof to not draw attention to herself. She sprints off of the roof to shoot her web towards the next tallest building to swing to your fire escape.

You, while eating your food with May and Karter, for some reason glanced up at the deep blue night sky, eyes squinting as you swore you saw a flash of blue and red. No, Spider-Woman kept more towards the city. God, you were driving yourself up the wall with Hazel being MIA.

“I think it’s time to go home, Bee,” Karter spoke up with a small grin.

You nod weakly in agreement, giving May the same smile. The three of you take the METRO to May’s apartment building first, sadly seeing no sign of Hazel. May gave you a kiss on the cheek and your uncle a friendly hug, assuring you that Hazel would be home soon and she would give her the scolding of a lifetime.

The whole bus ride home, you rest your head on your uncle’s shoulder as you blast music through your headphones. Once you arrived home, you tossed your empty box in the recycle bin and told Karter ‘goodnight’. You made a B-line to your bedroom as your headphones were still destroying your eardrums.

You twist your doorknob open and push the door open, looking down at your shoes as you peel them off. Your brows furrow as you feel a sudden breeze. Did you leave the window open?

You glance over at your bed, letting out a shout of shock when you see Hazel, panting slightly as she holds a weak smile on her lips. You moved your headphones off your head to rest on your neck and shoulders, staring at Hazel in disbelief.

“What the hell? You scared the shit out of me,” you held your rapidly beating chest, shutting your eyes for a moment.

“I’m sorry. For everything. For being distant, for not answering you whatsoever today. All of it.” Hazel blurted out, her leg bouncing nervously.

You shoot your eyes open at her apology, letting your bag slip off your shoulder onto the ground beside your door. You walk over to plop down on the bed beside her, sighing softly.

“I accept your apology, babe, but,” you suck in a deep breath, “why have you been so distant recently? Other than the Stark Internship because I know it’s something else, Hazel.”

Hazel stayed silent for a moment, her shoes and her heavy breathing were the only sounds that you could hear. She can’t. She wants to so so badly to ease your mind but Mr.Stark said she can’t risk your life.

“I… can’t tell you,” Hazel winced as she spoke, rubbing her hands over her face.

She can’t bring herself to look at you.

“You can’t tell me?” You repeat in confusion, a twinge of sadness in your voice.

“I-I want to tell you. I really do but I can’t. I’m sorry,” Hazel begs for you to just move on from the subject.

You stand up from your bed, shaking your head in disbelief. You let out a scoff at her words, a bubble of anger rising up to your throat.

“Hazel, that doesn’t ease my mind whatsoever. Do you understand how that makes me feel?” You try to keep your voice at a normal volume but this argument, just like PJ had pointed out earlier, felt all too familiar.

Hazel finally locked eyes with you, revealing her glazed-over blue eyes. You’ve never had such a serious conversation with her. It’s been smooth sailing from the first date you two went on and now you’re questioning if she even wants to be with you. Her words seemed genuine.

Seemed.

“I don’t know what else to say,” Hazel whispered.

“You need to go home, Haze. May is worried about you,” you respond, not knowing what to say either.

Hazel didn’t want to leave but what else was she to do? You were obviously upset and there wasn’t anything she could do. She couldn’t give you the one thing you wanted, which was the truth.

Hazel nods in understanding and you bite back the heavy tears that were threatening to fall from your tired eyes. She grabs her backpack that was placed next to your rug, giving you one last look. You avoided her gaze as she leaned in to place a gentle kiss on your cheek. You shut your eyes at the gentle touch, the first tear falling from your eyes.

“I’m sorry,” Hazel muttered one last time as she left your bedroom, the door clicking shut behind you.

The second you heard the front door lock shut, a heavy sob let your lips. The tears came pouring out of your eyes as you walked over to your bed. You were exhausted and didn’t even bother changing out of your outside clothes. Plopping down onto the soft mattress, you grabbed the knitted blanket that you kept at the end of your bed to lift over your body to shield yourself from the room.

“Bee?” You heard your uncle speak softly through the door.

“I’m fine,” you reply, sniffling and wiping your damp cheeks.

“Are you sure?” He pressed.

You shut your eyes as your bottom lip wobbled.

“I really don’t want to talk about it right now. Tomorrow, please?” Your voice cracked as you begged for him to leave you alone.

You listen to the sound of his footsteps receding, letting out a shaky breath of relief as you shut your heavy eyes. Minutes later, you fell asleep with a sense of sadness about the state of your relationship.

Hazel approached her apartment door with hot tears in her eyes, sniffling and wiping underneath her nose. She reached to pull her key out of her pocket only to find that it wasn't there. She lets out soft curses before knocking on the door a few times.

Seconds after, the door locks twist from the inside and squeak open. May stands at the doorway with a wave of silent anger.

“Hey Aunt May, I’m sorry. I lost my key and—”

“Save it. Get in and sit down,” May cuts her off and steps to the side as she jerks her thumb into the small apartment.

Hazel closes her mouth without question as she rushes into the house and sets her bag down on the couch. She sits on the left side, immediately twisting her middle finger band around her finger. May shut the door with a soft sigh before walking over to Hazel who had yet to look at her.

“What’s going on, huh?” May questions, standing in front of Hazel’s seated place on the couch. “I mean it. Don’t lie to me, okay? I’m not, you know, trying to attack you. I want to help you in whatever way I can, sweetheart.”

Hazel looked up as tears fell from her deep blue eyes, sucking in a deep breath.

“I think I’m screwing up my relationship,” Hazel admits.

May looks at her niece with understanding. She makes her over to the empty side of the couch to plop down next to Hazel with a soft sigh.

“Did you talk to her about it?” May questioned but Hazel let out a frustrated sound.

“That’s just it, May. I-I can’t talk to her about it. Mr.Stark told me not to tell anyone,” Hazel ran a hand over her face to also wipe away her tears.

May’s brows shot up at this, tilting her head and leaning forward to try and get a good look at Hazel’s face.

“Can you tell me about it?” May asked with hope.

Hazel shook her head as she sucked in a deep breath. Her aunt meant the world to her as did you and she couldn’t risk what could come out of either of you finding out.

