#and they try to live and navigate this new world

[thequeenofneverland1]

Being the Granddaughter of Oh Il-nam and the wife of the Front Man Would Include

Anonymous Request: hi can you do a headcannon of Being the Granddaughter of Oh Il-nam and the Wife of the Front Man Would Include please and thank you!!

You were deeply involved in the creation of the Squid Game, working alongside your grandpa.

Some of the iconic games, especially the more psychologically challenging ones, were your ideas. “What do you think about this, Grandpa? Imagine the fear when they realize the glass could break beneath them.” Your grandpa chuckled, patting your shoulder. “You’re as sharp as I hoped you’d be. This one will keep them on their toes.”

You first noticed the man when he participated in the games.

Although you only saw him through the screens, his determination and strategic mind stood out to you. “Player 132 is different,” you mused, watching him survive yet another round. “He’s not just playing to win. he’s observing, planning.” Your grandpa nodded beside you. “Those are the qualities of a survivor. Let’s see if he has what it takes.”

When he emerged as the winner, you were impressed and curious. Your grandpa invited him for a private meeting. “You didn’t just win the game; you conquered it,” your grandpa said, offering him a drink.” He glanced at the two of you cautiously. “I survived because I had no other choice. What do you want from me now?” Your grandpa smiled. “To give you a choice. Join us, and I’ll show you a world you could never imagine.”

Your grandpa made him his right-hand man for the following game, a decision that surprised you. Why him?” you asked your grandpa. “He’s new to all of this.” That’s exactly why,” your grandpa replied. “He sees things we don’t. Watch and learn, my dear.”

During the next game, you and he spent more time together as you helped him adjust to his new role. You’re surprisingly calm for someone thrown into all this,” you said one evening, handing him a report. He smirked. “And you’re surprisingly warm for someone who helps create these games.”

After working together for months, the bond between you grew stronger, and he finally decided to confess his feelings. “Can I ask you something?” he said one evening as you walked together near the game facility.” You glanced at him. “What’s on your mind?”He hesitated, running a hand through his hair. “I know this world we’re in isn’t exactly normal, but… I like you. A lot. Would you be my girlfriend?”You smiled, feeling warmth in a life otherwise filled with coldness. “I thought you’d never ask. Yes, I will.”

Your grandpa’s passing was sudden, leaving both of you to navigate the aftermath. He wanted you to lead this,” you told him, holding back tears. “He believed in you.”He looked at you, his expression conflicted. “I don’t know if I can live up to that.”

When He Became the Front Man “Are you ready to take the responsibility?” You asked he donned the mask for the first time. “Of course I am and having you by my side. We will be unstoppable.” 

Despite the darkness surrounding your lives, he proposed to you in one of the rare quiet moments He reached into his pocket, pulling out a ring. “I don’t have much to offer except this life we’ve built. Will you marry me?” Tears filled your eyes as you nodded. “Yes. I’ve already chosen this life with you. might as well make it official.”

Married life in your world was unlike anything normal couples experienced. You worked side by side, overseeing the games while trying to keep some semblance of normalcy.

As your marriage went on working together to create new games, each more elaborate and psychological than the last. “What about a game that tests loyalty?” you suggested one evening. “Make them choose between saving themselves or someone else.” He nodded thoughtfully. “Cruel, but effective. That’s why I need you. always one step ahead.”

The next game began, and together you implemented new challenges, ensuring they would be more psychological and intense than ever. “This one will push them to their limits,” you said, reviewing the game plan. He nodded, looking at your mask and his. “They’ll either survive or break. That’s the point.”

[growthhyp]

The Garage Sale III

Aiden stumbled through the bustling college quad, his oversized backpack digging into his bony shoulders. His eyes remained glued to the screen of his phone, navigating the digital labyrinth of his latest coding assignment. The mid-afternoon sun cast a stark contrast on the concrete jungle around him, highlighting the stark difference between the vibrant life of the school and his own monochrome existence. He was a creature of solitude, a black-haired, bespectacled ghost weaving through the throngs of chattering students and athletes. His skin, a rich, deep brown, almost seemed to absorb the light, making him even more invisible amidst the sea of faces.

As he approached the library, Aiden felt the familiar knot in his stomach tighten. It was the same feeling he got every time he knew Abe was nearby. The ginger behemoth was a constant thorn in his side, a living embodiment of everything Aiden was not: brawny, brash, and basking in the adoration of his peers. The jock's laughter, booming and obnoxious, echoed through the air like a siren's call, and Aiden's heart quickened as he tried to stealthily navigate past the group of muscle-bound football players. But fate, it seemed, had other plans.

"Hey, look what the cat dragged in!" Abe's voice sliced through the din, and a wall of testosterone parted to reveal him. He towered over Aiden, his bulging biceps stretching the fabric of his crimson jersey. Aiden felt his cheeks flush as he looked up into the jock's piercing blue eyes. A cruel smirk played on Abe's lips as he stepped closer, casting a shadow over the smaller man.

"What's up, geek?" Abe sneered, his breath hot and minty against Aiden's cheek. "Still playing on that little toy of yours?" He snatched the phone from Aiden's trembling hand, glancing at the screen with feigned interest before tossing it back with a chuckle. "You should come watch me practice sometime. Maybe you'll learn how to be a man."

Aiden's stomach churned, but he clenched his fists and took a deep breath. "I've got better things to do," he muttered, trying to regain his composure. The phone screen cracked slightly when it hit the ground, and Aiden winced. That was a new low, even for Abe. He bent down to retrieve it, his heart racing.

"What's the matter, Aiden?" Abe's smirk grew wider. "You don't like watching real men at work?" His friends, a pack of equally burly athletes, roared with laughter. Aiden's cheeks burned with humiliation. He had to get out of here, now. He straightened up and looked Abe in the eye, his voice quivering. "I've got a class to get to."

Abe stepped aside, feigned disappointment etched on his face. "Too bad," he said, slapping Aiden's back hard enough to make him stumble. "Some other time, I guess." The group of jocks jeered as Aiden scurried away, the echo of their laughter following him into the library's welcoming silence.

Once inside, Aiden found refuge in the quiet embrace of the computer lab, his sanctuary from the world outside. He slumped into his chair, his heart still pounding in his chest. Being Abe's roommate was a living nightmare. They had been randomly paired by the school's housing system, and the irony wasn't lost on Aiden. The jock's boisterous energy and alpha-male posturing clashed violently with his own introverted nature, leaving him feeling like a caged animal in his own room. Aiden's only solace was his computer, the digital world his escape from the relentless barrage of insults and pranks that Abe subjected him to.

But even as the jock's cruelty replayed in his mind, Aiden couldn't help but feel his body react in an unexpected way. Abe's muscular physique was like a siren's call to his hidden desires. Every time Abe flexed his biceps, every time he saw the way his abs rippled when he took off his shirt, Aiden felt a twinge of arousal. It was confusing and humiliating, but he couldn't deny the attraction. He tried to shake the images from his mind, focusing on the cold, lifeless screen in front of him. But as he typed away, his thoughts kept drifting back to Abe's body.

