#endless 4 sided dive
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Endless 4SD
#liam o'brien#travis willingham#sam riegel#taliesin jaffe#orym#orym of the air ashari#critteredit#critical role#4 sided dive#4sd#cr spoilers#criticalroleedit#critroleedit#4sdedit#4sidededdiveedit#myedit#endless 4 sided dive
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Daylight || 02 (M)
PART 1
I don't wanna look at anything else now that I saw you
I don't wanna think of anything else now that I thought of you
SYNOPSIS: Between the endless flirty banter or secret looks of longing, the line between you and your boss had always been slightly blurred. But when a night out with friends has you and your boss meeting for the first time outside of the workplace, that line starts to become nonexistent as mutual feelings are brought to light.
PAIRING: CEO!Wonwoo x Assistant!Reader [with appearances by Mingyu (a self-proclaimed Cupid extraordinaire), Soonyoung & Joshua as supportive besties, Seungkwan & Seokmin as the life of the party, Seungcheol (a menace), and a brief glimpse of Chan.]
GENRE: Coworkers→Friends→Lovers!AU – Fluff + Smut [minors dni]
WORDS: 12.7k.
WARNINGS: Slowburn, pining from both ends. Reader is constantly in a silent crisis when it comes to feelings, and Wonwoo is possessive (both in and out of the bedroom). Mentions of alcohol, cursing, and grinding on the dancefloor. Wonwoo is a slightly hard!dom but talks you through it so sweetly it'll make you melt. Oral (both recieving), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), messy orgasms. Slight choking, dirty talk, alludes to squirting. Wonwoo is a pussy fiend.
A/N: We've made it to part 2!!! Thank you to everyone who left messages/comments on the first part! Seeing such positive feedback has made my heart soar to the heavens and honestly a little emotional hahahaha. This is the first thing I've written in almost 4 years so I was a little apprehensive when it came to posting 'cause I felt like I was incredibly rusty. Anyway, enough blabbering from me – I hope everyone enjoys the final part! 🥰
PLAYLIST: wonder by shawn mendes // right here by chase atlantic // with me by sum41 // never let me go by florence + the machine // love (feat. zacari) by kendrick lamar // wfm by realestk // mine (feat. drake) by beyonce // fine line by harry styles
The pounding in your head is a telltale sign of a night well spent when you wake up the next day, a groan emitting from your lips. Somehow Soonyoung had convinced everyone to migrate from the club to a karaoke bar halfway through the night, resulting in you stumbling home drunk off your ass at half past three in the morning. And while a hangover is a sign of a successful night out — you want nothing more than to shove your face back into your pillow.
Just as you maneuver yourself to dive back under the covers, your phone buzzes from beside you, the ringer doing absolutely nothing to aid your headache as you blindly reach for the device, not bothering to look at the caller.
“Hello?” You grumble, irritated at the disruption.
A deep chuckle ringing in your ear has your body shooting straight up from your bed.
“Rough night, sweetheart?” Wonwoo’s voice is teasing and you can’t help but feel your face flush at the endearing term.
“I — Mr. Jeon!” You stutter out, face flushing with embarrassment. “I’m sorry. I didn’t check to see who was calling before I answered.”
“Understandable,” he reassures. “With the amount of drinks we had last night I don’t blame you for sleeping in.”
Sleeping in…?
Bringing the phone away from your ear, you glance at the time on your phone.
10:45 am.
“Oh, fuck!” You cursed, ripping the covers away from your body as you scrambled to get out of bed. From the receiving end, Wonwoo can’t help but laugh as he hears the commotion on your side.
“Mr. Jeon, I'm so sorry —!”
“It’s quite alright, sweetheart,” there he goes again, using the term of endearment like it doesn’t send your heart hammering a mile a minute in your chest. “I just got to the office not too long ago. It’s not a big deal.”
But it is a big deal, you thought to yourself. Not once in the two years that you’ve been Wonwoo’s assistant have you ever been late. You pride yourself on being punctual, making sure to get to the office at least thirty minutes before you were scheduled just so that you could get everything set up and ready to go by the time you had to clock in.
“Sir I’m —“
“(Y/N),” Your breath catches in your throat at the sound of your name. “Are you in the office right now?”
Your eyebrows furrow at that.
“No,” you reply, confused.
“So why the formalities then?”
“I —“ you pause, trying to catch your breath from the sudden question. “You’re my boss. Am I not supposed to address you as such?”
“After last night, I’ve come to realize I don’t want you to call me anything but my name.”
Your face grows hotter at his words, flashes of the two of you unabashedly grinding against one another in the club fills your mind, and you’re sucking in a harsh breath as you try to ignore the heat growing in between your legs.
“Last night was kind of crazy, huh?” You bite your lip in nervousness, trying to steady your rapid heartbeat.
“It wasn’t enough for me.”
Oh, you thought to yourself. I’m fucked…
“Wonwoo,” you breathe out, and you can hear him sigh at the sound of his name.
There’s a brief silence on the other end and you’re starting to think maybe he’s regretting everything from last night to this morning until you hear his hum of approval.
“Anyways,” Wonwoo clears his throat. “Take your time getting to the office, sweetheart. You deserve a peaceful start to the morning.”
A soft hum escapes you at his words, an eyebrow quirking in amusement as you balance the phone between your ear and shoulder.
“Are you sure?” You muse, teasingly. “I’m scared the office will be in shambles by the time I get there.”
A chuckle reverberates from the receiving end, butterflies filling your stomach as your boss tuts quietly.
“I’ll have you know that Mingyu is doing a fine job —“
“No I’m not!” There’s a groan in the background, a giggle escaping your lips as you hear a scuffle on the other end. “He’s torturing me, (Y/N)!”
“I am not,” Wonwoo scoffs.
“He’s making me wait on hand and foot for him!”
You let out a full blown laugh at that, shaking your head at Mingyu’s dramatics.
“Aw, poor baby,” you coo. “He’s not used to having to do things for someone else.”
“Excuse me — hey!”
There’s a distant bang on the receiver, the sound of a lock clicking through the phone and Mingyu’s distant shouts as you realize Wonwoo had closed the door to his office.
“I should give him more work,” you hear your boss grumble. “He’s been far too happy these days.”
“I have some ideas,” you muse in response, making Wonwoo chuckle.
“Good,” he hums. “We can go over them when you get here.”
It’s half past twelve in the afternoon when you finally make it into the office, in a much happier mood than you are usually in when you arrive in the morning. An iced coffee is in your right hand while you carry your laptop bag in the other, greeting every scowling face you pass by as you make your way to your desk. Placing your belongings onto your station, you pay no mind to the mass of missed calls as you push open the door to your boss’s office. There’s a playful smile painted on your lips as you cross your arms over your chest, body leaning against the doorframe as Wonwoo looks up from his computer, the man smirking as he sits back against his chair.
“There she is,” he greets. “Did you have a nice morning?”
“I slept peacefully,” you respond. “But I was rudely awakened by a phone call.”
“Oh?” He asks with mock concern. “And who dares to wake the princess from her slumber?”
You bite back a smile, adjusting your weight from one foot to the other, and give him a pointed gaze.
“My asshole boss.”
Your response has Wonwoo throwing his head back, a genuine laugh escaping him as he grins at your words.
“Touche,” he beams. “It’s been a dull morning without you here.”
It’s a genuine sentiment that makes your heart pound against your ribcage, those damned butterflies fluttering wildly in the pit of your stomach, and you can feel your cheeks heat up as you bashfully break eye contact. Clearing your throat, you try to get a hold of the nervousness as you shoot him a questioning glance.
“Was Mingyu not keeping you enough company?” You ask.
“Not the kind of company I had hoped for.”
Wonwoo’s words make your breath catch in your throat, his sharp gaze heated underneath the thick rims of his glasses, and you felt your mouth go dry as you watched him lean back against his chair. Broad shoulders are slouched in comfort, his toned chest visibly defined through the tight fabric of his shirt. His sleeves are carelessly buttoned up to his elbows, the muscles of his arms making you want to salivate at the sight, and you can only blink at him before you snap out of your daze.
Unfolding your arms, you push yourself off of the doorway and gesture towards your desk placed right outside his office.
“I should get to work,” you murmur, making Wonwoo frown. “I'm already hours behind and I’m sure Mingyu didn’t do much to help.”
Not waiting around to hear his response, you turn on your heel and tread back to your desk, all the while trying to keep your heartbeat steady and those damn butterflies out of your stomach.
“Kim Mingyu, I'm going to murder you.”
The grumble falls out dejectedly from your lips as you glare at the screen in front of you, mentally cursing the tall businessman into oblivion. Not only had he rearranged the setup of your email, he had completely screwed up the excel sheet for next week’s company meeting. Every detail you had notated for Wonwoo was now scattered and jumbled amongst the cells as they sat in completely different categories than they had been previously. If you had been one of those old cartoon characters, you were certain that steam would be coming out of your ears.
Inhaling sharply, you crack your knuckles and your neck before hastily getting to work. The setback of sleeping in this morning has its consequences as you sit at your desk and try – keyword: try – to fix the absolute shitstorm that Mingyu had left behind. A task which ended up turning into hours upon hours of you clicking from cell to cell, meticulously moving each key point back to its designated section. There’s a slight sting in your eyes as your vision blurred from having to stare at the screen for so long, and you huff in annoyance as you save the excel spreadsheet, mentally waving a white flag as you give up on the document for the day.
Running your hands over your face, you glance at the clock at the bottom left of your screen.
05:54 PM.
Sighing in annoyance, you glance around the office. Most of your co-workers had left right at five, not wanting to spend another minute stuck in their cubicle. Had you not slept in, you would’ve gotten out sooner rather than later, but you wanted to make up for the time (and mistakes Mingyu had made) lost.
Hovering your cursor over your email, you clicked the envelope and stared at the unread emails on your screen. A quick glance over the senders names has you instantly weaning out the priority ones from the junk ones, before you’re opening one from Seungcheol. Skimming over his response, you can feel the air in your lungs tighten as your gaze freezes over the last sentence of his response.
Ms. (Y/N),
Your speedy response as well as the insight you have provided is much appreciated! It’s nice to know that the man I am working on this project with has such a reliable and efficient staff working for him. Please tell Wonwoo I am looking forward to this meeting next week.
P.S; I did not realize a congratulations was in order for the two of you! I wish you a happy and healthy marriage! Many blessings to you both.
Choi Seungcheol
– Personal Representative of Choi Industries
Glancing at the email Mingyu had sent from your account earlier that morning, your blood runs cold as your gaze darts to the signature printed on the screen below your response.
Much regards,
Jeon (Y/N).
“KIM MINGYU!”
You’re fuming as you bolt out of your chair and yell out into the quiet office space, the quickened pace of your heart pumping loudly in your ears as your angered footsteps walk away from your desk and down the hallway into Mingyu’s office. If looks could kill you knew he would be dead as his eyes widened, a pleading - almost puppy like - gaze falling on yours as he raised his hands in defense.
“I didn’t do it!” He denies, and you can only grit your teeth at the businessman.
“Bullshit,” you spat. “You were the only one on my computer today.”
“How do you know that?” He asks, defensively. “You were out all morning. Someone else could’ve used it.”
“Don’t play with me, Gyu,” you grit out harshly. “This is my job you’re messing with!”
Mingyu’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
“What are you talking about?” He questioned. “All I did was rearrange a few things -”
“My email signature!” You yelled, anger flaring through your veins as realization crossed his features. “Are you out of your fucking mind?!”
The defensive expression on Mingyu’s face washes into a smug one, brown eyes dancing with mischief as he smirks and crosses his arms over his broad chest.
“Oh, that,” he muses. “You don’t like it?”
“I am going to murder you,” you bite out, making Mingyu’s smirk widen into a shameless grin.
“It’s not that big of a deal -”
“What’s going on?”
You instinctively freeze at the deep rumble from behind you, eyes widening in alarm as you give Mingyu a warning glance. The man in front of you only beamed in delight as he leaned around your frame from where he sat at his desk to grin at your boss who was now standing behind you.
“Your assistant is threatening me,” he states, pointing a finger in your direction. “I don’t feel safe in this workplace.”
Wonwoo purses his lips, giving Mingyu an accusing glance.
“I’m sure it’s for good reason,” he muses. “She doesn’t just threaten anyone.”
“You’re taking her side?!” The businessman whines, slouching in defeat. “None of you in this office have my back.”
Your glare hardens as you stare at the man before you.
“Maybe if you weren’t such an insufferable prick we’d be a lot nicer.”
Mingyu’s mouth drops open at your words, hurt flashing across his features as his face falls.
“(Y/N),” he murmurs. “It was a joke.”
You could feel Wonwoo take a step closer towards you, the warmth of his body mere centimeters from your back as he towers over your frame to glare at Mingyu.
“What did you do?”
He doesn’t even have to raise his voice to get his point across, the harsh tone a warning in itself as he glowers at his friend.
Mingyu lowers his head in defeat.
“I changed her email signature,” he mutters, shamefully.
Wonwoo’s jaw sets.
“Changed it to what?” He asks. Mingyu’s gaze is still locked on the papers scattered on his desk.
“Jeon (Y/N).”
A wave of embarrassment crosses your features at Mingyu’s words as you fight off the heat that floods your cheeks. From behind you, you can feel Wonwoo inhale sharply, followed by an exasperated exhale falling from the CEO as he inched closer to your form. A fleeting touch of his fingers brushing against the small of your back has you freezing on the spot, your body not willing to move an inch as Wonwoo’s presence looms over you.
There’s a pregnant pause, no breaths taken, until a soft rumble reverberates against your back.
“Well,” Wonwoo begins, a smirk of amusement playing on his lips. “That explains the influx of texts and emails congratulating me on my marriage.”
A sharp turn of your head has your gaze falling on the amused CEO behind you, your eyes widening in shock as you stare at your boss. Mingyu lets out a bark of a laugh, a sigh of relief escaping him as Wonwoo’s eyes glint in the lights, his glasses long forgotten in his office as he quirked an eyebrow at you.
You’re rendered speechless at the two men, completely taken off guard at their unbothered stance on the matter at hand. Your weary gaze meets Wonwoo’s humorous one, your boss offering you a reassuring smile before he’s looking towards Mingyu.
“Go change it back,” he orders, giving his friend a warning look. Mingyu’s amusement diminishes instantaneously.
“Aw, c’mon,” he groans. “Is it really that big of a deal?!”
“Yes,” you grit harshly, glaring at the tall brunette. “It’s unprofessional.”
Mingyu pouts, eyes darting back and forth between you and Wonwoo.
“It wouldn’t be if it was true.”
His murmured words have your fists clenching at your sides, your lips parting to scold him once more when Wonwoo places a hand on your shoulder, urging you to stay quiet.
“Now.”
Mingyu flinches at Wonwoo’s order, his head hanging low shamefully as he begrudgingly pushes himself away from his desk. Wonwoo’s hand stays put on your shoulder, slender fingers gently grasping your body as he subtly pulls you into him as his friend trudges out of the office.
“And Mingyu?” He calls out, making his friend freeze on the spot as he half turns to look back at his boss. “Go pick up the food I ordered from Dae’s.”
Mingyu’s mouth falls open, a whine escaping him.
“What?!” He splutters, helplessly. “She’s the assistant -”
“And she’s assisting me with something else,” Wonwoo cuts him off. “Don’t make me tell you again.”
Closing his mouth, Mingyu hesitates, brown eyes scanning the two of you before he’s rolling them with a huff and walking away. You’re glued to the spot as Wonwoo’s sharp gaze falls on you, a frown painted across his lips. Without his glasses, there’s nothing shielding the piercing look in his eyes as he leans in closer towards you. There’s a flash of sadness crossing his features as he presses gently against you, his big hands finding purchase on the edge of Mingyu’s desk as he cages you between it.
“Mr. Jeon –”
“Wonwoo,” he corrects.
The deep rumble of his voice vibrates against your chest as he peers down at you, neck bent slightly as he lowers himself to level his gaze with yours.
“What’s going on?” You ask, swallowing the nervous lump in your throat as heat flares through your body.
Wonwoo’s frown deepens.
“Would it be so bad?” He asks, making you shoot him a confused look. You’re about to ask him what he means when he cuts you off. “Being my wife?”
Those damned butterflies flutter away in the pit of your stomach at his questions, your eyes widening in shock, and your lips part in surprise as you stare at the man in front of you. The close proximity of his body against yours has heat flaring through your veins as his warmth engulfs you, completely overtaking your senses as his hands move from the desk to slide along your arms.
“I – What..?”
Your spluttering doesn’t falter his movements once, his intense gaze boring into yours as his fingers glide along the expanse of your arms, leaving goosebumps in their wake.
“It’s a yes or no question, sweetheart,” he murmurs, his warm breath fanning against your cheek as his hands reach up to gently grasp your face.
You can’t help but to relish in his touch, eyes closing as you melt into his warmth, and your breath catches in your throat as he brushes his nose against yours.
“Answer me, (Y/N).”
Letting your fingers grasp around his wrists, you fight to catch your breath as you manage to meet his gaze despite the overwhelming fluttering happening in the pit of your stomach.
“No,” you finally answer. “It wouldn’t.”
Wonwoo’s grip on your face tightens, his eyes darkening with desire, and his lip curls upwards as he looks at you.
“I could make you my wife,” he states, and you almost whine with want as his lips brush against yours with every word. “Just say the word, sweetheart, and I’ll give you anything you want.”
“Mr. Jeon –”
“Wonwoo,” he growls, pulling you flush against him as his lips hover yours. “Call me anything but my name again and I’ll show you what happens to girls who don’t listen.”
A shaky breath escapes you at his words and you can’t fight back the shutter of anticipation as his lips ghost along the corner of yours.
“Wonwoo,” you breathe out, making him hum in response. “We can’t.”
“We can,” he reassures, and it takes everything in you to draw back from him.
“No,” you deny, even though every instinct in your body is screaming the opposite. “We can’t.”
Wonwoo clenches his jaw, lips pressed into a tight line, and he glowers at you as he shoots you a disapproving look.
“And why not?” He asks, gritting his teeth. “What are you so afraid of?”
“Well, for starters, you’re my boss,” you begin, trying to push away the heat pooling between your thighs as Wonwoo’s gaze pierces through yours. “That’s an HR violation that I don’t want to have attached to my name.”
“I can take care of that,” he counters. “Any violation towards you will be overruled.”
“That can be considered as nepotism,” you point out. “People are going to think I slept my way to the top.”
Anger flashes in his eyes.
“If anyone says anything negative towards you or about you I’ll have them blacklisted in all regions of this goddamn country,” he growls.
“Wonu.”
Cautiously you reach forward, your hands cupping his face as you try to settle the rage within him. His eyes are blazing into yours, a fire lit within the darkened irises, and he’s gripping your wrists like a lifeline.
“I mean it,” he affirms. “You’ve been with me for two years. Twenty-four months, (Y/N). You have shown nothing but loyalty towards me, and towards this company. You are the hardest working woman I’ve ever encountered, and the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid my eyes on.”
Your heart swells at his words, a shaky breath escaping you as he presses you back against Mingyu’s desk.
“You have never been just my assistant,” he murmurs. “And you know it.”
There are a million sirens blaring in your brain, signaling for you to back off, to pull away and resist the urges. But with Wonwoo’s warm breath fanning against your cheek, his sharp nose gently brushing against yours, there’s no hesitation within you as you card your fingers through his hair and pull him towards you, your lips pressing firmly against his.
A groan of approval reverberates against your mouth as Wonwoo clutches your body against his, the tall stature of his frame enveloping yours as he bends you back against the desk. The heat emitting off of his body courses through your veins as his needy lips move against yours, his hands dropping to grip the back of your thighs as he lifts you up onto the desk. Your nails dig into the nape of his neck as his tongue runs along the seam of your lips, begging for you to part them as he wraps your legs around his hips. A moan escapes you as your lips part, allowing Wonwoo’s tongue to meet yours in a haste that leaves you breathless.
You’re drawing back from him, in what was supposed to be a brief moment to catch your breath, but he’s chasing your lips with no hesitation. Greedy hands are gliding along your thighs before he’s clutching them, blunt nails digging into the flesh as he marks them with his touch. The action draws a mewl from you, a desperate whine escaping your lips as you reciprocate the action by digging your nails into his back. Wonwoo growls against your mouth.
“Are you challenging me?” He asks, words muffled against your lips. You smirk in response.
“Maybe,” you tease coyly, making him draw back from you.
There’s a dangerous glint in his eyes and he’s pulling you even closer towards him until your clothed cunt is pressed against his hardening bulge. The hand that held your thigh starts to slither upwards, calloused fingers teasingly brushing against the hem of your lace panties as Wonwoo dips his head into the crook of your neck.
His tongue flattens against the juncture that’s between your shoulder and your neck before he’s grazing his teeth along your skin, your breath catching in your throat when you feel him run his fingers along your clothed core. He smirks against your skin when you mewl in response, your hips lifting off of the desk as an attempt to gain more friction. Wonwoo tuts under his breath, digits teasingly brushing against your panties.
“Needy girl,” he remarks, nipping playfully at your neck. “I haven’t even touched you yet and you’re already soaked for me.”
You groan at his words, back arching as you try to press yourself flush against him.
“I’m always soaked for you,” you confess, and you nearly shiver at the flash of desire that sparks within his dark eyes.
“Yeah?” He asks, fingers now gripping the hem of your panties. “Have you been thinking about me, sweetheart?”
You can only moan in reply, hissing when the cool air of the office hits your bare pussy as Wonwoo slides your panties down your legs.
“Do you think about me being underneath your desk? About me being on my knees with my head between your thighs while I lick your cunt?”
Wonwoo’s words sends heat straight to your core, a whimper escaping you as he’s teasingly sliding his digits along your folds so he can coat them in your arousal. You could almost cry with the amount of tension between your thighs, your cunt begging to be touched as he levels his face with yours, dark eyes fueled with desire as they meet yours.
“Or do you think about me bending you over my desk and fucking you from behind?” You watch as he brings his fingers up to his mouth, his tongue licking your arousal clean off of them.
The lewd sight has you keening with want, your hands reaching out to grab his belt buckle as you blindly undo his pants. Wonwoo clenches his teeth before catching your wrist and pinning it next to you on the desk. The action causes you to smirk up at him, a feigned innocence playing on your features.
“Don’t start something you can’t finish,” he grits, making the smirk on your face widen.
“Oh, I have every intent of finishing you.”
Wonwoo opens his mouth to retort when the distant ‘ding’ of the elevator echoes in the hallway, your eyes widening in alarm, and you hastily push your boss away from you as you scramble to climb off of Mingyu’s desk. Standing back on your feet, you can’t even spare a glance toward the man who just had his tongue down your throat (and who is now shoving your forgotten panties in his pocket) as you straighten your skirt and power walk back to your desk, trying to ignore the aching that settled between your thighs.
“Are you going to tell us what the emergency meeting is for?”
Soonyoung and Joshua’s worried gazes make you want to shrink into the booth, the after effects of what you and Wonwoo had done in Mingyu’s office weighing on you like a dumbbell crushing your chest. You had fucked up and let your desire get the best of you instead of listening to the rational part of your brain — and it was eating you alive.
A heavy sigh escapes your lips as you guiltily look down at the menu on the table.
“Something happened between Wonwoo and I,” you muttered, shamefully.
Soonyoung and Joshua blink, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
“Isn’t… isn’t that what you wanted…?” Joshua asks, and you frown.
“Well, yes, but —“
“No but’s, (Y/N),” Soonyoung tuts. “Clearly you and Wonwoo have feelings for each other. Something was going to happen eventually.”
