#Five Fascinating Facts About…

[thatsbelievable]

[amelikos]

Gibeon, huh.

[skydigiblogs]

been continuing our xros wars rewatch since we feel like garbage and i gotta say, going from part 1 to part 2 is always hella jarring. like, the timeskip i think is supposed to be 2 years for the digital world?

i need to go back and rewatch the episodes because i was having a lot of trouble focusing last night, since i'm not exactly sure if it's meant to be 2 years.

anyways, it's jarring if only because while i think nene and kiriha are mostly as expected (nene is a bit weirder and more peppy than i was expecting ngl), everyone else just... isn't?

like, dorbickmon has all of xros heart conveniently, and waited this long to execute them? xros heart hasn't busted themselves out? they weren't scattered across kingdoms? really?

also, blastmon is still a head. that's just. odd to me. okay.

i will also note, it never feels great that they just leave akari and zenjirou in the human world. it's nice that they get linked to the two crests that omegamon represents (akari for courage, zenjirou for friendship), but it also feels... bad.

the xros wars manga really might've spoiled me for a rewatch of the anime, all in all, but they're also ultimately two very different stories.

[stanwixbuster]

so today i was watching xiaoma videos (yeah i know hes a prat but i like massage videos and he moans like hes in a gay porn) but there was one video that really stood out to me

first off the people in the comments who are stunned by the concept that chinese people are just normal people who sit around and chat which is very funny, but what gets me is how casually this one guy brings up international politics, and how certain he is that trump will win. this was posted two months before the election. he doesn't even know kamalas name. he just knows her as "the vice president" and it takes him a second to even remember that

then his opinion of trump obviously isn't high, but "at least he didn't start any wars". his only opinion of biden is how much he absolutely shagged the middle east and palestine and keeps fumbling russia. fascinating shit

[astronomalyy]

Thinking about the lifespans of Dungeon Meshi elves... The fact that they're completely unnatural alters my brain chemistry, because you can tell just how haphazardly the demon implemented their wish. They live five times the length of tall-men, so they age at a fifth of their rate. It's simple maths and the implications are terrifying. No wonder their birth rate and population are declining - their early development is so slow that at the age of two, they're still unable to stand.

They don't reach adulthood until their eighties. What does the infant mortality look like? How many elves succumb to illness or injury before they're fully mature? It only takes one accident to lose the child you've been raising for decades - and could you bring yourself to care for another? Add to that the implication elf culture has no idea how to process grief... just look at the way the Canaries treat Rin after the death of her parents. They're callous and insensitive and detached - part of that's racism, but there's also an element of pure cold ignorance. They don't even recognise the emotion on her face.

And that's just scratching the surface... does elven memory accommodate their extended lifespan? Once you reach two hundred or so, do the years start blurring together? Kabru mentions that their temporal awareness is remarkably poor.

Two years feel like a few months. Their lives are longer but not fuller. They're older but not wiser than the short-lived races, and most refuse to understand this. Those that do grasp it are interesting - namely Otta, who's ostracised for pursuing half-foot women.

A 30-year old elf is a young child; a 30-year old half-foot has entered middle age. Otta is in the equivalent of her late twenties. She knows that her elven lifespan makes her no more mature than a half-foot - but she also acknowledges that it creates a rift between herself and her partners, and not just in the eyes of society. 'She dumps them as soon as they pass 30', but probably not for the reasons Lycion assumes. For this to be a pattern, decades must have passed - it's possible Otta doesn't want to watch them die as she herself barely ages. No doubt some of her previous lovers have already passed away. In the end, all living 400 years accomplishes is leaving them out of sync with the rest of humanity.

Marcille's perhaps the best example. As a half-elf, she's got 95% of her life ahead and the thought terrifies her. She's going to lose everyone she loves, over and over and over again, and this cycle has barely even started. She runs at a different pace. This context adds so much to her dynamic with Falin in earlier chapters.

Marcille loves her! She's scared for her! Maybe even of her! She's grown attached to a short-lived girl who she met as a kid when Marcille was a teaching assistant! Biologically and developmentally, they're the same age, but chronologically she's twice as old as Falin! Considering what happened to her mother, is history repeating itself? Her feelings towards Falin are tangled and messy and fascinating. They're also more than a little homoerotic, which makes Marcille's infantilization of her friend all the more interesting. It feels like her way of resolving their power imbalance, of remaining a responsible (former!) authority figure... but it's also a coping mechanism. She's frightened by the ways Falin is maturing and changing - aging - and keeping her mental image of her friend as young as possible is her way of denying the march of time that's destined to sever their bond.

Marcille's dream of lifespan extension would remove the need for this obfuscation, render them equal... only, they already are! This desire is imposed onto Falin, but it's primarily for Marcille's benefit. Watching her fight for a world nobody wants, for reasons both selfish and altruistic... it's as tragic as it is understandable. I love this manga.

[earthtooz]

x : LUST FOR LIFE *+ﾟ

in which: sunday discovers a new emotion when he's under you.

warnings: 1.5k words, sunday is B(h)ORNY and doesn't know how to deal with it, he wants reader so bad, lowkey implied switch!sunday, gn!reader being sunday's freak awakening, NO SMUT BUT UNDER 16 DNI, not edited

a/n: five likes and i'll write nsfw for sunday

What good is a leader who can’t empathise with the lives of the people he was supposed to be leading?

This thought has plagued Sunday ever since he exiled himself from Penacony, since he joined the Astral Express in a journey of self-discovery and reflection, embracing the Nameless lifestyle so he can broaden the horizons that Penacony had restricted. There, he was so detached from the reality of the people he was trying to help, so trapped in a whirlwind of his own ideals to experience humanity, too buried in official duties to rejoice in the many wonders of the universe, the simple pleasures and the grandiose ones.

Since boarding, the former head of the Oak Family has experienced humiliation, desperation, and many close calls with death. It seems he underestimated how easily trouble found the Trailblazers, and the diary he carries with him has been updated with multiple entries, filled with exasperated recounts that ended with him being grateful that he is still well and unscathed.

Sunday has also experienced laughter, connection, and the bond of humankind- something he did not have before. When he controlled the Oak Family, had everyone under or at his fingertips, the only person he could depend on was himself. When Robin left to travel the cosmos, what was he to do than learn the bitter truth of independence and self-sufficiency? 

Yet, he sits on the couches of the Astral Express and there is bound to be another by him, trying to converse with him like an old friend. He is mentioned in the conversations like an individual who they keep around because they want to, not because he is crafty, not because of what he can offer. No, he can’t offer anything right now, and the crew still wants him to stay.

He learns more about humanity with each passing day.

However, perhaps one of the more puzzling feelings Sunday has had to confront was… infatuation. 

It’s a tricky feeling. It sends his heart into overdrive and his limbs to become jelly, and at the epicentre of this hurricane of uncharted territory, is you. 

“Sunday?” Your voice comes through muffled from the other side of the door. He almost jumps off his mattress at the sound. 

“Door is open,” he responds as calmly as possible, heart thrumming alive at the sound of your voice, beating in time with the rapid succession of your knocks. 

The door slides open slowly to reveal you on the other side. “Pom Pom just wanted to let everyone know that we will be jumping soon.” 

“I see, thank you for letting me know.”

“No problem,” your gaze then flickers to the angels that flock around him and he watches as your eyes gleam with fascination.

Then, without any hesitation or reluctance, you enter his room and approach him, the door sliding closed without your weight to hold it open. You stop before him without a bow, without a formal greeting of ‘Mr. Sunday’- no, you stop before him like an equal, which you most certainly are. In fact, he would even think of himself below you, but Sunday needs to unlearn this assumption of hierarchy, needs to not let it define the relationships he forms, even if he looks up to you and finds you reverent. 

“Hey, I’ve never seen these little guys before!” You exclaim, sticking out a hand to act like a perch for the angel-like summons. One of them flits up to you and stays on your outstretched finger. “Well, not this close, at least.”

It keens at your praise. Like owner like summon, Sunday supposes.

“I don’t tend to bring them out. They are for combat purposes,” he explains. 

Your eyes widen slightly. “Are you trying to pick a fight with me right now?” 

“What? No! That’s not it-”

“-I’m kidding, Sunday,” you snicker. “We’re friends, I wouldn’t want to fight you.”

“Right,” he exhales, “I wouldn’t want to fight you either.”

“Besides, we already did once.”

He freezes at the memory, remembers when he got hit with the exact train he is currently boarding. 

You, however, are unphased by the recollection, and even continue to rub salt in the wound. “I remember fighting against these little summons too, your owner was a real meanie, do you guys know that?” 

They flock around you, spinning and fluttering like little fireflies.  Instinctively, Sunday covers his flustered expression with his wings, and he doesn’t budge, even when he hears your laugh, the sound almost enough for him to melt into a puddle by your feet.

“Hey, hey, I was kidding, sorry if I took the joke too far.” 

He uncovers himself with an embarrassed sigh, not meeting your eyes. “It’s okay, I think the memory is just… humiliating, more than anything.”

“There are no more hard feelings. Everyone has accepted you on board and none of us think of you to be the same person you were when we first met, I promise.”

Your words are completely earnest, Sunday knows it, can feel it in the way you tell him so unabashedly. So who is he to deny it?

“Thank you,” he says, finally looking up at you, “it means a lot to hear that.” 

“I’ll say it as much as you need. Well, I’ll get out of your hair now, just prepare for the jump-”

Your sentence is interrupted by a shriek when you lose your footing, and Sunday feels it too, the force so strong that even he, while sitting, feels as if is being stretched and pulled into a miniscule hole. What he also feels is your body colliding on top of his, and his hands come to your waist to catch you in an attempt to prevent you from slipping, but it’s not enough and he’s falling with you onto the expanse of his made bed.

The Express is warping to some expanse of the universe, and his stomach drops at the sensation, spreading to the ends of his nerves before disappearing, just replaced by the extremely odd feeling of being pulled through the stars. He just hopes you’re comfortable, standing up whilst warping is tough, he heard the stories of when Stelle first tried to do it and how she fell flat on her face. 

When the feeling of normality returns and Sunday doesn’t feel like he has been stretched out, he opens his eyes and tries to take in the sight before him.

You. Your face. Centimetres away from his.

He’s always thought you were pretty, but seeing you this close… perhaps just pretty is an understatement. His gaze unwillingly flicks to your lips and he wished he hadn’t because suddenly the urge to sit up and lick into your mouth is raging; a fire that can’t be contained. 

Sunday wants you to push him down by the shoulders, with no gentleness or mercy, and just… devour him whole. His hands want to find you by the hips and pull you into him more than humanly possible, he wants you to indent yourself onto him so he can remember your taste forever, so that, in a way, you couldn’t ever leave him. 

Alternatively, he would happily flip around and pin you against the mattress. He would pry you open, explore the cavern of your mouth with his tongue and suck your sacred essence out of you so that it can stay and settle in his bones instead, replacing where marrow should be. He wants to lay you vulnerable so his hands can explore places only you want him to touch, wants to take you so that you stay forever, wants to feel your tongue against his, wants to hold your face and feel how you react when he takes his time cherishing you, revering you. 

This feeling is too much, these thoughts are overpowering, yet nothing has ever been more clear. Sunday wants you, lusts for you, even, and he’s never felt so intensely for someone before. 

How would the symphonies sound when they learn of the atrocities he wants to perform? 

Temptation holds him close and infects him with a desire so strong, he’s practically frozen in place as you recover from the shock, holding yourself up with your arms that were on either side of his head. 

“Ow, I’m sorry!” You immediately exclaim, before realising exactly what position you are in, your chests are pressed together, and you’re mortified to think about how close you were before you picked yourself off him, and- his… his hips… are pressed against yours- okay, you needed to leave as soon as possible.

You scramble off him like he had burnt you, frantically shouting apologies whilst doing so, the words clumsy and rushed, but neither of you can deny how you miss the warmth that was suddenly ripped away. 

(If he wanted to, you could have stayed in that position with him.)

Then, before you could get anymore thoughts, you turn and practically bolt out of his room without another word, leaving a hot and bothered Sunday behind.

© EARTHTOOZ 2024, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.

[thesandyhooktragedy]

the lengths that ethan blair miller went to in order to mimic eric harris and dylan klebold, especially as he was someone who eventually decided on not committing a school shooting, definitely fascinate me.

during his attack on a safeway in bend, oregon, he wore a shirt that said ‘HURT’ across the chest, which is most visible in the photo above. miller also displays many behaviors that other columbine copycats exhibit, such as dressing in a way similar to harris and klebold (black pants, black boots, t-shirt with word art). though, this specific outfit—with the red text against a black shirt—is much more reminiscent of klebold’s ‘WRATH’ shirt that he wore during the attack on columbine.

miller seemed to have more of an interest in klebold than he did in harris, in general. miller’s wattpad username was wrathofman22, most likely referencing the shirt that klebold sported on the day he attacked columbine. and it’s not like miller’s admiration of the columbine shooters was any secret, either; he cited them as a main source of inspiration for his attack. he had even originally planned to shoot up his past high school, in order to pay homage to columbine.

i’m assuming the reason many people don’t discuss ethan blair miller are because he kind of got lost in the mix of copycat crimes committed by columbine fanboys, and the body count of miller’s attack wasn’t more than five. either way, his case is very interesting (the fact that he published his manifesto on wattpad is definitely… something?) and i wish primary sources about it were more accessible!

[thatsbelievable]

[gf2bellamy]

Hi!

I’m so glad that you’re having fun at college! ⸜(*ˊᗜˋ*)⸝

So I’m obsessed with Spencer’s adorable girlfriend because I love the idea of him having a cute pretty girl to dote on (and cute pretty girls are totally my type and my aesthetic) and you write her so well ♡

But I was wondering if you could please write about the bau meeting Spencer’s model-worthy hot gf who’s a complete smoke show that looks like she’s been blessed by Aphrodite? And Derek and Emily are like just completely gobsmacked like 😳 😳

(I was watching the Legally Blonde Musical earlier on YouTube and Elle x Emmett give me such Spencer x beautiful rich sweetheart!girlfriend - especially during Take It Like A Man - and my mind got away for a while (⁄ ⁄>⁄ ▽ ⁄<⁄ ⁄))

unexpected — spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader ( no use of y/n ) content warnings: just derek and emily teasing them a/n: thank you so much !!! <333 i hope this is what you asked for :)

The last thing Derek Morgan expected when he decided to grab dinner with Emily Prentiss after wrapping up a case was to stumble upon Spencer Reid on what could only be described as a date.

A date with you.

And you? You looked like you belonged on a magazine cover. Maybe several.

Derek actually stopped mid-step, hand automatically reaching for Emily’s arm as they both stared. There was Spencer—awkward, brilliant, sometimes painfully oblivious Spencer—sitting across from you, a woman so effortlessly stunning it was like the universe had copy-pasted you out of a dream and dropped you into reality.

“Okay,” Emily muttered, eyes narrowed in disbelief. “I need someone to explain what I’m looking at because there is no way this is happening in real life.”

Spencer was in the middle of an animated explanation about something—probably statistics or obscure historical facts—while you leaned forward with an easy smile, genuinely engaged, as if he were telling you the most fascinating thing in the world.

Emily let out a breath that sounded vaguely like a laugh. “I mean, I know Reid has his charm, but come on.”

Derek shook his head, crossing his arms. “I’ve seen this kid trip over air. The same guy who almost passed out that one time a waitress flirted with him.” He gestured toward you, then back at Spencer.

Spencer, ever the gentleman, had picked a place that wasn’t too fancy but still nice enough to make it feel special. You had just fixed his tie when you caught him fidgeting with his silverware, his eyes darting anxiously toward the entrance.

“Spence?” You raised a brow, sipping your drink.

He cleared his throat, his fingers tightening around the edge of the table. “Uh… don’t turn around.”

Naturally, you did the exact opposite.

Near the entrance stood two people who were, at that moment, completely frozen. Emily Prentiss and Derek Morgan. And the looks on their faces were priceless.

Emily’s eyebrows had shot up so high they might have disappeared into her bangs. Derek looked like someone had just slapped him across the face.

Both of them were staring—no, gawking—at you. Five seconds later they were standing next to your table.

Slowly, they turned their incredulous gazes toward Spencer, who was now hunched over, looking like he was desperately wishing for the ground to swallow him whole.

“Oh my God,” Emily mouthed.