The memory of their first encounter in the dorm room washed over him. Aiden had been unpacking his bags when Abe strutted in, all confidence and bravado. His ginger hair was a fiery crown atop his broad shoulders, and his skin was the color of a perfectly roasted sweet potato. Aiden had felt his cock stiffen in his pants as Abe threw his duffel bag onto the bed and flexed his arms, the veins in his forearms popping as he claimed the top bunk. It was like watching a living, breathing Greek statue come to life, and Aiden had been utterly captivated.

In the weeks that followed, the bullying had only intensified, but so had Aiden's infatuation. He found himself sneaking glances at Abe whenever he could, his eyes lingering on the way the jock's muscles moved beneath his skin like a living tapestry. He would lie in his bed at night, listening to the sound of Abe's deep, even breathing, and imagine what it would be like to trace his fingers over those powerful contours. He knew it was wrong, that he should despise the very thought of Abe's touch, but his body had a mind of its own.

One fateful afternoon, the breaking point came. Aiden had had enough. As Abe loomed over him in the dorm, poking fun at his latest coding project, Aiden felt a surge of anger unlike anything he had ever experienced. He shoved Abe's hand away, knocking over the half-empty protein shake that had been perched on the edge of his desk. The sticky, sweet liquid spattered across the floor, and the room fell silent.

Abe's eyes narrowed, his smirk fading to a snarl. "You little shit," he growled, his fists clenching. "You're going to pay for that."

Without a second thought, Aiden bolted. His skinny legs, usually reserved for carrying his slender frame from one class to another, found a newfound speed as he dashed through the dorm's hallways. The chorus of Abe's outraged curses and his heavy footsteps grew louder behind him. Adrenaline coursed through Aiden's veins, turning his fear into a wild, untamed beast that propelled him forward.

He sped past the open doors of the dorms, ignoring the stunned stares of his peers. His heart thumped in his chest like a drum, each beat a reminder of the danger that lurked just steps away. Aiden knew he couldn't outrun Abe forever, but every second he managed to stay ahead was a victory in its own right.

As the sound of Abe's footsteps grew closer, Aiden's eyes scanned the area for an escape. His gaze fell upon a house with a garage sale sign hanging askew from the doorframe. Without a moment's hesitation, he dashed down the driveway and ducked into the open garage, panting heavily.

The owner of the garage sale was Jack, a towering figure of masculine power that stood out even in the sea of muscular jocks at the college. His straight, tall body was sculpted by rigorous bodybuilding routines, and his attire was as enigmatic as the house behind him. He wore a vibrant blue tank top that clung to his broad chest and bulging biceps, hinting at the strength beneath. Skin-tight black shorts accentuated his powerful legs, and white sneakers with tight laces completed the look. The silver necklace with a gothic cross around his neck shimmered in the sunlight, adding an unexpected touch of elegance to his intimidating presence.

The ancient-looking house with ivy climbing up the walls loomed in the background, whispering secrets of its mystical heritage. The garage was a treasure trove of vibrant garments, a stark contrast to the well-maintained lawns and quaint neighborhood. Aiden, panting and trembling, stumbled into this whimsical scene, his eyes wide with fear as he searched for a place to hide from Abe's wrath.

Jack, the owner of the garage sale, looked up from his perch atop a sturdy wooden chair, his silver necklace glinting in the sunlight. He took in the sight of the panic-stricken college student with a knowing smile. The garments around him fluttered in the gentle breeze, their colors popping against the dark, mysterious aura of the house.

"Looks like you're in a bit of a hurry, friend," Jack drawled, his deep voice rumbling through the garage like distant thunder.

Aiden's eyes darted around the space, his breath coming in shallow gasps. "Please, I… I just need to hide for a moment," he stammered, his gaze landing on the towering figure before him.

Jack's smile grew, revealing a set of gleaming white teeth. "From what?" he inquired, his eyes sparkling with a mischievous glint. The garments around them fluttered, as if eager to hear Aiden's response.

"Abe," Aiden managed to croak out, his voice trembling. "He's… he's been bullying me since we became roommates." He paused, taking in a deep breath to steady himself. "He just… he's a jock, and he doesn't like that I'm… that I'm different."

Jack's expression grew serious, his eyes scanning Aiden with a newfound intensity. "Ah," he murmured, his voice a gentle rumble. "A classic case of the lion and the lamb." He stood up, his muscles rippling as he towered over the trembling student. "Don't worry, little one. You're safe here."

With a wave of his hand, Jack indicated the racks of clothes surrounding them. "Why don't you pick something out?" he suggested, his voice a low purr. "A change of attire might just be what you need to throw that oaf off your scent."

Aiden's eyes widened at the prospect. He had never thought of using clothing as a disguise before. The idea was ludicrous, but at the same time, it was strangely appealing. He shuffled through the racks, his trembling hands brushing against the fabric of shirts that screamed confidence and colors that shouted rebellion. The garments were a stark departure from his usual plain t-shirts and baggy pants, a silent manifesto of self-expression that he had never allowed himself to indulge in before.

Jack watched him with a knowing smile, his powerful arms folded across his chest. "Take your time," he said, his voice a comforting bass. "Find something that makes you feel… seen."

Aiden's eyes fell upon a faded black hoodie and matching jogger pants that looked as if they had been worn by someone of Jack's size. They were simple, yet exuded a strange power, as if they had been imbued with the confidence of a hundred fiery comebacks and the resilience of a thousand unspoken truths. The fabric was soft to the touch, and Aiden could almost feel the warmth of the garments wrapping around him, shielding him from the world's cruel eyes. He looked up at Jack, hope flickering in his gaze.

"Those?" Aiden's voice was barely a whisper.

Jack nodded, his smile widening. "They're perfect for you," he said, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "They're my old clothes, from back when I was your age. They've got a bit of history, a bit of fight in them. I can see it in your eyes, you want to fight back. But remember, not every battle is won with fists."

Aiden swallowed hard, his heart pounding in his chest. "Can… can I change here?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Jack's smile grew even wider, his eyes twinkling with understanding. "Of course," he said, gesturing towards a makeshift changing room in the corner of the garage. It was nothing more than a large, velvet curtain that had seen better days, but to Aiden, it was a beacon of hope. "Take your time. The clothes will fit you like a glove, I promise."

With trembling hands, Aiden stepped behind the curtain, the fabric swishing around him like a dark cloak. He peeled off his own shirt and pants, his skin sticking to the fabric with a cold sweat. As he slipped on the black hoodie and jogger pants, they felt strange on his body—like a second skin that whispered promises of strength and protection. He looked at his reflection in a dusty mirror that leaned precariously against the garage wall, and for a moment, he didn't recognize himself. The clothes were indeed too big for him, hanging off his skeletal frame like a child playing dress-up in his father's oversized attire. Yet, there was something about them that made him feel… different.

As the fabric settled into place, a warmth spread through his body, starting from his chest and radiating down to his toes. He could feel the magic of the garments coursing through him, and with it, a strange sensation grew in his groin. Aiden's eyes widened as he looked down to see his cock stiffening and growing, pushing against the fabric of the jogger pants. The sensation was both terrifying and exhilarating, and he could feel his cheeks flush with a mix of embarrassment and arousal. The hoodie's fabric grew taut around his shoulders, stretching and morphing as his body began to change, filling out the garments in a way that seemed impossible for his lanky frame.