“No one.”

May sighs as she messes with her chipping clear polish on her fingernails.

“Well, that sucks. I was really hoping you’d give in and tell me that you’re Spider-Woman by now.”

Hazel’s eyes shot open at her words but attempted to remain calm. She moved her hand from her face and let out a scoff at her words like she was making a ridiculous accusation.

“Spider-Woman? Yeah, that’s hilarious, May.” Hazel shook her head.

“Is it really?” May plastered on a knowing smile.

Hazel didn’t want to believe it. How could she have figured it out? Is she that obvious about her secret — or not-so-secret now— identity?

As if May could read her thoughts, she cleared her throat: “Harry accidentally told me after dinner.”

“Who’s Harry?” Hazel’s brows furrowed. How does he know about me being Spider-Woman, she thought.

May blinked at her niece before sighing and messing with her fingernails once again.

“Sorry, Happy told me over dinner.”

Hazel blankly stared at May with a mixture of confusion and amusement. She let out a soft laugh of disbelief.

“When are you and Happy going to ‘dinner’?” Hazel slyly grinned as she used air quotes over the word ‘dinner’.

“You…” May trailed off and pointed at Hazel. “You need to focus on what we were talking about before.”

Hazel kept a mental note to press her for questions later. She hadn’t been a mini-Avenger for long so when would they even have gone out?

“So…?” May egged Hazel on to finally just admit it.

“Yes. Okay, yes, it’s about me being Spider-Woman.” Hazel turned to her aunt with a loud sigh.

May stared at her with a gaped mouth in shock.

“Oh my god, what if I was working for, like, a bad guy and turned you in just now? What if I was wired?” May shook her head at her niece.

Hazel mimicked her dropped jaw but out of offense.

“May,” she whined and covered her face.

“Okay, okay, I’m teasing you. I’m sorry,” May chuckled as wrapped one of her thin arms around Hazel’s frame, placing a kiss on her temple. “Now, sweetheart, you really have to think about this, okay? I know and I can see how much you care about her. You need to think about if it really would be so bad if she knew. She might even be at ease to know the reason you’ve been instead of angry at you because you hide things from her. I can’t speak for her, you know, but if she’s as amazing as you know she is, I don’t think telling her the truth could be as harmful as you’re making it out to be.”

Hazel shut her eyes as she listened to May’s words against her temple, sinking into her embrace. May brought up the same reasons that Hazel had gone over in her head probably hundreds of times; every time she looked at your gorgeous smile, every time you spoke to her, just being around you caused an itch in her throat to just blurt out that she was Spider-Woman.

Every single day has been mental torture. Has it been the same for you?

“What if Mr.Stark finds out and I lose everything?” Hazel whispered as she snuggled her shoulder.

“Well, then he was never worth it. You’re a smart girl, Hazel. I know that. Your mom knew that. Your dad knew that. My future daughter-in-law knows that,” Hazel softly chuckled at that, a pained expression on her face at the mention of her parents.

“I know you’ll do the right thing,” May finalizes, nodding with certainty.

Hazel nodded at her words, wiping away the tears that managed to escape from her drowsy eyes.

She hopes she’s able to do this the right way and to not hurt you more in the process.

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[lot-of-nothing]

Entwined (Ch. 6)

Melissa Schemmenti x Reader

Protective Mel <3

Warnings: Smut, flirting, arguments, and working through internalized homophobia

Author’s Note: THIS TOOK SO LONG OH MYGOD. @icannolongercountmyfandoms is the one you can thank for a new chapter bc she LITERALLY threatened me with BODILY HARM /j

Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch. 5

A soft knock on your office door drew your attention from your desktop monitor to the sweet face of Melissa Schemmenti. You had been ordering parts on a vehicle currently in your shop when her presence delightfully interrupted your work. 

Leaning back in your desk chair, you rest your hands on your thighs as you look her over. She wore leather pants and a form fitting top that only reminded you that it had been weeks since you last fooled around with the beautiful redhead. You spoke with a smirk, your eyes obviously wandering to admire her entire body, “What do I owe the pleasure of having Ms. Schemmenti in my office?”

Mel adored the way you stared, allowing the door to shut behind her as she inched deeper into the office. Her eyes scanned the walls littered with articles about the auto shop that had been in business for decades - opened by your great-uncle in the 70s. She murmured her reply without looking at you, “Just thought I’d drop by...” 

“I saw you less than 12 hours ago. I can’t believe you miss me already.” Your eyes were glued to her ass as she turned her back to you. 

Melissa kept her back to you as she spoke, slowly walking the perimeter of the office to skim the framed headlines. She returned the playful banter with a monotone, “I’m just here to make sure you are doin’ your job and not just daydreamin’ about me all day.”

“I have time for both.” You tease, earning a sideways glance and eye roll from the redhead. 

When she was done touring the office, she perched herself at the edge of your desk. Your response was to move your office chair closer while simultaneously leaning backwards, stretching out to allow Melissa’s eyes to skim over you. 

“Enjoying the view?” You asked.

“I am.” Her arms folded over her chest as a mischievous smirk grew on her lips. Mel’s eyes flickered from your shoulders, over your chest, allowing her eyes to linger before drifting back to your face, “I’ve never seen you in your work clothes.”

You give a shrug, teasing her, “That happens when you don’t call before 8pm.” 

Your comment had more bite than you intended, but Melissa didn’t seem to take it too personally. She brushed her hair over her shoulder before placing both of her hands on the arms of your chair and looming over you, “Why don’t you let me make it up to you?”

Rather than meet her intense green hues, you admired her cleavage with no effort to conceal your desires. “What do you have in mind?” Melissa’s demeanor changed with a playful laugh. You could’ve sworn you felt her purring as her face drifted closer to yours. Her nose and lips brushed against yours before she scantily pulled away, “A little weekend getaway. You, me, and a cheap, little hotel right on the beach in Atlantic City.” 

You cocked your head with a shit eating grin across your face, “Are you asking me on a date?” 

Her response contained no hesitation or nervousness. Rather she seemed incredibly satisfied with herself, “I am.” 