“Yes, eventually,” you clarify. “Not this soon! Especially not with me and him almost fucking on Mingyu’s desk.”
“WHAT?!”
The sudden outburst from the two of them echoes in the diner, earning dirty looks from the other customers as you palm your face in embarrassment. Your cheeks grow hot as shame washes over your body, a groan escaping your lips as you peek at your friends, both of which are staring at you with wide eyes and open mouths.
“It just happened, okay,” you defended yourself. “One minute I was telling him we can’t pursue anything and the next I’m on top of Mingyu’s desk with Wonwoo’s tongue down my throat.”
“Okay, first — ew,” Joshua grimaces. “I don’t need a visual.”
“That’s kinda hot, actually,” Soonyoung counters. “Fucking in the workplace? Nice.”
“Shut up,” you hissed, glaring at both of them. “This is a serious issue.”
Joshua purses his lips, his gaze scrutinizing.
“Not really,” he dismisses. “From everything you have told us, it sounds like he reciprocates your feelings, honey.”
“Yeah,” Soonyoung agrees. “And I saw you two at the club the other day. Whether you want to admit it to yourself or not, both of you are down bad.”
You roll your eyes at Soonyoung’s words, scoffing as you take a sip of your water.
“And besides,” he continues. “He’s your friend —“
“He’s my boss,” you reiterate. “I’m his assistant, Soonyoung. That’s unprofessional.”
“It’s only unprofessional if you make it unprofessional,” Joshua states. “I’m sure if the two of you became official you’re not going to flaunt it at the office.”
“Even if they did, who cares?” Soonyoung shrugs. “Employee relationships happen all the time.”
“Yes, employee’s date each other. Not bosses and their assistants.”
“I don’t know if I believe that,” Joshua clicks his tongue in disapproval. “Have you ever watched ‘The Nanny’?”
“Seriously, Shua?” You rolled your eyes. “First off, that’s a TV show, meaning it’s fictional. Secondly — she was his nanny, not his assistant.”
“But the point still stands,” he continues. “The two of them fell in love regardless of their positions. And they didn’t care who found out or what would come of it.”
You sigh, knowing he’s right.
“HR is going to have a field day with this,” you muttered. “And I’m going to get fired.”
Soonyoung shrugs as he takes a sip of his drink.
“Who cares,” he dismisses. “You can’t help who you gain feelings for. And, besides, if you get fired Wonwoo can take care of you.”
“I don’t need someone to take care of me,” you snapped. “I want to keep my job.”
“And he’ll make sure you will,” Joshua reassured you, gently placing his hand on yours. “But you have to talk to him, (Y/N). He has feelings too.”
Your shoulders slump in defeat at his words, a heaviness weighing on your heart, before you’re reluctantly nodding.
“You’re right,” you concede. “I’ll talk to him.”
Settling back against the booth cushions, Joshua offers you a smile of encouragement before he’s picking his menu up from the table.
“Alright, now who’s hungry?”
You did not, in fact, talk to Wonwoo.
Instead, for the first time in the two years that you had been working for him, you called out sick.
You knew that Joshua and Soonyoung were right when they told you to talk to Wonwoo, to lay out all feelings and thoughts in order to understand what it was that was going on between the two of you. But the mere thought of being in a room with him after what had happened in Mingyu’s office and the thought of not being able to trust yourself around him was too much, that all of the pent up feelings and tension would end up causing both of you to snap and make a move that would ultimately change your dynamic forever – as if it hadn’t already.
You knew that if Mingyu hadn’t gotten back to the office at the time that he did, the situation between you and Wonwoo most definitely would have escalated into something more. You knew that Wonwoo had been seconds away from dropping to his knees and spreading your legs, licking and sucking until you were a writhing, crying mess on his friend’s desk. And that’s why you called out.
“What do you mean you’re not coming in?” Mingyu had asked, exasperatedly.
“I’m calling out,” you reiterated. “I don’t feel well.”
“I –” Mingyu paused, a heavy sigh following. “Why are you telling me and not Wonwoo?”
There had been a brief pause on your end, your throat tightening as your mind had flashed back to the events days prior.
“Gyu, please. Just tell him I’m not coming in today,” you begged. “I’m sorry.”
You should’ve caught the worried tone that had been in Mingyu’s voice. You should’ve known that he would’ve caught on to your pitiful lie, that he was going to run straight to the source itself to find out what the actual reason for your calling out was.
But most of all, you should’ve predicted that Wonwoo’s persistence and stubbornness would get to the better of him.
A knock on your door pulls you out of your thoughts, your eyebrows furrowing in confusion as you wearily walk over to it and peer out of the peephole, your breath catching in your throat as you stare at the man who stood outside of it.
With his hands shoved in the pockets of his slacks, glasses perched on his nose, and a determined expression on his face stood Wonwoo. Those damned butterflies are fluttering wildly in the pit of your stomach at the sight of your boss, your heart speeding up as you contemplate not answering the door – but you knew better than that. You knew that despite you calling out this morning that Wonwoo was going to want an explanation. That despite your best efforts to deflect from the situation just days before, he was going to want to discuss the matter at hand sooner rather than later.
Taking a deep breath, you allow yourself a moment to collect your composure before opening the door.
You stare dumbfoundedly at your boss, shock lit across your features as you stand in the doorway.
“How – how did you get my address?”
Wonwoo’s expression is stony, his gaze piercing yours through the thick rims of his glasses, and you catch the movement of his jaw clenching as he glares at you.
“You’re avoiding me.”
His tone is cold as he deflects your question and the harshness of his voice makes you wish the ground would open up from beneath you and swallow you whole, all the while suddenly painfully aware that you’re standing in front of your boss in nothing but your oversized sleep shirt.
“I – I’m not avoiding you,” you stuttered out. “I wasn’t feeling well this morning.”
Wonwoo’s eyes narrow into a menacing glare.
“You and I both know that that is a lie.”
Pushing past you, you watch open-mouthed as Wonwoo makes his way into your apartment, a bolt of panic rushing through you as you fumble to close the door behind you. His back is to you as he faces your living room and you watch as his hands slip out of his pockets, fists clenching and unclenching by his sides before he’s turning to look at you in the doorway.
“You called Mingyu,” he bites out, menacingly. “Instead of calling me, your boss, you called Mingyu.”
Swallowing the lump that had formed in your throat, your feet shuffle nervously as your gaze drops to the ground.
“I didn’t want to bother you,” you say quietly, making Wonwoo scoff.
“Cut it out, (Y/N),” he spats. “You bother me more often than most of my other employee’s do.”
There’s a blow to your ego at his words as your head snaps up to look at him, hurt flaring in your eyes as you glared right back at your boss.
“Then why keep me around?” You ask, harshly. “If I’m such a fucking bother to you why not fire me?”
Wonwoo grits his teeth, anger flashing in his eyes.
“Because I cannot fathom the idea of my life without you in it!”
The sudden confession knocks the air out of your lungs, your lips parting in shock, and the butterflies multiply tenfold as Wonwoo stares at you with a gaze mixed with fury and desire. You’re frozen to the spot as Wonwoo steps closer, the intensity of his stare igniting your body on fire as the warmth of him envelops you.
“Whether it’s having you as my assistant or to just simply bask in your presence,” he begins, his voice lowering. “The thought of not seeing you even for a day makes me want to go crazy.”
Your back presses against the door as he leans in closer, one arm perched above you as he looms over you. Your breath is caught in your throat at the close proximity of him, the scent of his cologne filling your senses and clouding your judgment as he levels his face with yours.
“You’re all I think about, you’re all I dream about,” he continues, gaze softening as he presses closer to you. “You have infiltrated every part of my being since the moment you first walked into my office.”
A shaky breath escapes you as your heart soars at his words, and your hands ache to reach out and hold his face.
“Wonwoo…” You catch the flash of desire in his eyes as you mutter his name. “There is so much at stake for me if we pursue this. I could lose my job –”
“I will take care of you,” he cuts you off, matter-of-factly. “I know that’s probably not what you want to hear but if it comes down to it, I will take care of the damage I’ve caused if it means I get to keep you in my life.”
Your gaze softens at his words.
You knew the stakes, you knew what was going to happen the moment you and Wonwoo solidified crossing the lines – you knew that your position as his assistant was over. Everything you achieved in the last two years had been for him, had been because of him. Wonwoo was your biggest supporter, whether he voiced it or not, and you hadn’t realized until recently that your admiration for his hard work and brilliant business mind had morphed into admiration for him – Jeon Wonwoo. Not the CEO you had worked for day in and day out. It was for the man who encouraged you to speak up in meetings despite your lack of status, the man who would go out of his way to bring you lunch, flowers, or gifts when he knew you were having a bad day. It was for the man who stood before you pouring his heart out despite the repercussions.
With shaky hands you’re reaching out to cup his face, your thumbs gently stroking his defined jaw as you peer up at him.
“I have grown to care for you, Jeon Wonwoo,” you murmur, and Wonwoo lets out a shaky breath as he presses flush against you, trapping you between his body and your front door. “In a way that assistant’s probably shouldn’t care for their bosses.”
A half-hearted laugh escapes him at that, his eyes twinkling in amusement, and you can’t help but to grin up at him. He’s still looming over you with one arm pressed against the doorframe, his other wrapping around your waist before he’s tilting his head down to yours. Warm lips encase themselves around yours and you can feel your heart beating against your ribcage as he kisses you slowly, passion pouring through him. You can feel your breath escape your lungs as you kiss him back, completely relishing in the taste and feel of him pressed against you as he kisses you earnestly.
Drawing back slightly, there’s a fleeting moment between the two of you as you stare into each other’s eyes, a silent acceptance of the lines between you becoming nonexistent, and it’s nothing short of a relief as you’re both pulled by an invisible force back to one another.
Your hands move to entangle themselves in his raven locks, fingers tugging at the roots as your lips fuse together in a frenzy. Wonwoo groans against your mouth as his arms move to wrap around your waist, his body flush against yours as your lips lock in fervor. As he tilts his head to the side, his tongue dips out from his lips to run along the seam of yours, which part almost instantly in response. A deep rumble reverberates from his chest as his tongue traces every nook and cranny of your mouth, almost as if he was memorizing every detail. Wonwoo’s hands move from your waist down to the hem of your sleep shirt before he’s teasingly gripping the hem of it and drawing back from your mouth.
Teeth graze over the skin of your neck as Wonwoo presses you back into the door, nimble fingers sliding underneath the hem of your shirt as he latches onto the pulse point on your neck. Your lips part in a wanton moan as he sucks a mark into your skin, his warm hand encasing around your bare breast. Arching your back into his touch, you’re keening in pleasure as Wonwoo pinches the sensitive bud between his thumb and pointer finger, a smirk dancing across his lips at your response. He’s grazing his nose against your neck before clutching your hips.
“Wanna taste you,” he breathes out, his breath fanning against your skin. “Wanna devour you until your legs are shaking.”
You can barely keep your vision focused on him as you watch him sink to his knees, his sharp gaze piercing into yours as his hands glide from your waist to your thighs, his lips curling into a feline-like smirk as you whimper in anticipation. Sneaking them underneath the hem of your shirt, he’s tugging at your panties before pulling them down your legs and tossing them aside. You watch as your boss hitches one leg over his shoulder, his piercing gaze never leaving yours as he leans forward to run the tip of his tongue along your soaked folds.
A moan escapes your lips, your head tilting back and resting against the door, and your fingers tangle in his tresses as he hums appreciatively at your response. Blunt nails dig into the flesh of your thighs as Wonwoo completely sheaths his face between your legs, unabashedly licking at your cunt. Shameless moans are falling from your lips as Wonwoo licks without abandon, his nose pressing into your clit as he mouths and sucks at your core. Your nails are digging into his scalp, body arching off of the door as you relish in the feel of his tongue. Your body feels like it’s on fire as his hands glide underneath your shirt, warm hands encasing around your breasts before he’s squeezing them.
A deep growl resonates from him before his head is completely disappearing underneath your shirt, his mouth flush with your cunt as he grips your beasts, a harsh suck to your clit as he shakes his head from side to side, tongue gliding along your folds in a way that has you crying out into your apartment, his name falling like a mantra from your lips as your hands claw at his clothed back.
“Wonu, oh, fuck…!”
There's a sly smirk dancing across his lips as you feel him tilt his head, the tip of his tongue circling your clit until he’s flattening it, sucking it harshly into his mouth as he hums against you. Heat pools in the pit of your stomach at his ministrations, your chest heaving with pleasure until he’s reaching behind you to grip the flesh of your ass and pulling your cunt flush to his mouth.The pressure of his tongue flicking against your clit is enough to have you unraveling against him, a cry of his name escaping you as your body does exactly what he wanted it to.
Your thighs clamped around his head as he brought you to your release, your nails clawing at his clothed back as you lurch forward in pleasure. He’s lazily lapping at your folds, licking the remnants of your essence up as you tremble in ecstasy. The soft kitten licks at your core have you whimpering from the overstimulation before you can make out the muffled groan from underneath your shirt as Wonwoo draws back, his face shining with remnants of your arousal as he licks his lips. His hair sticks up slightly from being trapped between your legs, the glasses that were perched on his nose completely fogged up, and the sight of your boss’s disheveled appearance is so erotic it gives you enough incentive to fist your hands through his hair before pulling him up to you.
You taste your arousal on his tongue as his lips meet yours, your hands fumbling with the buttons on his shirt before you’re undoing them and all but ripping the fabric off of him. A growl reverberates into your mouth as he grips your thighs and hauls you up, locking your legs around his waist.
“Where’s your room?” He asks, words muffled against your lips.
“Down the hall to the right.”
It’s a clash of tongues and teeth as he’s gripping you close to him, blindly navigating the two of you down the hall and kicking your bedroom door closed before he’s laying you on your bed. Your nails rake down the expanse of his broad back as he tugs your shirt up and over your head, throwing it carelessly as he revels in the sight of your naked body in front of him. His hungry gaze rakes along every bump and curve, his glasses slipping down his nose as he takes in the sight.
His tongue pokes out to wet his lips before he’s leaning down to hover over your body.
“You’re fucking exquisite,” he breathes out, greedy hands plucking at your nipples as he sucks a mark into your chest. “Better than any dream I’ve ever had.”
Your breath hitches at his words, another pool of arousal flooding between your thighs as you arch into his touch.
“You’ve dreamt of me?” You ask breathlessly, and Wonwoo lifts his head from your chest to give you a look full of desire.
“Sweetheart, I’ve dreamt of you every night since the day you’ve stepped into my office.”
You mewl as his lips enclose around your pert nipple, his teeth clamping around the bud as he tugs harshly before encasing his mouth around the mound, your body arching off the bed as you cry out in pleasure. Wonwoo smirks against your breast, his hand kneading the other before he’s switching to enclose his mouth around the other. Gripping onto his broad shoulders, you’re rolling your hips against his clothed cock.
“Tell me,” you whimper, reaching a hand in between your bodies to pluck the button on his slacks. “Tell me about everything you’ve dreamt of.”
Wonwoo growls against your skin as you undo his slacks, his teeth gritting when he feels you slide your hand into his briefs and grab onto his growing cock. Grabbing onto your wrists, he’s pinning them above your head as he hovers over your body, a menacing look in his eyes.
“You want to know everything, sweetheart?” He asks, the term of endearment dripping from him like velvet and you mewl as you wriggle in his grasp. “You want me to tell you about how I've spent countless nights envisioning you underneath me, taking my cock every which way until there were tears streaming down your face?”
A shameless moan wracks from you as his hold on your wrists tightens, his eyes darkening in desire as he rolls his hips into yours.
“You want to know about all the thoughts I’ve had of you tied to my bedpost, red silk on your wrists and your body all mine to use?”
Wonwoo growls as his free hand slithers down your body, his fingers dipping to your cunt as he coats them in your arousal.
“Or about how I want to mark every single inch of you to show anyone who even dares to breathe in your direction that you’re mine.”
You mewl, your body writhing underneath him as you try to gain any kind of friction between you that you could. Smirking at your attempts, Wonwoo teasingly runs his digits along your folds, before he’s pushing two past them, not stopping until they’re buried to the knuckle. Your hips grind into his touch as his name falls from your lips, your hands trembling underneath his hold as he scissors the two digits against your velvety walls.
A coo falls from him as he relishes in the sight of your pleasure-filled expression, his lips twisting into a feline-like smirk as he slips a third finger inside, his thumb pressing against your clit as he flicks his wrist, the digits delving deeper inside of you as he thumbs against your sensitive bud.
“But the thought I’ve had that’s haunted me since day one,” the smirk never falters from his face as he peers down at you with desire. “Is the thought of you soaking every inch of my bed as I make you cum over and over again. And, while, this isn’t my bed – it’ll do for now.”
Your mouth opens in a soundless scream, your back arching off the bed as Wonwoo slips a fourth finger inside of you, the heel of his palm pressing against your clit before he’s pressing down onto the bundle of nerves. Pleasure shoots up your body as you claw at the one that was pinning yours to the bed, nails digging into the back of his hand as he curls the digits inside of you. They’re brushing against a spot that has your thighs clenching around his wrist, a sadistic grin dancing across your boss’s lips as he watches you writhe under his ministrations.
“Wonwoo, please,” you beg, sobbing with pleasure. “Please – oh fuck, let me cum, please.”
Your voice is broken, muddled into cries of desire as he palms your clit, and he’s leaning down to lick a stripe down the valley of your breasts. His eyes are completely locked on your pleasure ridden face as he litters marks along your body, teeth sinking into any visible part of your flesh he can reach.
“Come on, sweetheart,” he coos, smirking deviously. “Give it to me.”
The heel of his palm is ruthless against your clit and your body is folding in half as your thighs clamped around his wrist, a shriek of his name reverberating off of the walls as his fingers curl against the spot that sends your body into overdrive. There’s a tightening in your lower body that sends a flash of heat through you, your eyes clamping shut as you cum – hard.
Wonwoo growls at the sight before him, his desire filled eyes taking in the sight of your arousal dripping down your thighs and soaking your sheets, and he’s speeding up his ministrations on your clit. His sharp gaze is locked on your pulsating cunt while your body reels into overstimulation, cries of pleasure ripping from your throat as your cunt leaks shamelessly. Your back is completely arched off of the bed, fluids leaking from your core, and you’re almost crying out of relief when Wonwoo slips his fingers out of you and loosens his grip on your hands – only for you to grip his hair when he latches his mouth onto your overstimulated cunt.
He’s licking with no abandon, lewdly slurping every last drop of your release as you sob with pleasure. His arms are tucked underneath your thighs as he pulls you until you’re completely sheathed against his mouth. The overstimulation has you writhing against him, and you’re mustering up enough strength to push his head away as you let your body come down from the intense release.
Wonwoo chuckles as he watches you sink into the sheets, cooing at you as exhaustion washes over your pleasure ridden body. Soft kisses are littered along the inners of your thighs, and Wonwoo peers up at you through his eyelashes as you tiredly lift your head from the bed.
“You’re doing so good,” he praised, softly nipping at the flesh of your thigh. “My good girl.”
Despite the intense orgasm you had just experienced, your cunt pulsates with desire at his praise. Biting the inside of your lip, you’re whining softly as you tug at his hair, ushering him up to you. Wonwoo lets a wild grin grace his lips as he allows you to pull him up, his lips slotting against yours lazily as he cages you between his body and the bed. Shaky hands make their way down the expanse of his chest and Wonwoo gasps against your lips when you tug his slacks down, a foot sliding between his legs so that you can push them off of him.
“Sweetheart,” he mumbles, trying to break away from your lips only to have you grab the back of his head to keep him still. “What are you doing?”
A mischievous glint is in your eyes as you shoot Wonwoo a filthy smirk, your hands clutching at his biceps before you’re mustering enough strength to roll the two of you over and pinning him to the bed. Your lips trail from his down to his jaw, teeth grazing over the sharp definition as your hips settle over his. Your hands are trapping his wrists and pressing them into the mattress as you trail your tongue over his neck. Wonwoo growls underneath you, his sharp eyes glaring at you through the thick rims of his glasses.
“I can’t be the only one having fun,” you coo, teasingly against his skin.
Wonwoo grits his teeth as yours graze over his skin, a hiss falling from him when he feels you suck a mark into the juncture between his neck and shoulder.
“Don’t worry about me,” he bites out, wrists breaking free from your weakened hold. You ‘tsk’ at him, breaking away from his neck to frown.
“It’s my job to take care of you,” you affirm, shooting him a pointed look, and you can only bite back a smirk when Wonwoo’s lips curl into a snarl. “Let me take care of you, Mr. Jeon.”
A near pornographic groan escapes your boss’s lips at your words and you can’t help but to grin with satisfaction, your lips trailing from his neck to the expanse of his chest. You keen with satisfaction as Wonwoo’s fingers tangle in the tresses of your hair while you litter marks down his chest, peering up at him through your eyelashes as you reach the hem of his briefs. A salacious smirk paints your lips as you tug at them, discarding the garment without care as your tongue trails along the patch of hair leading to his bulging cock.
Your gaze never breaks from his as you situate yourself between his toned thighs, your hand wrapping around him as your lips part to lick at the beads of precum dripping from his tip. The grip he has on your hair tightens as you coat his head with it, a soft hum escaping you before you’re descending onto his cock. Wonwoo tenses, the sharp tug on your tresses making you whine against his cock, and he groans in ecstasy as your tongue lolls around him. He’s gathering your hair into a makeshift ponytail as he struggles to keep his eyes open to peer down at you, completely mesmerized by the sight of you in between his legs. Inhaling through your nose, you suck in a breath of air before taking him in until his tip brushes the back of your throat, your hand reaching to cup his balls.
“(Y/N)...”
Wonwoo’s growl only encourages you further as you slide completely off of him, a smirk on your lips before you descend once more until he’s sheathed back into the warm cavern of your mouth. He’s tugging harshly at your tresses, hips pistoning off of the bed, as he shamelessly thrusts into your mouth. The grip you hold on his balls tightens gently, making expletives fall from the man as you swallow around him. The deep timbre of his voice combined with the harshness of his thrusts and tugs on your hair has your core dripping with anticipation, your body screaming for him to be inside of every part of you.
Wonwoo’s eyes are hooded, gaze full of desire, and he’s watching you bob your head on his cock, swallowing around his girth and knowing that if he let you keep going he wasn’t going to last much longer. So with your hair in his hands, he’s tugging you off of him with a snarl, his grip moving to latch onto your hips as he all but throws you on your back. Your eyes widened at the sudden change of position but then you’re keening in delight as the tip of his cock prods at your dripping cunt, your hands reaching up to claw at his broad back.
“I’m not cumming until I’ve felt your cunt around me first.”
The bite of his words sends another wave of heat flowing through you, your body completely lighting on fire as he guides himself to push past your folds, your lips parting in pleasure as your cunt swallows the thick girth of him. Your nails are clawing at his broad shoulders as Wonwoo’s teeth grit together, his nose brushing against yours as he slides in until he’s completely sheathed to the hilt.
“God, take me,” you moan, wantonly – shamelessly. “Make me yours.”
A cocky smirk dances across your boss’s lips as he draws his hips back, sharp eyes drinking in your naked form as he coos at the sight.
“You want to be mine, sweetheart?” He asks, teasingly. His lips ghost over yours as he moves to grip your wrists in his hands, effectively pinning them above your head. “You think you deserve it?”
A defiant look crosses your features as you peered up at him, a deep frown on your lips as you dig your nails into his skin in retaliation.
“I’m the only one who deserves it.”
Wonwoo’s gaze bores into yours, his lips curling into a feline-like smirk before his hips slam into yours, your back arching at the contact and your nails digging into his wrists as he all but hammers into you.