Derek let out a low whistle. “Pretty Boy,” he said, voice laced with sheer disbelief, “you’ve been holding out on us.”

Spencer groaned, his hand coming up to rub his temple. “This is… um, not how I wanted you to find out.”

You smiled, thoroughly amused, and extended a hand toward them. “Hi. It’s nice to finally meet you.”

Emily blinked, then shook your hand automatically. “Yeah. Hi. Wow.” She turned to Spencer, still trying to process. “You—this—what—how?”

Derek leaned forward, bracing his hands on the back of a nearby chair. “No offense, genius, but I thought you spent all your free time reading quantum physics and watching old movies.” His eyes flicked to you again. “Where did you even find her?”

Spencer, still bright red, muttered, “It’s not that unbelievable.”

Emily and Derek exchanged a look.

“…No, it kinda is,” Emily said, deadpan.

You laughed softly, reaching over to squeeze Spencer’s hand. “He’s actually very charming,” you said, shooting him a teasing smile.

Emily smirked. “This is too good. I mean, come on.” She gestured vaguely in your direction, as if words failed her. “How did this even happen?”

You grinned. “He asked me out,” you said, your tone matter-of-fact. “Very politely, I might add. And here we are.”

Derek let out a low whistle, shaking his head. “Pretty boy’s got game,” he said, his tone equal parts teasing and impressed. “Who knew?”

Spencer sighed, running a hand through his already messy hair. “Can we please change the subject?” he asked, his voice pleading. “Or, better yet, can you two just… go back to your table and pretend you never saw us?”

Emily chuckled, clearly enjoying his discomfort. “Not a chance,” she said. “This is the most interesting thing that’s happened all week. I’m not letting it go that easily.”

Spencer groaned again, his face now a deep shade of red. “Please stop talking,” he muttered, though there was no real annoyance in his voice.

Derek laughed, clapping Spencer on the shoulder. “Alright, Reid,” he said.“I’ll give you this one. You’ve definitely outdone yourself.”

Emily smirked, giving Spencer a knowing look. “Just don’t think this means we’re going to go easy on you,” she said, her tone playful. “You’re still Spencer Reid. And we’re still your friends. Which means we’re legally obligated to tease you about this forever.”

Spencer sighed, but he couldn’t hide the small smile tugging at his lips. “Great,” he said, his tone dry. “Just what I needed.”

Derek opened his mouth to say something, but Emily cut him off with a sharp elbow to the ribs. “Let’s give them some space. For now.”

Derek groaned, but he didn’t argue. “Fine,” he said, his tone mock-resigned. “But this conversation isn’t over, pretty boy. You owe us details.”

As Emily and Derek finally walked away, their laughter echoing through the restaurant, you turned back to Spencer, a soft smile on your lips. “Well,” you said, your tone teasing, “that could have gone worse.”

Spencer groaned, running a hand through his hair. “Worse?” he repeated, his voice incredulous. “I don't want to go back to work ever again.”

You laughed, leaning in closer to him. “Hey, look on the bright side,” you said, your voice soft. “At least they like me.”

Spencer looked at you, his expression softening. “They’d be idiots not to,” he said, his voice warm.

You smiled, your heart swelling at his words. “And you’re pretty great yourself,” you said. “Even if your friends are a little… intense.”

Spencer chuckled, his hand tightening around yours. “Yeah, well, they’re your friends now too,” he said. “Welcome to the BAU.”

[y3sterdaysproblem]

𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙥𝙖𝙣𝙮 - 𝙛𝙬𝙗!𝙘𝙝𝙧𝙞𝙨

cw: mentions of smoking, smut

wc: 2.5k

“you want food first?” chris asks, turning his head to look at you where you sat in his passenger seat for a moment before returning his eyes to the road.

“before I ride you?” you question, your own head popping up from looking at your phone to stare at his side profile, eyes trailing over his seemingly flawless jawline, the pout of his lips, his nose that fit his face perfectly. “fuck no, I wanna smoke, park, fuck, then you buy me food once we get snacky.”

chris let out a laugh, straight line of teeth visible from behind his lips. “okay,” he agreed with a small nod, pointing to his glove compartment. “brought you something.”

you tilt your head curiously, turning your attention to his glovebox, hand reaching out to open it. once it drops open, you let out a small gasp and grab the thin, long box wrapped with a little red bow. “what is this?” you say excitedly, pulling it into your lap, quickly pulling the bow undone.

chris peeks over at you one more time, a smile still present on his face. “just open it, dumbass.”

you listen, popping the lid off the box and gasping again, letting out a small squeal when you see what’s inside. “a new cart?!” you ask, looking back up at him to see him already watching, car stopped at a red light.

“yeah, it’s a hybrid, too,” he informs you, nodding his head towards it. “figured we could smoke that tonight.”

you grin and reach forward to pinch his cheek, shaking it aggressively to which he groaned and pushed your hand away from him. “you know me so well,” you beam, bringing your attention back to the cart, pulling it out of the box and clicking the little square button five times, watching as the little light turns on to indicate it’s ready.

“I know,” chris shrugs, starting to drive again. he’s headed towards a spot you guys have parked at a couple times, a secluded area tucked into a forest preserve that nobody really showed up at anymore, ignoring the fact that it was closed past sunset.

it doesn’t take long for you guys to get there, but despite the little time between opening the new cart and getting to your spot, you both have hit it enough times to start feeling the effects, your eyes getting heavy and body feeling lighter. “chris,” you say through a small giggle as you guys are parking, turning your body to face him in your seat.

“yeah?” he responds, throwing the car into park and pulling off his seatbelt, turning to look at you as well. your grin only widened as his attention fell on you, feeling nothing but confident under his gaze. “you are so hot,” you tell him, eyes wandering over his all black outfit, soaking in his appearance.

“y’think so?” chris says with a smirk, leaning back in his chair, his hand coming down to the side of it to mess with the buttons, starting to move himself backwards, farther away from the steering wheel. “wanna show me how hot you think I am?”

you nod slightly, pulling your own seatbelt off and climbing over to sit atop his thighs, resting comfortably in his lap as your hands came up to thread through his hair. “you’re already hard,” you mumble, eyes scanning over his face as he stared up at you through hooded, lust fill eyes. “yeah, because I can’t stop thinking about you on top of me,” chris responds, his hands landing on your thighs where they pushed your dress up slightly. “a sun dress is kind of a crazy choice.”

you laugh and nod slightly in agreement, moving your hips on top of his slightly. “I know, it’s a little cold but I wanted you to have easy access.” you reach down to prove your point, pulling the dress up over your stomach to reveal your lack of underwear, hearing chris’s breath catch in his throat.

“fuck, you’ve been in my car with no underwear all this time?” he asks, instantly bringing his hand between your legs and dragging his middle fingers between your folds, fascinated by the sight in front of him. “would’ve had you touching yourself this whole time if I knew.”

you laugh softly and grab his jaw to tilt his head up, meeting his eyes again. “i’m already gonna do all the work right now, wanted to save my energy,” you say teasingly, leaning down to close the distance between you two, pressing your lips firmly against chris’s. he immediately returned the kiss, his fingertips pressing into the skin of your thighs where they rested, other hand still touching you where you needed him the most, spreading your folds apart and pressing into your clit, eliciting a small whine that slipped through your nostrils.

both of your lips part and your tongues meet in the middle, dancing together as he pressed his fingers inside of you, letting out his own groan as he felt how wet you were. “what’s got you all wet for me, hm?” chris asks lowly, pulling away from your lips for a moment. you’re annoyed at the lack of content, but that feeling is quickly washed away when his fingers curl inside of you, pulling out another small noise from your mouth. “you,” you respond breathily, hips grinding down on chris’s hand slowly. “thinking about you.”

chris smiles lazily up at you, keeping his eyes focused on your face that was slightly above his. “me?” he implores, raising an eyebrow. “what about me?”

he’s starting to slowly fuck you with his fingers, making you more and more breathless by the seconds passing, eyelids threatening to flutter shut. “this. you inside me in any way. told you, just looking at you gets me so horny.” you’re whining now, desperate for more friction, practically riding his fingers as they pressed up against your walls. you let go of your dress and reach down to grab the waistband of his sweatpants, tugging to let him know what you want, and he quickly obliged and raises his hips for you to pull them down just to his thighs, along with his briefs, revealing his hard cock, desperate for its own attention. “can I?” you ask him, ripping your gaze from his lap to his eyes, seeing how glazed over they were.

he nods, pulling his fingers from inside you and instead rubbing circles on your clit as you moved your knees slightly to position yourself above him, slowly sinking down on him. “shit,” you gasp, feeling blissed out from him inside you and stimulating you with his fingers. “you fill me up so good.”

“yeah?” chris hums, pulling his hand away and using both to push up your dress again, bunching it over your hips for a clear view of how well you were taking him. “tell me more.”

you laugh, shaking your head at his attempt to get you to feed into his ego. “you’re so conceited,” you comment, leaning forward to press your lips together again, this time in a slower, drawn out kiss, tongues moving together as if you have all the time in the world. his hand comes up to cup your jaw and hold you close, his touch sending a shiver down your spine as you feel the wetness of his fingers on your skin, loving the way he couldn’t keep his hands off of you.

your hips still moved up and down, slow and sensual like you had promised him in the texts, soft r&b floating through his speakers in the background, only intensifying the mood in the car. it was hard to admit to yourself, and you’d never say it out loud, but sometimes being with chris felt like the world around you both had disappeared and you were the only two in existence, using each other’s bodies for your own pleasure. tonight felt no different, the way he held onto your face to keep you close, his other hand rubbing from your waist to your hip as you moved on top of him, his touch saying everything he couldn’t with his mouth pressed against yours.

you pull away from him slightly, both of your hands resting on either side of his neck, foreheads pressed together as your breath mingles between your faces, the pace of your hips slowing slightly as you look down at chris’s expression, a small smile lighting up your face. “you look good like this,” you whisper, catching his attention. “like what?” he asks in the same volume, using his hand that’s already on your face to push some hair behind your ear before resting back on your jaw again. “like this,” you say, nodding slightly. “relaxed, sitting back and letting me do all the work. holding me and making me feel all wanted and shit.”

chris lets out a small, quiet laugh and rolls his eyes, sliding his left hand around to squeeze your ass roughly. “shut up and keep doing what you’re best at, yeah? y’talk too much.”

you scoff and return the eye roll, but you pick up your hips nonetheless, rocking against him again. you switch your position slightly and lean back against the steering wheel, careful to not lean on the horn, placing one hand on the door and the other on his knee, head falling back slightly at the change in angle, giving chris a perfect view of your chest up to your throat. he’s unable to resist the temptation, his hands reaching up to pull the top of your dress down, exposing your tits to him, nipples hard from arousal. “fuuuck,” he groans at the sight, taking in your whole figure; your thighs straining on either side of him, his cock sliding in and out of you as you bounced on top of him, stomach tensing as your hips moved, tits bouncing perfectly with the action. “this is what you were made for, hm? made to take me whenever I want you. god, I wish you could see yourself.” he’s running his hands all over your body as he speaks, finally landing on your waist to help you with your movements, sensing your legs tiring out.

you pull your head back up and look down your body, watching as he disappears inside of you over and over, feeling overwhelmed at the sight. “you fill me up so well, chris, gonna make me cum,” you whine, pushing yourself back up so your chests are almost pressed together again, grabbing onto his shoulders tightly as your pace picked up, feeling your orgasm approaching. he trails his fingers back down to touch you again, pulling a string of whimpers from your lips as he helped you, the sounds of both of your moans filling the car.

“that’s it,” he praises, still circling around your clit as your body shakes, fingers digging into his skin roughly as your orgasm crashes down on you, eyes clenched shut tight. you tuck your face into his neck as you slow down, hips twitching as chris’s fingers coax you through the end of it.

“my god,” you sigh into his skin, chest heaving as you try to catch your breath. your senses are overwhelmed with his cologne, a scent you’ve grown too familiar with over the past who knows how long, one that makes your heart leap when it floods your nose.

you take a few moments to relax, breathing leveling out into his neck, before you start to move again, pulling almost all the way off of him before dropping down again. he groans at the feeling, letting his eyes flutter shut and his head fall back against the headrest, focusing his mind on the way you felt around him. “you fill me up so well,” you whisper into his skin, starting to place small kisses along it, feeling goosebumps arising under your lips at the touch. “so big inside me, stretching me out so nice.” you’re feeding into his size kink to bring him closer, smiling against him as you hear a small whine leave his lips, his hands digging into your hips roughly.

“that’s it, just focus on how good i’m making you feel,” you hum, teeth nipping at his skin. leaving marks was something you both were typically against, as you were each sleeping with different people, but you always knew when he’d let you do it, and it was when he was so close, teetering on the edge of completion when he would fully surrender his body to you, let you do whatever you wanted as he creeped closer and closer. you suckled on his skin softly, but hard enough to leave a red-purple bruise on his pale skin, smiling when you pulled away and laid your eyes on it. “gonna cum for me, chris?” you ask, sitting straight up and picking up your pace, dropping your hips back onto his roughly.

“mmhmmm,” chris nods his head, keeping his eyes shut as his mouth slowly opened, teeth clenching together and sucking air through them as his eyebrows furrowed, letting you know he was close.

“cum inside me, please, chris, I need it so bad,” you whine, turning up the dramatics for his own pride, hands resting on his chest for leverage as you rode him, letting small moans and whimpers leave your mouth.

“fuck, i’m-, oh my god,” chris stutters, fingers gripping into your skin with a bruising pressure, his back pushing off the seat slightly as he groaned loudly, dick twitching inside you as he came, small whimpers slipping out with each breath, his head coming forward to rest on your bare chest. “jesus christ,” he croaks out, wrapping his arms around your waist lazily to hold you close.

you smile and press your face into his hair, hands trailing around to his back. “dunno bout you but that sounded like whimpers to me,” you say quietly, a teasing lilt in your voice.

chris groans and lands a playful, although harsh, slap on your ass, making you gasp loudly. “I do not whimper,” he mumbles into the skin on your chest, lips pressing against your cleavage, moving them to the side slightly to nip at the skin of your breast.

“ouch,” you grab him by the hair and pull him away, making him tilt his head back and look up at you, revealing his fucked out smile that spread from ear to ear. “fuck, you’re hot,” you comment, leaning down to press your lips against his roughly, groaning when his hand came up to your throat to hold you in place.

you’re kissing for a few minutes, basking in the post sex relaxation in each other’s company, chris still nestled inside you as his free hand ran over your body. he pulls his face away and uses his grip on you to push you away from him slightly, smirking at your dazed expression. “get off of me before I charge up again. i’m hungry.” he tells you, letting go of your throat, making you pout.

“I got something you can eat,” you say, moving your hips slightly.

“shut the fuck up,” chris laughs, pushing you off of him with faux aggression, unable to stop himself from admiring the way your giggles filled the space.

a/n: hey

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[starlightxsvt]

VERDICT | sibilance. FINAL

synopsis ➳ you have found your way back to each other but that doesn't mean it is smooth sailing from now on. wonwoo's father is still trying to get him married and you have a decision to make. pairing ➳ rich badboy!wonwoo x lawyer fem!reader genre ➳ fluff, romance, smut. word count ➳ 13k warnings ➳ cursing, some mentions of food and eating, jealousy, reader is insecure at some point, jeonghan being a brat, a smidge of drama, brief angst in the sense of longing and regret, fingering, unprotected sex, edging, female oral, multiple orgasms, big dic wonu, creampie, soft sex.

previous chapter | series masterlist

The soft clutter of utensils and cupboards being opened and closed occupies the otherwise silent atmosphere inside Wonwoo’s house. You sit in the living room and watch with slight amusement as he moves about rather clumsily. You never thought making a cup of tea could be such a challenging task but as you watch Wonwoo scramble in the kitchen, you almost start to believe he is preparing a three course meal in there.

Gingerly, the man turns his head back, as if to check whether you are looking at him and once he sees that you are, in fact, he whips his head around and observes the boiling kettle with acute fascination. 

You suppress a smile and take a sip of water from the tall mug he gave you five minutes ago. 

His place is neat and tidy, taking you by surprise because the last time you were here, it was easy to think that a racoon broke in and rummaged through everything. 