A soft moan of pleasure slipped from his lips as he felt his muscles swell. His biceps bulged, pushing the sleeves of the hoodie to their limits, and his chest grew broad and firm, the fabric of the shirt straining to contain the newfound power beneath it. His abs rippled as they formed, each one defined and strong. The sensation was overwhelming, and he reached up to touch the new contours of his body, his fingers tracing the lines of his pecs in amazement. His once-concave stomach had transformed into a washboard of power that begged to be admired.

His shoulders broadened, the seams of the hoodie giving way to reveal the beginnings of a pair of broad, powerful shoulders that could carry the weight of the world—or at least the burden of his heavy backpack with ease. The fabric of the garments grew taut across his back, highlighting the growth of his muscles as they expanded to fill the space. Aiden felt his heart race as the transformation continued, the blood pulsing through his veins like a symphony of strength.

The sensation grew more intense, his spine straightening and lengthening as muscles he had never felt before began to take shape. His back grew wider, the bones of his ribcage stretching and popping as they made room for the newfound bulk of his torso. He couldn't help but let out a low moan of pleasure and surprise, his breath hitching as his body continued to change before his very eyes. The feeling of power surging through him was intoxicating, a heady mix of arousal and adrenaline that made his knees weak.

Aiden looked down at his legs and gasped. They were no longer the spindly sticks that had carried him from one class to the next; they were thick, powerful pillars that could support the weight of his newfound strength. His calves bulged with each step he took, the muscles flexing and moving beneath his skin like living art. His feet grew larger, filling the space in his sneakers Jack had handed him with a satisfying snugness. The fabric of the jogger pants stretched tightly over his newly sculpted thighs, the seams straining against the unyielding pressure of his growth.

And his cock… it was massive, thick and heavy, demanding attention. It was as if the garments had brought to life every fantasy he had ever dared to think about Abe. The fabric of the jogger pants struggled to contain the monstrous length and girth that now filled his vision. The pressure was unbearable, and Aiden couldn't help but let out a soft moan as he reached down to adjust himself. His hand wrapped around his shaft, and the sensation was like nothing he had ever felt before—his skin was sensitive, electrified, begging for touch.

With trembling fingers, Aiden pulled down his pants, his cock springing free like a caged animal released into the wild. The sight of it was almost too much to handle, and he couldn't resist the urge to stroke himself. The feeling was indescribable—each stroke sent a bolt of pleasure through his body, making his knees weak and his toes curl. The air was thick with the scent of his arousal, mixing with the faint scent of the garage's dust and the musky aroma of the leather jackets that hung nearby. His eyes rolled back in his head, and he leaned against the mirror for support, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps.

As he came back to reality, Aiden realized the extent of the transformation. The once-shy college student was now a confident, dominant force, his mind ablaze with a hunger for male submission. The very thought of dominating a man, of feeling his cock buried deep inside someone else, filled him with a sense of power that was both terrifying and exhilarating. His interests had shifted in an instant—gone were the nights spent coding and playing video games. Now, all Aiden could think about was the rush of adrenaline from the football field, the feel of a tight end around his thick, swollen cock. His former love for comics and computers had been replaced by a ravenous appetite for physical conquest and the thrill of the chase.

But with this newfound confidence came a sharp decline in his intellect. His thoughts had become as thick and murky as the fog that rolled in off the ocean, clouding his once-sharp mind. His IQ had plummeted to a mere 70, leaving him struggling to grasp the complex concepts he had once found so easy. It was as if the garments had stolen his intelligence in exchange for his newfound strength and bravado. The very idea of his previous life—his studies, his quiet solitude—now seemed like a distant memory, a fading dream from a life he no longer knew.

The transformation wasn't just physical; it was a complete shift in his essence. The clothes had imbued him with a raw, primal power that was undeniable, and it was all he could think about. His once-shy persona had been swallowed whole by this new, alpha-male identity, leaving Aiden to grapple with his newfound desires.

As the first wave of pleasure crashed over him, Aiden's eyes rolled back in his head, and he let out a guttural groan that echoed through the garage. His body convulsed as he came, the warmth of his cum spilling out over his fist and down his thighs. The scent of his arousal filled the small space, mingling with the dust and the faint smell of motor oil. The garments around him seemed to pulse with excitement, as if feeding off his sexual energy.

Jack's eyes widened slightly from outside the curtain, the sound of Aiden's pleasure music to his ears. He knew that the transformation was complete, that the magic of the garments had taken hold. He had seen it before, the way they could change someone so fundamentally, so completely. It was a heady power, one that he reveled in.

As Aiden's breathing evened out, he felt it—the beginnings of a new arousal, his cock swelling once more. He looked down in shock, his hand still sticky with cum, as the fabric of the jogger pants stretched and strained against his burgeoning erection. The magic of the garments was potent, and having worn two of them at once had amplified the effect.

The warmth grew stronger, spreading from his groin and enveloping his entire body. It was a warmth unlike any he had ever felt—it didn't just feel good, it felt… right. It was a warmth that filled him with a deep, primal urge to conquer, to claim what was his. His heart raced, his thoughts a jumbled mess of desire and confusion.

Jack's voice broke through the haze, a gentle rumble that seemed to resonate in Aiden's very bones. "How do you feel, my friend?" he called out, a hint of excitement in his tone.

Aiden's eyes snapped open, his breathing ragged. "Jack… what… what have you done to me?" His voice was deeper, more assertive than he had ever heard it.

Jack stepped closer to the curtain, his own heart racing with excitement. "It's all part of the transformation," he said, his voice soothing. "The clothes, they… they have a way of bringing out the true you."

Aiden's hand stilled on his cock, the pleasure subsiding to a dull throb. He looked at the mirror again, his eyes widening as he took in his new image. He was no longer the skinny nerd that Abe could push around. Now, he was something else entirely—powerful, dominant, a creature of pure masculine desire. The warmth grew stronger, and he felt his body swell with each pulse of blood in his veins. His skin grew tight and hot, the garments clinging to him like a second skin.

The grey hoodie groaned in protest as Aiden's shoulders bulged, tearing the fabric with the ease of a lion shaking off a wet coat. The material split along the seams, revealing the swell of his biceps and the sharp lines of his triceps. The cotton fibers struggled to contain the explosion of muscles that had overtaken his body. His chest ballooned, the fabric of the shirt straining and popping as his abs grew more defined, each one a ridge of power beneath the surface. The neckline gave way, the fabric no match for the newfound bulk that was Aiden's shoulders.

Aiden looked down at his legs, his calves now bulging and thick, the once-flimsy jogger pants now nothing but shreds around his ankles. His feet had grown to size 16, the sneakers Jack had provided now a sad, discarded memory. His toes wiggled in the cool garage air, and he marveled at the sight of them, strong and powerful. The briefs, once a snug fit, now clung to his hips like a lover's embrace, the elastic stretched to its limits by the monstrous cock that jutted out obscenely before him.

The urge to touch himself was overwhelming, and Aiden couldn't resist. He wrapped his hand around his shaft, feeling the warmth and weight of it, the fabric of his briefs doing little to hide his newfound size. His strokes grew more vigorous as the warmth in his groin spread, his moans filling the garage like a siren's call. His hips bucked involuntarily, his body moving with a mind of its own, seeking release from the intense pleasure that was building.