“Wonwoo – oh, fuck – !”
He’s mouthing hotly at your bouncing breasts before his teeth clamp around your nipple, tweaking the bud with his tongue as his hips pistoned into yours. Cries of his name fall from your lips as he thrusts relentlessly, sharp eyes peeking over the mounds of your breasts as your body stays arched in pleasure. He’s relishing in the sight, a smirk of satisfaction playing at his lips as he licks his way up your neck, lips hotly pressing into yours as his tongue delves into your mouth.
“You’re mine,” he growls against your lips, teeth biting onto the flesh as he tugs. “Mine.”
He briefly lets go of your wrists only so that he can grip your thigh with one hand, the other keeping your hands pinned above your head. He’s positioning your leg over his shoulder, his body descending onto yours as he rolls his hips, a groan escaping him as your cunt clenches deliciously around him. Your eyes are squeezed shut, completely lost in the intense pleasure of him as he grips onto your calf. Blunt nails dig into your skin as he speeds up once more, teeth gritting with pleasure as he sucks a mark into the sensitive spot on your neck. Your hips rise from the bed as you try to match his movements, a cry of his name falling from you when the head of his cock brushes against a spot that has you seeing stars.
“Right there!” You cry, clenching mercilessly around him. “God, Wonwoo, don’t stop!”
His grip on your leg loosens as he reaches down to press the pad of his thumb against your clit, a sinister smirk painted on his lips as he looks down at you.
“How’s it feel, sweetheart?” He asks, hips speeding up as he thumbs harshly at the sensitive bud. “Knowing that I’m all yours? That I’m only yours.”
You’re writhing beneath him, thrashing under his body in pleasure as his ministrations on your clit grow more erratic. Your vision is blurred with tears of ecstasy, Wonwoo’s name falling from your lips like a broken mantra, and you can only grip his hand as the heat in the pit of your stomach grows with every thrust.
“S- so good,” you stuttered out, completely lost in the feeling of him. “You’re mine, baby. Only mine.”
The term of endearment earns you a growl of approval, Wonwoo prying your lips apart with his mouth as his tongue licks along yours.
“Yeah?” His voice is deep, the timbre laced with husk as he licks into your mouth. “My cock is all yours, isn’t it, sweetheart?”
You keen at his words, a whine falling from your lips as your thighs quiver with pleasure.
“All mine,” you affirm, moaning. Wonwoo smirks against your mouth, his teeth sinking into your bottom lip as he thumbs at your clit with vigor.
“And this is all for me, isn’t it?” His question is spoken into your mouth, tongue sweeping over yours as his hips slam into yours.
“Only you, baby,” you whine, lifting your hips to meet his thrusts. “I’m yours.”
Wonwoo growls at that, his lips curling into a feline-like smirk as he lets go of your hands – only to grab you by the throat as he lifts you up until your chest is pressed flush against his. Your lips part in surprise at the change of position, one arm wrapped around his broad shoulders as the other fists through his locks, your cunt clenching around him as the new angle drives him to be completely sheathed inside of you as he sits back on his legs to hold you up.
“Damn right, you’re mine.”
Wonwoo’s words are muffled against your lips, the man looking down at you with a fierce glint as his thumb presses to your throat, effectively cutting off the air to your lungs and making your breath hitch. You clutch desperately at his tresses, your nails clawing at the skin of his back as he drills his cock inside of you, his free hand reaching back in between your bodies to rub your sensitive clit as he urges you to cum.
Your lips are parted in a silent cry, the stimulation between his thumb and his cock driving you closer and closer to the edge as your thighs clench around his hips, your back arching in a way that has your chest pressing into his, and the lack of air in your lungs has your head reeling in ecstasy as your high washes over you in a violent wave. You’re trembling beneath his ministrations, your cunt clenching deliciously around Wonwoo’s length as he coos at you, his thumb releasing off of your throat as you gasp.
“Mm, my good girl,” he praises, hands clutching your hips. “Where do you want me?”
The relentless drills of his hips against yours has you fighting to catch your breath as you struggle to answer him. Wonwoo’s rhythm grows erratic as he nears closer, your body arching into his movements as you clutch his shoulders in order to stay upright.
“My – my mouth,” you manage to breathe out, making Wonwoo smirk in anticipation.
You almost regret answering him when you feel him pulling out of you, the brisk air hitting your now empty cunt as Wonwoo settles you on your knees. His hand encases around your head as he pushes past your parted lips, groaning when his cock hits your tongue. You mewl around him, jaw slack and eyes locked on his as your tongue laps lazily at his leaking tip, swallowing every last drop of his release. His fingers tangle in your hair as he thrusts harshly into your mouth, the head of his cock brushing against the back of your throat as he cums. A hum of delight escapes you as you lewdly lap up the remnants of his release, your name falling from his lips as he tilts his head back in ecstasy.
His glasses slid off the bridge of his nose from the beads of sweat that had collected there and landed carelessly next to you on the bed, his sharp eyes softening into a look that was nothing short of adoration. His fingers release their grip on your tresses as his hands cup your face, his cock sliding out of your mouth as he lifts you to slot his lips against yours.
Humming against your mouth, Wonwoo’s thumbs graze your cheeks as he draws back to look into your eyes.
“You did so well for me, sweetheart,” he murmurs, nuzzling his nose against yours. “Such a good girl for me.”
Your heart swells in your chest as you relish in his touch, your body completely spent from the intensity you had just experienced, and your eyes hood over in exhaustion as Wonwoo gingerly lays you back against the pillows. The warmth of his body envelops yours as he holds you close to him. A half-hearted smile paints itself on your lips as you reach up to trace the outline of his lips, a hint of sadness ghosting over your expression.
“You realize this means I can’t work for you anymore, right?”
Your soft murmur makes Wonwoo frown, and you almost whimper with hurt at the crestfallen look on his face.
“I know,” he answers quietly, offering you a small smile. “But that doesn’t mean I’m losing you.”
Wonwoo turns his head to meet your softening expression, his gaze boring into yours as he clutches you to him.
“I meant what I said earlier,” he continues, nuzzling his nose against yours. “I will take care of you, (Y/N). I will fix any damage I’ve done to your career, to your reputation – just as long as I get to keep you in my life… If you even want me after all of this.”
“How could I not want you?” You asked, quietly. “You are everything and more to me, Wonwoo. It just took me a couple years to realize it.”
Wonwoo chuckles at that before leaning down to place a chaste kiss to your lips.
“Even if I cost you your job?”
You purse your lips at that, pretending to think before looking up at him in amusement.
“I can think of some ways you could make it up to me,” you teased, making Wonwoo growl playfully. “Starting with a bath – hey!”
Wordlessly you’re being lifted in his arms, a shriek of surprise escaping you as Wonwoo tosses you over his shoulder, effortlessly carrying you into your adjoining bathroom.
“That can be arranged.”
[15 new messages]
From: Soonyoung
Hey honey! Just a heads up… Wonwoo asked for your address. Don’t know why or what for but I gave it to him so expect a visit from him soon…
... But I’m gonna assume it’s for what I think it is…
… so you’re welcome ;)
From: Joshua
Soonyoung just told me Wonwoo is going to your house
USE PROTECTION!!! I'M NOT READY TO BE AN UNCLE ;_;
From: Gyu
Wonwoo is missing
He left the office hours ago and hasn’t come back
(Y/N)???? Hello????
This is a serious matter!!!! Where are you??!?!?!??
Are you seriously going to ignore me?
Just because you called out sick doesn’t mean you can ignore ~me~ your friend!!!!
To: Gyu
She’s busy
From: Gyu
I –
OH??? MY GOD????????
IT’S ABOUT FUCKING TIME YOU TWO!!!!
Also – ew
Don’t ever send me a picture like that ever again
Epilogue
“How are the reports looking, Mrs. Jeon?”
Lifting your head from the pile of papers lining the table, your gaze falls on your boss as he walks inside the conference room, a warm smile on his face. Offering him an encouraging one back, you gesture towards the pile in front of you as you lean back against your chair.
“Everything we’ve discussed is in order and ready to go for the presentation.”
Your boss grins, dimples indenting in his cheeks.
“I knew I could count on you.”
The conference room door opens behind your boss, your eyes darting to the tall stature who was now leaning casually against the doorframe, arms crossed over his broad chest as his sharp gaze falls on you.
“Hello, sweetheart.”
No matter how many times he calls you that or how much time passes by with you waking up to him every morning, your husband’s voice never fails to send an array of butterflies abuzz in your stomach. You can’t help but to let a salacious smile grace your lips as you bat your eyes at Wonwoo.
“Mr. Jeon,” you greet, flirtily. “Looking mighty handsome as always.”
Wonwoo clears his throat, his eyes narrowing into a playful glare as he gestures towards your boss.
“You’re lucky Seungcheol is here,” he tuts, shaking his head. “Otherwise I’d have you over this desk –”
“Hey, hey!” Seungcheol cuts off your husband, waving an accusing finger at him. “No flirting with my assistant during work hours!”
Wonwoo holds his hands up in defense as he backs up from Seungcheol, a wide grin on his lips as he bows apologetically.
“Sorry, sorry,” he chuckles. “I’ll behave.”
His words promise good behavior, but the smirk on his lips and the mischievous glint in his eyes say another as he sits across from you at the table, his heated gaze never leaving yours. From beside him, the younger man who had taken a seat next to him had a grin on his face as he peered over at his boss, eyes looking back and forth between you and Wonwoo.
“It’s good to see you, Mrs. Jeon,” he greets, making you beam at him.
“It’s good to see you too, Chan,” you grinned. “I hope my husband hasn’t been running you ragged like he had done with me.”
Chan laughs softly, eyes twinkling with humor as he shakes his head.
“Nothing I’m not already used to.”
It had been two years since you had left Wonwoo’s office and became Seungcheol’s assistant.
In hindsight, Joshua had been right about how casual and common it was for a CEO to have some kind of relation with their assistant.
Despite your acceptance of the notion that you could lose your job for pursuing a relationship that exceeded company policy, HR hadn’t batted an eye when you and Wonwoo had confronted them. They simply brushed it off, insisting that it wasn’t uncommon for such a thing to happen between two people who were constantly in such close quarters with one another. And though you would have loved to continue working with your boss - now husband - it was in your best judgment to resign as his assistant and to look elsewhere.
You loved the job, you really did. But continuing to work for the man who you slept next to every night didn’t sit right with you – especially when you knew how fussy other co-workers were when it came to workplace relationships. So rather than wanting to deal with whispers of gossip behind your back, you had taken Seungcheol’s offer in becoming his assistant instead – much to your husband’s dismay.
“If you so much as even look at her in any way that’s not professional or business-like, I’ll ruin your career faster than you can blink.”
Seungcheol gulps, nodding furiously to the taller man who was currently holding him by the collar.
“Noted.”
Seungcheol claps his hands together, breaking your intense eye contact with your husband as you reluctantly look towards your boss.
“Alright,” he beams, looking at the occupants at the table. “Let's get this ball rolling.”
You have always prided yourself on your stellar work ethic. You always paid attention during meetings, took notes when it was needed, and made mental notes of things that could be bookmarked and used for later projects. But that sufficient work ethic always flew right out the window when it involved the man sitting across from you.
You’re peering at your husband from the corner of your eye, biting back a laugh as you smirk slightly. Adjusting your posture, you’re leaning back against the chair while you stretch your legs out underneath the table, discarding one of your heels as you let your foot graze against Wonwoo’s calf. You press your lips together in a line to fight back a grin, stifling a giggle at the desire that was now pooling in the darkened eyes of your husband as he subtly reaches down to grab your leg.
“Stop it,” he mouths, making you feign a look of innocence.
“I’m not doing anything,” you mouthed back, making Wonwoo’s sharp eyes narrow into a glare.
He’s trapping your leg between his toned thighs, a move which he almost instantly regretted as you flexed your foot to press against the hardening bulge in his slacks, the CEO sucking in a breath as he all but clutches your ankle in retaliation. Blunt nails dig into your skin as he sends you a look of warning only to grit his teeth in annoyance as you peered away from him with a smile, keeping your focus on Seungcheol as he spoke.
Wonwoo’s heated gaze stays locked on you throughout the meeting, sharp eyes glaring from behind his thick rimmed glasses as he shifts uncomfortably for the next hour. And once Seungcheol had declared a brief break, he’s pushing your leg away from him and stomping out of the conference room. Chan’s eyes widened in alarm at his boss’s abrupt exit, the assistant beginning to stand before you’re holding your hand up, halting him from following after your husband.
“I’ve got him, Chan,” you reassured the man, smiling brightly. “You know he gets in those moods sometimes.”
Not waiting for a reply, you’re stifling a laugh as you walk out of the room, gaze scanning over the office before you’re heading towards the elevator. But before you can even make it halfway, you’re being pulled into a doorway, your back pressed up against a wall as Wonwoo glares down at you, his body towering over yours.
An amused glint is in your eyes as you grinned up at your husband.
“You really pulled me into a supply closet?” You asked, and Wonwoo reached to grab your chin, tilting your face up to look at him.
“You have a lot of nerve, sweetheart,” he hissed. “Getting me hard while I’m trying to focus on the meeting.”
You feign a look of innocence as you reach for his belt buckle, pulling him in until he’s pressed flush against you.
“Don’t pretend you didn’t like it,” you drawl, flirtily. Wonwoo smirks as he drops his hands from your face, opting to grip your thighs instead as he lifts you up and presses you back into the wall.
“Such a naughty girl,” he tsk’s, rolling his hips into yours as you tighten your legs around him.
“You love it,” you tease, nipping playfully at his bottom lip. Wonwoo’s gaze softens momentarily, his face lighting up as he adoringly stares at you.
“I love you,” he corrects.
Leaning forward he’s connecting your lips, kissing you slowly as he pours his emotions into it — into you. You hum against his mouth, your hands reaching up to run through his hair as you kiss him back. His tongue slips between the seam of your lips before meeting yours, his nails digging into the flesh of your thighs as he licks into your mouth.
“We have to get back,” you murmur, making Wonwoo groan, your husband squeezing your ass playfully as he rocks against you.
“I’ll come up with an excuse,” he mutters and you chuckle against his mouth before pulling away.
“This is an important meeting, baby,” you retort, making Wonwoo — big bad CEO, Jeon Wonwoo — form the most adorable pout as he looks down at you with an expression akin to a kicked puppy.
“But I only want to be around you.”
Giggling quietly, you reach up to cup his face as you kiss him softly, nuzzling your nose against his.
“If you can make it through the next two hours, I’ll fuck you in the back of the limo on the way home.”
Wonwoo laughs at your words, his head tilting back happily before he kisses you with a smile.
“First off, it’s going to be me fucking you,” he points out, letting you place your feet back down on the floor. “Which I was planning on doing after the meeting anyways.”
You grin at him, laughing happily as you readjust your clothing.
“Great minds think alike, I guess,” you jest, and Wonwoo mirrors your grin as he leads you out of the supply closet.
With an arm wrapped around your shoulders, he’s leaning down to press a kiss against your temple, lips brushing your ear.
“I love you, sweetheart,” he murmurs, making your heart soar in happiness as you beamed in delight.
“I love you too, Wonwoo.”
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I understand things have been dry in Outlander land but even desert dry has me smh. Ladies, if you have to try that hard to shit all over SH, I’m not saying it makes you a hater but it sure as shit doesn’t make you a liker.
Back after a bit- admit it, we all need to occasionally take a break- I feel I needed to pace myself during the drought. But after a bit of scrolling, I felt compelled to dive right in. Isn’t this fandom about fun, entertainment and guilty pleasure? That’s why I’m here. So why the endless posts from the SH haters? Do people dislike SH, enjoy the snark or just think the man is stupid?
So just for fun (or insomnia) I thought I would play a short game of SH: Stupid, Smart or just SMH?
1. SH and Cons/Private events for $
Why do people have such a problem with SH trying to make a living? Most if not all actors part of a series or movie franchise participate. In my opinion SH is doing it now, so he won’t need to in his 60’s to pay the rent. While most fans are priced out of the more exclusive events, all I can say is the paying fans are the only ones that never complain. Supply and demand. If any charitable component is part of the deal, great. So can we finally put a line under this?
Verdict: Smart as hell
2. SH always “Shilling” SS to his Fans and on SM
Uhm, he is the brand. It’s his company. Can it be a bit much? Yes. Promotion to the fan base and the use of sm is marketing 101. In order for people to try the product they need to know about the product. We can disagree as to his methods or success to date, but fans are not the only ones buying bottles. As for the constant and consistent presence of AN with SH during events? Suddenly they are a couple? WTF. AN is a business partner. He owns part of the business. They both work hard promoting SS, and so far it looks like they will continue to release more SS. Ladies, don’t put your lawn chairs away yet!😉
Verdict: Smart
3. SH and boundaries with his fans
Regardless of the letter you attach to SH, he is a recognized actor around the world. Definitely a people pleaser, in imho, he will happily take a selfie with anyone. Obviously, he never wants to disappoint any fan, but his lack of boundaries and security at events can be cringe worthy at times. If a female actor was touched, mauled, or asked to sign fans boobs or t-shirts it would be a #me too moment. Someone, anyone in security or a handler needs to be bad cop if he won’t. How far is too far?
Verdict: Stupid with a side of SMH
4. SH as a Philanthropist and Charitable Causes
This one really bugs me. MPC has raised over $6m for charity. SH’s name attached to any cause raises awareness and $. The BS from the haters who discount this based on the fact SH apparently never donates his own money is petty nonsense. Gentleman’s ride is one example. Agree it was his female fans that made it happen. And? This is my only fandom but SH is held to an impossible standard. Apparently he is a hypocrite in his support for clean oceans because someone on his team had a catered lunch using single use plastics. Great topic for discussion, but the man didn’t throw the containers in the ocean. Also let’s not judge a person’s commitment based on sm posts. SH can literally, yes ladies literally never win. Thankfully the causes he supports do. I dare you to disagree.
Verdict: Smart
5A. SH’s dating life
According to an extremely ardent part of this fandom, SH has dated😉 every fit blonde 👱♀️ within a 250 mile radius of everywhere. I wish that someone would keep track of all the mysterious initials and lack of any literal proof of these women. This is where I separate the snark from the hater’s. While I’m in owe of the investigative skills of some, and enjoy the gossip-even though mom thought gossip was a sin, sorry mom- not all women aka initials welcome the attention. Any woman save CB that SH is remotely warranted or not attached to, has an avalanche of hate comments and 💩emoji in their future, welcome or not. Personally, I believe SH, goes out of his way to protect the people he cares about, and perhaps even those he may not. I think we can agree he is not a monk. However an actor is entitled to privacy. Ginger Jesus included.
5B. SH ‘s Sexuality
From the beginning, 3 years for me, I’ve read posts about someone who knew a friend of a friend of a bartender’s friend who knew for a fact SH had a boyfriend. WTF. You know the drought is real when this bullshit gets recycled. We all know the question has been asked and answered by SH. More than once. Next.
Verdict: SH keeping his private life private: Smart as hell.
6. SH and the use of all things Outlander related
If you don’t get it, I don’t have the time and am too lazy to explain it to you.
Verdict: Smart. Smart as hell
7. SH and CB
The only real problem here is obvious. And I don’t know why the fans or even the haters- btw, I use the term haters like I do profanity- perhaps not the best word, but like GFY, FU, MF, C, etc. I’m lazy and it saves time and no confusion to whom I address. So where the actual f&ck is the audition tape we all want to see? You know the part of which I speak. If only the fandom investigators could put aside any petty differences and uncover the SH, CB chemistry kiss tape? I’m not saying it will be a unifying and CTJ moment, but it would give SH fans something to make the drought less….thirsty.
No verdict necessary. 👩❤️💋👨😚😉
And last but definitely not least…
8. SH and Thirst Traps
Ladies, because of Outlander and all things Outlander related, we’ve had the pleasure to observe SH from every view and lovely angle. Come on, if you 👀 closely it’s all there. Why the actual f&ck people in this fandom have a problem with his shirtless posts is beyond me. Not only is he promoting the results a good fitness regime can produce, he is literally, yes literally giving his fans something they want. And don’t even try me with- you’re treating him like an object. This is a 100% consensual relationship. And if the word “hater” seems harsh about the same gang that complains and shits all over his shirtless thirst traps, then please find me a better name.
Verdict: Smart as hell and thank you
So for those who may not get it, this post is silly and something for my handful of friends or any SH fan to have a laugh. If anyone has the patience to read the entire thing😉 So any comments are welcome, but to the people or person sending awful and cowardly anon messages: save your time. Or GFY. See what I did there?🤓
#outlander#outlander season 7#sam cait#sam heughan#sassanach#men in kilts#men in kilts 2#waypoints#clanlands
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Goodnight, Moonlight
A/N: Y’know, I’m actually super proud of this fic. I was unsure of myself and the direction that I wanted to go, but I ended with something that I really like. Please let me know if you want another part, I’d love to continue the story and see where our lovebirds end up next. ;)
TW: Cannon-typical levels of violence and gore, aquatic fighting, mentions of drowning, reader is described to be physically strong and have typical traits and skills that a victor from District 4 would have (dw I can’t swim but I can be delulu), reader maintains their obliviousness, slightly OOC! Peeta and Katniss (I've never written for them before so please excuse any flaws), poison fogs, reader and Co. sustains multiple injuries, death (no main character death yet)
Pairing: Finnick x GN! Reader (”one-sided” romantic to shared romantic)
Summary: As you’re thrust into the arena, you’re forced to focus on keeping yourself alive, keeping your mentor and Katniss from harming one another, and keeping ahead of the endless perils that are thrown your way. Mixed signals from Finnick eventually even out, and a moment of clarity brings you two closer together than you’ve ever been before.
(<- Previous Part | Next Part -> | Series Masterlist)
Finnick can’t die or get captured by the Capitol. It has to be me.
That’s your first coherent thought as the pedestal stabilizes in the arena. You find yourself growing oddly… familiar with this environment, these few seconds where nothing yet everything matters.
You can’t see Finnick or Katniss, but you recognize Johanna’s fiery red hair. You also spot Wiress and Beetee close together, and you let yourself relax for a moment before the canon fires.
Water.
You dive into the water without a second thought. Swimming is as natural as breathing, given your home district, and you easily outrace your competitors to the rocks that lead to the Cornucopia. You climb on the rocks with ease, and you’re running towards the center of the arena until you spot blonde hair struggling to swim in the water.
Peeta.
You don’t hesitate to switch course and dive in after him. Helping Peeta would not only get you further into Katniss’s good graces, but it would be right on target with your image in the Capitol.
That’s exactly the kind of thinking that Finnick encouraged.
You push your mentor out of your mind as you quickly peek above water and spot another male heading towards Peeta. His eyes are dripping venom, but you’re not scared to shoot a murderous look back.
Sunny was a sweet mentor, a respectful celebrity, and a dangerous tribute. You could manage to be all three - as long as you did so with a smile on your face.
“Don’t be afraid to smile,” President Snow chides as you nervously stare at the carnations as his desk, “you know that’s what the people want to see, right?”
The image of Snow’s head on a large spike is enough to motivate you to swim faster than your competition.
You push Peeta out of the way before landing a punch to the face of the other man. From a quick assessment, you weren’t as strong as this man, but he couldn’t fight in water like you could.
You dodge an uncoordinated swing to your left side before landing another hit - this time you punch his chest. He takes a bigger breath as his eyes meet yours.
You offer a warm smile before he tries - and fails - to land another hit. You look over for just a second, just to make sure that Peeta’s still in your peripheral vision, before the other tribute tackles you under the surface of the water.
You immediately thrash around as he tries to keep you under - a lucky breath saves you from drowning as you manage to free yourself from his grasp.