The pillows on the couch and the centrepiece on the coffee table are neatly placed. The cream coloured carpet is straight and clean, looking freshly vacuumed and spotless. There are even a bunch of new books sitting on his bookshelf which you remember was previously almost empty and dusty, full of random nicknacks. Most astonishingly, you spot plants throughout his space, whether fake or real you are not sure but the green adds a tasteful pop of colour to the house. 

“Here you go.” Wonwoo murmurs, setting down your steaming cup of tea on a coaster. 

Then he awkwardly stands next to you, wringing his hands and watching you with nervous, careful eyes. You pick up the cup and the steam immediately fogs your glasses, helping you establish that the tea is still too hot to drink.

You set it down. “Have a seat.” You point to the velvet, cushiony chair opposite to you and he obliges immediately. He sits down and starts wiping his head with the damp towel around his neck, rubbing a single spot repeatedly as his eyes remain downcast, fixed on the floor. His acting reminds you of the naughty boys in your school when they were summoned in front of the principal and you find it quite amusing.

“Thank you for the dinner.” You start, deeming the topic a good conversation starter. “Mr. Pi told us that it was your treat. You really didn’t have to but thank you.”

“Oh.” He finally meets your eyes, his movement jittery. “No, it was really nothing. You guys worked hard. You deserved it.”

You smile. “Everyone had a great time. Jeonghan ordered a lot of food. He was out to drain your card. He even took some side dishes home.”

You don’t miss the way his face falls immediately at the mention of Jeonghan. “I see,” he supplies and goes back to staring at the ground.

A silence settles between the two of you. You watch him sit and fiddle with the towel, one of his legs bouncing up and down nervously.

“You are starting next week, right?” You ask, hoping to bring some life back in him.

His head jerks up. “Huh? Yeah. Next week.”

“I heard you are not using your father’s office.”

“No. I never liked that place. It comes with too many memories I wish to forget.” He explains quietly. 

“It’s always good to start fresh. So you’re leaving that empty for now?”

He nods.

Another beat of silence.

You reach for your tea and take a slow sip.

This is getting a bit too awkward. You have never seen Wonwoo like this; so out of place, so nervous and spooked. He is acting like he murdered your dog and you are about to punish him for that. Maybe, you should just cut to the chase. It is clear he won’t say anything, so you might as well speak your part and clear things out.

“So,” you begin, setting the cup down. “The reason why I’m here—”

“I didn’t think you would make your decision so quickly,” Wonwoo interrupts, his voice coated with a nervous edge. He looks at you, his pupils slightly dilated and his face paler than usual. “I mean…you are free to do however you want to…I just…I just thought I might have a c-chance this time, you know?” He swallows and licks his lips, his eyes bouncing around the room nervously. 

“I know how awful I was to you and still…I don’t know, I was clinging onto the hope that you would take me back even out of pity. I…imagined this moment hundreds of times. I…I thought you would tell me to go fuck myself over a text but it’s nice of you to come see me and break it to my face. I’m just…I’m just not ready I guess…” He trails off, his nervous rant coming to an end.

“You did not even hear what I have to say.” You raise an amused brow at him.

“Right.” He drops the towel on the floor and rubs his palms over his thighs. “Give it to me.”

You pause, carefully watching him before uttering. “Let’s start again, Wonwoo. One last time.”

Wonwoo blinks and then remains unmoving in his place, so still that one can easily mistake him for a statue. You wait and watch him, eager and amused for his next words.

You see his throat bob as he swallows and finally breaks off eye contact with you.

“You…you really mean it?” His voice comes out thick and scratchy almost like he is on the verge of tears. 

“Yes, I do.”

A sudden burst of laughter escapes his lips, the sound short and abrupt before he rests his elbows on his thighs and hangs his head low, staring at the ground in pure awe. “I…” He shakes his head. “Thank you.” His eyes meet yours, bright and shining with unshed tears. “Fuck…thank you. I promise to treat you right this time.”

You offer him a reassuring smile. He returns it, a bit wobbly at first before it grows, puffing up his cheeks and making his eyes form crescents. 

“Let’s take it slow this time.” You state, taking a sip of your tea. “Let’s get to know each other all over again. Slowly but steadily.”

He sits up straight and shakes his head with a determined nod. “Yes, of course. You call the shots this time. We will go at your pace.” He stops, watching you with a fond gaze. As an afterthought, he softly adds, “I am really very sorry about my behaviour so far. I have been foolish and immature about everything in my life. Now that I know how much you mean to me…how much all of this means to me…I will not let you down this time. I will not fuck this up.”

“I believe you won’t.” You reassure with a smile.

You finish your tea in a comfortable silence.

Soon after, Wonwoo drives you home. His car zooms down the empty streets of the city as you two sit next to each other, silent but comfortable. Soft tunes from the radio fill the car while you admire the view out your window, finding this boring, familiar city suddenly wondrous and full of colour. 

You feel like yourself after a long while, nothing weighing heavily on your chest and you can breathe freely. You glance at Wonwoo beside you and he does the same and when your eyes meet, the two of you break into a smile. 

—

The first week of your vacation goes by slowly but cozily at your parents' place in your hometown. Far from the hectic morning schedules of checking emails and going through hundreds of pages of case files, you stroll around your village, enjoying the greenery around you and the sunlight on your skin. You eat meals with your parents, help your mom with the household work, accompany your dad with his gardening and then sit by the nearby river and watch the children play as the sun goes down on the western sky. 

Your phone, which used to buzz with notifications every other minute, now remains mostly silent, except for certain times, like mornings and nights. Every morning, you wake up to a good morning text from Wonwoo, and at night, you receive a good night text. He asks you about your day and in return you ask about his, smiling at your phone at the simple, otherwise mundane words sent from him.

Despite being physically far away from him, you realize you feel closer and more connected to him than when you lay next to him. 

On the third day of your stay in your hometown, a package arrives early in the morning. 

Your attention from the TV is disrupted when you see your mom enter the dining space with a huge and expensive looking fruit basket in her hands. The confusion on her face makes you get up from your spot on the floor and observe the basket carefully.

It comes with a handwritten note that says, 

Dear ___,

A little gift for you and your family. I hope they enjoy it and I hope you have a good time at home. 

Love,

W

You try hard to stifle a silly smile. 

“Who is it from?” Your mother asks, opening the basket. “This does not come in cheap.”

“Oh, it’s from my boss.” You reply. “It's just a gift. I worked hard the past few months so he wants me to enjoy it with you guys.”

“How nice of him! I didn’t know bosses so nice existed any more.”

You only smile, helping your mom to take out the wide assortment of fruits. Once you are back in your room, you send a quick text to Wonwoo.

You: Thank you for the fruit basket. My mom really likes it.

His reply comes immediately.

Wonwoo: Don’t mention it. It was my pleasure. I want you to have a good time.

You: It was a thoughtful gesture. And don’t worry, I am having a good time.

Wonwoo: I am glad to hear it then. Let me know if you need anything.

You: Okay. Have a good day at work.

Wonwoo: Now that you texted me, I will have a great day ;)

Like a lovestruck fool, you grin at your screen.

—

The second week of your vacation passes as you organize your apartment and declutter all the junk that has piled up. In the evenings, you catch up with friends, visit cafes and restaurants, and go on a shopping spree before returning home for a peaceful sleep.

Wonwoo and you have fallen into a routine now. Other than random texts throughout the day, a voice call at night has become mandatory for you. He has been calling you every night after you get into bed and it is almost embarrassing how easily you fall asleep while listening to his voice over the phone. 

“When can I take you out on a date?” He asks randomly on a Friday night as you lay in bed and twirl your hair, staring at your ceiling.

“I don’t know.” You reply teasingly. You hear him sigh. 

“Are you really coming back to work this Monday?” He questions after a pause.

“Yes, I am.” “Take a longer break. Seriously.”

You release a sigh. “I have done all that I wanted to do for this break. I am honestly looking forward to returning. I miss my office.”

“Said no one ever.” Wonwoo huffs, making you laugh.

“Plus,” you grin even though he cannot see it. “I look forward to experiencing my first-ever office romance.”

You hear a short burst of laughter and you imagine Wonwoo’s face. 

“Well, then I need to give you enough work so that you visit my office every day.”

“How cruel of you.” You mock. “How can you do that to your over worked girlfriend?”

Wonwoo laughs which is followed by silence.

You observe the night sky from your bed, marveling at the beauty of the twinkling stars in the dark sky in the quiet solitude of the night. Wonwoo softly calls your name.

“Hm?” You hum.

“I am so lucky to have you.” His soft voice floats through the speaker. “I sometimes can’t believe you are my girlfriend now. Thank you, truly, for choosing me.”

His words make your heart soar, pounding loudly in your ribcage and you smile into your pillow.

“Quite a romantic, aren’t you, Mr. Jeon?”

He chuckles, the sound deep and throaty, sending tingles all through your body. Suddenly, you wish he was next to you so that you could kiss him.

“Only for you.” He replies, making your grin broader. 

—

You did not expect to be greeted by a huge bouquet of roses when you entered your office after your break. You stand on the threshold of your office, your mouth agape because of the bright red roses sitting on your desk and one of your co-workers sitting nearby takes notice of your shock.

“It came about fifteen minutes ago. A delivery man left it.” She explains. “The sender was anonymous. We were so curious we had to ask.” She adds sheepishly. 

You awkwardly chuckle at her words. 

Who could it be?

Shutting the door behind you, you drop your coat and bag and rush straight to the bouquet, smelling the sweet, heady scent of the flowers. They look even more beautiful up close, bright red and shiny and you cannot help a giddy smile of excitement. As you take the bouquet and carefully observe it, you find a pastel pink card stuck near the bottom of the stems. 

Immediately, you snatch it and pry it open. 

Welcome back. Thank you for another chance. Here is to new beginnings. 

Love, W

You bite your lip, trying to stifle the goofy smile spreading on your lips.

“Damn, who got you smiling like that?” Jeonghan bursts open through the door, ruining your moment.

“Ugh, Jeonghan!” You glare at the man, folding the note and stuffing it in your pocket.

He strolls in. “That is not how you greet me after not seeing me for two weeks.” He eyes the roses with a smirk. “I see we have a loverboy in our hands.” You roll your eyes. 

Jeonghan leans closer to your face and wiggles his eyebrows. “Looks like you two have…” he makes a suspicious gesture with his hands by slowly intertwining them, “reconciled in your break.”

This man, you swear to god. 

Ignoring him, you gently set aside the bouquet on your coffee table and fish out your phone from your pocket. “Shouldn’t you be asking how my vacation went?”

“Why bother with that when I can clearly see how good it went.” He grins suggestively.

“Gosh, you’re so annoying. Don’t you have any work to do?”

He pouts. “I just wanted to welcome you back. Also for your information, yes I do. With you gone Mr. Pi was stuck on me all day. Do you know how many cases I’m working on at the same time?”

“Mhmm.” You try to pay attention to his words while typing a message to Wonwoo.

Thank you for the roses. They are absolutely stunning.

Jeonghan, noticing your lack of response, leans over your shoulder to peek at your screen. “Ugh.” He makes a noise of disgust, waving his hand dismissively. “I cannot believe you’re choosing hoes over bros.”

You set your phone down. “I can see you’re as dramatic as before, bro.”

Jeonghan rolls his eyes, ready for a comeback with a snarky reply when his phone starts ringing. With a dejected sigh, he pulls it out of his pocket, heading for the door and casually pulling out a flower from your bouquet on his way. He grins, waving the flower at you and smoothly slips out of your room, leaving your mouth open. 

Gosh, he can be such a brat sometimes.

Your phone vibrates just then and you immediately unlock it to read Wonwoo’s message. 

My pleasure, love. They are not half as beautiful as you but I’m glad it made you happy.

You keep smiling goofily at your screen.

—

A shocking email waits for you in your inbox when you get to work on Tuesday morning. 

It is from secretary Yu, informing you that you have been selected for a promotion. If you accept, you will be the deputy head of the legal team of Jeon Industries. The email states you have two days to think it over and a response is expected before the meeting on Thursday.

You are blown out of the water.

For many long moments, you think you are reading it wrong and then for another good minute, you think it is addressed to the wrong person.

Once you realize none of that is true and this is in fact, reality, your hands fly to your gaping mouth. You scramble to find your phone and immediately dial Wonwoo who picks up on the third ring. 

“Hey there. Good morning.” He greets you warmly.

“Wonwoo—” You stop, struggling to arrange your thoughts. “Did you…did you recommend me for a promotion?”

“What? No.” It's hard to gauge his tone through the phone.

“Wonwoo, be serious.”

“I am. I didn’t!” There is a short pause. “Wait— did you get a promotion?” He almost yells.

“Apparently,” you murmur, staring at your computer. “I just saw Secretary Yu’s email.”

“What does it say?”

“I am chosen to be the next deputy head of your legal team.”

Silence.

“Holy shit.” He breathes. “Congratulations, sweetheart! You deserve it. I promise I had nothing to do with this.”

“Thank you. I…I just can’t believe it. It seems unreal.”

“Trust me, you deserve it so much.”

“I think your father is behind this.”

Wonwoo is quiet for a few beats. “I think you’re right. Well, this is the only decision of his I fully support and agree with.”

You smile, shaking your head at his words. 

Looks like you have got a decision to make.

—

“You’re hiding something from me,” Jeonghan states pointedly as you two wait in front of the elevator, ready to clock out for the day.

You whip your head towards him who stands with his hands in his pockets, his eyes trained on the little screen showing the floor number on top of the doors.

“What makes you say that?” You ask, amused.

“So you are hiding something from me,” he stares at you. The elevator reaches your floor, opening with a soft ding and you step in, followed by Jeonghan. “What is it?” he asks as the doors close. You smile, humming.

“Oh come on!”

The doors reopen on the next floor and the empty elevator is suddenly overcrowded as a dozen of people flood in. You and your colleague are pushed to the very back, your backs pressed against the cold steel wall.

“I got a promotion.” You whisper to Jeonghan who stands next to you. He takes a second to register your words before his eyes widen and then, in the crowded, confined space, he yells, “What!”

Everyone turns to look at him. You avoid their gaze out of embarrassment, instead staring hard at your shoes, stifling a smile while being hyper aware that Jeonghan is drilling holes into your face with his eyes.

As soon as you are out of the elevator, Jeonghan blocks your way in a dramatic fashion. “Lawyer ___, you have got some explaining to do. Right now.”

“I’ve been selected as the deputy head of the legal team of Jeon Industries.”

His jaw falls slack. The next moment, he is engulfing you in a bear hug. “Congratulations! Fucking hell, I’m so happy for you! Wait…why did you keep this from me?” His face deadpans as he observes you carefully.

“I…I didn’t necessarily hide it from you.” You look down. “I’m just…still processing it. It feels too good to be true.” “Are you seriously doubting your capabilities right now? You’re the perfect person for the job. Hell, I don’t see why they did not make you the head.”

You laugh, shaking your head at his words.

“No, I’m serious! Don’t laugh!”

You nod, still smiling. Pushing your glasses up your nose, you look into his eyes. “Thank you Jeonghan. Seriously.”

“Well, a thank you won’t cut it,” he announces, heading towards the revolving doors, dragging you by your arm. “You need to treat me. Let’s go for some drinks.”

“I’m really sorry.” You stop. “I have plans.”

Jeonghan turns back, his eyes narrow. “Let me guess, with the billionaire, alpha hot CEO Mr. Jeon Wonwoo?”

You snicker, shoving him playfully. “Oh my god, you’re so annoying!”

He grins. “Is he coming to pick you up?”

“No, I’ll meet him at the park next block.”

“Ah, I see.” He nods. “Keeping it under the wraps now, eh? You don’t want to make it public?”

You immediately shake your head no. “You know how it is. He just became the CEO and a dating rumour would put him under even more speculation. Plus, we’re taking it slow this time. It’s still too early to announce anything.”

“Hmm, it’s a good call.” He reaches into his jacket, fishing for his keys. “Would you like me to drop you off over there?”

You chuckle, “It’s barely a five minute walk, Jeonghan.”

“Alright then. Have fun with your lover boy, I guess. You still owe me drinks!” He starts walking. “Also, don’t forget to use protection!” He yells out loud and purposefully, grinning like a gremlin at your horrified reaction. 

The lobby is fairly empty but you don’t miss the looks the few people around are giving you.

“Fuck you, Jeonghan! No drinks for you!” You yell back, face heated with mortification.

—

“I cannot believe we’re here doing this,” Wonwoo murmurs, staring at the tray of burger, fries and drinks on his lap. You pause in the middle of a bite of your burger to look at him. 