“Then say it.” Your demeanor was entirely too confident for Melissa’s liking, and you could tell this was the case as her brows narrowed as she stared you down. Her stubborn nature had her fall silent, searching your face to see how serious you were. You confirmed your serious intentions as you returned her intimidating gaze, “Go on.”

The redhead glared for a few seconds longer before straightening her back and softening her features, “Will you go on a date with me?”

“Why, I thought you would never ask.” To reward Mel for her behavior, you rose from your chair, pressing a brief kiss to her lips that threatened to cause Melissa’s cheeks to flush red.

—

“What in the hell is this?” A voice and a banging on the window to your office caused Melissa to jump from your lap to prevent anyone from seeing how cozied up you had been with one another. 

With a wave of frustration now coursing through your veins, you rose from your chair and strode to the door, opening it to face a disgruntled customer. He pushed a piece of paper stained with the vaguely familiar markings of the autoshop printer into your face. You quickly pushed away his hand and failed to provide his aggression with kind customer service, “It looks like a receipt.”

He pointed at the receipt, raving about the additional charges tacked onto the original cost of fixing his vehicle, “What the hell are all of these extra charges? You said it was gonna cost $300 and now you’re charging me over $500!”

You only shrugged at his frustrations, leaning away from him as he threatened your bubble of personal space once again as you tried to explain the additional charges. You hadn’t noticed Melissa lingering in the doorway behind you, silently fuming at the way the customer was speaking to you, “We told you when you dropped it off that you gotta pick it up within 24 hours or else we charge ya’ for parking. You left the Buick here for over a week, man. We aren’t a public parking lot. We need the space for other customers.”

“Where’s your fuckin’ manager?”

“I am the fuckin’ manager.”

You returning his energy wasn’t something he took kindly. He waded up the bill and tossed it aside before pushing his finger into your chest, “If you think for a goddamn minute I will be paying this bill, you have another thing comin’. I don’t need some bitch robbing me of my hard earned money.” The second he touched you, Melissa rounded your side and came to stand between you and the man. Her hands were balled into fists and perched on her hips as she stared defiantly up at the man who stood two feet taller than her. You glanced down and noticed gripped in one of her hands was a baseball bat you kept tucked behind your desk, “Is there a problem here?”

The man gave a tired sigh, waving a hand in Melissa’s face. Little did he know that his waving hand was akin to the red flag waving in the face of a raging bull, “Get lost, red. It’s none of your business.”

With one swift movement she lifted the bat, allowing it to slide in her hand so she gripped the barrell, shortening it enough that she could poke him in the chest with it. You watched her lean back and forth as she threatened him - a genetic trait of Schemmenti’s as they threatened people. “The second you decided to start with the name callin’ it became my problem. I suggest you pay up before your car ends up with more problems than what you came in with.”

He made the worst possible decision as he placed his hands on his knees, speaking to Melissa as if he were talking to a child. “Stay the hell out of this. This is between me and your girlfriend.”

Melissa stared him down for a fraction of a second before snapping. She allowed the bat to slide back down in her hand so she could grip the handle and lift the aluminum bat above her head, ready to strike. You were lucky you had your eyes glued to her rather than the unwelcome customer so you had the time to loop one arm around her waist while the other raised to grip the barrel of the bat. 

“No, no, no, no!” You scolded, tugging her back towards the office while some of the boys working in the shop intervened. 

Mel barely gave up a fight against you, rather she stared down her new mortal enemy with a vitriol you had yet to see on her face before. When she was finally in the office, you released her while tearing the bat from her grasp lest she have any ideas about slipping past you to exact her revenge.

Knowing she was now trapped in your office, she began pacing back and forth with a rage you could feel radiating off her. You leaned against the door, watching her traverse your office like a caged wildcat which only made you smile. With a lighthearted tone, you tried to calm her, “Easy, tiger.”

Melissa whipped around to face you, her hands clenching and unclenching at her sides as she was clearly unhappy with your decision to prevent her from teaching that guy a lesson. She stared up at you with a defiance that you found incredibly endearing, and what was even more endearing was the way she continued fighting for you, “He can’t just talk to you like that!”

“Don’t give it too much thought. I deal with guys like that all the time.” You calmly brush off the encounter, remembering countless situations wherein things escalated much further and you were called far worse. Leaving the bat by the door, you approach the seething woman with a serenity that cooled her boiling anger. 

The redhead refused to respond to you and her eyes studied the calendar on the wall to avoid meeting your own. She folded her arms over chest and you watched her demeanor shift from simmering anger to pouty eyes begging for your attention. 

Taking her face in your hands, you lift her face towards you and press a kiss to her forehead before wrapping her into a tight hug, “I promise you. It’s okay.”

--

You drop your phone down onto the bed when Melissa walks out only wearing an oversized sweatshirt. The bagginess of the clothing hid everything and you were ready to help her out of it as quickly as she put it on. You gestured for her to come to your side of the bed, “Just when I think you can’t get more gorgeous, you walk out looking like that.” 

Melissa crawled into bed with you, straddling your lap for a moment to give you hope before sliding off to land on her side of the bed, “I have work in the morning. I don’t need any of your funny business. ”

You ‘tsked’ her response and pulled away the covers so she wouldn’t be able to hide. You rapidly maneuvered so you would be on your knees before her so your hands could guide her thighs open. She was smirking as she put up no fight against your efforts. She even lifted her sweatshirt to reveal more of herself to you; that move alone told you she wasn’t truly opposed to your ‘funny business’.

Settling onto your stomach, you lean your cheek against her thigh, staring intently at her panties, “Funny business? There is nothing funny about this...”

“Mm… Prove it.” A manicured hand wove into your hair, drawing your face closer to her heat. Her back arched involuntarily and caused her hips to shift downwards closer to your mouth. 

“Happily.” You murmured, hooking your fingers around the waistband of her underwear and pulling them down her legs the best you could. They were at her knees when you lowered your face to her cunt once again. As a professional in pleasuring Melissa, you skillfully wound your arms around her thighs before using your fingers to spread her cunt open for your tongue to go to work. 