He’ll drown if he tries to drown me.
You emerge from the water, and the warm air that enters your lungs causes you to cough violently. You grab onto a nearby pedestal as you try to locate Peeta in-between coughing fits.
You spot Peeta as he throws a punch at the man, and your head snaps to the Cornucopia as your breaths even out. From a distance, you see a man with a trident looking for someone, and you take a bet on who that might be as you wave a hand in the air.
Finnick immediately rushes around the Cornucopia after he spots you, and returns with a black-haired girl who you could recognize from a mile away.
You swim towards the rocks before finally making your way out of the water. The warm air on all of your skin feels like relief in its sweetest form - one that is most welcome as you realize how drained you are from one simple encounter.
It has to be the water because I cannot be a weakness right now.
You point out Peeta in the water once Finnick and Katniss get closer, and Finnick doesn’t hesitate to dive in as Peeta continues to struggle in the water.
For the first time in a long time, you fear for his safety. Peeta’s a teenager, just like you were, but he’s already back in the arena.
This isn’t fair.
Words die on the tip of your tongue - comforting people was your speciality, but Katniss didn’t appear to need comforting as she raises her bow and prepares to fire an arrow.
When Peeta and the other tribute are submerged underwater before Finnick gets to them, Katniss reluctantly puts down her bow as she stares expectantly into the water.
You jump when the canon fires, and the hope in her eyes turns to fear as a still body emerges from the water. You’re scared to look because if it’s Peeta-
Thankfully, Peeta emerges from the water as Finnick reaches him, and they both swim back safely as you and Katniss share a relieved expression.
Katniss watches the Cornucopia as the careers gather there and stare her down, and you grab Finnick’s trident from the rocks.
It doesn’t feel right in my hands - it’s like this weapon was meant to be with Finnick.
You hand Finnick his trident after he gathers himself, and you watch Katniss take Peeta’s hand and help him out of the water.
“You alright?” Finnick places a hand on your shoulder, and the weight of your earlier realization crashes down on you as you nod.
You can’t let Finnick get hurt, but you can’t let him know that you feel this way about him because you know how he feels about-
“I’m good, thanks,” You gently place your hand on his, “but you really couldn’t grab me a weapon?”
The serious expression melts off his face as he chuckles slightly, and you feel a bit self-conscious as Katniss and Peeta stare at you like wild deer.
“I didn’t have time, and I know you’re better with your fists, sweetheart.” Finnick replies to your teasing with a smile as he lets go of your shoulder.
You find yourself missing his touch - don’t think about Finnick like that - when Peeta steps towards you.
“Thank you fo-“
“You can thank me when we’re out of here, okay?” You interrupt him before another cannon sounds. “I don’t feel like becoming prey for the predators.”
Katniss glances back at the Cornucopia one last time as the four of you make your way towards the beach and into the thick forestry that awaits you.
~
Your quartet runs into the forest as Peeta leads with Katniss right behind him. Finnick allows you to go in front of him with a handsome smile and welcoming arm gesture (you’d have to tease him about that later).
Your mind wanders as your feet effortlessly navigate the forest floor - playing tag on rock beaches and having some experience in rock climbing did have its uses, after all.
Does Finnick mean what he says when he calls me sweetheart, or is it apart of the Capitol facade? I suppose I’m not much better - does Finnick know who I truly am behind the sunshine?
The distinction had become unclear for yourself - you were kind, but that wasn’t all that you were. You liked to tease your mentor and be a thorn in his side, but you also wanted to help the children in your district understand that there is life outside of the games. Couldn’t both sides of you coexist at the same time?
“Okay, hold up, hold up!”
Finnick’s voice causes you to pause as your breathing catches up with the rest of your body - you’d run a long distance without being phased in the slightest. You need to take breaks so you could be energized for a possible encounter, but a quick look back assures you that the Cornucopia is out of sight and, for now, out of mind.
Peeta’s the first to sit, and you’re quick to follow as you watch Katniss scan the environment for any possible danger. Finnick catches up and sits next to you. Katniss reluctantly kneels as you start to fan yourself - you’re in a jungle, not a forest, and it’s fucking hot.
“God, it’s hot,” You wipe the sweat from your forehead as Peeta speaks, “we got to find fresh water.”
You glance over at Finnick, who offers you a reassuring nod. You notice that Katniss is watching the two of you, but you choose not to say anything. She’s paranoid and overprotective, and who wouldn’t be?
A booming cannon pushes everyone’s attention to the sky, which is quickly followed by a second and third cannon.
With his bright smile and a small laugh, Finnick tries to lighten the mood with a simple joke.
“I guess we’re not holding hands anymore.”
You briefly smile and chuckle under your breath before Katniss chimes in.
“You think that’s funny?”
Your eyes widen as you glance over at Finnick to see how he handles her aggression.
“Every time that cannon goes off, it’s music to my ears. I don’t care about any of them.”
“Good to hear.” Katniss draws a machete from her back as you place a hand on Finnick’s arm.
You’d always be there for him, and you’d fight off Katniss if that’s what it took, but you needed her alive, along with Peeta. Although you had know her for such little time, you saw your younger spirit in her - the feisty, brash child that fought with her heart in her hand.
“Wanna face the career pack alone?” Finnick pauses for a beat before asking her another question. “What would Haymitch say?”
“Sunny, you have to know that Katniss doesn’t play nice with others.”
“But she was nice to me, Haymitch-“
“You’re odd, just like she is. Maybe you can find some common ground and convince her to not shoot Finnick the moment he opens his mouth.”
“…Thanks.”
He’d probably tell you, at this very moment, to grab a drink and enjoy the show, but you had to keep the peace.
For his sake, for Peeta’s sake, and for my sake.
“Haymitch isn’t here.” Katniss coldly answers while slightly lowering her machete.
“We should get going.” You glance over at Peeta, who nods in acknowledgment.
“Yeah, let’s keep moving.”
You pull yourself off the ground, and Peeta does the same while Katniss stares daggers into Finnick.
“Play nice,” You mumble under your breath to Finnick before walking over to Katniss, “and I’m sorry that his ego can get in the way sometimes. He’s a nice guy, I promise.”
You offer Katniss a hand up off the ground as a truce, and a small smile appears and then quickly disappears off her face as she takes your hand.
~
“For the record,” Finnick mumbles as you walk with him behind Katniss and Peeta, “I was playing nice. She’s just a bit… rough around the edges.”
“Sounds like someone else I know.” You roll your eyes as Finnick bumps your shoulder.
“First you say I have an ego, and now this,” He sighs before playfully pushing you ahead, “I’m starting to think you don’t like me, Sunny.”
You feel your face start to heat up as you begin to fidget with a part of your clothing.
If only he knew how much I really liked him-
“Of course I do, Finnick.” You bite your lip while hoping that he doesn’t notice the effect his words and lingering touches have on you.
Don’t think about this right now-
“I’m glad someone here does.”
His comment earns his a golden stare down from Katniss, and you lightly smack his shoulder before continuing on in silence.
Peeta cuts through the vines ahead as creatures of the jungles - ones that you hope aren’t here to eat you - make various noises that only set your nerves over the edge. Katniss falls behind you and Finnick, and you can only hope that you’ve set her mind off of killing Finnick, even if it’s just for a moment.
You continue to walk on, but you pause once you hear Katniss’ footsteps stop. Finnick doesn’t take notice of the situation, but you can tell that she’s seen something worthy of alarm.
Peeta continues to swing the machete when you see a small reflection of light on a bush in front of him. Your eyes widen in alarm as you take a small step back.
The forcefield-!
“Peeta, no!” Katniss screams at Peeta strikes the forcefield.
Sparks fly as you instinctually cover your eyes with one arm, and you use the other arm to shield Katniss as much as possible. Peeta is blown back by the impact, and you’re knocked to the ground along with Finnick and Katniss.
Katniss is quick to crawl to her knees as you follow suit.
“Peeta?”
Your heart aches as the weakness in her voice laces around every syllable of his name.
She cares for the boy, more than she lets on.
She gently caresses Peeta’s face as you watch from a small distance behind her - she needs to check over him herself, to make sure he’s okay-
“He’s not breathing! He’s not breathing!”
You push Finnick towards the two of them, and Finnick harshly pushes Katniss out of the way so he can attempt to save Peeta. It’s a standard medical procedure that all District 4 families know by heart, but you place a reassuring hand on Katniss’ shoulder after she tries to pull an arrow on Finnick.
You know that words won’t do anything to comfort Katniss, and she rushes to Peeta’s side as you’re forced to be an uncomfortable spectator.
“Peeta, Peeta-“
You place a hand over your mouth as tears start to form in your eyes.
Come on, Peeta…
“Come on, come on!”
Finnick matches your worries as he continues compressions on Peeta.
“Please wake up.”
Katniss’ voice cracks which cracks the dam in your eyes as you begin to cry.
Katniss loves Peeta like I love-
You do your best to wipe the tears from your eyes as you imagine how the Capitol is enjoying the show. They’re watching three fierce competitors do their best to bring back another victor - a first in the history of the Hunger Games, you’re sure. You’re not even doing much but displaying your heart on your sleeve, and that’s enough for you to do. People stay attached and are sympathetic, and you can only hope that it’ll continue after you commit the worst crime, betraying the Capitol, after you get Katniss and Peeta out of here.
Peeta takes a deep breath, and you deeply sigh in relief as Finnick backs off to let Katniss and Peeta have a moment.
Once Finnick stands up, you pull him into a comforting hug, but you’re not sure if the hug is more for you or for him.
“I can’t-“
“I know.” He places a gentle hand on your back as you watch Katniss and Peeta interact.
“Do you wanna stand up?”
“Yeah.”
Once Peeta stands up, Katniss pulls Peeta into a hug as you let go of Finnick. You notice that Finnick’s hand doesn’t move as your heart pounds - this isn’t the moment nor is it your moment - as his eyes never leave Katniss and Peeta.
He knows, and I know.
~
Katniss throws a rock at the forcefield as a small group of sparks come from the collision. Peeta follows behind Katniss, and you follow behind Peeta as Finnick brings up the rear.
The next rock she throws reproduces similar results, but you notice that Finnick places a protective hand on your shoulder. You make your way through the jungle floor as Katniss throws another rock at the forcefield.
“Hold on.” She says before moving further ahead of the group. She climbs the largest tree she can find, and the three of you wait in silence before she comes back down.
“The forcefield is a dome,” Katniss reports after coming back down, “so we’re at the edge of the arena. I couldn’t find any signs of fresh water.”
Your throat dries up further at the mention of water. None of you will last long in this heat without any sort of hydration.
“It’s gonna get dark soon, we’ll be safe with our backs protected. We should set up camp - take turns sleeping.” Finnick sits next to you while looking directly at Katniss. “I’ll take first watch.”
Katniss scoffs before replying.
“Not a chance.”
Finnick gives her a disapproving look before grabbing his trident and standing up.
“Honey, that thing I did back there for Peeta? That was called saving his life. If I wanted to kill either of you, I would’ve done it by now.”
Finnick sticks his trident in the ground as Katniss continues to have a glare-off with him. Eventually, Finnick takes his trident and offers you a hand up. You quietly take it before shooting Peeta and Katniss an apologetic look - not your first, but certainly not your last.
“Why don’t you get some rest? I’ll take first watch.” Katniss instructs Peeta mores then telling him, but he reluctantly stands up.
“Just for a little bit.”
She nods as he moves to sit farther away from you and Finnick, but closer to Katniss.
He doesn’t trust us because she doesn’t.
You squeeze Finnick’s hand as you sit a few feet from the forcefield.
“Let me talk to her tonight. I have a way of charming people.”
“She’s tough to crack-“
“I did it before, in the practice room,” You say with determination while looking at him, “and I know I can do it again.”
He doesn’t answer, but he squeezes your hand in reassurance.
That’s good enough for me.
~
Peeta lays peacefully asleep as you sit on a nearby rock by Katniss and Finnick.
“How’s Peeta?” He softly asks.
“Is he well?” You add on while trying to break the palpable tension between you three.
Not three, but if they’re going to argue, then all of us will suffer.
“He’s okay, I think, just…” She trails off for a moment, “dehydrated, like the rest of us.”
Familiar music draws your attention to the skies as today’s victors-turned-victims display on the forcefield. There’s familiar faces, ones that you had come to befriend and love… it’s enough to drive you to tears. As the display continues, Finnick places a hand on your shoulder for comfort.
It’s not enough, but it’ll do.
Peeta awakens too, and the four of you sit in contemplative silence as the display finally comes to a close.
“Eight.” Katniss says as you wave off tears.
“I’m fine, Finnick,” You gently brush his hand off your shoulder as you look up to the sky again, “but look at the sky!”
A small canister attached to a parachute floats down and lands a few feet from Katniss, and she’s quick to gather the canister. She opens the canister with easy, which contains a note plus something else you can’t quite see.
“Drink up?”
“What is it?” Finnick asks as you approach Katniss behind him.
“It’s from Haymitch,” Katniss picks the item out of the canister, “I think it’s a spiel.”
Katniss rushes past Finnick to pound the spiel into a nearby tree with a rock. Peeta rushes to Katniss’ side as the four of you watch and eventually see the spiel product water.
Haymitch did his part, which means that I have to do mine.
~
“I counted twelve.” Katniss notes as you look up to the sky.
“It’s midnight-” Finnick tries to add.
“-Or the number of districts.” Katniss challenges as you shake your head.
They can never agree on the simple things, huh?
A series of lightning strikes on a large tree in the distance draws your attention.
“Well, if you two aren’t going to sleep,” Finnick says as you nod in confirmation, “then I will.”
“Alright.” Katniss says as Finnick gets up from his post.
“Goodnight, Finnick.”
“Goodnight, Sunny,” Finnick looks back and offers you a warm smile, “make sure to get some rest.”
“I will.”
He silently walks away as you turn your attention to Katniss.
“I’m sorry about Finnick, he can be-“
“Why did you try to save Peeta earlier? You don’t know him.” Katniss bluntly asks.
“Peeta is important to you, and I wanted to spare you the pain that so many others face.” You truthfully answer as Katniss studies your face with scrutiny.
“You don’t know me either-“
“-Katniss, if I knew every person I’ve ever helped, I wouldn’t be Sunny,” You tell her, “and I don’t know who I would be if I wasn’t that person. I used to think Sunny was a persona, but it’s become who I truly am.”
“Were you someone different before the games?”
“I think we all were, if that’s not obvious enough,” You glance at Peeta before returning your attention to Katniss, “but I think the Hunger Games showed me who I truly was. Wouldn’t wish this shit on anyone else, though.”
“I-“
“I think you’ll discover that we’re not so different after all, Katniss,” You say before standing up, “but I wish you a good night. I hope the night is uneventful for you.”
You walk a small distance before turning back.
“Oh, and don’t be too hard on Finnick. He’s been through a lot more than he lets on.”
“Tell him to back off first.”
You chuckle as you lay down close to Finnick, but far enough that your beating heart doesn’t threaten to blow out your eardrums.
~
“Run, run! The fog is poison!”
Katniss’ words send you from slumber to alert as you’re the first on your feet. You move down the side of the hill as Finnick and Peeta catch up to you. You let Katniss pass you as Finnick pushes you in front so he takes up the rear.
You continue to run through the forestry without a second thought as the thick fog chases you. The fog suddenly approaches from the right, and Peeta is quickly to avoid it, along with the rest of you.
As you round a corner, the fog then approaches from the left. You dodge the fog like you dodged arrows in your original Hunger Games. It was too easy, but you were concerned for Finnick since the fog was nearly kissing you.
When the four of you make it to a clearing, the fog makes a semicircle around you, and Peeta’s forced to lead the group in another direction as you aimlessly follow in the hopes that you’ll survive this.
The fog seems to increase in speed, and you scream in agony once it touches your skin. You barely avoid Katniss, who tripped in front of you, and Peeta goes back to save her. He’s burned by the fog too, and Katniss pulls him up before they follow behind you.
You continue in front of the group this time, and you hear Finnick’s shrieks from a distance, but you can’t go back for him.
As long as he’s yelling, he’s alive.
It tears your heart into shreds to hear him, to hear those kids behind you, in so much pain. You immediately turn around when you hear a body fall to the ground.
“Peeta!” Katniss sticks next to him like a loyal dog as you watch from a safe distance. Finnick approaches the two of them, and he doesn’t hesitate to help Katniss by wrapping one of Peeta’s arms around his shoulder. As Katniss wraps the other arm around his shoulder, Finnick motions you to continue forward.
You run forward, safe from most harm, as the other members of your group continue to bear most of the brunt from the fog. A sharp hill awaits you, but you quickly navigate it as Katniss, Finnick, and Peeta fall, quite literally, behind you.
You cry in pain as you touch the back of your neck. You spot a nearby pool of water as the trio behind you makes a rough landing.
You watch in horror as the fog approaches, but it’s stopped by an invisible wall that barely prevents any injury to the rest of you. Your attention snaps back to the water - your neck really fucking hurts - as you approach the water. When you submerge yourself in the water, you sigh in relief as the stinging pain caused by the water rids you of your injury.
Once you’ve cleaned yourself up, you pull Katniss, the only person who seems to be awake, towards the water. With her determination and your strength, you get her to the edge of the water. You gently place one of her hands in the water, and she screams before the poison is released from her hand.
“The water- the water helped-“ Her strangled cry is heard by Peeta, who starts to pull himself towards the water as well.
You immediately move to Finnick’s side as you deliberately and slowly start to move him towards the water. Once Katniss and Peeta are mostly finished, they help you push Finnick fully into the water. He screams in agony as the three of you pour water over his body.
“Finnick-“
Emotions threaten to pour from your eyes and your mouth, but the sometimes-stoic Katniss composes herself before you can truly express how scared you are to lose Finnick.
“We need our weapons.”
Peeta and Katniss move to gather the weapons as you stay, dedicated, by Finnick’s side.
“C’mon, you need to get up. Who else is going to argue with Katniss over the simplest things?”
Finnick grumbles for a second before softly laughing.
At least I’ve made this shitty situation better for someone.
~
As Peeta gathers water from a nearby tree, you sit and pour water all over yourself in order to keep cool and clean any remaining toxins off of your skin. Finnick and Katniss do the same, but you give them space to talk things out with their words… instead of their fists.
They both mutter apologies to one another before Finnick pauses to stare blankly ahead. Your eyes catch sight of what he’s looking so intently at.
Mutts.
A gentle nod to Katniss alerts her of the situation as well, and she stands along with Finnick. You slowly try to back away before noticing that some are approaching from behind. You immediately backpedal next to Finnick and Katniss as they’re the only ones with proper weapons.
Where’s Peeta?
“Peeta.”
“Yeah?” Peeta looks up from the spiel towards Katniss.
“Back away from the tree, slowly.”
A growling mutt a few inches from his face causes Peeta to slowly back up towards the three of you. Once you’re all in the water, the mutts growl and slowly close in as your heart pounds.
What am I supposed to do with no weapon?
“Get to the beach.” Katniss tries to move towards the newly sighted Cornucopia, but two mutts block your last escape route.
Katniss pulls her bow back as the mutts continue to advance on you. A mutt makes the first leap towards you and Katniss, but Peeta quickly strikes it down with his machete. They all growl angrily before one lunges towards Katniss from the opposite side. She quickly shoots it down with an arrow before killing another when it’s barely tried to leap at her.
Peeta swipes at a mutt that approaches you before gently pushing you behind him.
“I owe you one for earlier.” Peeta recalls the fight at the Cornucopia, and you nod before centering yourself between Katniss, Peeta, and Finnick.
Finnick strikes a mutt down with his trident before smacking another back. Peeta continues to aimlessly swipe at a few mutts to keep them away, and you duck as Katniss shoots one over his shoulder. A mutt then jumps on Peeta and tries to sink its teeth into him, but he guts it with a blade through the stomach.
Katniss and Finnick work in harmony to push the mutts back before she successfully hits three mutts with her arrows and stabs the fourth with her bow. Peeta pulls his knife from the mutt before you help him up. The onslaught continues for a few moments which spreads seconds into eternal moments. You feel useless, but keeping yourself out of harm’s way is the best way you can help everyone.
A mutt tackles Katniss into the water, but Peeta quickly kills it and helps Katniss up.
“Come on, we got to get to the beach!”
Peeta leads the way as you follow behind Katniss. You turn back to assure that Finnick is still there - you’re worrying about him when he has a weapon, he’ll be fine, Sunny - as you try to navigate your way to the beach.
A mutt jumps on Katniss and Peeta which knocks them further away. A separate mutt eyes you before jumping, and you attempt to send a punch its way. It takes a bite on your outstretched arm as you cry out in pain. You manage to wrestle your arm out of its grasp before Finnick spears it with his trident.
“How bad is-“
A few small incisions line your dominant arm, and they sting like hell, but you can’t focus on that now.
“I’ll live.”
Finnick grabs your non-damaged hand as he spears another mutt that dares to approach him. He then lets go of your hand to kill a mutt that jumps on Katniss, but once she’s back on her feet, his hand finds yours again.
You gasp as you notice someone in camouflage with large bite marks covering their neck.
“Who is it?”
“It’s a Morphling,” Peeta explains to Katniss, “C’mon, help me get her.”
They grab the dying Morphling before dragging her to the beach. More mutts approach as Finnick lets go of your hand and pushes you ahead.
“I’ve got this - just watch them.”
You nod before turning to follow Katniss and Peeta. Despite your painful arm injury, you run through the forest just as you did before. Pain was an adrenaline booster for you, and it was a scratch compared to the injuries you got from messing around on rock cliffs and beaches back in District 4.
You make it to the beach as Katniss and Peeta bring the girl into the water. Finnick tumbles in behind you before quickly recovering and pushing the remaining mutts back. Once he realizes that the mutts aren’t going to follow him, his eyes meet yours.
“You arm-“
“Look,” You point at the sky as another canister falls from the sky towards you, “I told you I’d live. I might not be the capitol darling, but they can’t let go of their little sister that easily.”
Finnick reaches the canister before you do, and he opens it to quickly to dig out the gauze and skin-applicable pain medicine.
“I suppose they wouldn’t mind seeing the Capitol darling tend to their little sister, then?” Finnick’s lips quirk into a teasing smile as you sit on the beach and admire the sky.
“Well, I wouldn’t mind.”
“Then that’s the only opinion that matters.” He sits next to you, and you present your arm to him. “You’re tougher than you act, honey.”
“I thought you knew that already,” You look away for a moment to hide your embarrassment, “after all, I did learn from an amazing mentor.”
The medicine feels cold once it touches your skin, and you sigh in relief as the pain starts to fade away.
“Did anyone leave a note?” You ask as Finnick looks away for a moment. “Oh, so I’m the one who has an admirer, and you get-“
You yelp when Finnick starts to harshly apply the medicine.
“-Jealous much?” You roll your eyes as Finnick laughs.
“Is it bad that I want your eyes on me and me alone?”
You’re left speechless as you bite your lip nervously. The invisible tension, the string that draws you two together, is finally pulled to its breaking point as you realize how close Finnick truly is.
“It-“ You pause for a moment as your sunshine threatens to slip and reveal some deeper emotion in your heart, the one that you named before this fresh hell started. “It depends on what you’re going to do about it.”
Finnick sets down the medicine to grab the gauze, and once Finnick returns close to you, you push yourself on top of him to give him a kiss to release the emotions buried deep in your heart.
The sunshine clouds over as a storm brews, but you’re not scared of the damage that this thunderstorm will cause your mind. You’d accept once the outcome that you weren’t the one for him, that the signs were wrong and all in your head, and that-
Finnick kisses you back.