“I really thought I could get a reservation there.” he sighs, referring to the Michelin-star restaurant he wanted to take you to for dinner. “I wanted to celebrate your promotion with a seven course meal and here we are eating…burgers.”

You finish chewing your bite and then glance at him. “Wonwoo, seriously, this is great. I was craving fast food anyway. And you have to admit, this is much more fun. Getting drive through and eating in your car after work? I’ll take this over a fancy restaurant any day.”

Wonwoo looks at you, a soft smile blooming on his lips. 

You point your chin at his food. “Try the burger, seriously, it is so good.” You reach for your own, taking a quick sip of your drink and letting out a satisfied groan. The fizzy drinks and the greasy burger are a phenomenal combo.

“You look beautiful.” Wonwoo suddenly says, making you pause chewing your food and look at him, both startled and shy. His thumb brushes across your lower lip, wiping away the stain of sauce. He brings the finger to his lips, licking it clean while holding eye contact with you.

Your heart skips a beat and you immediately look away, feeling your face heat up. 

It feels like a thousand degrees in here suddenly. 

“I really missed you.” He murmurs, his voice tender and sweet, doing nothing but increasing the beat of your racing heart. You take a long gulp of your drink before meeting his soft gaze. In the dimly lit parking space, the artificial lights cast weird shadows on his face yet he has never looked this handsome, this ethereal, you realize. 

“I missed you too.” You whisper with a twinge of smile. “Two weeks turned out to be longer than I thought.”

He smiles. “It was long. Excruciatingly so.” He pauses. “Have you thought about the offer? You’re taking it right?”

“It sure is tempting.” You reply, going back to your food. With every bite you take, your hunger seems to increase tenfold. You briefly wonder what they put into this.

“If you are doubting yourself then please don’t.” Wonwoo places a soft hand on your thigh. “You are so talented and hardworking. More than anyone else, you deserve it. After all, no one handled my tantrums and all the troubles I caused better than you.”

You laugh, nodding. “That is true.” 

“Plus,” he leans closer to you. “We cannot have that office romance I was talking about if we are not in the same office.”

You meet his gaze. “Oh! You are right about that. But wait…are you trying to bribe me into taking the position?” You playfully narrow your eyes at him, popping a fry into your mouth. 

“You caught me there,” he grins before smirking at you. “Just think of all the fun things we could do at work.” He wiggles his brows suggestively.

“Jeon Wonwoo!” You throw a fry at him, laughing. He grins his signature foxy grin that sends your heart racing and butterflies erupting in your stomach. 

“But seriously,” You watch his expression shift as he pops the fry into his mouth before looking at you. “I know the new title will come with a lot of responsibilities. And I also understand that you will be leaving your colleagues behind so the scene will be unfamiliar to you at first. Still, I think you will smash this job. I was going to offer you a permanent position at my company anyway before I heard this.”

“Hmm, I wonder why.” You tease. “To do scandalous things at work with me?”

Wonwoo huffs but you don’t miss the smile creeping up on his lips. “I’m being serious, ____.”

You nod, wiping your fingers with the napkin. “I know. Thank you for your words, truly.” You place your hand on top of his knuckles. 

“I’m just speaking the truth.” He replies, holding your hand between his.

“Thank you, Wonwoo. For this—” you gesture at the food and the interior of his car, “for your kind words and for your support. Thank you.”

His lips touch your knuckles for a soft, sweet kiss. “It is my pleasure, always.” 

—

The meeting goes well on Thursday morning. You are surprised to find Chairman Jeon there along with Wonwoo, who wanted to officially introduce you as the deputy head to the entire team. After the meeting, you are shown a room, which is set to be your personal office from next week, located on the same floor as Wonwoo’s office and right next to Mr. Choi’s office, who is the most senior and head lawyer of the company.

That night, Mr. Pi takes you and some of your closest colleagues for drinks, treating it as an official goodbye party for you. He even sings two songs for you, crying his drunk heart out while saying goodbye and wishing you well while you and everyone else cringe in their seats, covering your ears. 

“I’ll miss you, seriously.” Jeonghan murmurs, staring at the ground as you both walk home after the drinks and deafening singing.

“I will too.” You sigh. “Come visit me often. We have meetings every week at the headquarters anyway.” He nods. “You know, I am so glad that I met you. It was so fun working with you for the last few months.”

You smile. “Same for me. Though you were really annoying sometimes, I will miss you, Lawyer Yoon.”

He grins. “Well, as my final show of respect for you, I shall escort you home tonight. Protect you from the dangers of the night.”

“Mhmm,” you smirk. “From stray dogs too? There are a few in the park by my apartment.” You watch his face for his reaction, knowing very well Jeonghan is afraid of dogs. He doesn’t like dogs and unsurprisingly, dogs don’t want him either.

“Well then, my lady,” Jeoghan says with mock seriousness, “you will have to fend for yourself.”

Your laughter echoes through the quiet air of the night. As you continue down your path home, you realize something. You have been smiling so much recently, more than ever before.

The revelation once again, makes you smile. 

—

The lobby of the Grand Hotel is slightly more crowded for a Saturday morning, you observe while sipping your coffee and waiting for your friend to come downstairs. A business convention is taking place in the hall room, which accounts for the men in suits and ties scrambling all over.

You are here to see an old friend from college who has settled abroad because of her career as a fashion designer. She is staying here and you are set to meet at the lobby before going on a shopping and eating spree. She rarely visits her homeland and now that she has, a reunion of the two of you was a must.

Your eyes skirting all over the huge lobby spot Rina before she spots you as you find her stepping out of the VIP elevators. Your hands spring up on their own out of excitement and you start waving them to gain her attention. She notices you immediately and with a squeal dashes to you and engulfs you in a hug.

Your conversations flow immediately as you two plop down on the plush sofas in the lobby, ordering some drinks for your throats which will soon be parched from all the talking and the laughing.

Rina shares about her life and work abroad and you talk about your work and your recent promotion. The topics flow smoother than the current of a river as you eagerly listen to every word your friend says, sipping your drink occasionally.

Until…

Until suddenly, your attention from your friend’s words is snatched away as you spot something in front of you. Something so serious it pries you away from the conversation you were so engaged in. 

About a hundred feet away from where you sit there are a group of people, two older men who you immediately recognize. One is Chairman Jeon and the other is President Lee, owner of the biggest textile industry in the country. Seeing them here is nothing out of the ordinary because today’s convention is arranged by Mr. Lee’s company and Chairman Jeon is a close friend of his, thus he is naturally attending. As they sit down, you spot a young girl next to Mr. Lee, appearing to be his daughter.

What catches your full attention and sends your heart racing, however, is the presence of Wonwoo, dressed formally in a grey suit and pants, who walks to the group, shakes hands with Mr. Lee and then sits next to his father, his back facing you.

Agitation crawls up your neck like a slithering snake as you watch the group talk, a bright smile plastered on the girl's face as she talks to Wonwoo. Then suddenly, it hits you like a ton of bricks.

It is Yuna Lee. 

Of course. Yuna Lee, the only daughter of Mr. Lee, the girl Chairman Jeon wants Wonwoo to marry.

A stuttered breath falls from your lips as you continue watching their exchange until you cannot anymore. 

“Rina,” Your sharp and urgent tone stops your friend in her speech. She regards you with slightly wide and puzzled eyes.

“Let’s get out of here.” You stand up, slinging your bag over your shoulders. “It is too crowded. There’s a nice cafe on the next block.”

You force a smile.

—

You lie in your bed, sprawled out, blank gaze fixed on the ceiling of your bedroom.

Today was shit.

You were so excited to catch up with Rina, take her around the city and have a fun time reconnecting with an old friend. None of that happened because you spent the entire day in a haze, your mind repeatedly going back to Wonwoo and Yuna, her shining eyes and bright smile, looking eagerly at Wonwoo.

Yuna Lee, the ex prima ballerina. Yuna Lee, the most sought after single woman in the country, both by men and the hundreds of brands eager to work with her. Yuna Lee with her porcelain skin, slanted eyes and a smile so sweet it could cure the plague. Yuna Lee, heir to billions and a perfect match for Wonwoo, in all ways.

The thought raises bile to your throat, and you hate how bitter, insignificant, and jealous you feel. What is worse is that Wonwoo never mentioned this meeting to you. Yesterday, he took you out to dinner to celebrate your promotion and then drove you home afterwards. He walked you to your door, pressed a soft, loving kiss to your lips, and wished you a nice time with your friend.

Did he know all along? Why did he lie to you? He rejected Yuna, didn’t he?

As if on cue, your phone rings, jolting you out of your thoughts. The caller is Wonwoo and you stare at the screen, your hands not moving to pick up the call. It continues ringing before finally the call disconnects and with a sigh, you lie back down, slightly relieved. You don’t feel like talking to him right now. He texted you earlier, asking how your hangout went but you have not replied. It is petty and childish and very unlike you but today, you cannot find it in yourself to give a fuck.

The phone rings again and with a huff, you sit up, contemplating. Finally, on the fifth ring, you begrudgingly pick up the call. 

“Hey? You alright?” Wonwoo’s voice immediately floats through, concerned and hurried.

“Yes,” you try to put some effort into making your voice lively. “I was in the bathroom, didn’t hear the ring.” The lies slip away easily.

“It’s okay. I was getting worried. Did your date go well? How long is your friend staying?” 

“Yes, it was good.” Your voice is flat and you are aware of how dry you sound. “Another week, I think. She needs to return to Italy for the fashion week.”

“I see.” Wonwoo hums. “Oh, right. ____, could you open your door real quick? I sent something for you. My assistant is there.” “Wait? What?” You sit up straighter. “Now?”

Wonwoo laughs, “Yes, now. I wanted to surprise you. I’ll be on the call, just open the door.”

You shuffle out of bed, putting on your slippers and hurrying out of the room. Without bothering to look at the intercom screen, you open your door and fall silent.

With parted lips and wide eyes, you stand there, holding the door open as your hand holding your phone to the ear falls down your side.

Wonwoo grins, sweet and cheeky, his nose scrunching up from the action. He stands there in a navy blue oversized sweater and cream pants, looking boyish and happy as he extends a bouquet of mixed flowers to you.

“Surprise!” He chirps, hanging up the call.

A noise of shock and bewilderment comes from you as you reach out for the flowers. “I— you…”

Wonwoo chuckles, walking into your apartment. “I see you are surprised, love.” He smiles, pressing a kiss to your forehead. Momentarily, you are taken over by the clean, soapy scent coming from him and you close your eyes, savouring his smell and his touch. Too quickly for your liking, he moves away, toeing off his loafers and stepping into your living area.

“I was wondering if I did something wrong you know,” he smiles as you follow him in. “You didn’t reply to my messages earlier and my call so I was wondering how I fucked up.”

“So you came prepared with the flowers?” You ask, your voice less playful than you intended it to be. 

“Not really,” he replies, watching you set the bouquet in a vase and place it in a corner of your kitchen counter. “I wanted to surprise you anyway…” He trails off, walking closer to you. Gently holding your shoulders, he makes you turn to face him, his eyes focused and curiously set on your face. He whispers, “You know, I’m not really good at this stuff but I do think that something is wrong. You are mad at me aren’t you?”

You cannot help a smirk. He did grow up, didn’t he?

“Well…if you haven’t done anything wrong then it should be fine, no?” You walk past him and head into your bedroom, sitting down comfortably on the bed. Like an obedient puppy, he trails after you and then sits next to you.

“Fuck, I’m sorry. I really don’t know what I did wrong. I’m sorry for not getting it and I’m sorry for whatever I did wrong.” The genuine look of distress on his face makes you sigh softly.

“Wonwoo…” You murmur, looking at his hands fidgeting on top of his lap. “I saw you today, at the Grand Hotel. With your father and Mr. Lee and…Yuna.”

Wonwoo’s eyes widen slightly as recognition flashes over his face. “Ah, that.” He sounds almost relieved.

“You didn’t tell me you were seeing her today.” You whisper, your voice meek and small, your gaze trained on your own lap.

“Sweetheart, I didn’t know, I promise.” Wonwoo urges, his hands coming to rest on top of yours. “I was there to attend the conference and then I got a call from my father, asking me to come out and meet Mr. Lee. I didn’t know she was there.”

“What did you guys talk about?” You whisper, relishing the feeling of his warm hands on yours. Wonwoo remains silent for a beat and you know what the answer is. You cannot bring yourself to meet his gaze so you choose to stare at his hands instead. 

“Marriage.” Wonwoo’s voice is quiet. “My father and Mr. Lee wish to see us married.”

“Yuna too.” You murmur, almost to yourself.

“What?”

“Yuna too.” You exhale a heavy sigh before looking at him. “She likes you, Wonwoo. I saw how she was looking at you. I know that look. She also wants to get married to you.”

Wonwoo remains silent, his lips pressed into a thin line, his gaze piercing your heart and soul, leaving you unable to guess what he is thinking. For one too horrible moment, you think you have lost Wonwoo.

“Well that's too bad,” he says, squeezing your hands. “Because I don’t feel the same way about her. There is only one woman on this planet I want to marry and I think we both know who that is.”

The corners of his mouth lift in a teasing smile and your heart soars, a small smile creeping on your face too.

He continues. “I told them very clearly today that I won’t marry Yuna. My father was very annoyed, of course, but I don’t care. So rest assured sweetheart, I’m all yours.”

Your shy smile morphs into a giggle as you lean on him, putting your face on his shoulder. With a soft laugh, he envelops you with his arms, holding you tight against his body. “Are we good now? Am I out of the dog house?”

“Yes,” you laugh.

“Good,” he hums. “Because I missed you. I always miss you.” He murmurs, pressing a kiss on top of your head. Holding you against his body, he lies down on the bed on his back, dragging you with him. Half of your body lays on top of him as you get comfortable, placing your head on his chest and listening to his rhythmic heartbeat, your fingers mindlessly tracing the subtle patterns on his sweater. 

“Wonwoo?” You call him softly.

“Hm?”

“I think we should tell Chairman Jeon about us.”

Silence follows. You remove your head to look at your boyfriend’s face. He observes you inquisitively as if trying to decode the inner workings of your mind. 

“Are you sure?” He asks quietly.

You nod, propping your body on your elbows so that you can look at him. “Before my vacation, he called me to his office for a chat. He asked me if I knew who was the girl you are interested in. I lied and said no, which did not feel good. He seemed open to meeting her you know. I think we should go see him.”

Wonwoo continues looking at you silently. “What are you thinking?” You whisper, slightly tense.

“I just…am surprised, I guess. I mean, I have no problem with us meeting him but I don’t want to pressure you. I know it might be tough and uncomfortable for you since you have a professional relationship with him. But if you really want to, then let’s go see him on Monday.”

“Are you uncomfortable with the idea?”

“No.” He ponders for a moment. “I just don’t care enough. I won’t exactly ask for his blessings, you know. We don’t have a relationship like that. So don’t worry too much about what he will think of you because, at the end of the day, it won’t matter. I will date you, whether he likes it or not.”

“He might be disappointed.” You whisper softly, your hand absent mindedly reaching to his throat to trace his adam’s apple. “Compared to Yuna, you know. That match is profitable in so many ways.”

“Love is not about profit,” Wonwoo replies, his voice quiet and serious. “Like I said, it doesn’t matter what he thinks. Come here.” He pulls you in for a hug, your body wrapping around his while your head remains nestled against his throat, breathing in his addictive scent. You lay like that for a while basking in the peaceful silence and each other's warmth, his fingers drawing soothing on your back.

“Did you have dinner?” He asks softly. With a negative shake of your head, you look at his face, studying his stunning features up close. Without much of a thought, you press a kiss to his jaw, slowly trailing it to his lips. His soft lips meet yours for a chaste sweet kiss that gradually turns into a passionate, fiery one.

Wonwoo shifts, his body pressing yours flat on the bed as he comes on top, craning your neck higher to gain better access to your mouth. He kisses you like a starved man, his tongue exploring every inch of your mouth and you return the kiss with equal fervour, your hands tightly clinging onto his sweater, tugging on it, twisting the fabric in your grip as you lose yourself in his touch.

“Fuck,” Wonwoo inhales sharply, breaking apart from you. His eyes are glassy, illuminated by desire and his lips are bright red and swollen, a clear evidence of your passion. “Fuck, if we keep going, I cannot hold myself back.”