Jack's smile grew wider as he watched through the crack in the curtain. He had seen this transformation before, the way the garments could strip away the layers of a man's identity and leave him a creature of pure, unbridled desire. He knew that once Aiden emerged from that changing room, there would be no going back. The transformation was complete.

As the warmth grew to a crescendo, Aiden's thoughts grew more primal. He no longer cared about his studies, his coding projects, or the quiet life he had once known. His mind was a raging sea of muscular men, their powerful bodies writhing in a tapestry of passion and submission. He was the captain of this ship, the master of this domain, and he would conquer them all.

Aiden felt his cock throb with anticipation, and with a roar of pleasure, he came again. His seed spurted forth, painting the dusty mirror before him in a display of dominance. The room filled with the scent of his release, a potent aphrodisiac that seemed to thicken the very air. The garments around him quivered with excitement, as if in response to his newfound power. His orgasm was a declaration of war against the weakness that had once defined him.

As the waves of pleasure receded, Aiden's eyelids grew heavy. The exertion of his transformation had left him drained, and the warmth of the garments lulled him into a deep, satisfied sleep. He slumped against the mirror, his muscular form heaving with each ragged breath. The sticky mess of his cum was a testament to the intensity of the change, a reminder of the power that now surged through his veins.

Jack watched him from the shadows, his smile never wavering. He knew that once Aiden awoke, his world would be forever changed. The magic of the garments had done its work, turning the shy, introverted college student into a creature of unbridled desire and physical prowess. The sleeping giant was now a force to be reckoned with, and Jack couldn't wait to see the havoc he would wreak upon the unsuspecting college campus.

[lgbtqmovierecs]

Hello, do u have any recs with a trans main character?

Of course! Here’s a list <3 (I’ll update links as i post them)

Fanfic

Two high school students form an intense connection as they navigate the challenges of discovering and expressing their truest selves.

I Saw The TV Glow

Teenager Owen is just trying to make it through life in the suburbs when his classmate introduces him to a mysterious late-night TV show - a vision of a supernatural world beneath their own. In the pale glow of the television, Owen’s view of reality begins to crack.

Cowboys

A troubled but well-intentioned father who has recently separated from his wife runs off with his trans son into the Montana wilderness after his ex-wife’s refusal to let their son live as his authentic self.

Alice Junior

Transgender teen Alice wants to land her first kiss, but wants to be accepted for who she is at high school before getting the kiss.

Boys Don’t Cry

Teena Brandon, a young transgender, adopts a male identity and becomes romantically involved with Lana, a single mother. However, things go downhill after she finds out he lied to her about his troubled past and sex change.

The Danish Girl

Artist Gerda Wegener asks her husband Einar to pose as a female model for a painting. Things take an unexpected turn when this act triggers Einar to reignite his suppressed identification.

First Day

It’s Hannah Bradford’s first year of high school. As a transgender girl, Hannah not only has to navigate the challenges that come with starting a new school, but find the courage to live as her most authentic self.

Unsound

A disillusioned musician’s romantic spark is ignited by a young trans man as they work together to save his community nightclub for the deaf.

Girl

Determined 15-year-old Lara is committed to becoming a professional ballerina. With the support of her father, she throws herself into this quest for the absolute at a new school. Lara’s adolescent frustrations and impatience are heightened as she realises her body does not bend so easily to the strict discipline because she was born male.

September Mornings

The life of a trans woman who has just gained her independence takes an unexpected turn when an unknown son she had with a woman ten years ago shows up out of the blue.

Miss Andy

Struggling for years, 55-year-old Andy finally declares herself as a woman. However, after she shelters a mother with her son, everything turns downhill all of a sudden.

[mo-ons-stuff]

Pick a Card: Your Love Life in 2025

Any card!

Pile one -> Pile two ↓ Pile Three

Pile One

I'm hearing that you're going to experience this fairytale kind of love. The one where Cinderella and Prince Charming find each other. They dance at the ball, yadda yadda yadda. You're going to experience it all, so I don't have to reaaalllly go into that much detail. It'll be great.

Except, since I also see that you'll love this person persistently, right? But there's also gonna be a minor issue. They're perfect, sure, but there's that one thing that gets you a bit like... hmmmm.

Aka, ~the ick~.

Now, pile one, you're going to have to get real for a moment. Is it an ick, or is it normal? Can you really chastise someone for existing as, like, a human being?

This year will bring you great love, but also great lessons. You may need to learn how to grow with other people. Meaning, you've done the work to get comfortable with yourself, but are you comfortable with other people? I don't see so. You're actually a bit more judgmental than you thought, to the point where you don't realize it. You may think of yourself as a person who is graceful to others, so maybe try seeing where this thought blocks you from actually giving grace.

Sometimes we get so caught up in our own lives that we forget to focus on growing with other people, too. The thing you're gonna have to remember is to get out of your own head. Touch grass. I don't see that you don't but maybe look at the grass for what it is instead of triumphantly exclaiming that you did the thing.

So, in tandem with what I just said, your love life will go just perfectly. I doubt that this lesson will fly over your head, so try not to ruin a good thing for yourself and it will all be good. You're going to get your happily ever after.

Want me to elaborate? Consider a paid reading!

Pile Two

Not going to lie, this pile is similar to pile three in the sense that you've gone through a bit. Life has a habit of throwing things at you, so you are used to bracing yourself. However, where others haven't done the work, you have. Where there was lack before, there is abundance now. You cultivated the wastelands and have conquered mountains. You've done so much and now all is left is... love?

You're pretty balanced as an individual. Nicely enough, this actually attracts people. That. Is. So. Crazy !!!! <- I'm getting that you'll be thinking back on this year and it's interactions like that. Literally, though, it's going to blow your mind how when push comes to shove... your efforts actually led to good results. You're going to see what it's like in action.

It's not like it's going to be too unbelievable. It's literally just a new normal. And, it takes getting used to.

When you do get used to it, dating itself is going to be really nice. You'll know how to get around and find someone. This is going to be less of a surprise to you; I'll explain why.

This lover is very bumbly (almost clumsy) and sweet, and meanly enough you may not consider them an option at first. It's not personal, you just didn't. But they are also kind of obvious too. It's just endearing, honestly. They're a bit silly, with all of this as I'm reading like awww they're so cute. You won't have to worry about the cruelty of the world with them. They're a human with emotions and complications do arise because of that, but you know how to navigate these things and so do they.

Not going to lie, some of you are afab wlw, and others are afab but straight. This person could be either gender, so basically take it as it resonates for the gender you're into.

*gif unrelated. Tahani is hot and a baddie.

Want me to elaborate? Consider a paid reading!

Pile Three

"I am trying to find myself. Sometimes that's not easy."- Marilyn Monroe

Admittedly, and I mean admittedly because you know this deep down, pile three, but admittedly you know that your love prospects haven’t been good. You are aware of why, too. There’s a truth that you’re running from, all because it’s a bit too painful to process. And it makes you choose the same hurt again and again. The devil often comes knocking at your door, and you haven’t comprehended that maybe you shouldn’t fall for the different clothes or his sweet words.