Oh shit.
Finnick kisses you. In the 75th Hunger Games. On TV. In front of thousands of his admirers.
Oh shit!
You pull away and place a hand over your mouth as you contemplate the absolute shitstorm you’ve just released on the both of you.
“You’re not a bad kisser, if that’s what you’re embarrassed about-“
“Finnick!” You squeak before smacking his arm.
“There’s only room for two people who can’t admit that they love each,” He nods at Katniss and Peeta in the distance, “and that image doesn’t quite fit either of us.”
“What are we, then?”
“Whatever you want to be.”
~
tagging -> @yokolesbianism
#THG#thg finnick#The Hunger Games#the hunger games fanfic#the hunger games x reader#fanfic#finnick odair#finnick imagine#the hunger games fluff
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Okay! So! I'm breaking out the correct capitalization because this news is so insane! The Japanese website for Endless Ocean Luminous received a major update last night, and I want to walk through the biggest new info from it with you! This is gonna be really long, so please bare with me, there's just so much to cover...
Here's the link for people who want to check this themselves: https://www.nintendo.com/jp/switch/a7lka/index.html
The Veiled Sea is random, but not in the way you think
It has been officially confirmed that the Veiled Sea's terrain and creatures will change with each dive, and creatures will likely spawn in accordance to the nearby terrain. But don't panic!
After filling in 80% of an area's map, you will be given a map ID, which you can use to access that exact same map, either by yourself or with friend, whenever you like! Think of them like Minecraft world seeds. An example ID (which can likely be used upon release) is given in the photo above, accompanied by what looks like a photo of the one and only...! Maybe you can reliably encounter her on that map ID?
2. Salvages are back, baybee!!
In what looks to be a system similar to EO1 and the Everblue games, salvages of all sorts can be found under small glints on the ocean floor! The P earned from salvages immediately goes into your current amount once you've picked it up. According to the photo above, salvaging is "essential to unravelling the ocean's mysteries", and another photo states that you may even find traces of "ancient civilizations"...
3. A diving rank system has been revealed, along with fishy friends
As you discover new creatures and treasures, you will unlock all sorts of things, and your dive rank will increase! Higher dive ranks have access to more suit colors (which side note omg i'm loving the options), as well as larger creatures following you, and more creatures following at the same time! What does that mean? Well... you know EO1's friendship system, where if you're friendly enough to a fish, it'll follow you around? This seems to be returning, but reworked! The creatures that follow you depends on your dive rank: at a low rank, only small fish will follow you, but as your rank increases, you can have dolphins and even huge whales tag along with you!
4. Behold a whole new range of underwater environments
I already showed pictures of them in my previous post, so I won't here to save photo space, but to list a few, underwater magma flows, shipwrecks in the abyss, polar areas, freshwater caves, and active hydrothermal vent fields have all been shown off here!
5. Different missions will be available each dive
Not much elaboration is needed here, but each dive, you will be given special missions (such as seeking out a location or creature). We don't yet know what reward these will give us, but it's gotta be good, right?
6. A new method of identifying creatures
Creatures you have yet to identify will glow, and pressing the L button while near these creatures will unlock their information. Multiple creatures' info can be acquired this way at the same time, making for easy scanning of big groups! This info will then be available in the marine encyclopedia, which can be accessed at any time.
The encyclopedia will also record the creature's behavior, habits, and the largest/smallest sizes of it you have found.
7. Creature variants have been introduced
Though the site did not elaborate on this, it did showcase a picture of a creature labelled "variant".
This one is especially interesting, because though the scientific name here is accurate, the Japanese text below it reads... "Coco Maharaja", which is this EO2 legendary's Japanese name! Will we be able to encounter the exact legendary specimens from EO2 again in the Veiled Sea, or are these simply colored variants named after them? Either way, the creature variant system is going to be awesome, I can tell!
8. Photography is back, and better than ever!
Photos will be sent to the Nintendo Switch's album when taken. What purpose they will serve in the greater game has yet to be seen, but you can take photos with yourself in them!
9. Multiplayer and singleplayer options
I know some people were worried about multiplayer being the only mode, but this is not the case! Players can dive either solo, or with a group over the internet with the "Dive Together" option. When diving together, up to 10 random players can play... or, when diving with friends, up to 30 people can!
Additional multiplayer reveals include the ability to use tons of emotes to communicate, adding emojis to creatures or treasures you find which can be seen on the map for others to check out (the Cacao Maharaja photo showcases a bunch of these emojis), being able to teleport to any player in your current dive, and more!
10. A new mythical creature...?
The array of photos shown of new creature models is absolutely astounding... but one in particular that caught my eye is the set of new prehistoric creatures!
One of these things is not like the others though... what could "Raja Emas" be...? Can prehistoric creatures be mythical too?
This update has made me more hyped than ever for this game! I'd be curious to hear your thoughts too~ :>
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Off the Deep End | part 1 | swim instructor Bang Chan x fem reader
Genre: fluff; smut; angst
Rating: 18+
Pairing: Bang Chan x fem reader
Word count: 3,6k
Warnings: mentions of past trauma, drowning, adult language (warnings will be added to each chapter)
Summary: Hellbent on facing her fears, she starts taking up swimming lessons from one attractive young instructor named Christopher.
A/N: In case you're new here, I always name my characters because I don't like writing in the second person. This story is set in Australia, therefore I use some Aussie slang and lore, lmk if there's anything you don't understand that I can clarify for you. I'm not Australian, I just tried my best to recall things from my time there and I suppose a lot of things are similar to New Zealand. If any Aussies find anything really OOC, please do let me know.
A massive thank you to @seo--changbin for her help aka putting up with my bulshit. Love you <3
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | to be continued
Masterlit | Network
It's a lovely day: the sun is shining down on me, hot and bright, not a single cloud in the sky. I take another sip of my boozy cocktail and look over to my right where my sister has fallen asleep with a book on her face, several empty glasses piled on her side of the table. Not even her kids' loud screeches can seem to disturb her slumber, or maybe she's got good at zoning out. Her husband, who had disappeared inside the house God knows how long ago, has come back with a bucket in his arms and places it down by the lawn chairs.
"Help yourself," he enthusiastically says, before noticing his wife's sleeping form and immediately repeating himself in a lower voice. "Help yourself."
"Thank you," I simply say, raising my cocktail glass to show him I'm good for now. The bucket is full of beer, soda cans and water bottles for the kids.
The two boys decide to have a cannonball contest at the far end of the pool and are arguing about whose technique is the best, although I personally didn't find either that impressive. My brother-in-law finishes his Heineken and joins his kids with what was probably the only good cannonball of the day. He swims over to the edge of the pool and his head peeks out from the surface of the water.
"Come on, Jess, get in!"
"No thanks, I'm good."
"You need to face your fears at some point," he shrugs. "It's a lot more fun than just sitting on the lounger all day!"
He does make a compelling argument, however, I still see blood flowing and swaying on the water anytime I stare down into a swimming pool, the bottom seemingly invisible, like an endless pit. The scar is well hidden, thanks to really good surgeons and my own talent in makeup, but it is there and I do see it and feel its ridges whenever I touch my jaw. I'm facing my fear, looking straight into it. Maybe someday I'll be able to take a dive, but today is not that day.
I want to go home, I really do. My sister's friends are all a little obnoxious and I'm starting to feel sick from all the grilled meat I end up consuming at her weekend barbeques. At least the kids have all gone to sleep, not that the adults aren't equally as loud, especially after so much beer.
"-this year we'll go skiing in Austria instead, you know, see something new," one of the women says, wine glass in hand. "It's always Mount Hutt, I'm tired of Mount Hutt!"
"Snow all looks the same, Brenda," her husband spits with an annoyed look on his face. "You just want an excuse to go to Europe and see the hunks over there!"
"Imagine that, sitting on a plane for a day just to see snow when there's perfectly good snow down in New Zealand," some other guy retorts. "Taking those five kids of yours, too!"
Both Brenda's husband and this other guy laugh, but Brenda doesn't seem to be having fun. She sulks and pours herself another glass, keeping her head down.
"What about you, Jess, have any exciting plans for the new year?"
My eyes avert from Brenda and her troubles to the person sitting next to me, I believe her name is Amelia. She has very well-kept long blonde hair that doesn't suit her skin tone but her roots are barely visible still. Her face is somewhat orange, but I guess she pulls it off.
"Oh, I'm just gonna stay here in good old Melbourne," I shrug. "Might pop to Montague Street Bridge to see all the trucks losing their roof." I giggle at my own joke, but Amelia just seems lost, sparing me a pained smile. "I don't think they have Tim Tams in other countries."
"Oh that's not true," Brenda's husband interjects out of nowhere. "I'm pretty sure I've seen them in England!"
The awkward conversation dies down as they continue discussing their lives and I keep to myself, pretending to be very interested in the cranberry juice in my glass, avoiding meeting anyone's gaze lest they strike up more conversation and ask me why I don't just travel to Europe or the US, it's lovely up there, how can I miss out on such fun? It's either that or asking if I'd like to meet this guy they know, he's single too, he's divorced, his wife just died, he's got kids but he's nice, he works in IT. I don't want to meet their friend and I don't want to hear about Paris again, yet I keep getting dragged to my sister's pool parties where someone always asks me what drowning feels like, as if everything is supposed to feel like something else.
"By the way, my kids are taking swimming lessons with this extraordinary instructor," another woman invades my personal space to drunkenly tell me things I didn't ask about. I can't remember her name even though I know I've seen her face a few times. I remember her kid is called Jessica like me. "I hear he does lessons for adults too, he's a doll. I'll give you his card!"
She reaches for her purse and pulls out a small rectangular card, very unassuming, with just a name, a phone number and a simple tagline - swimming lessons for all levels and ages.
"That's the most boring business card I've ever seen," I comment out loud, although I should have kept it to myself.
"Well, he's pretty good, just give him a call. Jessica loves him and she's making so much progress so quickly! She might get into the Olympic team at this rate…"
I feign enthusiasm, like this 10-year-old girl having such immense pressure put on her can be any good. I suppose she's growing up in a 5 million dollar home in Toorak, so she'll be fine. I place the card in my pocket and forget about it, deciding that if I'm stuck here in this rich people hell, might as well have a laugh, like when I eavesdrop at the deli section in Coles.
*
The smell of chlorine makes my head hurt and it takes a minute for me to adjust to the stuffy warm air. I might vomit my heart out with the way it's beating in my throat. My right hand caresses my left elbow, knees trembling, mouth dry. It's hard to focus on a single thing when everything happens so much at the same time - background music, chatter, kids screaming, whistles, splashing, that awful chlorine smell that I can't ignore no matter how hard I try. I'm not even sure where I'm supposed to go, I just stand by the door to the shower room, the swimming cap feels too tight around my head.
"Hey, are you alright?"
The voice that interrupts my anxious contemplation belongs to a short slender man in swim trunks and a tank top who appears behind me.
"Yeah, I'm just looking for my instructor, his name is uhm- Christopher?"
"He's me, I'm Christopher," the young man smiles sheepishly, his small eyes disappearing into his face for a second. "Oh, are you Miss Jessica?"
"She's me, I'm Jessica," I chuckle nervously. "We spoke on the phone."
"We very much did," he agrees, motioning for me to follow him around the Olympic-size swimming pool towards the far end of it. He waves at some other guy, I look politely at him and try to forget that I'm about to really have to get in the water. There's no escape this time, I've paid for my first fifteen lessons and it wasn't particularly cheap either. No refunds, unless caused by provable illness. Is it too late to break a leg…?
"Right, so you mentioned you cannot swim at all," his attention is back on me when we stop walking as we reach the very last lane on the opposite end of the pool. I look over at a storage unit full of various floating devices and wonder if I will be allowed one or two. Or ten. "The first step will be getting you comfortable in the water."
I watch as Christopher removes his thongs and leaves them under the bench then proceeds to lower himself into the pool using the pool ladder. He's got water up to his chest. He's maybe one or two inches taller than I am, so I definitely will be able to stand. It's too late to have a panic attack and run away so all I have left to do is go in. He's right there, the swimming instructor I've been told has several medals and apparently was part of the Australian junior swim team. It's his job to not let me drown. He's not my drunk mother thirty-two years ago who didn't see me slip and fall into the pool while she sipped cocktails.
"Go on, then," he smiles at me the way a proud father smiles at his kid's doodles before leaving them on the kitchen counter to be put up on the refrigerator door later. "See, you can stand."
My sister's friend did mention he seemed to teach mostly children so the slightly condescending tone is probably just an occupational hazard and I can't blame him for being a little bit snooty towards the thirty-something year old lady who's trembling just standing in four feet of water.
"See, it's not that bad," he offers and I can't tell if he's thinking in the back of his mind that I look like an absolute buffoon. He probably is. "So now all I want you to do is walk to me. Just walk," he instructs, making his way towards the middle of the pool, a few steps, stopping once the water reaches his shoulders. "I'm right here."
It's nothing like walking on dry land, I had forgotten what it feels like to be submerged. The water slowly and gently undulates as my legs move, tiny step by tiny step, like a newborn foal immediately forced to learn how to walk within ten minutes of being yeeted out of the womb.
Christopher keeps reassuring me that he's right there and will absolutely not let anything bad happen to me; it's almost more nerve-racking than if he simply stood at the edge of the pool yelling instructions, like the instructor a couple of lanes to our left with a class of about eight teenagers. It's hard to appreciate his seeming kindness when I'm trying so hard to focus on not letting my knees melt into wobbly pudding, each step feeling like a mile long.
He's got water up to his chest, Jessica, you'll be fine.
He's just standing there, the smile eventually fades from his face and he just watches me take slow, careful steps towards him, arms stretched out as if he expects me to tumble over like I did when I was four years old. Shit. I was doing fine without those memories, this is not a good time for the dramatic flashbacks! I stop, taking a deep breath and looking up at the tall ceiling, my vision not focusing on anything in particular, just the way the harsh bright lights illuminate the interior of the swimming complex.
"You good?"
Somehow I've muted all the noises around me, but his voice seems to come from way too close and that's when I realise I either moved without realising or he took a few steps to come meet me halfway because the next thing I know, he's a lot closer to me than I remember him being.
"I-I'm fi-fine?"
I'm not sure I sound convinced, but my head is still out of water and completely dry so I don't think anything happened to me. I look at Christopher again, his eyes seem almost worried but he offers yet another little smile. Do his cheeks not hurt from smiling so much? He already seems very non-threatening with his short and slender build and jovial face, he doesn't need to put so much effort into making himself appear as inoffensive as possible.
"Look back," he says, "you walked all this way!"
There's the condescending tone again like he's talking to one of his six-year-old students. Or maybe I'm just being a bitch to this man for absolutely no reason and he's just trying to be helpful and do his job properly. I've already paid him, either way. Might as well learn to actually swim while I'm at it.
"I sure did-"
"Do you want to try and extend your body? I'll hold your arms." He reaches out again, his pale arms extended towards me. I hold onto his hands, unsure of what exactly I'm supposed to do and how to even do it. Seems easy enough, right? Just extend your body out, like you're lying down in bed, except this isn't a safe comfortable bed, it's a dangerous swimming pool.
"Lift up your legs and kick them back," he instructs, his grip on my hands very strong, as a way to say he won't let go and let me drown. "Try one leg at a time first."
The movement is awfully uncoordinated and lacks any sense of grace, but I do manage to pull my leg back, then the other, then both at the same time, my eyes on Christopher's arms, worried he would let go on accident and leave me to brave the waters on my own. You can stand up, I remind myself. You've got water up to your shoulders.
"Good job," he praises, and I must admit a sense of mild pride washes over me. Yeah, it's a fucking good job! "Stand back up now." I obey, strengthening my grip on his hands, my body feels like it's floating and I can't remember how to get back down. It takes a minute, but I'm eventually standing up again, my hands still in his for a little longer until he finally lets go.
"How are you feeling," he inquiries "bit more confident?"
"I guess," I shrug, very clearly not that confident.
"You'll get there." Another smile. This one feels more earned, though, not as mechanic as before. I doubt his words for a minute before scolding myself. You will get there, it's just swimming, not rocket science. I nod, my knees relaxing subconsciously as I watch him get out of the water using the ladder again, making his way to the storage unit and picking up a couple of accessories he promptly throws in the water before joining me once more in the shallow end of the pool.
"Will these help make you feel safer?"
I nod again, holding onto one of the pool noodles as if I've never seen one before. I never told him my tragic backstory, yet somehow he acts like he knows there's something deeply wrong with me. I wonder if my sister's friend told him something…
"Thanks."
"Right, so the goal for now is to get you to feel confident and safe in the water," he explains, his face serious and stern. "You can have as many noodles as you want and I'm right here, I swear on my PS5 I won't let you get hurt." A little giggle leaves him, like he's making a silly little joke to the little kids he teaches. It's hard to take this man seriously when not only he seems to have never interacted with an adult, but he himself looks almost like a child, small and sweet-looking, like life hasn't yet taught him a lesson. I'm being so judgemental for no reason. This young man is just doing his job and trying to be nice about it. I have to scold myself again for thinking so negatively all the time and wonder if my sister does that too or if she's cured now that she has the perfect life…
"You basically paid me to not let you drown, if that's any consolation." His joke pulls me out of yet another session of inside-my-head rambling. He's trying so hard to be the cool and fun teacher and I'm not sure what to make of it. I'm at least ten years older than this wide-eyed pale boy.
"I guess that helps," I shrug, looking at him. "So what now? You throw me off the 10 metre plank and I have to somehow not die?"
He laughs, his little eyes completely disappearing into his face and becoming crescent moons. He has dimples.
"Yeah, let's go," he jokes again. "No, we take it as slow as we need to. The goal is to not scare you any further."
"I'm not scared!"
"Yeah, that's why you were shaking coming down the ladder and holding on to me like that just now," he snarkily comments right before becoming apologetic. "I-I'm sorry, that was inappropriate."
"Don't worry, doll," I shrug, still holding on to the pool noodle, standing near the edge of the pool.
"Well, anyway, let's practice some more." His demeanour is back to the overly-friendly one from a few seconds before as he passes me another pool noodle, instructing me to loop it around my stomach. He holds out another noodle, one hand near each end, keeping it straight. "Hold on to this and look at me."
I do as he says, placing my hands next to his and facing him dead-on. "Now let's try to kick your legs back again, just like before."
The noodle naturally doesn't feel as sturdy as Christopher's hands on mine, and the one on my belly almost pressures my body upwards and I have to actively force my torso down. My hands almost want to slide closer to his, to feel someone's skin on mine rather than polyethylene foam would make me feel a little more secure, but he's right there. He's literally a foot away from me, his feet firmly pressed on the tile. He won't let me drown. He wouldn't.
"It's okay, I'm literally right here," he reassures again, that damned smile that he just can't avoid but flash every damn minute. I wonder if he's always like this or maybe he's secretly a dick outside his lessons. Maybe he even voted One Nation.
Hands firmly on the pool noodle, I kick my legs back, slowly, immediately feeling the tension in my belly releasing. "You don't have to be so tense, you know." I feel light headed again, my eyes fixated on his but not focusing or registering what I'm looking at.
"Let's breathe slowly okay," his voice lowers an octave and catches me off guard. "Breathe in through your nose. One. Two. Three. Four. Five." He's breathing in too, still looking into my eyes, and it almost feels uncomfortable. I can't remember the last time I really looked at someone for so long, especially what is essentially a stranger. "Good, now breathe out through your mouth, slowly." He counts to five again, just as slowly as before and it feels like I have never breathed before in my life.
"I've got you," he reassures once more, of course he has a smile on his face and I can't really tell if it's sincere or not because my head is spinning and it's hard to focus on anything. "I'm gonna let go of the noodle, okay? But I'm right here."
"Please don't," I beg, my hands sliding closer to his until they're slightly touching.
"That's alright," he replies. "Okay, no problem, I won't let go."
I breathe out a relieved sigh as his hands come to hold mine once more, and I feel a sudden urge to cry. It's all too much, too much noise, too much water, too much human contact, all in a day's work.
"We can take it as slow as you need, Jessica."
I nod, this time I actually pay attention to him instead of fixating on a random spot without focusing on anything. His eyes seem sincere. Again, I have to remind myself that he's a professional doing his job and there is absolutely no reason for this man to let me drown or get hurt in any way.
"Take your time."
I'm not sure how long I stayed like that, looking absolutely ridiculous with a pool noodle through my waist, holding on to my much younger swimming instructor like I'm about to drown in four feet of water, that stupid swimming cap so tight around my head it feels like my brain is on the verge of exploding. Next thing I know, I'm standing under the shower trying to remove the cap without pulling all my hair out. The water is a little too hot, but I barely register the way it burns my skin as all the background noise morphs into one giant blob of white noise.
I get dressed, put away my wet swimsuit inside a plastic ziplock bag, dry my hair and apply moisturiser to my face, still unsure of how to feel about this whole thing. I could just quit, money be damned…! No, money do not be damned, it's not like I have a lot of it and I can't afford to just toss it away like that. I- I could just- No! I'm going to finish this now. I'm going to book my next lesson and stick to this, it can't be that hard. My nephews can swim and they're kids. That Jessica girl is training to join the goddamn Olympic team and she's like eleven! I can at least learn how to doggy-swim if anything, right? Right…?
To be continued...
#neverendingdreams#bang chan x you#bang chan x reader#bang chan#skz#stray kids#bang chan smut#i suck at tagging#pls give feedback
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Envuélveme
pairing: contigo!hoseok x f. hispanic reader
genre: established relationship, Christmas au, smut [18+]
summary: Hoseok shows you just how talented he is with his hands
wc: 835
warnings: bondage with ribbon, oral sex (f. receiving), fingering (f. receiving), mentions of unprotected sex, creampie, spanking
date: January 4, 2024
prompt 23: "I cannot wrap gifts for the life of me."
Frustration fills your body as you pause the video on your phone. You've been battling the Christmas gift on your bed for the last fifteen minutes, growing more and more agitated as your failures pile up and you start giving up.
Hoseok watches from the other end of the bed, one hand under his head and the other on his phone, scrolling through TikToks. He looks gorgeous shirtless with his Christmas pajama pants (little candy canes and snoopy littering the fabric) and his long hair fluffy and a little curly at the ends.
"Need help, mi amor?" he asks gently, setting his phone on the nightstand.
"No," you huff, trying to undo the knot on the ribbon you were holding with disdain. "Yo puedo."
Hoseok nods, watching you try again only to sigh heavily and give up. You push the present to the side, grabbing the red ribbon in your hands and glaring at it.
"Why did I think ribbon tying would be easy? My bows are crooked or they unravel faster than I can blink. I cannot wrap gifts for the life of me. Hoseok!" you whine and he chuckles as he scoots closer to you. He takes the ribbon from your hands.
"Acuestate, por favor," Hoseok instructs, and you lay down as you're told.
Curiously, you look up at him, and he grins. He leans over you, his lips pressing kisses to yours. His hand cups your face, the kiss growing deeper as his tongue pushes past the seam of your lips. Moaning softly, you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him close until he's settled between your thighs. Your nightgown bunches up at your hips and Hoseok grabs your thighs in his hands. He curses when he grabs your panties, tugging them down your legs and your arousal is evident.
Smiling, you meet his gaze, sitting up just enough to remove your nightgown and toss it over the side of the bed. Hoseok sits back on his heels, grabbing the ribbon and cutting it at a length he deems appropriate. He pulls the scissors closer, within reach should he need to cut you loose.
Your heart quickens with excitement, biting back a moan when he asks if you'd like to be tied up.
"Yes, please," you plead and he chuckles, kissing the tip of your nose before he takes your wrists over your head and easily binds them together. He makes sure to tie the ends in a great big bow and you roll your eyes.