“Then don’t.” You whisper, looking up at him eagerly while licking your swollen lips. Wonwoo closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. “No, I…I didn’t come here for this, fuck. I don’t want you to think that I’m—”

You shush him with a quick, soft kiss on his lips.

“We agreed to go on my pace, right? I want this Wonwoo, I promise.” You smile at him. Wonwoo hesitates, staring at you intensely and you see his eyes glance at your lips and his jaw harden. Then, with a soft, dejected sigh, he leans down and kisses you. He is softer and slower this time but there is determination in his every move, his hands going all over your body in a passionate, devoted caress.

“You’re so beautiful.” He whispers, looking into your eyes lovingly and in that moment, the pure adoration in his voice makes you truly feel beautiful. Beautiful and loved. You break into a shy but giddy smile, your hands working on unbuttoning the top two buttons of his sweater. Your movements are not rushed and Wonwoo is patient, simply observing you with adoration as you finish your task. Then, he sits up and takes off the sweater in a smooth motion.

Your eyes feast on every delicious inch of his naked skin, every contour of his muscles, scouring all over his chiseled body. It has been a long time since you saw him naked and you unashamedly cherish the visual in front of you, taking your time.

“May I?” Wonwoo asks softly, pointing to the hem of your sweater. With a smile you nod and he pulls it off, revealing your bare torso. Your nipples harden and your skin breaks into goosebumps because of the slight chill. Wonwoo immediately wraps his body around yours, hugging you tight and pressing kisses all over your neck and shoulders. He takes his time, kissing, sucking and marking your flesh while his hands work on taking off your bottoms.

"Do you know how mesmerizing you are?" He whispers, his thumb stroking your cheek with utmost tenderness as he flings away the last bit of clothing from your body. You lean into his touch, eyes falling closed at the contact as a soft sigh escapes your lips. He is looking at you like you are his entire world, like you are the only thing keeping him alive and it creates a foreign sense of desire in your belly, one you have never felt before.

"Lean back," his voice is a quiet command that you follow instantly, resting your back against the headboard and letting him sit comfortably. Not breaking eye contact with you, Wonwoo slowly spreads your legs wide. You watch with bated breath and a squeak leaves your mouth when he pushes his index finger inside you, slipping in easily due to your wetness. He makes a noise, a deep throaty groan as his digit finds home inside you. 

"Fuck, you're so wet," he murmurs as he inserts another finger and then another before curling them inside you.

"God— Wonwoo" You hiss at the pleasurable intrusion, grabbing the nearby pillow as your hips lift off the mattress. Your reaction makes him grunt as he fastens his pace and you feel your legs tremble, making you think that you are going to come already. Your core tightens around his fingers as more wetness leaks from you, only amplified when he brushes his thumb against your clit. Wonwoo devotes all his attention to your face, watching your expressions with a close, fascinated eye. “Close?” He whispers, his voice deep and scratchy. 

You nod your head aggressively, eyes screwed shut and your hips chasing his fingers in their own tandem. You climb higher and higher to your release, tingles shooting all through your body, making your legs shake. You open your eyes to see Wonwoo’s fingers still moving inside you while he shifts his position, making himself comfortable between your legs and leaning down.

“Wonwoo,” you croak, flushed with desire. 

“Shh,” he shushes you, slowing the movements of his fingers. “Let me taste you, hmm? I want you to cum on my face.” He murmurs, lips hovering over your thighs, the touch of his warm breath giving you goosebumps. The low gravel of his voice paired with the way he keeps looking at you from between your thighs makes you swallow thickly before resting your head back against the headboard, a shuddering breath leaving your lips as you feel your heart pound faster than ever.. 

The next moment you feel him flick your clit with his tongue and your entire body jolts, a long drawn out moan rushing past your mouth.

Fuck, you just might die.

Your body writhes while he holds your thighs open in a strong grip, incoherent gasps and curses of pleasure falling from your lips. Wonwoo is a man starved as he eats you out mercilessly, alternating between slow and fast licks, his tongue going deep inside your most intimate parts. You can't remain still, tears of pleasure stinging your eyes as your body shakes and pleas fall from your lips.

“Wonwoo, please… I need to come.”

“You want to come, sweetheart?” His voice comes out muffled. “Then come for me.” 

His words have your toes curling as he gives a harsh suck to your clit and in an instant, you go off like a firework. The heated coil in your belly snaps as your body twitches, sending you headfirst into an orgasm so good, so deep, tears drip down your eyes. All through it, Wonwoo keeps sucking your pussy, almost making you numb before stopping with a final kiss on your pussy and sitting back.

His lips glisten with your release as he sits on his knees, a cocky smile on his lips.

“You taste addictive, my love.” He murmurs, leaning forward to press soft, tantalising kisses on your jaw and down your throat. A satisfied hum falls from your lips as you close your eyes and savour his kisses, your body still reeling from that mind blowing orgasm.

His lips find yours again and your mouth reconnect in an embrace of passion, his tongue poking in your mouth as you taste yourself. One of his hands moves down amidst the kiss and you realize he's taking off his pants. With a soft groan, he breaks the kiss and quickly stands up to kick his boxers and pants down his legs. 

With your heartbeat still echoing in your ears, you admire him in his nakedness in the softly lit room, drinking every glorious inch of him. You can't stray your eyes from his cock, hard and leaking as you gulp and press your thighs together, feeling desire pool between your legs all over again.

Wonwoo crawls back into the bed, his eyes lit with carnal hunger as he makes himself comfortable on top of you, resting his weight on his elbows. “You ready for me?”

“Yes, please.” You almost whimper. “I need you so bad, Wonwoo. Just fuck me.”

He smiles. “As you wish.” He lines himself up and in the next moment, you feel his tip prodding at your core. He slides in easily, almost embarrassingly easy as your sopping cunt welcomes him with wide open arms. A low groan escapes from his throat as he buries his head in the crook of your neck, cursing under his breath The sound makes you clench around him which makes him curse again.

“Fuck, you are so tight, sweetheart. I missed you. I missed being inside you like this, fuck.”

You can only respond in an incoherent hum as he starts moving inside you, making you throw your head back and let out a loud moan. He raises his head to look at you and your eyes meet, making everything even more intense and intimate. The look in his eyes is ever captivating, enamoured yet full of heated desire as he thrusts in and out of you tirelessly, hitting that sensitive spot inside you perfectly each time.

“You're going to be the death of me.” He whispers, his mouth working on your jaw, moving down to your throat and sucking harshly on the soft flesh, making you shudder in pleasure. “Wonwoo!” You cry. “Fuck—”

“Where do you want me to cum, sweetheart?” He hums, trailing his lips back up to your mouth. “Inside me,” you reply immediately, every other thought and worry slipping out of your mind as you find yourself lost in his touch.

“Okay,” Wonwoo grunts, slightly increasing his pace. You pant heavily, clutching onto his back as he drives deep into you, his hands holding your waist in a bruising grip. “Gonna fill you up then, then. Make you mine all over again.” He promises, his eyes trained on your face like he is mesmerized by it as he delivers one particular thrust that has you arching off the bed and seeing stars. Each touch makes you feel like a goddess, like Wonwoo is a desperate devotee worshipping you at your altar which is your body. His pace is unforgiving, maddening, yet the look in his eyes is something new and intimate that turns this act into something so much more real, something that tugs at your heartstrings and makes you feel whole in an overwhelming way.

Then there is a soft touch on your swollen clit and a quiet command from him which has fireworks exploding all throughout your body. You cry out from the intense flood of pleasure as white spots dance in your vision, your hands twisting the fabric of the bedsheet so hard it would be no surprise if they tore. 

The next moment you feel Wonwoo release inside you with a deep groan and the feeling of his warm cum coating your insides gives your body another round of shivers as you almost blank out. Your body twitches and shivers as you feel numb for a few moments, your brain covered in a deep fog of mind numbing pleasure.

“You okay?” Wonwoo’s soft voice slowly brings you back to your senses and you smile with your eyes half closed. ‘Mhmm,” you mumble, leaning closer to him as he wraps an arm around you, rubbing your shoulders soothingly. You hum, eyes easily falling closed in the comfort and safety of his body.

“Hold on.” He whispers. “Let me clean you up, hm?”

You mutter complaints when he leaves your side to go to the bathroom. By the time he returns, you have drifted off with a smile still lingering on your face.

—

Your heels click on the hard floor as you walk down the hall to Chairman Jeon’s office. Despite resigning from his post, he often spends his mornings at his old office room, reading newspapers or idly staring at the city skyline from his window. It is convenient for you and Wonwoo because it is just nine o’clock and the first thing you have decided to do today is visit him and get it done with. 

Wonwoo walks in front of you, his steps quick and determined. Initially, he asked you to hold his hand while you showed up to meet Chairman Jeon but you refused. 

It felt improper to do. This is your workplace after all.

Wonwoo comes to a halt right in front of the door, his hand resting on the handle when he turns his head back to look at you. You give him a nod and a shaky smile and he returns it, bright and reassuring, his eyes silently cheering you on.

Then, without bothering to knock, Wonwoo pushes the door open and marches in.

You wait for a couple of seconds, taking a deep breath and preparing yourself before you follow him in. Chairman Jeon is surprised to see Wonwoo and even shocked to see you step in.

“I was not expecting to see you,” his tone is slightly flat and directed at Wonwoo, you realize. “Father,” Wonwoo murmurs as a greeting, looking rather bored. You watch the exchange awkwardly before the Chairman glances at you. “Ah, Miss ____. I was not expecting you either but what a pleasant surprise. I was going to ask you to come in for a chat soon. How was your vacation?”

“It was great, sir.” You reply, more politely and humbly than ever before.

“Good, good.” he nods. “What brings you here this early?” He pauses for a second, his eyes averting to his son. “Don’t tell me he got into any trouble?”

“Oh! No, sir, not at all.” You rush to clarify, looking helplessly at Wonwoo. He catches your gaze and takes the lead. “I’m here to talk to you,” he announces. “About something important.” 

A pause. “You wanted to know who I’m seeing, right?”

The chairman nods. Suddenly his eyes flash bright and he looks at you with excitement. “Did you finally manage to convince him to share it with me? I knew you could do it!”

Oh god. You cringe inwardly, an awkward yet terrified smile plastered on your face.

“No, father, please—” Wonwoo sighs, rubbing his forehead. He slumps down on the empty couch in front of Chairman Jeon and motions you to sit next to him. You tentatively do so.

“You wanted to see her. Here she is.” Wonwoo states matter of factly, looking at his father dead in the eyes like he is talking about the weather. 

Chairman Jeon blinks at his son, evidently confused. Then he glances at you and after a moment's pause, his eyes widen and his lips part slightly.

Well, the cat is out of the bag now.

Wonwoo has the grace to give his father a few moments to digest the information before he continues. “Out of respect for you, she wanted to do this. Now the thing is father…” Wonwoo pauses, putting his elbows on his knees to interlock his fingers and lean closer, “I love her.”

The confession has your heart skipping not one but multiple beats as your head whips towards him, absolutely stunned. 

He is dead serious. 

He continues, looking at his father in the eye, “She is the one for me so I’m sure now you get why I was so against your matchmaking. More importantly, I need you to know that I’m not here to ask your permission or blessings. I will continue to see her, whether you like it or not. There is that.”

You have the urge to put your head in your hands, maybe even scream at Wonwoo. Could he not have been slightly nicer?

The chairman continues to stare at his son impassively for long, suffocating moments. The two seem to have engaged in a staring contest, their gaze loaded with challenge as the air in the room thickens up with tension. You start to think they have forgotten about your presence in the room when finally, Chairman Jeon turns his glance to you.

“Could you please excuse us, Miss ___?” His voice is normal, devoid of any indication of pleasure or lack thereof. “I need to speak to my son in private.” The latter words come out sharper as his gaze refocuses on Wonwoo.

You immediately stand up. “Yes sir, of course.” You murmur and turn around. Your eyes lock with Wonwoo’s and you scowl at him but he just smiles. “I’ll see you later.”

You give him a stiff nod and rush out the door to find Secretary Yu standing right outside.

“Miss ___.” He greets in his regular monotone voice.

“Secretary Yu,” your words come out slightly breathy due to your shock. You are about to pretend nothing happened and walk away but a question pops in your head and you glance back at him.

“Did you know?” You ask.

He remains silent, his face stoic and his gaze boring at you but he seems to have understood what you are referring to. Finally, he replies. “I had a guess.”

“Why did you not tell Chairman Jeon?”

“Because I did not have evidence. And to be honest, knowing CEO Jeon, I assumed he was not serious about you. I am surprised to learn otherwise.” Neither his face nor his tone indicates any surprise. You are not even sure if you detect approval or dismay in his words. As always, he is unreadable and you feel slightly frustrated.

“I see.” You reply, your tone flat. Your feet continue down the hallway, your footsteps echoing through the narrow chamber. Secretary Yu calls your name, forcing you to stop and turn around.

“Take it easy.”

You nod and continue walking.

—

Originally, today was supposed to be your first day at Jeon Industries but the plan changed due to some last minute shifts. You still have one more case to wrap up for your firm so you are set to start at Jeon Industries from tomorrow. Now, you are more than grateful for this delay because staying inside the building was suffocating. You could not have gotten any work done, knowing Chairman Jeon was right down the hallway, talking to Wonwoo and deciding your fate. 

As soon as you are out of the building, you breathe a sigh of relief and hail a cab to meet up with your last client from your previous workplace. Ten minutes into the car ride, your phone rings and you know it is Wonwoo. You pick up immediately.

“Hi.” You whisper, your voice slightly breathy, your heart thudding loudly in your chest.

“Hey,” Wonwoo’s soft voice comes through the speaker. “Are you on your way to meet your client?”

“Yes.” You reply quickly. “How was it, Wonwoo? Does he hate me?”

You hear your boyfriend laugh, leaving you perplexed. “No actually. He hates me but that’s old news.” “Gosh, Wonwoo—” You huff, raking a hand through your hair out of frustration. “Will you just tell me what he told you?” “Alright, alright. He just asked me if I knew what I was doing and if I could really make this work with you.”

“Huh?”

“Trust me, I was surprised too.” He chuckles. “He was pretty tame about it. If anything, he seemed to be worried for you. He flat out told me he thinks I don’t have the balls to keep a girl like you around. He said I would blow it which, to be fair, I did once so he’s not wrong about that.”

You are stunned to silence.

“Really? Are you sure you’re not kidding, Wonwoo?”

“Yes, sweetheart, I’m sure. You can relax now. You had nothing much to worry about in the first place. He has no reason to dislike you and even if he did, it would not have mattered.”

You let out a loud breath of relief, one you feel like you have holding all morning. “Well,” you smile even though he cannot see it. “I am relieved.”

“I’m glad to hear that. Should we meet up tonight? I am heading out right now to visit our factories and I think my work there will take up the day.”

“I have plans with Rina tonight.” You reply apologetically.

“Ah, that’s alright. Have fun. I will see you tomorrow at the office anyway.”

“Mhmm.” You bite your lip, hesitating to ask the question bugging your mind.

“I know you have something you want to tell me.” Wonwoo’s voice is playful and you cannot help but giggle out loud. “How did you know?”

He laughs and you imagine his cocky smirk. “I just do. You’re my girlfriend, after all. Now spill.”

You take a deep breath in. “Do you love me?”

“What kind of a question is that?”

“No… it's just that, earlier, you said that you loved me. Do you really?”

“Of course I do.” His voice is soft, almost pleading. 

A broad smile kisses your lips. “I see. I just wanted to make sure. I mean…you never said it to my face before.”

“I…I didn’t because—” he stutters, “well, I did not want to put pressure on you. We agreed to take it slow this time and I thought it might be…I don’t know…I’m sorry. I was so passionate in there and it just came out…” He trails off nervously. 

“Wonwoo?” You call softly.

“Yes?”

“I love you too.”

You can practically hear him break into a smile. “Really?” He asks, his pitch higher than usual, a clear sign he’s excited. You grin, shaking your head up and down. “Really.”

His deep, melodic laughter floats through and you cannot help but join in. Briefly, you wonder what the cab driver may think of you, laughing like this with your phone pressed to your ear but you’re too in love to care.