You felt Melissa’s thighs squeeze your head for a moment as she worked to remove her underwear without trying to impact your ability to give head. The feeling of her legs around her head drove you insane. You tried to let her know how much you craved her as your hands shifted back to her thighs so you could feel your fingers compress into her soft flesh. 

Melissa relaxed back into the bed, completely melting into your touch. Her hands rose above her head to grip the bed frame - a silent way of giving you complete control. 

She was already sleepy from your lovemaking from nearly an hour ago, so this time Mel was far less energetic and performative. It was mesmerizing watching her head softly turn back and forth while soft breathy moans escaped her mouth. This was exactly what made Melissa so addicting for you. 

You watched her crane her neck so she could press her face into her pillow to catch the fabric between her teeth. In response, you swirl your tongue around her clit before giving her clit a hard suck. She gave a strained and exhausted growl that faded into a quiet whine - her quietness all centered around preventing her roommate from hearing.

You attempted to move your mouth away to give her reprieve, but her hips lifted off the mattress to impede too much separation.

Part of you wondered how far you could push Melissa. To satiate your curiosity, you gently scraped your teeth against her clit, earning a hiss then a whiney moan. You were clearly pushing your luck with how much she could handle. When you continued with your teasing licks, your eyes flickered back up to her face to enjoy the view. Her chest was heaving and her bottom lip jutted out into a pathetic pout as her hips began grinding against your tongue as she sought out an orgasm. 

For a split second you considered confessing your love to Melissa like you did all those years ago, but you kept yourself from doing so. She needed to come to you. Instead you opted to pay her a compliment instead, “You’re so good for me, pretty girl…”

Your heart fluttered as you watched a smile spread across her face. She then attempted to silence a rumble deep in her throat and hide her simper, but it was fruitless as the compliments continued falling off your lips. You breathily mumbled about her hips and thighs, briefly pausing to stroke your tongue up and down her drippy cunt, and continued your mad ramblings about how beautiful you found her to be.

In your moments of desperation, your words had caused Melissa’s face to grow hot from embarrassment. It was easy accepting compliments when the moment lacked the vulnerability of sex and nudity, but when your face was buried between her legs the flattering remarks felt all too real. She tried to brush them aside, only to have them linger at the outskirts of her mind. 

As you refocused your attention on her clit with the addition of two fingers gently inching deeper into her pussy, Melissa was struggling to escape the thoughts of your feelings towards her. She despised how light it made her feel. She hated that she felt herself being drawn closer to orgasm from the adoration she felt from you. 

Her fierce independence was battling the all-consuming craving to feel desired.

While you were not privy to her inner turmoil, you only worked harder to bring her pleasure. Your fingers gently curled within her, stroking that special spot you discovered during your youth. A coil tightened within Melissa, her hand shooting down to grip your spare wrist to steady herself. 

You chose to lose yourself in giving head once again. Her breasts gently shook with each light shift of her body - a mesmerizing sight. You were lapping and kissing at her clit softly as you hoped to draw out this experience as much as possible. However, Melissa was unable to take anymore as an orgasm washed over her and her back swiftly lifted off the bed and quickly arched back into the mattress, pushing her hips to your mouth. 

You slowed down the movements of your tongue, but you didn’t stop entirely. You wanted to slowly bring her down from her peak (and selfishly you wanted you to continue enjoying the feeling of her thighs clamped down on the sides of your head). When her back finally relaxed against the mattress, you slipped your hand from her cunt to reluctantly help guide her thighs into a resting position. You gave her thighs a couple of gentle bites, encouraging to ease up on you, “Come on, pretty girl…”

Melissa whimpered as her legs shakily parted, nervous you would attempt to continue regardless of her exhaustion. You only nuzzled her thighs, slowly smothering them with kisses in a way that gave Melissa butterflies. 

She was quick to try and move herself out of such a vulnerable position. “Let’s get cleaned up. I’m already way up past my bedtime.” Melissa gave your arm a pat, encouraging you to get up as she shifted her hips to the left as if she were attempting to move off the bed. 

You rolled off the redhead and sat up, taking that as her subtle hint for you to head home. After following Melissa to the bathroom and using the sink to wash your face and hands, you began gathering your clothes to make your exit. This only confused the redhead as she pulled back the comforter for both sides of the bed as she expected you to join her, “Whered’ya think your goin’?”

“Oh…” Your eyes widened and you began removing your sweatpants that you just put on. You undressed and joined the redhead in bed, earning a satisfied hum from her. 

When you were settled on your back, Melissa was on her side facing away from you. She found a way to make physical contact with you by backing up in bed so her back was pressed to your side. She shifted in bed for a few moments as she tried to find a comfortable position, and after she did she mumbled sleepily, “Be warned. I wake up at 6.”

You started your sentence mid-yawn, “That’s a shocker.”

She had one final quip for you as sleep threatened to overtake her, “I don’t just wake up looking this beautiful.” 

With a chuckle, you gave her ass a pat, mumbling out your final few words before allowing yourself to enjoy some silence before you fell asleep, “I doubt that…”

--

You woke up the next morning with Melissa already off to work, but when you checked your phone you had a message from Mel waiting for you. 

Melissa: Couldn’t bear to wake you up. You should have told me you were that cute when you slept. I would’ve let you stay sooner.

Y/N: I don’t believe that for a second. 

Y/N: Don’t worry. I’m getting ready right now and I’ll be out soon. 

You quickly sent the second message as you didn’t want to seem too over confident nor did you want to overstay your welcome. 

Melissa: No rush. There is lunch for you in the fridge. I marked the tupperware.

You grinned at your phone like a lovestruck idiot. Quickly you threw on your clothes and wandered down to the kitchen to see what Melissa had left for you in the fridge. Sitting on the top shelf was undoubtedly a tupperware full of her insanely good spaghetti with a bright pink sticky note stuck to the top marked with your name and a little heart.

Y/N: Thank you! Will I see you later?

Melissa: Open house tonight. See you Saturday? 

Melissa: I’ll let you take me to dinner.

The thought of waiting two days to see Melissa next was brutal, but you would take what you got as rarely did she ever make plans with you in advance. 

Y/N: Let me? What an honor.

Melissa: Believe me. I know.