All of that is to say: gain more self-awareness. You’re falling for the same tricks in different clothes because you aren’t aware of what you need to do to not let this in. Boundaries are powerful only because they stop things that aren't meant for you in your life. Don't forget: you not liking things and acting accordingly is a boundary, too.

To speak from the heart for a moment: I kept wondering why certain types of people were "attracted" to me, like I was a magnet for bad. But, as it turns out, I've learned that other people tolerate bullshit so much less. Meaning, I was not attracting these people. They interact with others too; I was letting them in where others wouldn't. If you're suffering, and you notice that the people around you aren't, they're doing something you haven't been doing. Maybe you subconsciously tolerate less, or maybe you even consciously ignore the voice in your head telling you to get away.

You can only ever subconsciously tolerate less by consciously getting disgusted at tolerating more.

Actionable advice to change your future: if confronting the monster that needs to be confronted is too hard for you, chip away at its hard scales slowly but surely. Keep your distance at the times you need to, and confront it head on when you need to. It takes patience and you may get burned, but experience is the best teacher. Look to others who have been through the same thing as you and be completely open to trying what they have successfully used to combat their disorders, addictions, and trauma (always get medical professional help first though).

This is a you year. One day at a time, you will get better. And when the next new year rolls around, maybe you'll have learned enough to finally embrace a year of romantic prosperity and abundance. I see that this pile is actually lowkey full of baddies, pulling a quote by Marilyn Monroe isn't for weak personalities.

On a final note, don't get discouraged by this message. One year in a life is a drop in the ocean. You most likely won't remember the lonely times when you finally do reach the other side of the hardships. All that matters is that you get comfortable with *you*, and what's meant for you will soon follow.

Want me to elaborate? Consider a paid reading!

Thank you for reading!

[writer-haley-e]

I haven’t talked much about it on here, but I was participating in NaNoWriMo this month! I was expecting to not complete it, because I’ve heard of so many people not able to in their first year, but I realized I can actually write pretty fast if I try to, and I finished!

My current word count is 50,537!!

I haven’t written this much for any one story before, so I’m so proud of myself for getting this much done in such a short time, and I’m hoping to finish the rest of the first draft by the end of January at the very latest.

Also I’ve been keeping track of how much time I’ve spent just writing this month, and it’s added up to 32 hours and 36 minutes, which seems fast to me at least, idk how fast other people did it.

Anyways, my first year trying nanowrimo and I did it! Yay!

[windydrawallday]

Long-PSA-short of sorts that's more a vent: I was always aware my behavior and way of expressing myself online can surprise many people, especially if they are not used to someone who uses the writing medium as a playful form to tell emotions in a very descriptive way as I do. I'm quite affectionate with words, yes. And I always beg people I hang with personally to let me know if some of that bothers them, curtly of course. So far there have been few instances of individuals confusing those signals with ulterior means, things I assure you there's nothing more than me being friendly and supportive.

Imagine idk an excited dog seeing its owner haha

Until the past week, I found myself being tackled by something that made me almost knock everything aside because it made me realize that probably I'm a walking trigger/squick inducer with even the way I wield words like "love" and "friendship".

Almost...

I'm pretty tolerant of whatever way people conduct themselves in this life, the only moment I flinch is when an individual assumes from my default behavior and presentation that I want to impose my way of life... And nopes.

This is simply how and who I am. Nothing more, nothing less. I don't search for conflict but for understanding. My language for expressing marvel and reflections is like this, never to make the other feel awkward or attacked.

So, it upset me knowing that by wielding this forever welcoming and lovable disposition, I can be something to fear and even despite... to some people.

But, you know? That means that my "love" and "friendship" lifestyle are not made for you, no reason to come back to me and point at it. Just keep walking if you have only rage and rejection to give as a reply to my point of view. Because by wielding rage and rejection, what you only do is burn bridges. To create conflict and assume imaginary antagonistic scenarios where there's nothing of that at all.

You can't create the world you wish to live in by burning bridges.

It took me a lot too to forge who I am right now. I even keep learning and chiseling through traumas and mistakes—kindness and patience taught me more than rage and rejection. And "love" and "friendship" are the bricks I chose to build those bridges. I know everyone else uses different concepts but in the end, we all build bridges. By creating bridges and inviting others to do the same, I expand not only my world, but the other's too!

Isn't that better than demanding to be this or that through a black/white flag of rage and rejection? I think so. And I understand perfectly we sometimes need to be blunt when marking our boundaries. Still, never justifies treating the other bad.

And if some of you find "fake" or distasteful the way I wear this flag of "love" and "friendship" I'm sorry: this place will never be safe for you then. The exit door is always open. Go ahead.

I hope you find your place and flags out there too, but don't forget that to do that you need to build bridges. If you don't want to call it "friendship" call it "glue" or whatever makes you comfortable, but don't kick people like me who fought with claws and teeth to reclaim those words and feelings.

Fight your fight by being a good example, not a bad experience that makes someone never want to deal with something like this again in their life.

"Any color you like, (in the end) they're all blue."

[gifti3]

I was trying to do a little catch up in nightbringer

I finished lesson 20 and they like joke(?) about moving to the human world and staying at the MCs home if they cant stay in the devildom

And i just wanna seriously consider the logistics of MC trying to house 7 other people

Most of us are probably living with other people (who may not be okay with sharing a space with so many strangers suddenly) and/or dont have a giant sized place

And this is assuming the mc is staying at a house and not an apartment....

[cookinguptales]

today's mantra is "time spent healing is never wasted"

[snekdood]

Dude.. my ex boyfriend totally did get me into conspiracy theory shit, even if unintentionally (i think its intentional im sure he believed in that shit. Would not surprise me at all.) At the time i was already pretty isolated from anyone online who mightve countered any of my dumb spiritual or alien related beliefs because of some dumb shit i said online making most of the friends and followers i made online generally avoid me, depending on who it was. I was just a regular pagan and then he showed me this weird video with all this weird conspiracy theory symbolism in it. I looked it up later on and looked up the meaning of the symbolism and came across a whole bunch of stuff posing itself as Secret Information The US Govt Doesnt Want You To Know About, etc. And then i just fell deeper into the conspiracy theory pipeline, traded my paganism for new age beliefs, and goddamn dude. Like we both got suspended from school bc he had a dumb idea to dumb shit there and i spent my time in detention fucking. Trying to read "the emerald tablets" or whatever tf. Its all coming back to me rn.

[gutsfics]

i love you Characters With Strange Relationships To Their Parents

[simpjaes]

DAY-SHIFT. (p. sh)

― part one here! After finding out that your boss has seen, heard, and instructed you through some pleasurable nights while parading around as a faceless cam-boy, you decide that your best course of action is to: call out sick. use vacation days. avoid Park Sunghoon at all costs. Unfortunately, ten days doesn’t appear to be nearly enough time to erase what’s happened, and Sunghoon refuses to be avoided. or the one where sunghoon pretends that he isn’t an anxious mess over accidentally exposing himself and you just so happen to have a lot of fucking empathy. 

minors dni 

PAIRING ― boss / cam boy!sunghoon x afab reader  

WORDCOUNT― 14.5k 

CONTENT― forbidden office romance kind of, smidge of angst if ur sensitive, mentions of predatory behavior from sunghoon, he is more desperate than he is dominant, just the way we like it.