“Thank you.” Wonwoo finally says, his voice soft yet serious. “It…it took me losing you to realize how much I love you. At first, I was mad, to be honest. I have never been rejected by a girl before. But then as days passed, a sinking feeling swallowed me up whole. I realized I love you and I was an asshole to you. I became sure of it when I saw you with Jeonghan and for many days, I thought I lost you for good. God, I don’t want to feel like that ever again.” He ends with a deep sigh, his words so raw they penetrate deep into your heart. 

You open your mouth to assure him but he continues. “I’m sorry it took me losing you to love you but still, I’m glad. I’m glad and I’m happy that you gave me another chance. I love you, ___. I am so happy I get to love you.”

God have mercy. Tears sting your eyes and you look up, fanning your face.

“Wow, Jeon Wonwoo,” you try to sound playful but your voice comes out hoarse, choked with emotions. “I was not expecting this. Especially over the phone.”

His soft laughter floats through. “I know right, I wasn’t either. I just…felt like telling you, I guess.”

“Well, thank you. I love it when you are honest with me.”

“Then I will try to be more honest with you from now on.” He pauses and then sighs. “Sweetheart, I’m getting a call. I’ll call you tonight?”

“Yes, tonight.” You reply with a smile.

—

The breakfast club is packed, full of elderly people—retired rich businessmen and their wives, to be exact—who gossip, play golf, eat, and smoke in the early morning on a Tuesday while the rest of the world is on their way to work. 

You feel out of your depth here and you would have never come to a place like this had it not been for Chairman Jeon’s instructions.

Last night after you got back from dinner with Rina, you saw the text Chairman Jeon sent you. There was an address below which he wrote:

Meet me here tomorrow at 8.30 am.

Your heart stopped beating immediately and shriveled up in your chest as the reality of the situation hit you. The other shoe had finally dropped and you spent the entire night feeling restless and worrying out of your mind. You lied to Wonwoo to avoid talking to him, saying you felt very sleepy. Instead, you spent the majority of your night pacing back and forth in your room, conjuring up a thousand different ways this meeting could go.

Now, you are here, amidst the chatter of rich people, waiting for your fate to be decided.

With a deep breath, you square your shoulders and put your best game face on as you walk through the large dining space enclosed in a glass building right next to the huge golf field. You continue straight down until you reach the end of the room and find Chairman Jeon at a table, flipping through a newspaper. 

Before your mind starts spiraling you head towards him.

“Good morning, Chairman.”

He looks up from his newspaper and smiles. “Ah, you’re just on time! Sit.” He motions to the empty space opposite him and you do so diligently. A waitress comes to your table, serving you a cup of earl grey tea and refilling the Chairman’s empty cup.

“Thank you for taking the trouble to come see me before your work.” He says, folding the newspaper and putting it on the table, next to his teacup.

“No trouble, sir.” You murmur humbly. 

“Try the tea while it's hot.” He ushers you to take a sip. “It is very good.”

You do so, taking small sips of your tea and observing him over the rim of the cup. He is dressed in a tracksuit and pants, the most informal you have ever seen him. He remains silent, simply sipping his tea and glancing outside the floor to ceiling windows of the breakfast area and out into the golf field.

Your mind starts running rampant.

He is here to tell you off right? You have seen it in dramas; he will hand you a stack of money and tell you to fuck off and leave his son alone. If he is more pissed, he might splatter that tea all over you. Or worse, what if he tells you that you are fired from Jeon Industries? Oh my god, how embarrassing it would be. What would you say to your colleagues?

Oh God help me.

Despite the downward spiral of your brain, you take notice of one thing. Chairman Jeon’s gaze is still trained outside the window, the look in his eyes tender and full of longing. Curious, you follow his line of sight and spot a group of people on the golf field. An elderly man dressed in a tracksuit, holding a golf stick while talking animatedly to an elderly woman, presumably his wife, dressed like him. Beside them stands a younger girl, smiling at whatever he says while carrying a toddler. The old man interacts with the child, playing with him before taking him in his arms and swinging him around. It looks like they are a family, the grandparents bonding with their grandchild, and then you understand the look in the Chairman’s eyes.

As if he can hear your thoughts, he suddenly says, “You know, all my life all I did was work. My father founded this company and it was upon me to bring us name and fame. From my twenties all I knew was work and outside of it, nothing existed. Not even my wife and my son who needed me.” He pauses, a quiet heavy sigh falling from his lips. His eyes, however, remain trained on the family outside.

“I have known nothing but my work so maybe that’s why I still show up at the office even though I am retired, like yesterday. I am trying to build a life outside of work now but that ship has sailed, no?” he juts his chin to the family. “I have no one to spend time with, no one to call family. Not a wife who will spend the rest of my time with me. Not even a handful of good friends. My business mindset made me burn the bridges I built and I lost the few friends I had. Instead, I made enemies. I made my company great and I made enough people jealous of who I am and what I achieved. But now that those days are no more and I am just a retired old man, it is hard being here alone when everyone my age is here to spend time with their family and friends.”

Heavy silence hangs in the air.

You continue looking at Chairman Jeon, your heart heavy with the weight of his words. He has not been a good father or a good husband, you know that from Wonwoo and others. He, however, has been a good boss and a good leader for the company. You want to voice out those words to improve the mood but there is a lump in your throat that leaves you voiceless, making it hard for you to utter a word of reassurance. 

He finally casts his eyes at you. “When he told me it was you I was very surprised. I took the entire day processing this information.”

You sit straighter and nod understandingly. “I am very sorry for lying to you, sir. It really was not my intention. Plus, I wasn’t seeing Wonwoo at that time. We…we were on a break, I guess.”

The chairman sips his tea, looking at you inquisitively. “It will not be wrong of me to assume that my son did something wrong, will it?”

You press your lips together and tuck your chin to your neck, looking at him sheepishly over your glasses.

He laughs, the sound coming out as half a scoff. “This is what worries me. I think Wonwoo is incapable of holding on to a woman like you.”

There is a pause and you decide to break it. “Wonwoo is a good man, sir. He has changed a lot since the first time I met him. I trust him now. I trust his capabilities and his decisions.”

“He definitely has changed,” he murmurs, taking another sip. “I still am worried. A father’s concern I suppose.” He pauses, glancing outside the window for a moment. 

“You are one of my most valuable employees, Miss ___. You’re an asset to the company and everyone agrees on this. You have handled all issues of my son with the utmost expertise and you have been a stellar employee. It’s just that…”

What? I’m not good enough to be your potential daughter-in-law? The chairman sighs, “I don’t trust my son. If this relationship fizzles out then you cannot just cut yourself off, can you? You will still be an employee here. And if you decide to leave…”

What? Is he worried that you will spill all the details, all the private information to someone else?

“Sir,” You begin, your voice steady and confident. “If you are worried about my loyalty then please know that it will not waver. Whatever the outcome of my relationship with Wonwoo is, I will continue to be an employee here. I assure you that my— our professional life will be separate from our personal one.”

Chairman Jeon regards you silently for a long while as if pondering your words before nodding his head thoughtfully. Then, he smiles. “You know, I have more faith in you than my own son. You have proven yourself capable many times…something that my son has yet to do.” His gaze in his eyes becomes unfocused as you see his mind trail off somewhere else. “Sometimes I wonder whether it was a good idea to make him the CEO so quickly.”

“Sir,” you begin carefully. “He is still young and very new to this entire thing. Give him some time to prove himself. Let him face the challenges so that he can overcome them by himself. I have faith in him, sir, and I think you should too. We need to cheer him on so he does not question himself.” You abruptly stop, your face heating up at the passion and the borderline annoyance in your tone. Too shy to meet his eyes, you hastily fix your glasses a take a sip of your tea to busy yourself.

Chairman Jeon who has been watching you rather fascinatedly breaks into an amused smile. “Hm, you are quite right.” He hums, his sharp eyes, so much like Wonwoo’s, set intensely on you. “Well then, I suppose I can only wish you well on your new journey. With your work and your relationship.”

“Thank you, sir.” You smile gratefully, your heart finally at ease and free of weight. He nods, glancing at his watch. “I have kept you for too long already. You will be late for office on your first day.” “It’s alright, sir.” You reply, truly meaning it. Sliding your bag over your shoulder you stand up. “It was lovely to spend time with you.”

“Go on now. I’ll see you around.” He ushers you away with his hands. You nod respectfully and take your leave. Taking only three steps away from the table, you stop and turn around, unable to hold back the words brewing in your mind.

“Sir?”

“Hm?” He glances up.

“You still have a family, you know. You still have Wonwoo.” You hold his gaze, speaking the words slowly and carefully. He remains mute, watching you with a gaze clouded by a thick haze. Of what, you don’t know.

Finally, he nods, a small, subtle shake of his head. With that, the corners of his lips upturn slightly, just ever so slightly but it is a smile nevertheless.

You smile back and walk away.

—

You head to Wonwoo’s office first thing after parking your car in the garage. 

Your heels click against the shiny floor as you walk down the hallway, stopping in front of Secretary Yu’s office. “Is Wo— CEO Jeon in?”

He nods, looking at you with a subtle frown. “Thanks.” You chirp and rush towards his room, entering after a quick knock. 

Wonwoo sits behind his desk, focused on his computer. The sound of the door opening makes him look up and surprise flutters across his face.

“Hey there, sweetheart.” He grins, rolling his chair back to stand up. “Came to see me first thing in the morning?” You only smile and hurry towards him, wrapping your arms around his waist and resting your head on his solid chest, a content sigh falling from your lips. “I just met your dad.” You mumble.

You feel him become tense. Gently holding your shoulders, he pries you from his body and looks at you with concern. “What? Why? Did he say something to you?”

You shake his head with a smile. “No. It was just a chat. He was very lovely. I think he approves of me.”

Wonwoo watches you, the concern on his face melting away. A bemused smile kisses his lips. “Is that why you are so happy?”

You nod with a smile and Wonwoo laughs softly. 

“You know,’’ you murmur thoughtfully. “Your father is quite nice after all.” He arches an amused brow.

You smile. “I’m just saying. You should give him another chance.”

“Wow. My girl is quite optimistic today, isn’t she?” 

You giggle, hugging him again. “I love you.” The words fall from your lips easily and naturally, like you have spoken them your entire life. “Let’s be happy together.”

You feel Wonwoo’s body relax, his hands coming to rest on the crown of your head, his fingers going through your hair. He presses a kiss on the top of your head and hugs you tighter. “We will be. I promise.”

Your chin rests right below his collarbone, your eyes peeking at his face with a doe eyed look. He kisses your lips, soft and sweet. “I love you. Always.” He whispers.

I love you.

That’s it. That’s the verdict. 

for a special epilogue click here and take a look at their future!

© startlightxsvt 2025 | All Rights Reserved. Do not copy, translate, adapt, or repurpose any of my works.

A/N: so, that is the end of our journey! when I tell you writing this was fun, I really mean it, esp this final part. i had a blast with this and i hope it was equally good for you guys. i am really looking forward to hear what you all thought of this entire series so please drop your thoughts in my ask box. as always like and share and have a lovely day!

on a separate note, i will not upload anything for the next month or so as i'm working on a huge vernon fic which i am VERY excited to share with you all. the teaser should come out in late feb/early march but nothing is set yet. still, i hope y'all anticipate it <33

[dcxdpdabbles]

I am feral for fake dating au and alley boyfriends goes so hard, I am on my hands and knees begging for a part 3

Tim's afternoon meeting gets canceled due to three of the members coming down with the flu. Usually, he would have just sent them a recording of what they missed, but since the three were presenting and the meeting was meant to be with the five department heads, he feels it would be best to reschedule.

There was only so much HR could report to him, after all. This meant he had the entire afternoon off.

Tim usually uses the free time he finds himself with to get a head start on other work. Maybe even some crake some cases. But today, he knew Danny was off from his job. His roommate was likely at home watching that new show he really got into.

Last night, he explained the entire plot over their dinner- Danny came from one of those families that always ate dinner at the same time- and went as far as to reveal fun facts he learned about the production team in charge of his show.

Tim didn't understand why Danny was so excited to know the lighting effects used only for a particular character. Nor did he find it as fascinating.

However, watching him get excitable was endearing enough that he listened to the whole thing. Then, he sat down to watch the show, finding it adorable that Danny couldn't stop speaking to the screen as if the characters could hear him.

Tim stares at his computer screen, trying his best to get himself to focus. The data sheets needed some work, but he had two weeks to complete it, and he really wasn't in the mood to verify so much work if he wasn't completely focused.

He glances at the clock, watching the little red hand tick. He insisted on having a face clock in his office instead of just having an electrical one because he found the ticking sound comforting.

Now, it merely annoyed him. That only happens when he's been trapped inside the office for too long or gone out as Red Robin so much he neglected his Tim Drake side. He could take the afternoon off, but what fun would that be?

He had also been trapped at home for a long time, working remotely whenever he could. Tim wanted to go out, but he didn't want to do that alone.

It would be so dull to just go to the same places on his lonesome as it would be sitting in his office or in his room. He could play video games or watch a movie with his roommate, but it wasn't the same of getting outside for a little while

His eyes landed on his cell phone. He could call Danny and ask if he wanted to go out today, but he had no idea what to do. He could take Danny shopping again- apparently, his roommate had no actual use for suits at his barista job, so the two had gone to the mall and gotten him some jeans and t-shirts, but the other seemed tired of that the last time.

Tim didn't want to spend money at the movies either because he wanted to do something active. The problem was that Danny hated spots with a passion and wasn't one for hiking or walking. They could go to a place to eat, but going out just for food wasn't something they could fill a whole afternoon with, not to mention Gotham's cold wave had most of the hang-out places closed until summer.

How hard was it to think of something to do in a city this big?

His eyes shift over to his computer before he caves. He quickly changes the docking station on his work computer to his personal laptop, eyes dancing between his two monitors.

He types into the search engine Where to take your roommate in Gotham City.. The first result is a list of locations, but Tim finds that they are all well-known tourist places, which is something he would rather avoid. He's just not up for a big crowd.

The following result is restaurants to try, which again isn't enough to fill the entire afternoon with- he notes to visit the ramen place because Danny mentioned he wanted to have some three days ago. He grows irritated with the similar lists he clicks until he stumbles across a new store that opened only a week ago.

It's new enough that most people don't know about it, which means they could enjoy a fun new activity since it is a random Tuesday.

Tim checks the store times, confirms that they could be there for a few hours and then reaches for his phone. Three taps later, a dull ringing sounds in his ear as he waits for Danny to answer.

Initially, he didn't want to go shopping, but he thought Danny would enjoy this shop more than any clothes store.

"Yellow?" Danny chirps in his ear, warm and bright. His voice reminds him of the comfortable nights when he's brewing Tim a lovely London Fog Late.

At once, Tim feels himself relaxed. "Hey, Danny. I have the afternoon off. I was wondering if you wanted to hang out?"

"Oh, sure! What do you want to do?"

Tim looks up at the screen. "How would you like to go to a place that lets you design your own succulent and offers an entire room filled with decorations to personalize it?

"I'll be ready in fifteen minutes!" Danny shouts the sound of crashes accompanying his voice as he likely leaps from the couch. "How expensive is it?"

"Oh, don't worry about that. I'll pay for everything." Tim tells Danny just as Tam and three interns wander into his office. He holds up a finger at them, listening to Danny loudly proclaim he wants to be the one to treat Tim.

It's sweet, but Tim had so much money he didn't know what to do. Danny was saving up to buy his own car- and the last time Tim offered to buy him one, his roommate had refused to make him the Red Robin Rush for a week.

"Don't worry about money, Danny. Just get dressed, and tonight, you can make it up to me the usual way." He says, feeling a slow, smug smile spread across his face as Danny rushes to the coffee station to check through the tea they had.

"I'll do something even better. It's a new trick I picked up, but it's guaranteed to keep you up all night." Danny tells him as he fumbles with his clothes- likely changing- which is loud enough to echo from his phone speakers. An intern shifts, uncomfortable on his feet.

Tam raises an impressed eyebrow, which, for some reason, makes Tim slightly embarrassed. His face turns a bit red as he hastily tells his roommate. "I should be picking you up in an hour."

"Wait, what do I wear for this? I will not repeat O'malley's."

Tim's face turns redder at the reminder of last week's blunder. It wasn't his fault that what he considered casual clothes were what Danny thought were formal. He told the man to meet him at the restaurant after work, not considering it upscale since it was only served dinner, and once again, Danny's outfit had him stopped at the door by a worker who didn't think he was dressed the part.