You were smiling at your phone through the rest of the day as Melissa texted you about little things happening at school. Sometimes the stories she told you about Abbott were hard to believe. 

Her attention made you feel lovesick as you were constantly checking your phone, smiling at the thought of her getting into shenanigans and doing her terrible impressions for her work friends. The thought of going on a weekend getaway with her was only sounding better and better.

Link to Chapter 7

Taglist: Taglist: @esposadejoyhuerta, @unicorniusfallapatorius, @sapphicxrat, @earpivore, @jeridandridge @petty-femme27, @darkcolorphantom, @a-queen-and-her-throne, @cosmichymns

[unofficial-underfell]

Hey guys, I've been thinking about making this post for a long time and I think its finally time I do so. After realizing that some of my last work was done over a year ago, I don't think I can really ignore it anymore. While I haven't quite thrown in the towel on this quite yet, it's pretty evident to me and I'm sure to everyone who still follows this blog that my fervor for the project has drastically decreased. And has been kind of dead for a while. The comic has not been a priority to me, or posting online much at all actually. I did some soul searching and found that I'd started relying on outside approval for my art instead of doing art for the sake of wanting to tell a story and express myself throughout my work. I have limited energy and depression and sometimes it feels like i get such little progress done even though it takes all of my energy. While I'm trying to go to the gym more and build better habits my energy levels and mood still have a lot to be desired, and I'd rather use the limited energy I have to work on something I'm more passionate about.

I've been trying to grow my skills and absorb more stories and I've moved around a lot and started to listen to what I really felt, and I found that a lot of the art I want to focus on deals with heavier and more mature topics. I do love this story, and all of the characters and I feel like I could make a really clever subversion of what is expected from an Underfell comic. But I feel like in these uncertain times with the world and with all of the stuff going on right now, I'd like to use my energy to work on stories that hit closer to the things that I feel are important. So that's why I've not been posting much.

I'm working on a book, and I've actually got quite a lot of progress done on it, but because of all the horror stories online about people stealing author's original works, I'm kind of holding off on publishing any chapters before I can copyright the first draft of the novel. So my online activity will still be pretty scarce for a bit, though I'll still post occasionally on my @cosmicpixel01 account. I'll try better to not be so radio silent though lol. Even if that means I'll post something boring about my dog or books I'm reading just so everyone knows I'm still alive.

I don't want to call it quits on the story. But I also feel like you guys have been kept waiting to see what happens for a really long time, and that makes me feel so guilty. I will try to finish up the pages I have in the works, and I'm probably going to switch to a different format that is some drawings, some writing to finish the story. I'm sorry that I wasn't able to finish it the way I intended for you guys, even with all of the support and kind words and even the fanart that I've kept in a folder on my desktop. I am letting a lot of you down, but I feel like the radio silence is probably more irresponsible than just going out and saying something. And I'm sorry I've kept you all waiting for a not-so-happy update on the blog.

I hope that some of you will continue to follow me for some of my other exploits and see whatever other things I have going on, but I understand that you all followed me for Undertale so I don't want you to feel any sort of guilt if you decide not to. I'm just happy you all supported me for so long.

I'll try to work on this blog again soon, and if anyone has any questions, my asks are open, though I'll probably keep the asks private. Until then I hope everyone stays safe out there. And from the bottom of my heart, thank you.

-Avery

[apocalypseornaw]

Love You Better (Pt 2/5)

Dean Winchester x Reader

After a successful Djinn hunt Dean starts to pull away from you but you have no idea why and he won't tell you either

Sam had ended up taking the backseat of the impala so you were curled up in the passenger seat, Dean's jacket over you like a blanket as you pretended to sleep so he would continue singing lightly along with the radio. When Dean wasn't being goofy he had an amazing singing voice even if he rarely showed it.

You'd probably been on the road a few hours when you felt the car slow and Dean reached over to tap your leg "Y/N you wanna quit pretending to sleep and walk in the gas station with me?" You opened one eye and grinned "I wasn't pretending" he shook his head but laughed "Next time? Don't smile when I sing along with your favorite songs" you pushed his jacket off then shrugged "Sing more often for me and I wouldn't have to pretend" he rolled his eyes then raised his voice slightly to say "Sammy! Want anything?"

Sam stirred from his sleep and rubbed his eyes "Bottle of water?" You turned to look back at him and laughed, his hair was a little wild "My brush is in the top of my go bag Sam. Feel free to use it"

-----------

Dean watched you as you looked over the water bottles, talking to yourself about the different prices versus the taste of the water. How the hell could you doing something so damn mundane make his heart flip?

He was so damn in love with you but hadn't said those words yet. He hoped you knew, hoped his actions spoke loud enough but knew he needed to tell you he just didn't know how. You stopped mid rant and glanced over at him, a small smile working its way onto your face "Like what ya see Winchester?"

He let his eyes flick across your body appreciatively before smiling himself "Very much sweetheart" you laughed and motioned to the water on the top shelf "Good, so that means you won't pick on me cause I can't reach the top shelf" he laughed and grabbed two of the bottles you pointed to "There ya go beautiful" you smiled "Thank you"

-----------

Once the three of you got back on the road you felt a small knot in your stomach grow. Dean and Jax had always gotten along before so you shouldn't have nothing to worry about but if the roles were reversed and Lisa was a hunter and you were helping her? It'd be awkward as hell.

You shook the nerves off when Sam drew you into talking about a book you'd both read. It would be fine, right?

Normally when the three of you would be meeting another hunter it would be at some cheap motel but instead you were meeting Jax at his garage.

He'd opened the garage a couple years back in Austin and had a small place nearby. He had managed to find a balance not a lot of hunters had, an actual means of income and a normal house while still hunting.

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

Dean cut his eyes at you as he pulled into the parking lot of the garage. You'd dozed off a few miles back and him nor Sam had wanted to wake you up but now they didn't have a choice. He glanced back at Sam who shrugged so he leaned over and gently shook your arm "Wake up sleeping beauty we're here"

You slowly opened your eyes at smiled at him "How long was I asleep?" He shrugged "An hour or so" you nodded and ran a hand over your hair to smoothe it down. "Ok then. Let's see what Jax has and then get to work"

He watched as you climbed out the impala and stretched. He wasn't jealous, not at all.