NOTE ― bro im so sorry this took way too long to write, it also is way longer than it's supposed to be. but yknow. i had to do him right lmfao. NOT PROOF READ.

nsfw tags under cut

nsfw tags― perverted sunghoon, heavy petting, making out, foreplay on a chair lol, desk sex, very intimate shit ok? ok., pussy eating, jerking off, finger fucking, fingers-in-mouth antics, gagging, implications of something more than just an office fling, unprotected sex, he fills you UP!!! YIPEE!!! 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Avoidance.

That is the only way you know out of any awkward or unsavory situation. Avoid, avoid, avoid. Find a new job, change your name, dye your hair– question all of your life choices up to this point.

It’s the fact that never in your life have you had an interest in live sex cams. It was always just a porn video or a nice erotic novel for you. Sometimes curiosity gets the best of you though, like it does all people, and it’s not like you thought anyone would ever know who you are or catch you in the act of feeding into your curiosities. 

The one time you ever navigated to the live camera feed on your favorite porn site did shift your sexual appetite a little bit. A whole new world of seeing exactly what you want without needing to search for far too long for that perfect video…for a cost, of course.

You made good money already, and it’s not like you weren’t going for that promotion at the time either. You thought, why not? Why not pay a pretty, faceless man for some anonymous jerking off and move on with your life? 

The one time you found something to satiate the late night body-cravings, the point of pleasure ended up being…your boss?

Small world? Miniscule, fucking tiny little world. 

For days you wondered if Sunghoon’s text to you was just a coincidence. After all, the faceless man on screen didn’t say a word to you after you uttered the name of your boss. Even if he directly said your name. Even if Park Sunghoon uttered your false name at work. 

Consistent back and forth in your head. From, “No, how could that even be possible? No way is it him.” to “but Mr.Park started being weird after the first call, he used both names, he played off of the boss/employee dynamic.”

You’re going crazy as you send another email to your department, apologizing for taking so many days off but not truly apologetic. It’s been ten days now and Sunghoon has yet to text you again. 

That little “Can we talk?” can be heard in your head in his voice. Only now recognizing how clear and unique it truly is when he does speak. You try not to realize how similar the cam-boy sounded to him. Only connecting the dots when they force you to do it, really. You still try to convince yourself that the text was about firing you, given his actions at work that very same day. 

Maybe he was avoiding you because he felt awful about needing to fire you? 

Maybe he sent that text message to start the process of pushing you out? 

After all, it’s still very difficult to imagine Park Sunghoon having a cock that nice, or cum in that amount. Given, it’s not like you ever thought about him jerking off or anything, it’s just–

You don’t fucking know. Your brain is a mess of shaking anxiety and echoes of sexual frustrations and moans. 

You were refunded your money. He texted after the session. He said your name. It’s him, isn’t it?

You refuse to fucking find out.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

From:...[ HRatyourjob@workemail.org ]

CC:...[ parksunghoon@workemail.org ]

BCC:...

Subject: Time off Request: Rejected. Insufficient PTO.

[insert your name here],

The time you have requested from the 27th to the 3rd has been rejected due to insufficient hours. As of last Thursday, you are no longer meeting the minimum hour requirement as a full-time employee. Your PTO is at 0 hours and 00 minutes and you now have three unexcused absences. Please return tomorrow with a signed order or note that exempts you from work. If you move forward without returning to the building, this will be grounds for termination. Please review the company handbook and job abandonment guidelines. 

Additionally, COO Lee, myself, and Division manager Park will be scheduling a meeting with you in the upcoming days, failure to appear will result in immediate termination.

Thank you,

HR

Well, fuck. You knew the time to avoid this would dry up, and this ten day hideaway to fake your death didn’t quite pan out.

Devastating, truly, that you have to walk through those doors with the same legs your boss may or may not have seen spread open for him through a grainy webcam image. Horrifying, that you have to look him in the eye and explain that you really were sick for the past ten days, that you definitely were not hiding the shame of your sexual desires.

The worst part about all of this? Not just the embarrassment but the fact that…you liked it. On that night, had he admitted it was him, you may not have ended the call yourself. It felt like it added some danger to your arousal at the time. Which, naturally, makes you more embarrassed now. Mostly because, at worst if that was Mr.Park, it was predatory. At best though? You very well may have consented.

But the what ifs don’t matter now. The only thing that matters is forcing yourself through the awkwardness of being at work after avoiding it for so long already.

Fortunately for you though, work is…weirdly normal. In fact, no one acts like you’ve missed ten days at all. You are greeted by the usual co-workers, you sit down at your desk and can log in as usual, and there are no warning emails or invitations for what would be considered a meeting of termination either. 

The day goes by just fine, suspiciously so. Sunghoon, though you’re avoiding him at the moment, doesn’t appear to be too out of character either. At one point, you were forced to drop corrected paper work off in his office, and he gave you the same usual and small “Thank you” before you stepped out with your legs threatening to buckle. 

Then again, his “casual” appreciation could just be your mind playing positive little tricks on you. Maybe it wasn’t casual at all. Maybe that little uncharacteristic breath afterwards isn’t just in your head. You didn’t make eye contact with him during that brief moment, and you did rush out quite quickly so you wouldn’t really know. However, in the deepest part of your brain his voice really does match the one who said all those dirty things to you. 

Maybe you’re still overreacting.

Or maybe you dreamed all of this up. 

You choose to remain unaware of the awkwardness around you solely because everything else is normal. Deep, deep down, you know. But you’re not giving that truth a chance to thrive or run your brain anymore.

And just as the day comes to an end, you’re actually feeling better. Anxiety is draining out of you, fear and embarrassment sit dormant in some hidden part of your brain over the small possibility of virtually fucking your boss. It seems you’ve let this work day clear up all of that fear in your head.

You were wrong, right? It wasn’t him, right? He’d have tried to defend himself by now. What boss wouldn’t be absolutely terrified that you’d report him, anyway? After all of that?

You actually feel a little dumb at the possibility of Mr. Park ever wanting you sexually, or ever even wanting to speak to you in that way. Asking to see your pussy? Telling you how to touch it? No, that’s definitely not him. Couldn’t be him. 

And your eyes do stray after a little while. Just to steal glimpses into his office, feeling relieved and weightless now that it appears your fears are over and finally understood. Doesn’t change the fact that now when you look at him, you might be wildly fucking attracted to him. Because fuck, imagine if that was him. You’re kind of forced to put his image to the faceless cam-boy now, not that you want to do that or anything. It just…you can’t really blame yourself for it.

You lend yourself a little laugh. As happy as you are that you’re able to convince yourself that it’s not Sunghoon’s cock you’ve yearned for, you really wouldn’t mind sleeping with someone as handsome as him. 

Crazy how the lack of anxiety lets you think those types of things though, isn’t it? When your brain is no longer fogged by fear or embarrassment, it’s like the clarity can sometimes be scarier simply because you don’t know how true certain statements are. Even through all of that fear, maybe a part of you wished it was him. 