"You're just showing off now," you bite and he laughs.
"I've been wrapping gifts for ages, baby. I offered to help," he reminds you and you scoff. He did.
Hoseok smirks as he takes you in. Tied and up and dripping wet for him. He could devour you in one bite. He could wrap the ribbon around your legs and call you his gift.
The possibilities are endless.
Hoseok kisses your lips, his hands roaming your body slowly, kissing his way down to your neck, between your breasts until he's between your thighs.
"Fuck," you curse when his tongue meets your wet folds, body trembling as he dives in again. You want to card your fingers through his hair, fuck his face and make him groan your name, but your wrists are over your head, bound and useless.
Hoseok's dark gaze meets yours, licking his lips before he sucks on your clit. He swirls his tongue, his fingers pushing into you, and you arch off the bed. Hoseok thinks you look beautiful, so pretty all tied for him, at his mercy. He wants to grant you every pleasure.
Your body heats, hips wiggling and thighs quivering as he holds one and places it over his shoulder. Hoseok curls his fingers, adding a third as you moan his name.
You're so close already, Hoseok knows all the right places to touch, and you wish you could grip the sheets or his hair. You want Hoseok desperately, want him to fill you full of his cock and stuff you full of cum. Want him to tie your hands behind your back, using them as leverage as he fucks into you deeply, smacking your ass and fucking you full.
"Hoseok, please," your voice is airy, moans spilling freely as he sucks your clit and you cry out for him one more time before falling apart.
Hoseok chuckles as he rises, licking his lips. "Good?"
"So good," you answer breathlessly.
Hoseok grips the scissors, cutting the ribbon loose and releasing your wrists. He brings them to his lips, kissing each indention delicately and rubbing your skin softly. He'll make sure to rub some lotion on your wrists in a bit, but first, he holds you in his arms, kissing your shoulder as he rests his forehead on your back.
"You did so well, my love," he whispers.
You smile, melting into him as he kisses his way up your neck, turning your head to kiss your lips.
"Te amo."
original
#hoseok smut#hoseok drabble#hoseok x hispanic!reader#hoseok x you#hoseok x reader#hoseok x reader insert#hoseok x y/n#hoseok fanfic#hoseok fanfiction#bf!hoseok au
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This will be my one and only post on the subject of post-s3 canon-compliant Hannigram...
...unless ofc the show gets renewed, which, at this point--it won't, lbr. Martha de Laurentiis was the show's champion and navigator of the rights issues, and she has literally died. If anyone else is championing it, I don't know about it. Maybe something can come through eventually as the new company leadership gets shit figured out, idk. But I'm not holding my breath.
That's the key point here which most of these asks don't seem to recognize: they want me to give an opinion on the state of the relationship, and whether or not Hannibal and Will can be together for a long term and maintain contentment in their relationship with each other: the Happy Ever After Question. But what these asks are most notably NOT doing--even though the askers always frame it as if they are--is asking me about the kind of storytelling would be likely in a continuation of the show: the Plot? What Plot? question. They want to have their plot cake and happily eat it ever after too. And it just doesn't work that way.
These are really very, very different questions. And what would happen if the show actually did come back has as much to do with what would have to happen to resurrect the show out of rights oblivion and then negotiate endless contracts AND how the creatives own lives and circumstances may have changed them and their points of view over the years, as well as the years themselves.
And because the show is very likely never coming back it's really a moot point now. Fantasize however you want. Write fic however you want. It's your damn story now, not the creatives. So in answer to the first, Happy Ever After Question, yeah, sure, why the fuck not. Let Hannigram have forever. But wait--you like plot with your porn? Then by all means give them some conflict. Tear them from the seams, their skin, their bones. Does that make you happy now?
But stop pulling down other people who are doing it in a different way than you're doing it, even if you can't understand it. Yeah, you know who you are....
As for the ~cANoN~ question, let's also be real for a second. If the show were renewed TODAY, it will have been more than a decade between seasons three and four, and Bryan Fuller has been pretty clear that Hannibal and Will are together during that time. So CAN they stay together for a period of years? Yeah, sure, why the fuck not. Obviously they HAVE.
But also--if the show were to come back, would they be destined for angsty shit and conflict and, yanno, PLOT? Again, obviously. It's a ridiculous notion that the show would continue without it. Flip side of that, though, is the equally ridiculous notion that seems to be floating around that if they can't be Disney princesses in their happily-ever-after together, then they can't be together at all, or at least, not for long. That's also absurd.
So let's touch base with what we know, and not what we each individually prefer.
Let's pretend--perhaps ambitiously--for a minute that if the show did ever come back it would be following the plan that we were left off with. It would stretch into 3 more seasons, with Cuban, Korean, and Cajun dishes iirc for episode titles. Bryan Fuller was pretty clear that season four would dive into an untapped portion of the books, revisit season one in a "really interesting way," and be pitched as Angel Heart meets Inception. Will might achieve happiness but not till the ending of the whole thing. That's what we know. Sorry I can't cite any of this; I haven't looked up a Hannibal article in half a decade.
So, leaving aside specifics and just getting to the question at hand, what we do know from season 1 is that Hannibal and Will were together. So, logically, they're probably together in any theoretical season 4. And OF COURSE they would be--they just spent all of S3 apart. You gotta vary this shit up. And they have to have internal and external conflicts, because writing 101. And the internal conflicts are meaningless--as would be all the rest of the preceding show--unless they're deeply and passionately invested in and love each other. That was the whole frickin' point of S3.
I don't honestly even understand how any of this is a question or a debate. Why are y'all even arguing in this the year of our lord almost 2024, and making me grumpy by sending me endless asks about stuff that's been answered for years and years. Why did I have to read with my OWN TWO EYES that someone who joined the fandom in 2016 (!!!) is so #FandomOld that people are afraid to argue with them????
...
So, y'all, this is all I'm willing to say about a potential continuation and ending of the show:
In a simple sense, the pattern the show was setting up is S1 & S4 Hannigram is together and solving crimes (at least in some weird Angel Heart way), S2 & S5 is semi-together, semi-apart Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane thing (with other stuff), and S3 & S6 on-the-run culminating in Something Big (probably at least partially apart). That doesn't mean this is the way the show would go, but it'd be very easy to write Clarice or an expy coming into the story to chase them down and end up mentored by them (either one or both) with this format.
As for the very final ending of the whole thing, the ending *I* would write may not be the same as what Bryan Fuller would write, but to me it seems both obvious where the show should go and that it would be completely and utterly satisfying to shippers and non-shippers alike. And I have run my theoretical ending by devout Hannigram shippers, and it met their approval. So if I can come up with something that both works for them and works for my sense of completionism in storytelling, then I'm sure Bryan Fuller could. He's way more practiced than me.
I have consistently said that I do not relate to the notion that it'd be better to have them together in one's imagination than it would be to actually see Mads and Hugh acting together in the ACTUAL SHOW, regardless of how that ends. Because here's the thing: my imagination is boundless and endless, and I can get an unlimited amount of Hannigram doing whatever the fuck I please whenever the fuck I please. More show, on the other hand, is rare as hen's teeth. I would take that miracle if I could get it.
The End.
#hannibal meta#hannigram#s4 speculations#s5 speculations#s6 speculations#bryan fuller#the rights issue#bear answers#bear replies#don't ask follow ups to this post#this is as polite as i can be and i'm barely holding on#i am not a proxy for bryan fuller#i do not appreciate being nagged#and if you don't think you have enough expertise to speak for me#then why do you think anyone else does either#if you want my opinion look at my posts#there are literally over a thousand in my hannibal meta tag#don't disrespect the amount of work that took by asking me to do it again#and DONT apologize#figure it out
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Inu-Mothership Spotlight Saturday: Holiday Edition!
Week 4: Gift Giving
Hi everyone! We here at @inu-mothership are back with another week of holiday-related fic recs! This week's theme is "Gift Giving," and we are so glad to be able to share this list with all of you 💝
This week, below the cut, we have a baker's dozen list of recs, all with the theme of gifts and gift giving. Fics are listed, as always, in alphabetical order, with ship, rating, and status (complete or ongoing) listed in the parentheses. We hope you enjoy and find some new favorites 🌟
4 Carats (SessKag; M; complete) by @sereia1313
Most misunderstandings come from a lack of communication, and this Christmas is no exception.
Chasing Cars (InuKag; T; complete) by @lavendertwilight89
Inuyasha meets Kagome in his freshman communications class and immediately tries to close him off only to be surprised when she doesn't quit. He ends up in a group with her and his other friends and ends up falling for her. When they draw names for secret santa at the end of the year, guess who he ends up with? Will he confess his feelings or continue down a path of loneliness?
Christmas Plushy (InuKag; T; complete) by @windkissedsakura
A Christmas at an idyllic cottage for our favorite couple. A small puppy plushy that surprises a former grumpy hanyou with its significance.
Everything But the Pear Tree (InuKag; E; complete) by @fandomobsessions016
After going through a rough break-up, Kagome decides she's going to pull herself out of her slump by diving head first into holiday preparations. With her friend Sango and the help of her new neighbor, Inuyasha, Kagome is reminded why the holidays are so special to her.
From the Heart - and the Wrapping Company (InuKogKag; NR; complete) by@clearwillow/BrigidtheFae (Ao3)
Christmas isn't going according to anyone's plans, except Koga's. Between the heat in the apartment making it feel like it's July and the endless boxes Inuyasha and Kagome keep finding, there has to be a good reason for the devious look in their boyfriend's eyes.
If You Dare (InuKag; Rated E; complete) by @fawn-eyed-girl
Inuyasha hates Christmas, and looks forward to spending it alone.
Kagome loves Christmas, and is devastated that she has to spend it alone.
She decides to leave a notebook in the stacks at a bookstore, in hopes of making a special connection. When Inuyasha finds it, does he dare take her challenge? And will she dare to accept his?
The Kissing Plant (InuKag; T; complete) by @heynikkiyousofine
Inuyasha finds this so called kissing plant and decides to use it to show Kagome how he feels.
Lucky (InuKag; G; complete) by @lavaffair/coccinelleroses (Ao3)
Inuyasha is on a last-minute mission to find Kagome a Christmas present on Christmas Eve! Luckily, he has the perfect little helper by his side to make sure Kagome gets everything she deserves this Christmas.
A Moment, Together (InuKag; G; complete) by @yukinon-writes
A moment between Kagome and Inuyasha the night before Christmas!
One Little Thing (InuKag; T; complete) by @smmahamazing
Inuyasha wants to propose to his long time girlfriend, Kagome, but can't come up with a good way to pop the question. That is, until he gets her as his Secret Santa.
A Secret Santa (NarSess; T; complete) by @roseheartwhitefox
Naraku loved his job working at Walmart.
He loved it because most of the time, people shopping at Walmart were miserable. They were tired, overworked, underpaid, and generally disgruntled human beings. Not much unlike himself.
It was a glorious job.
It brought Naraku great pleasure to watch the miserable customers plowing through the store at the hand of life’s struggles. That was the case at the store pretty much all the time, except for one time of year.
Christmas.
Skeins and Schemes (InuKag; G; complete) by @cannibalsforbreakfast/Laeoukka
Inuyasha didn’t understand why she was insisting she needed to go back to her time, because this time last year Kagome had said her school was on “ho-li-day” and that there were no classes. She’d tried to put Inuyasha off with excuses — she had a makeup exam, her school had changed its schedule — but she could tell he didn’t believe her.
Because how could she tell Inuyasha that she needed to go back to her time to make him a Christmas present?
Wrapped in Red (SessKag; M; complete) by @sereia1313
Christmas has always been a special time for Kagome, but after Rin invites Sesshomaru to join in the festivities, the holidays will never be the same.
#inuyasha fanfiction#inu mothership#spotlight saturday#inu mother ship spotlight#holiday fic recs#fic rec lists#fic recs
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V ║ Confound
Dieter Bravo x f!reader
{ << Part 4: Contingent | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Part 6: Confute >> }
Rating: E (18+ only)
Summary: You and Dieter keep things inside... in more ways than one.
Warnings: NO angst/fighting/jealousy/possessiveness (whaaaa), FLUFF (whaaaa), drinking, swearing, dirty talk, oral sex (m receiving), safe unprotected sex (be smart kids!), Dieter is softer than ever, yearning, no use of Y/N
Word count: 7.2k (!!!)
Note: This part is dedicated to the one and only Ash @mandoblowmybackout 😘 HAPPY HAPPY BIRTHDAY MONTH! Thank you for cheering me on, sending me endless inspo and letting me scream at you in DMs about Javier and Din before always guiding me back to the light that is Dieter Bravo these past few weeks. You are the real MVP! More notes at the end.
This chapter picks up immediately after Part 4: Contingent.
He holds up a finger and reasons, 'What if I went to bed intending to fuck you the next morning? Not really breaking the rules if you asked me.'
You roll your eyes at his convoluted argument. 'Well, are you going to?'
The morning after
You didn't know that you snore.
But you know you're awake. A hangover is pounding audibly in your ears, and it's unmistakably snoring that you hear over the dull thud.
Your elbow hits something warm and solid as you turn on your back. The snoring breaks off for a second in a snort, then resumes its steady rhythm.
You groan in exasperation, your throat scratchy from slumber as you reach out and slap the expanse of the broad bare back next to you. 'For fuck's sake, Bravo, I said no sleeping over!'
Dieter jolts, grunting as he reaches out blindly to fend you off. He mumbles into the pillow, 'Fuck off.'
You try to sit up, but you're naked under the covers. Wrapping yourself in the sheets, you try to bodily shove him off the bed. 'I'm serious. Get the fuck out of here, Bravo!'
In a flurry of white linens, you find yourself knocked flat on your back, your wrists firmly in one of his big hands. He scowls at you, hair mussed, his voice deeper than you've ever heard it. 'Seriously sweetheart, I'm not a morning person, so cut it out.'
'You agreed to the rules,' you remind him. You try to move your hands but his hold on you is unforgiving.
Dieter shrugs. 'Whose fault is it really? Me, who fell asleep, or you, who fell asleep and failed to enforce your own rules?'
'You're such an asshole.'
He holds up a finger and reasons, 'What if I went to bed intending to fuck you the next morning? Not really breaking the rules if you asked me.'
You roll your eyes at his convoluted argument. 'Well, are you going to?'
A lazy grin tugs one side of his lips upwards. 'You'll just have to wait to find out,' he says with a yawn. 'I'm fucking starving. Can we order room service?'
'Which part of we're just fucking do you not understand, Bravo?' you grouse. 'I'm not having breakfast in bed with you.'
'It's my treat, you're welcome, sweetheart,' he replies and clambers over you to reach for the phone, literally crushing your protests as he calls front desk and proceeds to order what sounds like everything on the breakfast menu.
'I'm going to take a shower,' he announces when he's done, slamming the receiver back on the phone and pecking you on the lips.
You splutter at the casual show of affection. 'Shower usage was not part of the deal -'
With a huff, Dieter presses a firm kiss to your lips, tongue tracing the seam of your mouth until you capitulate. Drawing back leisurely, he grins at you. 'Relax, sweetheart, you don't have to say no to everything. All the fucking time.'
Clearly smug at having shut you up - for now - he saunters into the bathroom, still in his boxers that he didn't take off last night.
A very small part of your brain admits that you wish he did.
You dive back onto the bed, pulling the duvet over your face. Ugh. It's 7:30 in the goddamn morning. After making good on his promise of making it up to you with a very respectable hat trick of orgasms last night, your pussy is still very rudely raring to go since he insisted he was too strung out to fuck.
Dieter hasn't been in the shower for long when there's a knock on the door. Your tummy rumbles and you perk up at the prospect of coffee and bacon. Maybe room service isn't the worst idea, after all. You put on your robe and cross the messy floor to open the door.
It's the skinny pink suit that throws you first. You realise on second glance that the woman at the door has a few years on you - probably in her mid- to late-40s - primped to Hollywood perfection with white blonde hair, Botox and red lipstick. She radiates authority.
You're pretty confident that she isn't here with the room service.
She glances at you from head to toe in what seems like a cool assessment, before asking, 'I'm looking for Dieter Bravo. Is he here?'
'No,' you answer too quickly. At her arched eyebrow, you add sheepishly, '...Ma'am?'
Then of course, Dieter chooses this particular moment to start singing in the fucking shower. A very throaty and off-key rendition of Fleetwood Mac's Go Your Own Way bounces off the bathroom tiles.
The lady gives you a look that says busted.
You sigh in defeat and open the door wider. 'Come in, please.'
You wince when she casts her eyes on the disarray. The air is stagnant with alcohol and sex. You snatch up clothes from the floor, both yours and his, and shove them into a pile in a chair.
'Sorry,' you mumble in embarrassment.
She gives you an understanding smile. 'Trust me, darling, I've seen far worse where Dieter's involved.'
Rubbing your elbow awkwardly, you ask, 'So, you are...?'
'Rebecca,' she replies, extending her manicured hand to you. 'Dieter's agent.'
Her handshake is unsurprisingly firm. 'Oh, I thought Bernado was his agent.'
Rebecca smiles, which warms her blue eyes. 'I’m the big guns they bring out when Dieter gets in trouble. And you are?'
The sound of water tapers off and there's a slide of the shower door.
You clear your throat. 'Um... I'm the intimacy coordinator on the movie. And uh, this isn't what it looks like.'
Before Rebecca has a chance to reply, Dieter yells from the bathroom. 'Is the food here yet, sweetheart? I really need to eat first if you want to fuck. Preferably pancakes. Need some fast-acting glucose.'
You sigh in resignation, face in hand. Rebecca bites her lip, clearly amused by now.
Steam billows dramatically out of the bathroom when the door swings open, and Dieter emerges with a towel around his waist, his damp hair slicked back.
He doesn't look at all surprised to see his agent. If you have to wager a guess, she's clearly the only one who is able to keep any kind of a leash on him.
He ambles over to give her a kiss on the cheek. 'How did you find me, Becks?'
Rebecca tuts. 'Your phone's dead, and your poor driver was waiting outside all night. I'm here to deliver the message that the studio's booked you an STD test at 9am and then a sex therapy session at 10am. It's all part of the deal.'
Dieter groans, flopping onto his back on the mattress, arm flung over his eyes dramatically. 'What, so they think I'm some kind of fucking sexual deviant now?'
'Don't do the crime if you can't do the time,' chides Rebecca with a pat on his towel-covered thigh. 'I'll send a car at 8:30am, don't be late.' Turning to leave, she smiles at you. 'I'm sure I'll see you around, darling.'
The door closes, and you breathe heavily through your nose. 'Well, that was mortifying,' you deadpan, hands on hips.
Dieter props himself up on his elbows and wriggles his eyebrows at you. 'Wanna fuck?'
You glare at him, but it's half-hearted as you're distracted by the fact that you really like his hair pushed back like this. His face is all angular cheekbones and jawline this way. You have to consciously try to put up a fight.
You point at the door his agent just walked through. 'Bravo, that was the second rule broken before breakfast.'
Sitting up, he reaches for you and unties your robe, peeling it back to uncover your bare skin underneath. Pressing a wet kiss between your breasts, he stares up at you with dark eyes, his big hands finding your bare behind and squeezing. 'Come on sweetheart, it's no fun being a goody two shoes.'
Your pulse ticks up, and your head lolls back when he kisses up your neck, thick fingers finding your already wet folds. You let him tug you onto your knees on the bed to hover above his sitting form, pushing your robes off completely.
Beyond feigning any kind of pretence now, you tug off his towel to reveal his already hard cock. Rocking your hips, you rub against the ridge of him and tease, 'I thought you needed pancakes first.'
A deep rumble echoes in his chest, and he thrusts upwards to slide against you, hot lips suckling your tits one after the other. He murmurs against your skin, almost petulantly, 'Want your pussy now.'
You yelp in surprise when he wrestles you onto your back without warning. A whimper escapes you as his thumb finds your clit. You warn him, 'Don't think you can just fuck your way out of sticky situations, Bravo.'
He chuckles and pins you down with his broad frame, and he has the same answer for you as he did last night. 'We'll see about that, sweetheart.'
Neither of you hear room service arrive.
Week 5
It's Tuesday evening and you'd rather be catching up on Succession in bed with a glass of wine, but when one of the assistant directors of photography invited you to his impromptu birthday dinner, you couldn't say no and your plans for a quiet night in were dashed.
At least Pete is here. The pair of you are sat at the end of the table in case a quick escape is necessary, since neither of you really hang out with this particular group, and you suspect you were only invited to make up the numbers.
Wine is running low and the dessert menus are being handed around when your phone, sat on the table in front of you, buzzes with an incoming call.
DIERDRE CALLING
You press the decline button and continue pretending to listen to the conversation, when your phone buzzes again. This time, you turn off the vibration and let it ring out.
Then a barrage of eggplant and water splash emojis appears on your screen and your nostrils flare in annoyance. Pete peers at your phone with an eyebrow up.
'Who’s Dierdre?' he asks.
You sigh. 'My great aunt. Let me just make sure it's not a medical emergency.'
You excuse yourself from the table and call the number back.
He picks up on the first ring. 'Finally, sweetheart.'
You pinch the bridge of your nose. 'What do you want?'
'Need an excuse to get out of that dinner?'
You frown and your eyes dart suspiciously around you, confused. 'Are you stalking me?'
He scoffs. 'As if. Overheard the costumes girls talking about how you'll be at this boring last-minute birthday dinner tonight. I'll give you an out if you ask nicely.'
'I don't need you to do anything of the sort. I could get out of it if I wanted to.'
You can practically hear him rolling his eyes on the other side of the line. 'Please, sweetheart. You're a terrible liar.'
'No, I'm not,' you argue hotly.
'Just tell them I have an urgent issue with tomorrow's script and I need your help.'
You cross your arms. 'You just told me I'm a terrible liar, only to ask me to lie the next second?'
'It's a white lie, you can do it,' he says with a grunt.
You suddenly hear the unmistakable sound of skin sliding on skin on his end. 'What the fuck are you doing?'
'Warming up. If you don't get here in ten minutes, I’ll finish without you.'
Heat prickles under your skin. Unbidden, your imagination conjures up the image of him sprawled lazily in bed in his green robe, his ratty pajamas bottoms tugged down just enough for him to touch himself, while he talks to you on the phone. You ignore the urge to rub your thighs together, and instead, call his bluff. ‘Yeah, right. Now who’s a terrible liar?’
You try not to stutter when you haltingly make your excuses to the birthday boy, blaming your early exit on Dieter and something vague about the script, as he told you to. You hate that he's not wrong - you really are a sorry liar.
Pete gives you a knowing wink and elbows you in the ribs when you return to your seat to grab your coat. 'Have fun watering great aunt Dierdre's eggplants, babe.'
Week 6
Dieter Bravo is a fickle man.
When one is rich and famous with nothing to prove, especially so with an Oscar on the bookshelf, one can afford to be.
Dieter’s been around the block and then some. He's been engaged no less than four times, twice to the same woman. Countless girlfriends. He's never been with anyone who doesn’t want anyone else to know. If anything, the opposite has always been true.
He's never had a problem with women wanting their five minutes of fame - he only keeps them around for just that long anyway. He's also not the kind of guy who needs to be pressed to be affectionate. There are thousands of pap shots of him with his girlfriends of the moment, hand in hand, hand on waist, kissing and nuzzling. He enjoys intimacy and he's not afraid to be seen doing so.
Then you come along with your ground rules. This secrecy - the not being allowed to give anything away - is unexpectedly titillating.
It’s been two weeks since Sundance and he actually has put in an effort to be good. Knowing his tendencies for PDA, he really watches himself. His fingers twitch from restraint when you're near, and he deliberately looks away when you pass each other in the corridors.