----------

Sam walked in first then Dean held the door open for you and walked in behind you. You glanced around at the office area you were in. There was a small desk that had a desktop computer sitting on it and a few filing cabinets. It was a simple area but decorated just enough to make it have personality. It fit Jax well.

You felt Dean's arm slip around your waist about the time you heard Jax's voice. He walked around the corner with his phone to his ear and smiled when he saw the three of you. He was about Dean's height, dark hair that he'd always kept cut short and blue eyes. From the looks of it he hadn't shaved in a few days because the stubble along his jaw was leaning closer to a beard.

He finished the phone call and nodded towards you "Thanks for coming" you smiled "Of course. So what's the case Barlowe?" He motioned towards the door "Let me flip the sign and close for the day then if you want yall can follow me to my place and i can catch ya up" "Sounds good" Dean spoke from behind you and Jax nodded "Give me five"

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

Dean stood between you and Sam as the three of you looked over the files Jax had on the case at hand. There was about half a dozen missing in Brushy Creek, a town about twenty miles from Austin and Jax had narrowed down the possible locations to about three warehouses.

"Seems simple enough" You spoke glancing from Dean to Jax. Both of them nodded before saying damn near in unison "Yeah but when is hunting ever simple" you cut your eyes at Sam who raised an eyebrow before saying "Should we get the lamb's blood here or there?" Jax tapped a place on the map "Here, there's a Butcher halfway we can get it from"

The plan was that Sam would go with Jax to clear one warehouse, you'd go with Dean then if both proved to be a bust the four of you would check the last one together.

You reached your left hand out to touch Dean's side as the two of you checked the warehouse. So far it had been empty. A part of you had hoped the first two warehouses would be it, kill the damn thing then grab a motel room and rest then head home come morning.

So far Dean hadn't said anything about Jax. You weren't expecting much but a part of you was wondering why. If roles were reversed.. no you couldn't be distracted.

A noise creaked somewhere in the warehouse and you spun towards it only to see a possum run across the floor. You let out a laugh "A freakin possum"

Dean reached out and pulled you closer to him "I think we caught a bust, there's one office left. We'll check it then call Sam and Jax to see how their end is" you nodded, falling in step with him.

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

You and Dean had just got there to meet Sam and Jax at the last warehouse. Good news was having four competent hunters, bad news was the last warehouse was absolutely fucking huge. The damn thing had three floors.

You looked over at Dean before getting out of the car. He smiled "Kiss for luck?" You leaned over and when your lips met you damn near melted against him. He always had that damn ability to make you forget your worries. When you pulled back he smiled "Let's get two rooms instead of one" you shook your head with a laugh "Save people first, take me to bed later"

----------

Somehow the four of you had gotten separated. You were on the same floor with Sam while Dean was one floor up and Jax was on the highest floor. Sam cut his eyes at you "You good?" You nodded "Yeah every woman's dream is to be hunting monsters with her boyfriend and her ex" Sam laughed and started to say something but then you heard Jax holler "DEAN LOOK OUT"

You and Sam looked at each other then took off running. By the time you two made it up to the second floor you were met with Dean down with one Djinn touching his face and Jax soon to follow since the other Djinns hand was going towards his face "HEY UGLY!" You hollered and both Djinn looked at you "Fuck, Sam some help?"

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

Sam ran to stab the Djinn over Jax so you ran towards Dean. The Djinn spun on you and you flipped your knife up "He's mine asshole" You threw the knife and caught him dead in the throat. When he went down you ran over and snatched it out then slammed it down into his heart.

Once he was dead you slid to Dean's side "Come on baby. Please wake up. WAKE UP!" Jax and Sam ran over and Jax handed you a vial "It's smelling salts. It'll bring him around"

You snapped the small vial and held it under Dean's nose. Once he inhaled his eyes flew open. "What the hell?" You let out a sigh of relief and let your head fall over onto his chest "You're ok. Thank God, you're ok" he touched your head gently "They dead?" Jax chuckled behind you "They're dead man"

Sam had gone with Jax to a local bar after the four of you made sure the vics had been taken to the hospital so that left only you and Dean at the motel. You'd been expecting him to want to finish what he started earlier but so far he'd damn near been avoiding touch.

He hadn't gotten in the shower with you and when he got out the shower himself he was awful quiet. You were sitting cross legged in the center of the bed watching him as he messed around in his duffle.

"Dean, are you ok?" You finally asked and he glanced up but his eyes still had that far away look "Yeah sweetheart. I'm just tired" you patted the bed next to you "Come on then"

---------

Dean wanted to talk to you, wanted to tell you the fucking world he'd been thrown into when that Djinn had poisoned him. All in all it was only about twenty minutes real world but with Djinn the timeline was always skewed. The way you looked at him as he climbed into bed next to you, he couldn't start that conversation. He loved you, he really did but fuck did he deserve you?

When you curled up next to him placing a gentle kiss on his chest he smiled despite himself. He wanted you, wanted a future with you but that damn dream world had confirmed what he'd already known. You made a mistake choosing him.

@marimarvelfan @suckitands33 @sushiumex @janineb86 @nix-rose @ladysparkles78 @globetrotter28 @holdingontil-may @freewastelandstrawberry @jackles010378

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA if i cut off someone reaching out for help on tumblr? i am a very anxious person. ive been on tumblr a very long time because most all other social media terrifies me as someone who grew up with the wild west internet a decade past (im in my late 20s) so i feel sometimes with how reckless and spurractic people can be online in chatroom and especially clearly public platforms where any stranger, malicious or otherwise can just archive your digital presence for personal use.