Even with the weight on your shoulders lifted, in hindsight, maybe you’re even a little disappointed that it wasn’t. 

And, just as you’re preparing to clock out and head home with a big secret crush and a little pep in your step, you hear the familiar notification of an email. No problem, probably just a daily report or something. 

From:...[ parksunghoon@workemail.org ]

CC:...

BCC:...

Subject: Mandatory Advising

[insert your name here],

Please come to my office before you leave for the day to discuss your conduct as of late. 

Thank you,

Park Sunghoon

Division Manager

000-000-0000 ext. 000

Well, double fuck. To think everything was fine despite you being well aware of that shit HR said to you previously? 

You barely recognize how the email is sent directly to you from Mr. Park, not including HR or COO Lee. In fact, the anxiety wells up inside of you so quickly that you nearly have to dry heave a few times before taking a deep breath. 

In your head, it’s not even about the web-cam session with a faceless man anymore. Your anxiety about that died the moment you successfully lied to yourself enough, now you’re genuinely just afraid you’ll lose your job or that beloved promotion you worked so hard to be qualified for. You just had to let your anxiety run your life for the past ten days, didn’t you? After all, skipping work to such an extent? Everyone had to have known that it was a lie eventually.  

So, you stand to your feet, brush off your thighs, and attempt to keep your heart from pounding as you make your way to Mr. Park’s office expecting to see HR, COO Lee, and a severance package on the desk waiting for your signature. 

Instead, you walk in to just find your boss. He’s looking at you as he normally would, eyes focused on his screen before glancing at you for a moment and nodding his head to one of the chairs in front of his desk. 

“Mr. Park–” You start, nearly wincing at the way you say it because, well, you haven’t said it since the night you had your pussy out on display. It’s only natural to physically react, right?

“One moment.” He says in a small voice, clicking a few times with the mouse as you watch the monitor light shine across his cheeks with each window he minimizes. 

It’s silent for a few moments as you awkwardly look around an office you’ve been in countless times. His lights are always dimmed, the temperature is always comfortable. You’re gonna miss this office, though it’s not your own. It was a nice, brief escape before all of this if you’re being honest. 

“How was work for you today?” He turns his attention to you, finally adjusting and rolling his chair to center himself in front of you behind his desk 

You pause at the question, unintentionally tilting your head at it like a puppy. “Good? Normal, I guess?” 

You watch as he nods with a tight-lipped expression, eyes falling to his desk as he takes in a deep and disappointed sounding breath. 

“Well, that’s one of us.” He huffs out, causing you to feel a bit confused with his tone. Is he being…passive aggressive? And when he snaps his eyes from his desk straight to your own confused gaze, you can almost sense a bit of something else in them compared to usual. 

Not anger. Not disappointment. 

He looks worried.

“Eleven days–” Sunghoon drones on with an exhausted tone, cutting himself off with another breath that shows you were right to assume his current displayed emotion. “You have ignored my text messages for eleven days.” 

You’re shocked by that because as far as you’re concerned, he has not texted you.

“What are you–” You furrow your brows at him, frantically pulling out your phone. “You haven’t texted me. See? The last one I got was–” You take a second as you pull up his texts and remember the exact time he texted you. So late into the night, right after…that. Naturally, you silence yourself, afraid to say it out loud.

“On the contrary,” Sunghoon denies your proof. “I texted from my personal phone.”

You hesitate again, looking down and noting the notifications under the tab of  “message requests.” To be fucking fair though, you didn’t even know that existed so you never really paid attention to it. Especially as you practically avoided your phone out of fear that he’d be texting you again. 

You were thankful he didn’t. That comforted you. Now though? Your comfort is replaced yet again with anxiety because, well, he texted you consistently after that night.

“Oh–” You say quietly, seeing a glimpse of “Please, let me call y–” in one of the messages.

“I didn’t see those.” Quickly, you turn your screen off and shove your phone back into your pocket, nervously clasping your hands in front of you and looking to the floor. 

“I will reiterate then.” 

You can hear the leather on his chair squeak against his expensive suit when he leans forward, both hands splayed out on his desk in a wide and intimidating stance in front of you. 

“Wait–” You look around the office now. “If you’re going to fire me– shouldn’t the others be here too?”

Sunghoon pulls back at that, narrowing his eyes before lending a very small and even more nervous chuckle.

“I’m not firing you. I told them I’d take care of your sudden and, quite frankly, unhelpful vacation.” 

You look to the floor again, feeling scolded for your actions but having a genuine reason. If Sunghoon truly is aware of that reason for your absence, he understands too, right?

“I have been beyond inappropriate with you.” He blurts now, that same leather squeaking as he leans back again and looks away from you the moment you snap your head up. “I have reason to believe you’ve not yet reported me, and I’d like to ask for the opportunity to explain myself before you do.” 

You feel a chill wash over your whole body, cold sweat peaking right at your temples as you stare forward. He’s being so professional about this, and that lie you’ve convinced yourself of is showing it’s face as just that, a fucking lie.

So this is it? 

So there it is? A semi-admittance that it was him? That little feeling in the back of your head that wishes it was diminishes within an instant. In fact, you narrow your eyes at him, your nose crinkles, and you feel frustration bubble up in your gut.

“So you admit that it was you?” You ask, needing a full confirmation. 

“Yes.” Sunghoon sighs, leaning back somehow further, creating as much distance from you as possible before unintentionally rolling his eyes. Mostly due to the fact that he was stupid enough to let this happen, mostly to shame himself. “What I did was inappropriate and unacceptable. I didn’t intend for this to ever happen.”

Now you feel a bit…pissed off.

Like? Oh, he didn’t intend for this to happen? What? You mean he didn’t intend to let you fucking find out! Well, as good as he is at playing the part of a slutty man on the internet, he’s not so good at acting in real life, now is he? Saying your false fucking name at work, saying your real name with his cock out?

What in the fuck are you supposed to do about this? Why is he giving you the ability to report him? He’s the one with the power here. He could fire you now and bury the information if he so pleased. After all, He’s besties with COO Lee, right? That bitch in HR has an obsession with him too. Hell, everyone here loves the guy. 

You’re just a bottom of the barrel employee trying to work your way up. If you got him fired, surely he’d make damn sure you never work for a decent company like this one again. Additionally, you don’t even want to report him.

Yeah, it was fucking weird that he just knew it was you and kept going. Super strange that he had to have known after the first call, only to ask to see you in the second one. Why does that turn you on in the midst of this anxiety induced spiral? Why the fuck is the idea of Park Sunghoon apologizing for masturbating to and for you so alluring?! 

Sure, maybe it’s kind of nice knowing that someone of his status would ever find an interest in you, but it doesn’t quite wash the frustration away. You have every right to question, and every right to be pissed off about it. 

Still, in this quiet room, Sunghoon is stoic and all you can think about when you look at him is the way he said “if I were your boss i’d–” and the way he fucked his palm while saying it, implying he wanted it to be you while simultaneously knowing it was you watching. 

Since fucking when did Mr. Park ever show a sexual interest in you? And if he did, why the fuck couldn’t he have just been normal about it?