You, on the other hand, seem to have it down pat.
In fact, you’re so unflappable that he sometimes sends you random filth to try throw you off. Mainly lowbrow shit with lots of eggplant and cat emojis. He'd watch you from across the room as the screen lights up your face. You would roll your eyes and when you find his, you would give him a stern look with a touch of contempt before carrying on with whatever you were doing.
Never in a million years would he have thought that you'd be the one to fuck up and nearly give it all away.
It's Thursday and the crew is on set, filming an intimate scene in bed. Dieter is braced above Brooke, both naked other than the nude underwear they're wearing. It's probably the most tender love scene in the whole script, and the relative tameness is coming off as a bit flat on camera compared with the more bombastic choreography filmed so far.
You're talking to Tobias and the director of photography, hovering and gesturing over the director's monitor.
Dieter eyes the uncharacteristically tight top you're wearing, cut low with buttons running down the front. He intercepted your laundry run last night by showing up at your door without notice, knocking the basket of dirty clothes from your hands and practically tackling you into bed, where he kept you all night.
You grumbled at him this morning for your lack of clean work clothes while he lounged in bed with an iced coffee from the mini bar, watching you dig deep into your suitcase for something wearable, with this particular blouse being the least revealing and crumpled of the lot.
His mind wanders as he schemes to thwart your laundry plans again tonight. He jumps when Brooke elbows him in the shoulder.
She gives him the side eye. 'What's up with you? You're so distracted today.'
Dieter pfffts in protest, maybe a bit exaggeratedly. 'No, I'm not. Just bored waiting around for the intimacy coordinator to come up with something for the scene.'
Right on cue, you turn around from the directors' huddle, clapping your hands to get the actors' attention.
'Alright folks, I think we cracked it,' you say excitedly, voice raised so they can hear you from across the set. 'Dieter, we need more elevation from you so we can let more light in on Brooke. We also need a bit more movement, so I was thinking, why don't you try that thing you did with your hips last night, and we'll see how it looks on camera.'
The hush that falls over the set lands delicately like first snow.
Dieter's had a lot of things thrown at him over his two and a half decades in the business - including a literal cat once while on Late Night. Very little fazes him.
Still, it's taking an enormous amount of willpower to keep his jaw locked so his fucking tongue doesn't roll out.
The look on your face would've been funny if he didn't think you having a heart attack was a real possibility in this moment.
So he comes to your rescue.
Dieter chuckles, cutting through the quiet, just a tad too loudly. 'You mean the hip thing that I did in the sex tape from 2011 that I showed you last night?'
It's not great. Improv has never been his forte, and you've put him on the spot.
But it works. The veil of silence lifts as the crew laughs good-naturedly, and you seem to unfreeze as what just happened obviously hits you. Being the trooper that you are, you bite your lip and you try your best to laugh with everyone else, and carry on.
Dieter grins to himself.
You're fucking adorable.
Week 7
The problem with having an agent who is practically family is that it's impossible for him to get out of anything.
Dieter tried throwing a tantrum. He tried begging. He tried to fire her.
Rebecca had laughed like he said something hilarious, handed him his suit for the evening, and told him to get ready for the limo at 7pm. She had the audacity to wink at him and pat him on the cheek. 'Enjoy, darling.'
So here he is on the red carpet of Samantha's Secret, with the starlet in the titular role on his arm. His sunglasses are on per usual, and he’s trying not to scowl too obviously at the cameras.
You'd been genuinely amused when he told you his plans for this particular Saturday night. You'd laughed loudly, 'The studio is basically pimping you out.'
It's part of what he calls his penance package for his fuck-up at Sundance. This C-list film (to be kind) is the pet project of the actress in the lead, one of the bigshot studio executives' daughter. She wanted Dieter to be her date for the evening - what baby wants, baby gets.
The worst part of all this? The whole cast and crew of Resurgence have also been invited to witness his humiliation. And you've been driving him to distraction from the moment you arrived some fifteen minutes ago.
Not that you're trying to. In fact, it's precisely because you are not trying. You haven't even looked in his direction since he spotted you. You're hard to miss tonight though, in a black sequin dress with long sleeves that hits just above your knees. You're hanging out with the makeup and hair girls, champagne in hand, obviously having a far better time than he is.
As his date for the evening steers him into the cinema proper, his chief makeup artist on the film yells his name and waves vigorously. 'Dieter! Come take a selfie with us, dude!'
Relieved for the diversion, he all but shakes off his date and strolls over to your group, tipping his sunglasses down his nose and grinning broadly. 'It would be my pleasure, ladies.'
While the girls fuss with their multiple cameras and argue about filters, Dieter discreetly makes his way to the back of the group to stand directly behind you.
'Hello, sweetheart,' he whispers into your ear. 'I like this dress on you.'
'Thanks. And your date is super cute,' you reply sarcastically, nodding towards the redhead who's rolling her eyes at him and tapping her foot impatiently.
'Play nice, sweetheart,' Dieter tuts, pausing to smile with teeth as the camera flashes. While your friends are distracted checking the selfies, he sneaks a hand into the space between you to casually squeeze your ass, and smirks at your outraged hiss. He counts it as win that you don't bat away his hand. He placates you, 'After all, you know who I'm going home with tonight.'
'We’ll see about that, Bravo,' you throw the now oft-used refrain over your shoulder, a challenge in your eyes, before being pulled away by your friends in between shouts of thanks Dieter!
The screening is in a fancy cinema with plush velvet sofas and mahogany side tables.
You know Dieter is sitting a couple of rows behind you. You saw him on his way in from the corner of your eye, with the starlet of the hour - a seriously dubious honour - on his arm.
The movie is, as expected, terrible. Not even terrible in a funny way, just plain terrible. But is it worth sitting through a two-hour long bad film when the champagne keeps magically topping itself up, as do the canapes and popcorn?
Hell yeah it is. Cheapest Saturday night out ever.
During a particularly dull lull in the film, you whisper to the girls that you're taking a bathroom break. You look straight ahead of you as you go up the stairs, but you feel his eyes on you anyway.
It's quiet outside, and no one is around when you exit the bathroom. Dieter is waiting for you at a doorway shielded by heavy velvet curtains, and you let him drag you impatiently into the dark space by your waist.
Once the curtains swish shut, the thick fabric brushing your bare back, you yank him in by the lapels of his smart suit and press a hard kiss to his lips, drawing a sound of surprise from him.
'Are there cameras in here?' you ask, pulling back. Dieter walks you further into the cloakroom, palming your ass, past racks of thick coats until he finds an unoccupied wall to push you up against.
'No, I checked,' he replies into the hollow of your neck and grabs your thigh, hooking it around his waist and grinds. He chokes on an inhale. ‘I’m so fucking hard for you, sweetheart.’
You bite your lip to stop yourself from groaning at the sweet pressure against your clit. You tease, ‘Why don’t you ask your little girlfriend to give you a handy in the dark while you watch her dreadful acting? Sounds like some weird kink you'd be into.’
His chuckle breaks off unsteadily as you reach down to run a finger along the outline of his already straining erection. ‘Shit, I like it when you’re jealous.’
You huff. ‘I wish I was. I would love to actually feel something during this awful movie.’
‘Please let me fuck you, baby. Can’t sit through another hour of the fucking film with you just there two rows away,’ begs Dieter as he rocks into your hand, his fingers finding their way underneath your dress now.
You grab his wandering hands and shake your head sternly. ‘Can’t. I borrowed this dress from the movie. Can’t get anything on it.’
Dieter whines into your ear, his breath hot on your skin. ‘I’ll pay for it. Please sweetheart, I’m gonna come in my fucking pants.’
‘Shhhh,’ you press your index finger to his lips, his desperation turning you on more than you care to admit. Dieter sucks on your digit, the cavern of his mouth molten hot. Grabbing him by his tie, you spin him round so he’s the one leaning on the wall, and you hold his gaze while your other hand finds his belt buckle.
His pupils are blown as you extract your finger from between his lips with a pop. The heels make it tricky, but you manage to get down on your knees as gracefully as you could, undoing his belt and unzipping his fly as you go.
You’ve been sleeping together for a good three weeks now, and you haven’t had the chance to do this just yet. He always beats you to it, burying his face between your thighs more often than not as soon as he gets you in his room - or your room, or on a couple of occasions, Supplies Closet 306 - and always thrusting into you while your cunt is still clenching from orgasm, as if he just can't hold back.
Releasing his hard cock from his boxers, you wrap your palm around him and stroke him firmly, smiling when he gasps. You tell him, ‘You'll have be quick about this, or people will notice we’re gone, ok?’
He nods wordlessly, his whole forehead wrinkling as if in great pain. He tucks his chin in to watch you close your lips over the tip of his cock, and his jaw goes slack as you let his length sink into your wet mouth.
Dieter groans low into the darkness, fingers weaving into your hair and his rings catching on stray strands as you go as far down as you can, filling your mouth so completely full with his thick cock.
It’s been a while since you’ve done this, the hinge of your jaw already aches from the pressure and you savour the sensation. He must have showered just before, the sweetness of soap clings to your tongue as you forego any teasing and instead, work up a brisk rhythm. One of your hands is braced on his strong thigh, flexing underneath your fingers as he twitches and jerks, and your other is fisting what you can’t fit into your mouth.
Dieter is mumbling incoherently above you, broken words between panting breaths seeping into your consciousness - fuck, sweetheart - that’s it - so fucking good - look at me, look at me while you take my cock -
When you do, he looks so far gone that you moan around him and a violent shudder rattles his entire body. He thrusts forward without warning, which makes you choke and spit floods your mouth.
‘Sweetheart, you’re gonna make me come,’ he blurts out, his head rolling back and hitting the wall with a loud thump.
You can’t quite tell if it’s a warning or a plea. So you open your mouth just a bit wider, and tears sting the corner of your eyes as he begins to fuck your mouth - shallowly, experimentally at first. Then deeper, harder, until you're whimpering around him.
You’re absolutely certain that no man has ever fucked your throat as deep as he is right now, and your cunt clenches on nothing when he loses it, his hold on your hair now bordering on painful, his body pulled completely taut.
This time, it’s definitely a warning as he chokes, the rhythm of his hips wavering. ‘I’m gonna come in your mouth if you don’t stop, sweetheart.’
You try to smile around him, but you can’t, his cock is so fucking big that there is no room for manoeuvre. So instead, you reach down and firmly cup his heavy sac. His hips jerk, the tip of his head nearly hitting the back of your throat, and with a broken growl, his cum fills your mouth with each erratic thrust. You swallow thickly - once, twice - before he stills and crumples against the wall.
His grip in your hair finally lets up, and reaching down for your hands, he pulls you up on shaky knees, his lips crashing onto your swollen ones, a moan caught deep in his throat.
Then he pulls back and sighs, soft eyes on you while he wipes the glossy spit off your bottom lip. ‘Thank you.’
'And that’s how it’s done,' you reply a bit too smugly. The thinly veiled dig at the Sundance incidence doesn't go over his head.
He pulls up his trousers and gives you a lopsided grin, before pulling you in for another kiss, his rough palms splayed on your lower back. 'There's that smart fucking mouth.'
Hands on his chest, you try to push him off, but he doesn't let you, easily overpowering you. Instead, he traces the outline of your jaw with his nose until his breathing evens out.
You protest, ‘We have to get back, we've been gone too long. You're lucky if your date hasn't sent out a search party.'
Ignoring you, Dieter pulls out a key card from his back pocket. 'Come back to mine tonight.'
'I can’t. We’re going partying after this, it'll be too late to do anything,' you argue.
He shrugs carelessly. 'I don't give a fuck. Come after the party.'
You don't give him an answer. Instead, you tease, 'But are you sure you haven’t been pimped out for the whole night?'
With a grumble, he delivers a sharp slap to your backside that makes you squeak indignantly, and he presses the card into your palm before pushing you towards the exit. 'Off you go, sweetheart. I'll wait up for you.'
It's past 3am. You really shouldn't. You don't even have a spare change of clothes or makeup remover wipes. There’s nothing but a very embarrassing walk of shame and a hangover awaiting you a few hours down the line.
But somehow, you still key in his hotel address when you call your Uber.
And somehow, you're in the hotel elevator going all the way up to the penthouse.
You've been to his room enough to know your way around in the relative darkness. It's easily five times as big as yours, with floor-to-ceiling windows looking out over the city lights, now veiled by sheer curtains drawn closed.
The only source of light in the room is the bedside lamp on the nightstand, messy as usual, covered with his rings, reading glasses, scripts and a tall glass of water. One thing you've learned about him these past weeks is that he’s a stickler for hydrating, if not anything else.
Dieter is sleeping on his stomach, elbows bent and both hands buried underneath his pillow. His bare back rises and falls with his breathing, and he's snoring gently.
He's usually a heavy sleeper, but tonight, he wakes up when you crawl in on the other side of the king-sized bed.
'What time is it?' he yawns and pulls back the duvet for you to shuffle into the cocoon.
'Almost four,' you answer, settling onto your back, and you sigh when your head sinks into the plush pillows. They are so much more comfortable than the ones in your room. You might actually steal a couple for yourself.
Dieter shifts so he's on his side to wrap one arm around your waist, nuzzling the underside of your neck as he breathes out through his nose. 'Did you have fun with the girls?'
'Who said there were any girls there?'
A giggle escapes you when he bites out a grunt at your insolence and pulls you tight against him, his breath fanning your ear. Neither of you makes any excuses about fucking the next morning - you don't remember when you stopped, or who stopped first, to be honest.
Dieter reaches behind him to switch off the lamp. He presses a kiss to where your jawbone meets your ear and worms one arm under you, so that you can snuggle right up against him, resting your cheek on his chest.
Your eyes take a while to adjust to the darkness. You blink until you see the outline of his arm, slung over you. You stare at the black triangle tattoo near the crease of his elbow for a while as your mind buzzes with something that has been weighing on you. Something which, after too many glasses of free champagne followed by overpriced cocktails, can no longer be put off.
You find yourself whispering into the stillness. 'My ex proposed to me at Sundance, four years ago. Then he broke up with me a year later. Also at Sundance.'
You're probably half-hoping he's asleep, so that you can get it off your chest without him ever knowing it. You don't owe him an explanation, and he never asked. You hear silence as he holds his breath.
The arm under you curls you closer into him, and he asks, lips brushing your temple and beard tickling your ear. 'Want me to ruin his career? Or break his legs?'
You close your eyes and smile. 'I think he's already done the career ruining on his own.'
He waits a beat, then clarifies, 'So… just break his legs then?'
Your whole body shakes with laughter, and you feel him grin against the side of your neck, his arms anchoring you to his warmth as you fall into a deep sleep.
Dieter’s used to you waking up on the furthest opposite side of the bed. Your sleeping habits seem to imitate your constant need keep him at arm’s length in real life.
Which is why he’s confused that you’re spooning him, your arms tied loosely around his middle, a semi-dried patch of drool on his shoulder.
Don’t get him wrong, he loves being the little spoon. Especially with your soft, naked tits pressed up against his back. His cock twitches when you shift in your sleep, your nipples drawing patterns on his skin.
The room is awash with late-morning sun. He brings your hand up and presses a kiss to your knuckles. ‘Morning, sweetheart.’
You grumble sleepily, burying your face into his shoulder. ‘Oh god, I can't open my eyes. The mascara's stuck them together.’
Dieter rolls over and catches a glimpse of black smudges on your eyes when you're too slow to hide behind your hands. He grins, ‘For what it's worth, I think you look sexy.’
‘Shut up,’ you whine and bury your face into the pillow. ‘I look like a panda.’
He chuckles and jokes. ‘I can work with that. I’ll just have to fuck you from behind then.’
He doesn’t expect you to moan at that. It goes straight to his cock.
Pressing a half-kiss to your shoulder, his voice drops an octave when he asks, ‘I didn’t quite catch that, sweetheart. Did you want something?’
You still refuse to look at him, if anything, you burrow deeper into the pillow, but your needy whimper is unmistakable. Dieter unwraps you slowly, finding you completely naked under the duvet.
You thrum with tension when he runs a calloused hand down the dip of your back, and he climbs over you, holding his weight while he laves your neck with his tongue.
His hands squeeze your ass cheeks together as he slides his erection between the plump flesh. He croons in your ear, ‘You want me to bend you over and pound that pussy from behind?’
You make a choking noise and roll your hips backwards against him. ‘Fuck, yes please.’
'Since you asked so nicely,' he hums and nudges your thighs slightly apart to ease a finger into you. His chest reverberates with a deep sound at what he finds. ‘So wet already, sweetheart.’
You writhe shamelessly under him while he fingers you, the slick sounds of your pussy stretching around his one thick finger, and then two, getting you wetter each time he pumps into you right up to the knuckle.
He takes his sweet time, nipping and licking every part of you he can reach until you gripe at him. ‘Dieter.’
You gasp when he smacks you on your ass, and his cock lurches at the slippery gush around his fingers. He purrs by your ear, ‘Be a good girl and get a condom from the top drawer for me.'
You don’t move for a long moment. So long that he hesitates and is about to pull back, before he hears your tentative question. ‘Did you - did you pass that STD test?’
He only realises he’s stopped moving when you moan and move against him, searching for friction.
Dieter swallows, but his answer still comes out in a mangled stutter. ‘Yeah - yeah I did, sweetheart.’
You look back at him over your shoulder, all smeared eyeliner and mascara, biting your plump bottom lip. ‘I've been tested too if you want to - you know.’
Before his brain can catch up, he’s already flipped you on your back, his hands tight around your wrists. He rasps against your lips. ‘If I want to - what?’
You worry your bottom lip prettily. He's getting fucking light headed with you looking up at him like this. ‘We don't have to use a condom. I’m on the pill too - ’
You’ve barely gotten your last word out before Dieter lunges at you with a bruising kiss, draping his whole body atop yours until you feel his cock nudge against your cunt.
‘Don’t hold it against me if I don’t last,’ he moans into your collar bone, biting down sharply as he pushes your right thigh up and back against the bed, opening you up for him.
Impatiently, you reach down to wrap your hand around him and guide his head right against your sopping entrance. ‘I don't care. Just fuck me, Bravo.’
The scrape of your back against the mattress burns as Dieter sheathes himself inside you in one hard thrust, shoving you up the bed. The burn in your cunt is something else - the stretch is perfect and he feels completely different - fucking amazing - with nothing in between.
He looks down at you with stormy eyes, brows knitted tightly together, braced on his elbows on either side of your head as you watch him, your lips parted in a silent O.
‘Goddamn, you feel - ’ he breaks off in a feral growl when you lift your hips to slide him in just a bit deeper. ‘ - Fuck!’
And that’s all it takes to break Dieter Bravo.
He doesn’t hear your throaty cries as he fucks deep into you, or the wet slap of skin on skin as your bodies collide. There's no finesse to his movements, only a sloppy, raw heat building between you two.
He’s never been a multi-tasker. It’s one of the reasons he’s a great actor - when he’s in the moment, he’s in it. And right now, the one thing he can focus on is the incredible wet grip of your cunt on his naked cock. He’s struggling to do anything other fucking you. One stroke at a time.
His body is playing catch up with his mind. His eyes fixate on your lips, but it takes him two beats before he leans in to smear a messy kiss on you. He catches sight of your tits, but he only reaches out to grab one clumsily after watching them bounce back and forth for what seems like long minutes.
Then he props himself up higher and drops his gaze to watch your cunt stretch and swallow his cock. It’s completely covered in your slick when he pulls out almost all the way, before shoving it back inside you so hard that he actually hears you shriek this time.
As if propelled into action, he starts rubbing your clit with his thumb, eyes sliding up to your face. Your hair is stuck to beads of sweat on your forehead and neck, eyes glazed over, and he knows that in this moment, your body is completely his.
‘I’m gonna come,’ you pant, sheets twisting under your fingers as you desperately try to hold on to something as you spiral. ‘Dieter, I’m gonna come - ’
He pushes into you harder as your cunt begins to clench and squeeze around him. He bares his teeth and literally digs his heels in. ‘Yeah, sweetheart? Go on then, come around my cock. Show me how good I make you feel, baby.’
You thrash under him - there is no other way to describe it - and with a wail you break apart under him, your pussy squelching around him in a stranglehold as he continues to drive into you.
‘So fucking beautiful,’ he snarls. He doesn't know where to look - the curve of your neck as you tilt your head back to gasp for breath, or the glaze of your cum running down your thighs, or the expanse of your soft, heated skin in between. ‘This pussy is all for me. Isn’t it?’
You nod frantically at his demand and he exhales raggedly, pushing himself up to sit back on his haunches. Hands on your upper thighs, he holds you obscenely wide to watch his thick cock disappear between the lips of your cunt. Slowly, almost carefully, before he picks up the pace again until he has you arching your back and keening at the depth that he’s hitting. He groans and his eyes clench shut, hips stuttering as he reaches the end of his tether.
He looks up at you, jaw hanging open and asks, ‘Where do you want me, sweetheart?’
‘Inside,’ you plead, with no hesitation. ‘Fill me up, please.’
‘I’ll fucking fill you up. I'll fuck your tight little pussy full of my cum,’ he rants and pins your knees all the way back to your shoulders, driving your hips forward so he can plough into you. ‘Take all of it, take all of me -’
You feel him before you hear him. His cock seems to swell impossibly inside you before he roars, head thrown back and the vein in his neck throbbing as he fills your cunt with thrust after thrust of hot cum, his rings biting into the sensitive flesh of your inner thighs as he empties himself into you.
Bonelessly, he falls onto you, his weight crushing you to the mattress. He buries his face in your chest, almost wheezing as he struggles to catch his breath. You feel his softening cock slide out of you, cum leaking messily down your inner thighs, making you shudder. You don't mind though, and you absent-mindedly run your fingers through his thick curls.
Dieter slowly comes back to himself. He sluggishly nuzzles your tits, tasting the salt in between them. Rubbing his sweaty forehead against your neck, he feels the sticky peel of flesh as he moves off of you, only to pull you flush against him, back to his front, sweat sealing your skin together while he presses kisses to your shoulder as the high passes, and a deep calm settles into his bones.
His confession is whispered against your ear. ‘I haven't done that in years.’
You tangle your fingers in his and hold his hand against your stomach, relishing in the solid weight of him around your ravaged body. You don't hesitate when you reply, ‘Me neither.’
Dieter lets your two-worded, almost offhand admittance wash over him, and his chest swells with possessive pride. For the first time since this started three weeks ago - seven since that day in Supplies Closet 306 - you lower your hackles just long enough for him to take a peek in, twice. After a night of hard drinking and sleep deprivation, but still.
He'll take it. He'll take whatever you deign to throw at his feet.
Chin on your shoulder, he watches your thumb draw circles on his knuckles, your me neither ringing in his ears. He can't help but wonder if your moronic ex-fiancé was the last man to have been granted the privilege, and he holds you just a bit tighter.
Your pliant weight goes slack in his arms as you nod off. He gets comfortable behind you - he doesn't need to be anywhere today and he can do with a bit more shuteye, especially with you around.
He's pressing a closed-mouth kiss to your temple, his eyes tracing the contours of your face under heavy lids, when the realisation rudely sets in.
He's in so much fucking trouble.
{ Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Part 6: Confute >> }
Note: So... this chapter turned out far fluffier than I ever intended any part of this series to be when I first started Consent. Probably the fluffiest anything I've ever written... and I kinda... liked it?? 🤷🏻♀️ Please be gentle with me, I'm feeling vulnerable after this little break away from writing - I really hope this part didn't disappoint. Reblogs and comments would be very appreciated as always!