more recently as someone who has been here during the pornban and as an asexual really enjoyed the quiet with no drama farming and a slow pace to talk about more unique political topics in a measured way it is something im strangely nostalgic for and a great example of my sensibilities to people when they insist that i use other platforms like discord or twitter or whatever clone for these services comes out of the old guard introducing feature creep to copy everyone else or any other indi "were the anti corporate version" of the endless scroll apps. i just dont want it. tumblr is special because im desktop only, been here for years, and i have kept track of every single change made so i have manually adjusted the change through hacks to evade every bad decision on here and make my set up look identical to how it was in 2010. so let it be understood that i tend to be a loney person because of this stubbornness. web 3.0 is too dangerous to people with addictive tendencies that my adhd brings out and my need to wear my heart on my sleeve. so i hope i defended my personality type enough to show why someone like me would see a post about some horrible abuses they have fell victim to who also share alot of the marginalized status as me and writing depressive things in the replys of others posts as to attention seek about it.

i directly interact with this person, not only to check if they are real (but wow, modern chat bots make this part horrifying for me. we really cant ever know for sure what is real anymore. trying to find warmth on the internet feels impossible now a days) i have multiple conversations at this point both venting and just casually shooting the shit. but the begging for me to constantly repost their paypal makes me so nervous in a way that i feel so guilty for because it reminds me of all the scams that get associated with this kind of ebegging and the reminder that capitalism takes away all warmth from human interaction to make them purely transnational and conditional. but then it just has been escalating where im so scared that now its not enough that im reposing on my 8 follower, all mutual blog, they are asking me to share it on other socials. accounts i do not have i have a flip phone and a laptop and i am tinkering with a windows 7 tower that will never be connected to the internet so i can always have software sit perfectly in its time capsule for when i need it. i do not have a way to help this person outside of what i learned from collage psyche classes. a part of me is so scared to just abruptly cut them off and just delete my entire account like i tend to do often on tumblr for a multitude of reasons, its a part of what lets people survive being here this long but i worry that would crush them if i did that, i dont want to make them feel more hopeless and unwanted then they already talk about. but i am text on the internet through a screen. i can only do so much. so would i be the asshole if i just deleted my account with a "i hope you hang in there, the world is a harsh place but keep moving" to cut someone so similar to me who is struggling out of my life?

What are these acronyms?

[dol-dee]

So... you imagine DoL set in the early 2000s? ME TOO. Tell me more about that!

aaaaaaa yes I do!!!! (Sorry for the late reply haha. I kept forgetting to come back to this ask) I think I started to feel that way pretty early on, since there's hardly any electronics around in game.

You don't have access to a phone yourself (which, admittedly makes sense as an orphan) but electronics get barely mentioned in general. (I'm guessing the true reason for it, is that it would be too much of a hassle to implement electronics as a mechanic in game. bc arguably you should easily be able to buy a phone or w/e later on, if dol actually took place in our time) Named npcs often have phones to record you with (which I kinda forgot about tbh lmao) but unless in that context, phones don't get brought up at all iirc. None of the named npcs ever ask you for your phone number and Social media isn't really a topic of conversation either.

The only Computers that I remember mentioned in game are Leightons, Mickey's, Kylars and the one you can check in the police station. (I don't remember if Bailey even has one or not.) They are far and few between. They also all read as desktop computers to me and not laptops. Hell, the only gaming Console to ever be a topic of interest, is Robins. I don't think we hear of/see any handheld conosles at all. Even TV's rarely get mentioned.

Pop Culture, like manga, anime and games doesn't seem to be a big thing yet either.

All of that gives me the impression that most electronic is still pretty sparse and hard to come around and kinda reminds me of my childhood when those interests where still conisdered niche/nerdy and weird. The few characters that have desktop pc's seem to be ones that had/have enough money (like Kylar, maybe Bailey?) to foot the bill, are either in a high enough position of power to own one (like leighton) or they're involved enough in shady business that they might have the resources to have their own equipment (Mickey).

tbf a lot of my reasoning can be argued against or easily explained away, but I think dol is infinitely more interesting as a game/story when it's set during the early/mid 2000s, where most electronics were still hard to come by.

Oh and last but not least: it simply makes for easier story telling haha. I think there would be way more ""plot holes"" you'd have trouble explaining away if it was set during modern times. considering how much digital surveilance we have nowadays.

Aside from all the examples I just brought up, dol just has that 2000s grime to me. It's so grungy and dank in it's vibes that it always reminds me of that timeframe. Just has that kinda clunky/kitschy charm to it. (a more eclectic personal explanation is that the seasons in game still feel the way I remember them for my childhood. nowadays everything feels really out of wack thanks to global warming. Although I'm sure that people who are older than me would say the same haha)

to keep this already long post short(er lmao) I'm gonna go into some headcanons under the cut; Basically which Characters have electronics and why:

Avery: has an expensive af and extremely clunky looking (by todays standards) work laptop, that she sometimes lugs around. Also owned one of the first mobile phones. Those really big and blocky ones. Maybe even had one of those phones that were built into cars. However, I think shed be kinda annoyed by mobile phones*, even if she's extremely diligent in answering her calls. (the grind never stops) *based on this comic from 1919 about pocketphones: Mostly because she strikes me as someone who doesn't care to be overly accessible and also hates it when whatever shes doing at the moment gets disrupted by something else.

Alex: Canonically has a phone in game. To me it's a landline phone. They don't own much electronics beside it. They have no desktop pc and no mobile phone. (canonically the own a tv and I feel like they'd have a radio, maybe even an old record player) Bailey: It would make sense for them to have a desktop computer but I can't remember if they canonically (and with that I mean in game) do have one or not. I could see it either way tbh. As they strike me as a stubborn hard ass whos paranoid about electronics and quickly gets annoyed by it) They only own burner phones aside from the official landline phone thats designated for "over the counter" orphanage business. Eden: Has an old ass radio and an extremely dusty burner phone that bailey gave them once. They don't own anything else

Harper: has a mobile phone they got from Remy, it's purely for business. I don't think they have one for personal business. They own a pager though bc of the hospital. They probably have a desktop pc too if only for hospital stuff.