"Just wear that outfit I like. The blue one." He tells him about the black sweatshirt with blue stripes and a fluffy black and blue sweater. It was the warmest, most stylish thing Danny women meant for streetwear, and he knew it would be a bit chilly in the evening.

"Alright. See you soon. Text me when you are outside. Byeeeee"

"Bye," Tim hangs up and offers the three interns and impressed secretary a sheepish look. "Sorry about that. How can I help you?"

Tam steps forward, waving a hand at the two young men and single women older than him by a few years. They straighten up as his PA speaks. "I just wanted to introduce the interns that start tomorrow; it won't take more than five minutes if you have to be somewhere soon."

"It's lovely to meet you all. " Tim smiles, ignoring the wide-eyed stare the one on the left is giving him. The introductions don't take long at all, but Tim still feels restless when he grabs his coat and rushes past Tam's empty desk. He leaves a note on her desk telling her he took the afternoon off and practically skips down to the parking garage.

He is unaware of the rumors circulating among his employees after a particular intern on the left let it slip he overheard Mr. Drake talking to his lover like their relationship was....like that. He is even more unaware that the second he picks up Danny from the front of their building, five shadows break into his penthouse and search the place for any drugs.

He is too busy picking out crystals with his roommate, who babbles about their effects on ghosts, memorized by his silly random knowledge again.

Meanwhile, Bruce is horrified to find some green liquid in the second bedroom. He's not sure why Tim or Danny have to separate rooms if they truly are lovers, but the fact this was hidden in the room by the other boy gives Jason's idea of Tim living with his dealer aan uncomfortable amount of credit.

He returned a sample to the Cave when his other children reported nothing. They refrained from planting any bugs just because Tim would find them, and it would stop him from trusting them should they have to give him a proper introduction.

Upon conducting some tests, despite the similar appearance to the Lazarus pits, results showed it's closer to the formula of Mr. Freeze's ice ray but in liquid form.

Why would Fenton hide this? What was he up to? Did Tim know that Fenton had cut an entire part of the wall to hide jars and jars of this goo?

[thebiscuitlabryinth]

Healer Cookie has made a wonderful new friend recently.

He had been in an awful state when they first found him, already half crumbled, and even the miracle worker Healer worried he wouldn't be able to save him. But save him he had, and in exchange, his friend had insisted on staying with them for the foreseeable future. He trails after Healer and assits him in any way he can, very rarely peeling himself away from his side.

Healer thinks it's sweet, growing fond of his new near-constant companion. Black Raisin is not so convinced. She keeps telling him that she has a bad feeling about this newcomer, and she doesn't like the way he's stubbornly cozying up to Healer. Healer does his best to soothe her concerns, reasoning that the attachment stems from his friend's gratitude for his saved life, but he knows how fiercely protective of their village she can be, so it's difficult to dissuade her entirely.

At the very least, his new friend seems to not mind Black Raisin's wariness. In fact, he pays very little mind towards the village at large, busying himself with long conversations with Healer whenever possible.

Healer must admit, he finds his friend fascinating, his conversations engaging and illuminating. When Healer is busy tending to patients, his friend will tell swooping, glorious tales that bewitch the whole healing tent, and often Healer's patients will leave with a fresh appreciation for their new neighbour.

It's the conversations they have alone, however, that Healer finds most interesting. His friend has a tendency to ask the strangest questions out of nowhere, and give the most captivating explanations, with a certain weight to his words that seems to be otherwise absent when they are around anyone else. Questions such as:

"Do you know what a Soul Jam is?" His friend, Plain Yogurt Cookie, asks casually, somewhere across the tent. Healer can hear the lazy flipping of paper.

Healer pauses, caught off guard by the immediate question after just stepping into the tent. He considers it for a moment; the name rings a very faint bell, but he can't actually pin it down to anything in his memory, so he shakes his head. "No, I don't think so. Why do you ask?"

He walks towards the sound of Plain Yogurt's voice with the aid of his staff, reaching out his free hand and making a small grabbing motion. There's the sound of shuffling before a tepid hand meets him halfway, cold fingers curling around his as Plain Yogurt pulls him to sit beside him on the thin bedroll. Healer can do this by himself, really, but Plain Yogurt always insists on helping, so it has become routine by now, to offer his hand and let him lead.

"A Soul Jam is a manifestation of incredible, unimaginable power and eternal life." Plain Yogurt explains as Healer settles at his side, gingerly laying his staff down on the floor. "There are five, and they originally belonged to five great heroes, who were given them by the Witches themselves. But the Witches are fickle beings. They cruelly snatched the Soul Jams back from the five great heroes on a whim and declared them unworthy, even though the Soul Jams had only ever been theirs."

Healer gasps, fully engaged with his friend's unspooling story even though it was sprung on him so suddenly. "Why? What did those five heroes do?"

"Nothing that warranted what they got. Their Soul Jams, the very core of their being, stripped away and them, cast into a suffocating Silver Tree in a faraway continent, sentenced to an eternal imprisonment!" There's grit in Plain Yogurt's voice that widens into a growl, oozing with a bitter anger. He must have some very passionate opinions on this story, because Healer hasn't heard him quite that rough before. "The betrayal! The injustice!"

"How awful." Healer comments sympathetically, nodding his head in agreement. "It sounds like a terribly unfair fate."

"It does, doesn't it?" Plain Yogurt clears his throat, and his voice smooths back out to its usual silky-sweet quality. "But that's not the important part. You see, the Soul Jams were broken apart by the Witches, and their purest parts were scattered across the realm, waiting to be found by the thieves that would become their new holders."

"Ah, so the Soul Jams are still out there somewhere?" Healer guesses, assuming this tale is something of a legendary mystery.

Plain Yogurt lets out a little hum. "Well, yes, but not quite. Actually, the Soul Jams have already found their new holders, but disaster struck and they disappeared in the aftermath." He shifts, leaning closer to whisper to Healer, a smile sneaking into his low tone. "One in particular, the holder of the Light of Truth, fell into a deep slumber, spending his days in a dreamlike haze of ignorance." He leans even closer, and Healer shudders as his breath gently caresses his dough, turning to face him. "Have you really never heard this story before?"

Healer sucks in a shallow breath and, on impulse, clumsily reaches a hand up, searching for Plain Yogurt's face. He gets stopped halfway, his wrist snared in a frigid grip, tight enough to startle him.

"...What are you doing?" Plain Yogurt's voice has lost its playfulness, as cold as his hands. Healer's stomach twists with shame. Plain Yogurt freely and frequently touches him, but Healer has already realised that he does not appreciate the same being done to him. He prefers to initiate, or otherwise lead the contact.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to upset you." Healer offers, ducking his head with an awkward little chuckle. "I wasn't thinking very deeply. You were just so close, and I suddenly wanted to take a look at you."

Take a look, of course, is meant metaphorically here. Healer just wants to feel Plain Yogurt's face, to remember its shape, they both understand that. But Plain Yogurt responds like it was meant literally anyway, his grip on Healer's wrist loosening to something more gentle as he sighs, "You're not completely blind, are you? If you took those bandages off, it would be way easier to get an idea of my face."

Healer has never mentioned the degree of his visual impairment to his friend, so he isn't sure where he got this idea from, but he doesn't focus on that. He can't, because the idea of taking his bandages off and opening his eyes strikes him with a dark dread, anxiety wriggling to life in his chest.

"No, I can't." He says firmly, shaking his head. He doesn't know why, but he knows that he really can't bear to do it, a possible danger that he doesn't want to risk.

Plain Yogurt is quiet for a moment that stretches and snaps, the only evidence that he is still there being the chill of his hand loosely around Healer's wrist. Then, he snorts, tumbling into a poorly stifled laugh. "Awfully eager to hide from the Truth, aren't you?"

Healer doesn't get a chance to fully process his mutter, layered beneath his laugh, before Plain Yogurt distracts him by grabbing both of his hands. Tucked underneath Plain Yogurt's palms, Healer's hands are guided to his face. Healer exhales, carefully spidering his fingers out to feel the contours, the short curling ends of his icing hair. Plain Yogurt's cheeks are lukewarm, just like the rest of him.

"Do you think you deserve the Soul Jam?" Plain Yogurt asks quietly, as abruptly as all his other questions. Healer can feel his lips move against the edge of his hand with each syllable.

Healer thinks about it, slightly confused by this hypothetical question but willing to entertain it. His hands go slack, satisfied with its acquaintance with Plain Yogurt's face and ready to return to his lap, but Plain Yogurt keeps them pressed to his cheeks. Healer doesn't complain, instead letting out a little chuckle.

"...No, I don't think so. If that power really is as incredible as you say, I doubt I would be suitable to wield it. Though," Healer's voice trails off for a second, turning wistful, "with it, I'm sure I would be able to help much more Cookies."

Plain Yogurt makes a noise of acknowledgement, before tilting his head – Healer knows, can feel it through his hands. "And what about me?" He asks, with an odd intensity. "Do you think I deserve the Soul Jam?"

This answer comes easier. Healer smiles, "More than me, at the very least."

Plain Yogurt doesn't reply immediately, but somehow, Healer can feel his gaze drilling into him, along with a dozen others, and he sits a little straighter under the scrutiny.

The tension bursts like a bubble as Plain Yogurt starts laughing, loud enough to fill the entire little tent, shaking its secure foundations. Healer's hands are finally released, and he folds them neatly in his lap. He enjoys the sound of Plain Yogurt's laughter, though he doesn't know what exactly is so funny.

Eventually, the laughter winds down, ending with a huff as Plain Yogurt slumps over against him, resting their heads against each other. Healer startles in surprise, but quickly relaxes into it, sitting still to avoid jostling his friend too much.

They sit there in comfortable silence, the sounds of the rest of the villagers tapering out as the night begins to creep in.

"...Have I ever told you about the Spire?" With their heads together like this, it feels like Plain Yogurt whispers directly into Healer's mind. His tone makes it clear that he knows he never has, the question rhetorical.

Healer answers anyway. "No, I don't think so. What spire are you talking about?"

"My Spire." Plain Yogurt replies simply, a smirk carrying his words. He begins to gesture dramatically with the arm not pressed against Healer's side - he can tell by the sudden jostling. "It's an absolute marvel, I tell you! Its' peaks are as tall as the sky itself, stuck in a perpetual night. There's the Yogurt River, and the blueberry bushes, and the apple trees in the courtyard. There are rooms by the dozen, and staircases that lead nowhere and everywhere, and cards that come alive. A place of splendorous chaos, holding the secrets of the universe!"

Whimsical pride plumps Plain Yogurt's voice, and that alone is enough to make Healer smile as he continues to describe the majesty of his Spire in excited, hushed tones against the end of Healer's brow.

Awe warms Healer like a hearth along with a spark of shame as he finally gets the chance to murmur back, "That sounds like an impressive place. Confusing, but impressive."

"Right?" Plain Yogurt grins. "Much better than this old dump, anyway."

Healer's smile stutters slightly. "Well, we all do our best with what we have here." He defends, voice steady, pulling away just a little. "If you have a place like that to return to, why haven't you? You sound very fond of it, and you've recovered enough to travel at length again."

"What, do you not want me here anymore?" Plain Yogurt teases, with an audible pout.

Healer sighs, shoulders relaxing again. "No, of course not. I like your company, but I really am curious."

"Mmm, I wonder. Maybe there's something keeping me here." Plain Yogurt suggests with a mockingly singsong lilt to his voice, one that isn't quite familiar to Healer. Healer jolts as Plain Yogurt's arm sneaks up around him, pulling him back into his side, but his head falls comfortably into the crook of his shoulder anyway. Plain Yogurt's short, soft curls brush against the side of his face, cushioning him.

"One day, I'll take you to my Spire, my dear." Plain Yogurt says in a low, strange tone, burbling like a pot about to boil over, and it is both a gentle promise and a threat of some kind.

"That sounds nice." Healer means it, even though he knows he doesn't plan to leave the village any time soon. Not when there are Cookies here who need his miracle healing.

Healer is not stupid. Though he sometimes find it a little unncessary, the villagers call him the Wise One for a reason. He understands Black Raisin's wariness of his new friend in particular.

Plain Yogurt is hiding something, and probably something big. Healer doesn't need to see him to know that when it is clear enough in his crafted voice. Besides, the state of their little village is not an enviable one. No traveller would want to stay past their strained welcome, especially not one who has somewhere as magnificent as that spire supposedly waiting for them.

But, regardless of whatever secrets Plain Yogurt may have, Healer doesn't believe he's malicious. He treats him too gently for that, his cold fingers cradling his hand every time he insists on helping. And his stories, told in such a lively tone, are always able to lift his patients' spirits. Why would he bother with all that, if he truly had ill intent?

No, Plain Yogurt can't be malicious, so Healer sees no reason to force his secrets out of him. If they continue bonding, they will surely surface eventually.

And if Healer is somehow wrong about this, if he really is malicious, then... well, it's better this way. Better for his attention and potential wrath to be focused entirely on him. Healer can take the brunt of it to protect the rest of the village, and it would be perfectly fair, since he had been the one to advocate for Plain Yogurt to be allowed to stay in the first place.

Ah, Black Raisin would be upset with him if she heard him say that, but it's true enough, isn't it?

That won't happen, anyway. Plain Yogurt is suspicious, definitely, and knows something Healer doesn't, but that is not an inherently dangerous thing.

For now, they can sit cuddled together on this thin bedroll and enjoy each other's company. Healer has no need for the past he doesn't remember, nor the future he can't see.

All he needs is this present, cozy in the fledgling night with his friend's lazily hummed melody coiling around him like a musical snake.

[next]

[ohhiimweird]

HSR Characters I think would be attracted to Morons aka Moronsexual

These are all my headcanons. I mostly think these are funny and I was thinking about the Dan Heng fic I wrote not too long ago.

I'm also not calling you stupid as an insult. It's an astute observation/ j

Dan Heng

The more I think about this. The funnier it gets. You asked him what Obama's last name was, and now he dreams of kissing you in the moonlight of whatever planet or space station you're on. Those intertwine with his nightmares. It's like tonal whiplash for him. Also, because you're a complete and utter buffoon, you don't overthink his whole dragon identity very much. In a way, being around a stupid person lets him be himself. Yes, he does have to explain something to you five times, but it's okay. He loves those big, bright eyes without a thought behind them.

Sunday

He mourns the fact that he's attracted to a dumbass. "No. Ena. Fuck. WHY?!" he yells to the heavens. However, he is also fascinated by you. For all his life, Sunday has been monitored and groomed to be the perfect family head. Perfection was the blueprint for his life. You were one of the furthest things from that. That's why he's so drawn to you. In a way, you've inspired him to find beauty in his imperfections himself. Maybe. Just maybe. He can entertain that thought.

Kafka

You're both like Roger and Jessica Rabbit. Kafka is a cool, calm, collected, and sexy woman. You are the goofy, loveable dumbass she fell for. I can see her looking at you fondly while Silver Wolf trolls you in a racing game by hacking your controller. You don't notice anything, unobservant as you are. Truly, Kafka has felt something resembling a spark of joy whenever she sees you. That's something she hasn't felt in a long time.

I can go into drabbles to expand on this. This is funny to me.

[linddzz]

I intended to write out ONE scene for the early days of Team Hextech, but these dweebs completely derailed me into an entirely different scene by establishing nicknames.

So here's a teaser of sorts for the wider fic @amahhi and I are working on, which is going to be snapshots through their years together and also a way for me to shove every Jayvik meta I have into one manifesto.

Stage 1: let me sell you on the whole nickname thing with Academy Dorks. Pure pre-relationship fluff and dork4dork energy. Nothing bad is ever gonna happen to these cuties.

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

It is surprising, how easily things come together.

Surprising in how Viktor has now been around Jayce Talis for over 72 hours (it is currently at 79) and he has, at no point, felt an urge to knock Jayce out with a sharp swing to the back of the head so that Viktor could have a moment to himself. Surprising in the fact that he is not actually surprised by this. Nothing could surprise him now, when the euphoria fills his veins like nothing he's known before. 

There is the magic. Of course there's the magic. The blue glow like a lightning flash caught behind his eyes and burned forever into his mind. There could not be anything but the magic now. Yet it was everything else that came with the magic as well. The freshly assigned lab that is, truthfully, hardly more than an old office with the furniture shoved out of it. The chalkboard being pilfered from the library in the middle of the night, because the single pathetic one the lab came with was a joke. 