As much as I hate admitting it - we are nearing the end of the series, or at least, this particular series in this universe 🥺 I have a rough outline drafted, but I will be taking my time and make sure Consent gets the conclusion it deserves!
Thank you my wonderful readers for sticking with me throughout this break, and for patiently enduring my many random Dieter posts over the past weeks. I'm so happy to be back in my writing headspace with Dieter 😘
#dieter bravo fanfic#dieter bravo x you#dieter bravo x reader#dieter bravo#dieter bravo x fem!reader#dieter bravo x f!reader#dieter bravo smut#dieter bravo fanfiction#the bubble fanfiction#cliff beasts 6#dieter bravo self insert#consent series
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Endless 4SD
#vaxleth#keyleth#keyleth of the air ashari#vaxildan#vax'ildan#matt mercer#marisha ray#sam riegel#laura bailey#critteredit#critical role#4 sided dive#4sd#cr spoilers#criticalroleedit#critroleedit#4sdedit#4sidededdiveedit#myedit#endless 4 sided dive#halsin has entered the chat
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If it were up to you ( one of the best hellcheer fanfiction writer) what would you fix or change about the fight of Icarus?
Aw shux, that’s high praise! I really don’t think I’m worthy of that, but thank you 🤍
Oh God… what a laundry list 😆 read at your own risk below (I think I’ve finally run out of things to say about this book and will be moving on now 😅)
I’m going to be honest, the best way fo fix it would be to not write a book. Point blank. If I was involved with the show at all I would have NEVER written a book about Eddie in any official capacity. I don’t know if the author was aware of just how unhinged certain parts of his fanbase are (I’m sure she is now) but you’re not going to make anyone happy with this. Eddie’s ridiculously popular yes, I get it, but part of his appeal for people was how untouched his background was.
Flight of Icarus is kind of a mess plot wise with pretty weak/poor characterizations. There’s some good elements and scenes in it. It’s not bad, but it’s not great either. It’s pretty mid. I mean books based on tv shows aren’t exactly known for their… luster. It’s obviously going to lack the passion of an unpaid fanfic writer who has spent endless hours watching season 4 and doing in-depth research and analysis for their work… but that’s what we’re all used to. That’s our standard. So it’s kind of already set up for failure.
But, if I was in charge of a book like this, here’s some of the things I would do differently:
I’d have picked ONE main plot to focus on because there is way too much going on in these 280 pages for me to have the time to be invested or care about anything. There’s like three plus storylines going on with Eddie all to push ONE narrative which is basically him choosing between risking everything for a fantasy/dream of fame and money or staying true to himself and what’s real which is the steadfast loyalty of his friends and family. This takes the form of Al vs Wayne, Paige vs Ronnie, LA vs Hawkins, solo career vs band/hellfire, dropping out to try to become a rockstar vs being the first Munson to graduate, who Eddie wants to be vs who he truly is deep down.
It’s just too much.
I’d have taken a little more time making Eddie three dimensional. I know he’s a side character, but a lot of heart and thought went into creating him (at least on Joe’s end). I’d have made more conscious choices for his character, especially if he’s narrating in first person (I would have not used first person). His outer dialog is great (the dialog throughout the whole thing is actually really great, you can tell the author’s a screen writer and it’s one of the stronger elements to the book) but his inner monologue is pretty ooc and at times really off. He lacks a lot of the things that drew people to him in the first place or it’s just not as strongly presented I guess. He doesn’t feel fully formed.
If I was going to give Eddie a love interest (I don’t know why you would do that to yourself at this point, his fanbase is volatile at best and either ships him with Steve, Chrissy, or themselves, no one is going to like it) I’d have given her WAY better writing than an immersive wattpad character with little to no character traits outside of her aesthetic and interests which is an alternative style and liking music. Wow. Groundbreaking. I would have her make decisions based on a fully formed personality verses the convenience of the plot. And if not, if she’s going to be a means to an end, I’d at least go all in and make her wild or evil or a total bitch or conniving or funny or grumpy or goofy or something. She’s not given enough focus or time to be well rounded so I’d just have fun and go batshit crazy with her (don’t worry Paige, you’re mine now and I will give you an actual character and vindication).
Eddie choosing between his dad and Wayne would have probably been the plot I picked to focus on and I would have really dived into that. The good, bad and the ugly of the Munson family. Because Al (that would not be his name btw 🤢) and Wayne reflect the two sides of Eddie’s character. A charming, self serving, cowardly asshole and a good, strong and kind person who protects and looks after others. I like Ronnie a lot and she’s probably the best written character in the book, but Wayne needed to have more spotlight for this.
I’d have definitely made the plot a lot less fantastical and way more of a simple character study. Just Eddie deciding between embracing the infamy of the Munson family or choosing to rise above it. Does he decide to scheme and cheat like his dad to get more out of life or does he do the right thing and stay the course to actually graduate and make something of himself. That’s it. All that’s needed. Eddie getting a shot at being a rockstar at eighteen in Hawkins is already kind of odd, especially when his in is a twenty year old “junior scout”??? Who just happens to be at his dive bar and have the hots for him and fucks him and pretty much offers him a life in LA on a silver platter with no issues other than having to bail on his band and high school club?? It’s… a bit much for our unlucky loser boy we see in the show. Book Eddie is as lucky as they come, but he’s a total dumbass and decides to trust and scheme with his deadbeat father??? Who has always failed him? Why? I get he needs money but his kinda girlfriend’s got a job and he’s pretty much got a record deal. What even is this? That whole storyline would be scrapped to hell. But hey, at least it’s more believable than an actual drug heist and a kingpin and a shoot out. Oh and arson. It’s giving… *shivers* Riverdale and not in a good way.
Lastly, I’d have taken the opportunity to develop characters from the show a little more. Not a ton, but like the author did with Higgins. I really like how he was written in the novel. He had a lot of fire and personality out of nowhere which was kind of hilarious. I probably would have expanded Jason the most actually, I’d have added more to that tense rivalry. And I’d have left Chrissy pretty much out of it. The talent show is best left to the imagination and we already have a delicate narrative between them because of the forest scene. I wouldn’t want to add too much there. But she’d have a cameo for sure. Like brief eye contact or a shared smile or something at the very end of the book. Just a little glimmer of what’s to come. I’m also a Eddie has always had a little bit of a thing for Chrissy truther, so in my bias I might have him quietly admire her from afar or something.
And there you go.
I mean you’re going to get my version of his backstory eventually anyway and bonus he and Chrissy live, get married and have kids. Yay!
#flight of icarus#hellcheer#eddie x chrissy#eddissy#munningham#chrissy x eddie#eddie munson#eddie book
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This was my birthday gift to me that I finally finished. An incredibly indulgent My Little Pony AU (Gen 4)
Fun lore if you'd like it:
Dream:
Earth pony. Considered the most common and sturdiest type of pony, often depicted as unremarkable.
pony name is Peace Parley (meaning "betting on peace.")
Cutie mark is an ouroboros, representing unity and his special talent, diplomacy.
Despite his talent, he's not actually good at politics. He's good at making people join together for a common cause, but there seems to be a distinct difference between mediating a fight between two quarreling farmers and rubbing elbows with the nobles of Equestria.
Elected of the mayor of an incredibly small village, the kind where everyone knows everyone. Was known for being fair and willing to listen to both sides. Twilight Sparkle's ascension caused a shift in where ponies and business lived, and in the process, major gentrification spread to Ponyville, hitting Dream's little village along the way. Initially, he tried his best to be kind and welcoming, but became furious as his hometown was overtaken and many ponies displaced or forced out, and resorted to hostility and destruction in a desperate attempt to ward the outside forces away.
As things become worse for him and rumors among the nobles start to spread, his cutie mark begins to be given more negative associations: rather than the harmony he strives for, others see it as a endless cycle of discord that he brings upon others. Ostracization is the best of what he receives.
Dream, back when they did manhunts, used to tie up his tail so as not to give the hunters the option to pull on it. Its habit now.
Has lost faith in destiny and harmony, but desperately wants to find a reason to believe again.
Punz:
Bat pony. A history of stigma has left them preferring their own communities. Considered nocturnal, but they can choose their sleep schedule just like any pony.
pony name is Whittlewhistle (a reference to his talent and to the sound he can make if he's flying fast enough)
Cutie mark a bejeweled knife. Special talent is whittling and/or woodworking.
learned to whittle with a stolen knife and a broken chair leg as a child, and would sell his creations for coin, which would then be used to feed his little brother. Is very proud of himself for how well he's provided for the both of him.
Has come to dislike abstract sculptures, but finds they sell well among the nobles of Canterlot and charges immense amounts for them.
Is still in contact with the batpony community of Luna Bay, but has left for the big city to take on more clients. They pay well, but he's increasingly bitter about how different species are treated among the supposedly accepting ponies of Equestria, and fights the urge to stab people every single day.
Is a slightly above average flier, with the potential to be better, if he cared enough to focus on it. Excellent at dive-bombs.
Doesn't have faith in destiny or harmony, and certainly not in other ponies, but he has faith in Dream.
Sam:
Sphinx, technically. He's a hybrid, but his mother is a Sphinx, so that's what he considers himself. His name is Sammy.
Sphinx and other felines hail from Abyssinia, a region far, far south of Equestria. Sphinx in particular are known to be rigid, fierce, and masters of word games.
Sam's mother fell in love with someone outside her station rather than with the match picked out for her. The love ended in heartbreak, and left her heavily pregnant. Not wanting to face her family after campaigning so hard to be allowed to choose her partner, she went north to Equestria.
Sam grew up without a lot of his culture, surrounded by ponies rather than cats. Their family and homeland are a difficult subject for his mother, so he finds himself lost, longing for purpose and connection. He has no cutie mark, and the concept of magical destiny is both bewildering and something coveted.
Grew up being stared at, told he looked strange and weird and exotic. He has gone the route of treating these comments as if they are normal and fine, but the stares make him uncomfortable.
He is an average flier, and often uses his wings to glide rather than take off. His tail rattles when he wiggles it.
Is easily led into believing the worst of Dream from the ponies around him, but Punz's brutal honesty and cutting takes have shaken a lot of Sam's initial ideas.
#awesamdrunz#artchitecture#I am really into lore and worldbuilding stuff#whether its for mc or for mlp
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[CN] MLQC Lucien's Through Thousands of Mirrors event translation (Day 6 - Tuesday)
⚠️ SPOILER ALERT ⚠️
This post contains a HEAVY SPOILER for the event that has not been released in EN yet! Feel free to notify me if there are any mistakes in the translation~
Through Thousands of Mirrors Event | Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 3 | Day 4 | Day 5 | Day 6 (You're here!) | Day 7 | HS/Uni SSR Story: Monochrome Scenery
special thanks to @/ivioivioivi and @/endless-season for providing some insight and helping me translating this one 🫶
-
[MATH]
Even Lucien occasionally struggles to get out of bed in the morning after compressing too much sleep time.
Especially on rainy, overcast days with gloomy lighting.
On mornings like this, rather than going to class, shouldn't he stay snugly under the cover and entertain himself by reading a few interesting research papers?
-
[MATH/BIOCHEMISTRY]
To be honest, these mathematical concepts are a bit too basic for Lucien.
However, the logic and beauty he experiences from mathematics still make him choose to follow the professor's lectures, revisit the interconnected logic and the joy of establishing inference.
-
[BIOCHEMISTRY]
The weather and scenery are particularly nice in autumn.
The sentiment isn't limited to the students, even the biochemistry professor teaching the class thinks the same way.
The professor, who has a touch of romanticism, watches as another autumn leaf falls, and then suggests that everyone take their textbooks. He declares that the remainder of the class will be conducted outdoors.
-
[PREVIEW/COMPUTER SCIENCE]
Lucien, who is prepping in the library, looks at the stack of books next to him that almost toppling over, and begins to contemplate that he should perhaps minor in architecture.
After all, the notion of book piles collapsing and causing accidents sounds quite dangerous.
Especially when the books around him are getting higher and higher.
-
[COMPUTER SCIENCE]
Software knowledge is inevitably required in experiments.
Hence, it is essential to study some programming-related courses for future research purposes.
Lucien diligently takes notes, absorbed in the ocean of code.
And then he reflects that there's more than one ocean in the world; shallowly dipping into this one for a brief taste will suffice, while the ocean of neuroscience next door is more suitable for deep dives and exploration.
-
[BIOMED-LAB]
Cultivating cells requires extreme care and meticulousness.
Any tiny mistake could cause all kinds of issues such as contamination.
The other students stare at Lucien’s pretty much perfect substrate with admiration and come up to ask for tips.
What tips? It’s just that back in the days when he was at BS’ labs, he'd been through this process where anything he tried to raise or cultivate eventually died*, that's all.
[*: This is a bit hard to translate, it is something like; whatever you raise, it will eventually die, it can be by accident or purpose.]
[...Probably in his eyes back then, life is just so fragile. There are no tips, just try your best to survive. Not exactly nihilism, just the reality he used to see 🫠]
[Anything might refer to cells, plants, lab animals, and... well, anything. There's no limit of ethics in BS labs.]
-
[BIOMED-LAB]
On the way to the laboratory, Lucien notices that there is another long queue forming at the doughnut shop on the street corner.
From the perspective of quickly replenishing sugar, he thought maybe he should add a side dish to his lunch.
But considering the queue length... the cafeteria's burgers are more efficient.
-
[LAB]
With a few hours of rare free time, Lucien decides to attend the film screening event currently being held at the school.
The student besides him quietly complains about how to write an analytical paper on such a popular movie, and Lucien feels a bit lucky to be just an ordinary audience member.
[A bit amusing how he ended up to be program consultant who does more than analyze movies content so he can provide some insight and knowledge for MC's program haha🤣]
#eepy bby#WHY THE KNIVES ARE GETTING WORSE W EACH DAY#im scared of tomorrow lmaoo#mlqc lucien#mr love queen's choice#mlqc cn#mlqc spoiler#mlqc#mlqc translation#mr. love queen's choice#mr love lucien#mlqc xu mo#mlqc spoilers
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My media this week (24-30 Mar 2024)
📚 STUFF I READ 📚
😊 Murder at the Island Hotel (Miss Underhay Mystery #15) (Helena Dixon, author; Karen Cass, narrator) - Kitty & Alice go to an island hotel to certify it for the local hotel owners assn & of course murder happens.
😍 Operation: Gros Michel (SquadOfCats) - 358K, stucky recovery fic - incredible, phenomenal fic - really digging in to trauma & recovery but in a way that doesn't feel too heavy/dark for very long - Steve's POV so we see his healing & recovery, and his finding purpose again. Amazing OCs. Plus a lot of really, really yummy sexy times. Reminds you that hope is an action, hope is hard, and hope has many manifestations of being. also makes you love Florida at least a little bit.
😊 Where The Inevitable Isn't (Survivah) - 41K, sterek, alternate dimension AU - enjoyable dimension hopping fic with Stiles Prime portaling to a more dystopic/gritty dimension where he & D are super together. I really liked the aspect that they could ping pong back & forth between dimensions, it wasn't just a one-time thing
💖💖 +121K of shorter fic so shout out to these I really loved 💖💖
Deep Sea Diving (AidaRonan) - MCU: shrunkyclunks, 5K - forever fave, comfort read
The Salt is All the Same (the_deep_magic) - The Eagle of the Ninth: Marcus/Esca, 23K - a really good omegaverse AU
📺 STUFF I WATCHED 📺
D20: Adventuring Party - s2, e1-2 [Pirates of Leviathan]
Game Changer - s6, e4
Um, Actually - s9, e3
D20: Fantasy High: Junior Year - "Baron's Game" (s21, e12)
D20: Adventuring Party - "Big Clue Energy" (s16, e12)
D20: Mice & Murder - "It Was a Dark and Stormy Night" (s9, e1)
D20: Mice & Murder - "A Scandal in Britannia" (s9, e2)
D20: Mice & Murder - "A Time For Clues" (s9, e3)
D20: Adventuring Party - s4, e1-3 [Mice & Murder]
🎧 PODCASTS 🎧
The Allusionist - 191. Hypochondria
Worlds Beyond Number - WWW #3: The Charter
Worlds Beyond Number - WWW #4: In the Drink
Worlds Beyond Number: Fireside - Fireside Chat for WWW ep3 "The Charter" and ep4 "In the Drink"
Imaginary Worlds - Doctor Who's Power of Regeneration
The Atlas Obscura Podcast - Vent Haven Museum
Pop Culture Happy Hour - Ghostbusters: Frozen Empire
Short Wave - What's It Like To Live In Space? One Astronaut Says It Changes Her Dreams
WikiHole - Battle of the Bay (with Moshe Kasher, Guy Branum and Grace Kuhlenschmidt)
Worlds Beyond Number - WWW #5: Water, Water Everywhere
Worlds Beyond Number: Fireside - Fireside Chat for WWW ep5 "Water, Water Everywhere"
Pop Culture Happy Hour - Quiet On Set: The Dark Side Of Kids TV
The Atlas Obscura Podcast - Ganvie Lake Village
⭐ Death, Sex & Money - The Very Hot Marriage of Niecy Nash and Jessica Betts
Vibe Check - Welcome to the Chaos
Ologies with Alie Ward - Disgustology (REPULSION TO GROSS STUFF) with Paul Rozin
Code Switch - Who does language belong to? A fight over the Lakota Language
99% Invisible #575 - Autism Pleasantville
Wiser Than Me with Julia Louis-Dreyfus - Julia Gets Wise with Sally Field
Fansplaining - Episode 219: Tropefest Speedrun
The Atlas Obscura Podcast - A Journey Around the World with Sebastian Modak
Shedunnit - Bonus: Thoughts on Spoilers
I Said No Gifts! - Harvey Guillén Disobeys Bridger
Imaginary Worlds- Class of '84: Rise of The Villains
Worlds Beyond Number - WWW #6: Fresh Fish
Pop Culture Happy Hour - Godzilla x Kong, Godzilla Minus One And What's Making Us Happy
Dear Prudence - My Partner Sticks Her Finger in Food to Taste Test It. Help!
Endless Thread - Shaq Time: Is Shaq OK?
Smart Podcast, Trashy Books - 608. Women as Shields and Scapegoats: Talking Kate Middleton with Melissa Blue
Consider This from NPR - A new biopic on Shirley Chisolm fills in the picture on a woman who broke barriers
Worlds Beyond Number: Fireside - Fireside Chat for WWW ep6 "Fresh Fish"
You're Dead to Me - Mozart
I Said No Gifts! - "Weird Al" Yankovic Disobeys Bridger
🎶 MUSIC 🎶
Chappell Roan
Disco 2024
Presenting Rob Zombie
Metal Radio • Pump-up
COWBOY CARTER [Beyoncé] {2024}
#sunday reading recap#bookgeekgrrl's reading habits#bookgeekgrrl's soundtracks#fanfic ftw#dropout tv#d20#dimension 20#mice & murder#truly loving m&m so far#but i have been annoyed (slightly) & amused (mostly) by the fact that it's set in 1905#and yet has been referred to as both 'regency' and 'victorian'#i love these comedians but no one knows how time or history work#it's truly irrelevant tho bc they are telling such a fun story#rob zombie#chappell roan#beyoncé#death‚ sex & money podcast#99% invisible podcast#imaginary worlds podcast#worlds beyond number podcast#worlds beyond number: fireside podcast#vibe check podcast#code switch podcast#endless thread podcast#pop culture happy hour podcast#shedunnit podcast#wikihole podcast#you're dead to me podcast#the atlas obscura podcast#wiser than me podcast
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THE OTHER SIDE
I’m turning 24 and
I’ve barely tasted life
But why am I already tired?
Why do my shoulders feel heavy?
I'm in my twenties but already buried
6 feet under the ground
in the playground
with rust-colored merry-go-round spinning around,
riding made of rotten wood rocking horses
under the navy blue sky.
Am I even allowed to ask why?
My memory's getting blurry.
I bear in my head 16 y.o. me,
not a 23 y.o. young adult.
I miss a teenager me.
I miss her feeling stable and safe.
I miss her being naive and her voice never waver.
I miss her crystal-clearest mindset
set on chasing justice for everyone safely dive in.
I miss her ability to build hopes.
I miss her feeling at home
and not hopeless.
I’m jealous of a teenager me.
I’m no longer a teenager me.
I'm 23.
Wow.
I’m already 23.
And my memory failed me.
She betrayed me.
Why did she betray me?
How could she do this to me?
I would never know.
My therapist says it’s all so I could feel protected and safe in my own skin.
But can I even trust myself with my memories locked up in a plastic kin?
Forecasts wouldn't have been much of a helper too.
Forecast a crafted future event map?
Nope. I’d better take a good nap.
The thing is… I’m too stubborn to ask for help.
Never been much of a beggar.
The moment everything went sideways?
There isn’t a specific moment.
It’s not about one specific moment.
It’s about a twisted endless maze
and prolonged torment.
It’s about years I’ve spent blaming others
and consequences.
It’s about years I’ve spent blaming myself
thinking I was blaming others
and consequences.
At the end of the day
the one to blame
was me.
When it came – it didn’t come suddenly
like a thrown at you bucket of cold water to wake you up in the early morning,
all that “rise and shine-good morning” staff that makes you annoyed.
It’s been growing,
spent years trapped somewhere inside in the quietest corners.
Waiting.
It'd been creeping for years to make the starriest grandiose entrance,
to jump out
and shout aloud,
"Surprise!
You haven’t expected me
but here I am
at 4 am
getting at your head
in your bed.
You don’t know my name
but we share the same body and brain.
Nice to meet ya!
Sure you feel the same.”
It jumped out,
shouted aloud
and never left.
I don't remember much about what happened
but clearly remember how I felt.
I remember being confused and perplexed why everything felt so complex.
I remember being pathetically sad and eternally drained to get out of bed.
I remember a lump in my throat and my lungs stewed in a pot.
I remember spilling tearfalls while chewing my fist to suppress any noise spills.
I remember silence being loudly violent not letting me get enough sleep.
I remember feeling restless and lifeless and hopeless but smiling, nevertheless.
I remember white blurs in the middle of walking and eyes looked excessively mocking.
I remember shore being a slippery steep with a rift. I usually slipped and fell down.
I remember that I was mad.
I remember that I was so mad.
At the world.
At myself.
Mostly ‘cause I was sad.
Why was I sad?
I still don’t know.
My therapist says it’s alright. And, maybe, my therapist’s right
and this way my memory's trying to say, “You’re not at bay. You’re safe.”
There is no lump in my throat.
There is no voice in my head.
Silence is my friendliest pal.
There are no strips on the hands
and everything doesn’t seem very complex.
I can breathe freely
and don’t blame myself constantly.
I can be sad and upset
but also grateful and very content.
I can be mad.
I am mad.
Or I am not.
You know how life is –
sometimes it comes,
sometimes it goes.
Thankfully
doesn’t stay anymore.
I have three times a day routine.
And I’m getting used to it still.
And I’m not feeling safe still.
I’m terrified of slipping from a steep still.
I’m afraid of falling down in a rift still.
I’m cautious and take precautions still.
Yet I am here and I am still alive.
My therapist says it’s a damn good sign.
.
I was 23 when I wrote it. Sad, confused, lost, bad at expressing and understanding myself who was looking for the right way to follow.
I'm turning 25 when I present it. I can be sad and happy and angry and feel confused, but now it's all about emotions and feelings that are exactly what they are... emotions and feelings. I know them, I remember them, I'm no longer hiding from them, I let them be. I quitted looking for the right way, because I have my way. Very uncharted. I love it.
#poets on tumblr#poetry#bipolar#bipolar disorder#bipolar depression#mood swings#happiness is overrated#bymel
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