Kylar: Has a Desktop pc, their parents footed the bill for that many screened monstrosity (tbf i dont know enough to remember if old pcs are even able to have several monitors connected to them or not). Probably had a mobile phone once. Whitney stole it. They own a few consoles but they prefer pc gaming (pc master race /j) Some 2000s era games (with no consideration for an exact timeframe) that I think Kylar would be into are : Vampire: The Masquerade Bloodlines American McGee's Alice Shin Megami Tensei: Persona 3 / Persona 3 Portable The Urbz: Sims in the City The Sims 2 The Legend of Zelda: Majora's Mask

Robin: No mobile phone, the only electronics they keep around (until they inevitably need to sell them for emergency money) are an old tv and a gaming console. I have no concrete headcanons regarding the exact console and games unfortunately. (They seem to like superhero related stuff and I don't remember enough games that I associate with that direction of the top of my head)

Sydney: Has access to a landline phone but thats it. they don't have a mobile phone. Maybe they got to look at/ try out a pc at Kylars house once upon a time, but I don't think Sirris has one themself. I might be off with this but I could see Sirris being the one who bought a few early nintendo consoles like the SNES and Game Cube. Maybe even a gameboy.

Whitney: I don't think Whitney or their family is particularly wealthy so all of the access to electronics that they got, is either through wealthier friends, bullying or stealing. They have a mobile phone and probably a few handheld consoles they nabbed off their victims (in secret).

[jubileeena]

BEHOLD: MALWARE AU

So. We all know Turbo. He's kind of the flavour of the month right now. He's a horrible little piece of shit and we love him for that!

As a result of a couple posts that I'll link when I'm on desktop (or you can look through my blog its some of my most recent reblogs) and That One Video Essay I got to thinking about how much of Turbo's actions came from his nature, what cropped up out of desperation and jealousy, and what came from the nightmare virus that ate him. Then I got to writing. A lot. And now I have a monster fanfic that might or might not ever get written but I might actually explode if I don't share some of it.

This snippet revolves around Vanellope, mostly, and my continuous ongoing realization that modding/slightly retexturing video games is actually a lot easier than I thought it was. Enjoy!

Prologue

Vanellope hasn't been a part of her own game for 15 years. It's long since figured out how to function around her, but now King Candy's been dealt with via hot cola insecticide and she adamantly refuses to ride in his little vanilla-white kart. Not with her own baby waiting right there for her.

Except the game really really wants her to.

The kart bakery is supposed to be a fun side minigame. The kart lasts until the player stops feeding the game quarters, then it will restore itself to the default kart for the racer.

She's been carefully ignoring the crackling parts of code that bubble up around her when she revvs the engine too hard for days now, telling herself it was just remnants of her own glitch messing with her driving. But right after she crossed the finish line at the end of the final race of that day, it glitched so badly she was left lying on the track as it rammed itself into the boundary.

She'd spent most of that evening moping around and complaining under her breath about the mess her predecessor had left her - - until she thought huh. If Turbo could program his whole throne-stealing butt into the game, why couldn't she just... Slip in and fix her kart?

Sour Bill didn't seem happy at all when she slipped behind the curtain of her throne room (bleh. Needed to redecorate that soon. Way too princess-y for her taste), but he dutifully agreed to stand guard as she followed the instructions on the handy little piece of paper that lay discarded on the floor.

Up, up, down, down, left, right, left, right, B, A, START

Yes! She jumped into the darkness without thinking, entranced by the nebula of nodes and string of information that made the glitch constantly buzzing under her skin sing.

This is what she was meant for. This was why the game kept her around. It loved her.

Her node was easy to find, set in the center as it was with streams of code coming from it. She blipped up to it, and kicked her feet excitedly as she floated in place, and tapped it to enlarge it.

Wow, it really was easy. All she had to do was find her primary kart file, and swap it with the one in the Bakery's subfolder that held the information for her baby, and that was that. No wonder King Boogerface managed to mess things around so much, if what was all it took.

Task complete, she turned around to try and reorient herself to find the exit again, but a flickering node caught her eye.

It was strobing worse than any of the others, and there was no visible text on it to give any clue as to what it could be. She blipped over to it and tapped on it-

Only to be thrown backwards as it quadrupled in size, mangled streams of code now visible through it's translucent surface.

She glitched again to lose her momentum and stop somersaulting through the void, then back towards the code box. She reached a hand inside and flicked her wrist in a movement she instinctively remembered, and pressed confirm when the prompt came up to clear the cache memory.

It spluttered for a moment, then as if expelling a sickness the darkness bled from the body of the node and dissolved into the void, leaving behind a little red code box, smaller and less defined than the rest, connected to everything with only a thin strand but with it's pixelated text quite clear for her to read, and her breath hitched.

Turbo

[piratecaptainscaptainpirates]

About to post the first chapter of a fic that's so. It's just SO

I already mentioned this one over on the Gentlebeard fic hangout community (click the link on desktop or let me know if you want an invite) and here's a little preview for everyone who missed it because this one is SO GOOD guys you don't even knoooow

The premise of the AU is Ed and Stede are paranormal investigators, and most cases they get called to are nonsense, but when newlyweds Lucius and Pete call them out to the expansive property they were able to buy surprisingly cheaply, they're thrust straight into a mystery: what happened to Blackbeard and the Gentleman Pirate, and why are their ghosts so angry? The fic weaves modern AU scenes with canon-era scenes and it's very bittersweet and, in a word, haunting.

This one deals heavily with themes of grief, mourning, and the inevitability of knowing all stories ultimately must end the same way, so head's up there, and our canon-era boys end in tragedy in their time but - look at me - there's a happy ending. Here are the final entries from the Gentleman Pirate's journal, kept at the local maritime museum Stede sometimes visited as a child. He could never look at them for too long because the vaguely familiar handwriting unsettled him too much. (Behind a cut because they're SAD but if I'm sad I want you all to suffer with me lol)

I watched you dance in the clouds this morning. I wish you were in our kitchen again, dancing across the floor as we make breakfast. Our cat misses you. I yelled at her this morning because she wouldn’t stop crying for you. I feel awful about it now. I can’t stop thinking about how cold you must be right now. How much you’d hate the dirt.

I hate that we didn’t get our rings back. I can’t stand to look at my hand without it.

I keep thinking every sound I hear is just you. Walking around the house. Working in the library. Cooking in the kitchen. Nothing but ghosts of you, everywhere.

Please wait for me. I’ll be home soon. The grave in the garden won’t be satisfied until you’re in my arms again.