There is Jayce. Jayce, who is the magic, the spark, the surge of life and energy. Jayce laughing in little hitched noises that his stifling only turns into absurd wheezing, because they couldn't fit the stolen chalkboard out of the library at first, not until Viktor made him knock the whole thing over so they could remove the wheels. Which, of course, had to be put back on immediately after they got the thing through the doors.

"We're going to end up exiled anyway after this." Jayce whispered far too loudly, sitting on the wet stone of the Academy courtyard, fully illuminated by a street lamp to screw the wheels back on because Viktor's flashlight flickered dark after five minutes.

"Fine." Viktor hisses back, "at least we will have an actual chalkboard." Which is a nothing statement, but it makes Jayce curl in on himself with another fit of little hiccuping giggles, so that's alright.

"I don't think they'll let us take the board, V."

That causes Viktor to pause for approximately half a second, considering. "Is that a nickname?"

The little hitching laughs stop, which is a shame. Jayce clears his throat and goes back to tightening the wheel in place. "Uh. I guess? Sorry, is that ok?"

"You misunderstand. I've never been given a nickname before." Viktor taps his fingers on his cane, looking up at nothing as he examines how he feels about getting his first nickname.

"Oh yeah?" He can't tell if Jayce is secretly pitying him or not, but it doesn't sound like he is. "What do you think of it?"

Viktor tilts his head one way, and then another, feeling his face pull into a grimace. He doesn't want to accidentally hurt Jayce's feelings, but he does not think that insincerely given adoration of the nickname would be a good early mark for the relationship. 

He intends on keeping himself in Jayce's life for however long his own lasts, by any means necessary. It's going to be a learning curve, figuring out how to have someone like him for that long, but he doesn't think lying or even stretching the truth is how he should accomplish this goal.

"Woah," Jayce says, and when Viktor looks down the other man is sitting, ass still fully on the wet paving stones, staring up at Viktor with sincere fascination and the beginnings of a grin. "You really hate that, huh?"

"No." He doesn't. Which he doesn't realize until he says so, but it's true, he doesn't hate it. "I am still deciding, don't rush me."

"Don't tell me you're grading my nicknames, V." Jayce huffs, and he shuffles himself through a puddle to get the last wheel on the last leg of their stolen goods. "I'm gonna have a panic attack over nicknames. And then I'm gonna have nightmares about the fact that I had a panic attack over a nickname, instead of over stealing Academy property. Hey. How come I've done more crimes in three days with you than I ever had in my life?"

"That seems like it is your problem." Viktor points out, leaning with both hands on his cane now, watching some curls of mist under the street lamp as he continues mulling over his first nickname. It's been given to him by Jayce Talis, who gave Viktor magic and who is now soaking his ass on the ground so that Viktor can have a better chalkboard. It seems a small price to pay.

"Yes." He decides, nodding. "It's fine."

"That sounds like one ringing endorsement."

"You wanted my opinion. Honestly? It eh, lacks creativity."

"What did I say about grading my nicknames?"

"Plural? No no, you get one."

"Hardass." Jayce grumbles, pulling first himself and then the chalkboard back up with little effort. Which is impressive, as it is not a small board. "What about me?"

"Hm?" Viktor is already moving, tugging the board around to make sure the wheels are all even.

"Come on, fair's fair. What's my nickname?" 

When Viktor looks up - intending to point out that making a nickname for a name which is already a single syllable is counterintuitive - Jayce is at the other end of the board, grinning a blinding and crooked grin. His hair is a mess, with the mist depositing little gleaming drops of diamonds against the black. There's an eagerness, nearly a hunger, in his bright hazel eyes as he waits for Viktor's nickname. All of that, beaming at him from the other side of the board that Jayce agreed to steal at an obscene hour of the night for him. There are dimples.

"Lásko." He says, as naturally as a heartbeat, as easily as blinking. It's hardly a revelation for him. Viktor has already spent 77 of the past 79 hours reconfiguring his ideological stances on the concept of soulmates. 

Jayce snorts, his grin falling, but not into a shocked disgust or even displeasure at the foreign sound. Instead, he sets his formidable jawline forward and pouts.

"I want a do over. That sounds so much cooler." He groans.

Ask me what it means. 

Scratch that. Do not ask me that. However long one is supposed to wait before saying love, I am sure that I am under that mark. 

"No do overs. Even I know that about nicknames."

"You don't make the nickname rules! You never even had one before!"

"No do overs."

"Ok! Fine! Congrats on being stuck with V!"

[klausysworld]

Triggering, lots of murder. Y/N is basically a psychopath/serial killer (I watch too much TV)

Unlikely Love

Klaus was attracted to her darkness. The cold look in her eyes when someone said something she didn't like, it was like he knew she was something else.

Following her wasn't easy, she always seemed to know if someone was looking at her for any longer than five seconds, she'd caught his gaze too many times and she never looked impressed.

Still, Klaus had the advantage of being supernatural, his speed abilities made good use in hiding from her view. Which was how he learnt that she was more a monster than he thought.

Seeing her plunge a blade straight down into a begging mans chest, her eyes finally full of life as if the kill made her thrive. He shouldn't have been as turned on as he was.

Klaus often found human killers fascinating.

As a vampire, a creature of the night or a werewolf, it was instinctual to hunt and kill but a human? Was it natural to routinely take life after life, brutally and uncaringly?

A vampire was scary because it was wired to need blood but a human like her was worse because she didn't need it, she wanted it and she liked it. Enjoyed it even.

He would watch her ritual often, she had a type. Misogynistic men usually.

"A little ironic don't you think?" She'd ask her latest victim, blade in hand ready as her fingers stroked the steel. "A woman gave you life, and now a woman will take it away." Her tone was always mocking and amused, her smile deepening as the man was splutter false apologies and promises to be better if she let him live. "I would but...gosh I'm just so emotional as a woman that I can't even control myself." She'd whisper dramatically, ignoring his change in mood and the vial curses he'd scream at her before the sharp pain would shock his body and mind into silence.

Klaus could see the peace wash over her at the quiet.

Something about seeing her splattered by blood, painted with her work, it was ethereal. He loved it.

There was a certain thrill of guessing who she'd choose next, who was worthy of her wrath.

Sometimes he would fantasise her choosing him, restraining him and stabbing him with such a delicious force that he wouldn't be able to contain his moans.

Klaus had lost his mind years ago and so seeing her like this so young was peculiar, it had taken him centuries to enjoy the kill.

When it became apparent that he actually wanted her attention, he decided to make a move and invite her to his family ball. He gave her a dress, the fabric as deep a red as the blood in his veins and tucked beneath the material was a gorgeous dagger, from him to her. Klaus knew it would make her turn up.

He appeared behind her as she entered the building, his hand finding her hip and leading her further inside.

"I'm glad you came, my love." He confessed to her, she didn't yet look up at him but he didn't mind.

"What do you want?" She asked, not amused by his efforts.

"You." He told her, finally gaining the attention from her hollow eyes.

"I don't think you understand me as well as you think you do." She murmured to him, her voice low so others were oblivious to the conversation.

"I know what you are." He whispered back, his eyes eager and full of a desire she couldn't reciprocate.

"Then you should know that I will never care for you. Never be attracted to you. You could die now and it wouldn't effect me in the slightest." She concluded and he hummed, not really bothered by the fact.

"Doesn't make me want you less, my love. But don't worry, I won't force myself on you, I wouldn't want to be tied up and killed now would I?" He grinned and she narrowed her gaze.

"Something tells me that you very much would want that." She replied and he chuckled, knowing she was absolutely right.

"Dance with me, despite your lack of emotions, you might not hate it." He enticed and took her hand, guiding her along to the main floor where others already lifted and spun each other around effortlessly.

It wasn't long before Klaus had her in similar positions, hands holding her waist and twirling her around his home until a little smile crept onto her crimson lips.

Once the night came to an end and guests began filtering out, he brought her to his art room. She ran her fingers over the tormented paintings of his mind.

Klaus was able to present death in a way that even non-broken people would find beautiful. For Y/N there was no way to explain the tranquility that his art possessed.

She wasn't bothered by the paintings of her own naked skin drenched in blood, sprawled out in ways only his demented mind could fathom.

"I can't tell if you want to have sex with me or kill me." She told him and he laughed.

"Whichever you'd prefer, my love." He grinned and she shook her head.

"You should know that I'm not unfamiliar with what you are, nor am I unfamiliar with white oak." She informed and he hummed, knowing she was as smart as he if not more so.

"Should I start crying in the corner?" He teased and her eyes rolled.

"It's late, I need to be home." She announced as she tucked his art back into a folder and turned for the door.

"Your home, or a victims?" He questioned, following her out with a smile on his face.

"My home. Unfortunately I have to sleep, otherwise I'm a little sloppy which causes too many chances."

"Of course, well at least allow me to walk you if not drive you home." He offered and she accepted, knowing arguing would be pointless and so let the hybrid drive her home and let her slip away into her own darkness.

Klaus took entertainment in following her, letting her see him every now and then as if to purposely piss her off. She'd always glance to where he was after the tip of the dagger he'd gifted her was buried inside the man on her table.

She didn't understand his attraction to her, she wasn't sure if it made him worse than her or better for at least being able to have those feelings.

Y/N hadn't had sex before, it wasn't something she was interested in. She didn't feel romantically for anybody and she barely liked anybody's company so the opportunity never came up so it was a little confusing when she had a very explicit dream of Klaus taking her roughly against the table that she usually killed people on.

It turned out that Klaus planted the dream, based off of his own fantasies and what he thought she might enjoy, he didn't realise she'd never even considered sex with anybody.

So she wasn't exactly impressed when he kissed her, hand holding the back of her neck and tongue running along her bottom lip.

She bit his tongue, hard, thinking he'd pull away but he only groaned and seemingly melted into her. Her eyes rolled and she kissed him back, tasting his blood and his tongue as her eyes remained open and looked at his closed ones. The way his lashes brushed the apples of his cheeks. When his bright blue eyes fluttered open to look at her, he was a little started to see her dead ones staring back at his. He let his lips detach from hers and slid his hand round to her cheek.

"You don't feel anything at all, do you?" He whispered and she blinked, unsure of what to say because actually, in that split second of looking at him then, she did feel something.

"I guess not." She shrugged and he hummed.

"Was it unpleasant?" He asked.

"Not particularly." She told him and he nodded.

"So we could do it again?" He questioned and she shrugged again.

"I guess."

So they did. Klaus would kiss her because he liked her, enjoyed her and it sated his own beast and Y/N would kiss him back because she wanted to see if she could feel that little spark again.

Klaus would chuckle when he saw her staring straight at him again. "You're supposed to close your eyes, my love. Here, try it." He told her and pulled her back for another kiss and this time she took his advice and closed her eyes. She felt that spark again, a flicker of warmth.

His hand brushed up along her thigh, fingers gently squeezing as his tongue wrapped around hers. Klaus knew not to push it too far and so pulled away after a few minutes and wrapped his arm around her waist and listened to her soft sigh as their gazes drifted back to the dead body on the table across from them.

"I'm hungry." She mumbled and he suppressed a laugh.

"I'll buy you dinner." He told her and she shrugged, accepting his hand and going with him to the closest restaurant.

They became an interesting pair. People assumed they were a regular couple. Even his family knew they were together but couldn't exactly pinpoint what was 'wrong' with them but they could tell something was off.

Probably wouldn't have guessed power serial killing couple. The type Love Quinn probably envisioned or Hannah Mckay.

It was definitely what Klaus envisioned anyway.

Especially when she was laid against his chest, in his bed, watching horror films with him. His fingers had been lazily tracing patterns along her thighs, his head resting against hers.

Y/N's body reacted without her really realising. Klaus only knew when the sweet scent of her arousal filled his nose. His eyes focused a little more and his tongue darted to wet his lips.

Y/N was barely paying him any mind as he turned, his body pressing to her side so that his hard on was nudging her hip and thigh. His lips kissed her neck and she let him be, assuming he was in an affectionate mood like he seemed to get after a kill. She was more interested in the film than how the hyrbid humped at her leg.

It was only when he let out a groan that she snapped back into real time and looked down to see him grinding on her with his eyes shut and mouth open.

Y/N blinked blankly at him before hesitantly patting his back, trying to offer...anything to help him as he bucked his hips. She thought that would be it but her touch seemed to encouraged him to slide his hand up between her legs, his fingers stroking over the fabric of her panties beneath the skirt he had bought her.

That was when she grabbed him, his cock specifically and not very kindly.

"Ah- Fuck!" He yelled and grabbed her throat roughly, pining her down as he shoved her hand off him and held himself between the legs, a breath of pain leaving his lips. "What on earth was that for?" He growled at her and she glared, in a second he felt a sharp stab in his side and looked down to see the dagger lodged inside him. His rage built as he stared back at her, he wanted to hurt her but there was this little flicker in her eyes. She didn't hurt him out of enjoyment, she did in defense.

He let go of her neck and moved to lay back down, letting her pull the blade out of him with a grunt as she slipped it back away out of sight. He wrapped his arm back around her and pulled her back to his side.

"Next time, just say you don't like it." He muttered and she scoffed.

"Why did you ever think that I would?" She snapped and he rolled his eyes.

"Sweetheart, I wouldn't have tried to touch your pretty little cunt if I couldn't smell her begging for me." He told her and her face flushed as she frowned and reached her hand down, touching herself with confusion and looking at the wetness that coated her fingers. Klaus's eyes darted down to see the way they glistened, his heart thumping in his chest as he hesitantly lowered his head to lick them clean.

An inaudible sound left Y/N when he did so and he felt her fingers push further into his mouth, encouraging him to suck.

Slowly he pulled off her hand and looked up at her eyes. For once they weren't completely dead. She finally kissed him first.

He pulled her onto his lap, giving her the advantage she needed and letting her be on top. But it wouldn't be enough. He realised that when her hands clutched his wrists tightly, nails dug into his skin until he could smell his own blood.

"Wait..." He mumbled and pulled his hands away, reaching down and unbuckling his belt, pulling it off and pushing the leather into her hands before holding his wrists together. She glanced between his wrists, the belt and his eyes a few times before slowly tightening the belt around them, pulling it so that he couldn't move them at all.

He let her guide his arms over his head and to the headboard, keeping them there as she lifted her shirt over her head and unclasped her bra.

His jaw ticked at the sight of her firm breasts on display but he had no time to appreciate them as she removed her skirt and underwear, her soft pussy finally close to him. His heart pounded but he stayed silent as she pulled his henley off and tugged his jeans down alongside his boxers.

She didn’t hardly look at his cock, not that interested in the sight of it.

Instead she just got herself on top of him like she had in the dream he'd given her and sunk down onto him. Klaus groaned loudly whilst her face twisted in discomfort and uncertainty. She sat on him quietly for a moment before he came to and looked down.

"It's okay, just move your hips a little bit to start." He told her, voice softer then she'd heard it.

Her body moved like he'd suggested, her cunt getting the friction it had secretly desired for the longest time making her moan involuntarily. Klaus grinned, watching her get the hang of it and rock her hips until her eyes were fluttering and her back was arching.

"You like that, my love?" He whispered and she nodded, her nipples brushing his bare chest as she bounced on his lap. "I want to touch you." He murmured, his fingers twitching but her head shook.

"No." She told him firmly and he moaned quietly at her tone and obeyed, adjusting his arms up above his head. There was something about her then, feeling her pussy squeezing so good and dripping so much as her tits pushed against him and her head was back. She was finally feeling something really good. Whether it was emotional or just physical, she still loved the feel of it and of him.

So they did it again, and again and again. All the time.

Klaus was convinced he'd died and gone to heaven. Being able to kill people with approval, to have someone as crazy as he was and have mind-blowing sex 24/7? He'd only wished he'd found her sooner.

Klaus started finding more people for her to kill, wanted to see her all bloody so he could lick it off her as he rutted his hips into her from behind.

The hybrid had developed intense feelings for Y/N, he cared for her truly. He started really loving her and showing it and she showed him similar things back.

They went on dates, they celebrated each other's birthdays and their one year anniversary. She started to know him, give him things, tokens of appreciation.

She touched him, not always sexually but softly and gently as if she cared for him too.

But they weren't the same. Klaus wasn't evil from young, she was. He had deep routed feelings, she didn't.

He should have thought of that some more before falling in love.

Because when it came down to him or her, a dagger against her heart and the white oak against his...he loved her too much to kill her first.