“That was really fucked up, you know that?” You argue immediately, voice shaking at the speed of which your emotions shift. Your resolve isn’t quite as clear as it probably should be. Perhaps you should report him, or maybe you already should have. But, it’s not like you accepted the truth until he demanded it of you.

You would have let it slide. Both of you could have pretended it never happened. You could’ve gone home and continued working, never paying a cam-boy again had Sunghoon not called you into this stupid, comfortable ass office. 

“In my defense, I was just doing my job. Though it’s my own fault for not telling you, my job here was at risk if you had found out.”

“You made me talk about you.” You roll your eyes at him now, gaining the power and control over the conversation. “And you thought I wouldn’t find out?! What? Did that get you off or something?”

“I–” Sunghoon stops himself from answering that question truthfully. He quickly tries to explain away the stutter instead. Never has he been scolded by an employee, but you’re well within your rights to do so. “I wasn’t in my right mind. I never get called by name during these sessions and I apologize for having you say it.”

“And you want me to report you?” You raise a brow at him. “Want me to just storm right into HR and tell her how you’re a fucking pervert? Want me to tell her how you told me to repeat your name? To thank you for it? Is that really what you want?” 

Are you enjoying yourself a little too much? Maybe.

Sunghoon doesn’t respond though, instead, he runs his hand through his hair and sighs from the stress welling up inside of him. He can only act calm and collected for so long, and it’s been eleven days already. He hates how hearing you say those words goes straight to his cock at a time like this, he hates even more how all of this could have been avoided if he had simply declined your second call. 

But you’re not wrong. He is a pervert, and he did tell you to thank him for the pleasure you were getting from his voice and half image alone. At the time, he was so turned on he really just couldn’t help himself. You fed his sexual appetite unknowingly and now this is the consequence of his action. Being a known pervert.

Is it what he wants though? To be reported? Humiliated?

Fuck.

Arguably, just having you humiliate him like this is enough. Drives him crazy, really. Whether it be from arousal or guilt, or both. 

And for the first time since you started working here, you see him for what he truly is. A strong man to an extent, but he’s crumbling under his own mistake and it makes you wonder just how far he would’ve taken it had you not found out. 

“And what if I didn’t realize who I was fucking myself for?” You glare. “Would you have asked for more? Avoided me here even more? Would you have declined my application for the assistant position because you can’t come to terms with the fact that you’re a fucking pervert?!”

Sunghoon raises his hands in defense. 

“Please–” His voice sounds panicked. “Please, keep your voice down.”

“Answer the question, then. Just fucking own it at this point.” You throw your arms up now, letting them fall back down in a slap to your thighs. “Would you have made my work-life miserable just so you could watch me get off to you? Knowing the whole time? Would you have kept on with that boss slash employee shit just so it felt more real for you?” 

Staring forward at him, you watch him accept that everything you’re saying is likely exactly what would have happened. Maybe he really will try to own it. Which would be… a good thing if you decide to let your own resolve falter.

So fucking secretive, huh? An actual, real life degenerate? And it’s Sunghoon of all people? 

“Maybe…” Sunghoon trails off, making himself seem much smaller than he usually is on a day-to-day basis. “I mean, No–I,”

Oh, he’s actually stuttering.

“And you want me to tell on you? You want me to fuck your life up?” You raise a brow. “As if I didn’t pay you to do it?”

In all honesty, aside from the anxiety and awkwardness, and despite never once thinking of Sunghoon too sexually, things have changed. Drastically. Especially after being confronted with this situation and he’s not intimidating you or using his power to control you. No, he’s giving you the power and quite frankly, you don’t know what to do with it. 

Are you basking in it? Absolutely. Is it nice to see him cower in front of you? In that big plush chair that costs more than your monthly income? Hell yeah.

But goddamn, had he approached you before all of this and asked for a date, or showed interest, you would have gladly partaken in a secret romance with him. He’s intelligent, attractive, clean, and has money. It’s not like you ever expected the guy to go home and fuck himself on camera. 

You never thought he was the type to be so lonely either. Or so desperate, judging by how he acted during those two sessions. Arguably, you always wondered why there was never a ring on those pristine fingers. 

And while you were definitely the victim in this situation, you feel more embarrassed than you do violated. Many nights you thought of how he spoke, how he said how badly he wanted you. It’s embarrassing because you’re starting to love the idea of who those words really came from. The Park Sunghoon, so untouchable in the business world. So untouchable by women and men solely because he appears to be too expensive, too pristine.

But you…

You’ve seen him dirty. 

Part of you wishes you didn’t pay to be humiliated like this. The rest of you wishes you didn’t fucking like it as much as you do.

“It’s only fair.” Sunghoon explains with a short breath. “I feel awful for what I’ve done, and I should have told you the moment I recognized her as, well–” He pauses with a pained face, as if he hates hearing himself say it. “You.”

“Then, why didn’t you?” You raise your brow again, nearly forgetting you’re at work, solely focused on the conversation at hand and feeling relieved at the way it’s going.

Sunghoon shifts in discomfort, looking away from you.

“Do you want honesty?” He asks in a quiet voice, leaning forward on his desk but refusing eye contact. He keeps his gaze lowered the entire time, his voice small and shaky. 

There’s still people in the office, though his door is closed and it’s unlikely he can be heard.

You nod to him with an even smaller “Go on then.”

“I tried to convince myself that it wasn’t you.” He says, shifting his hands and picking at his cuticles. 

Man, he really knows how to act sorry, doesn’t he?

“I avoided you after that first call, solely because I think I wanted her to be you. Which is…incredibly inappropriate.” 

He looks up at you now, searching for a reaction and only seeing you nod at him. His eyes shift right back down as he continues. 

“My avoiding you led you to– um– more services.” He explains quieter, admitting in full the situation he’s allowed to take place, seeming more and more insecure with his words than he ever has before. “I can admit that I have fantasies and needs.” 

Silence. 

“After that first call, I couldn’t help but be entirely attracted to you. The idea of–”

You suddenly find yourself thinking back to all of those things he said to you again, parading as if he wasn’t your boss, telling you what he'd do if he were. He seems to have accidentally found a sexual interest in the dynamic…and he fucking dragged you into it with him. 

“Mr. Par– Sunghoon.” You cut him off, actually feeling a bit of pity now at his admittance. 

His words make you feel like maybe he’s not entirely just a pervert who was intending to make you get off to him from the start. If anything, he probably felt uncomfortable at first knowing who was on the other end of the call. It’s the fact that his real life job was at risk if you found out, and still he indulged despite that. He accepted that second call, he asked for more, he acted like he really does want you.

 To the extent that losing his job was in the front of his mind and he still did it. He ignored the danger of it and prioritized getting off…with you. You find yourself wondering if this would have happened to any other employee under him if they happened to stumble across his stream too. 

Part of you wants to pretend he wouldn’t, because the idea that all of this is happening solely because it was you? It hits a little too hard, a little too deep. 

“Okay, okay. Stop,” You say, keeping your eyes on him and willing him to look up at you. “You don’t have to keep explaining, I get it.”

“No.” He does meet your eye this time, stopping your brain of all thoughts at how differently you see him now versus all the times before. “I do.” 

He’s so honest. Probably too honest for his own good. Maybe that’s why he’s so good at his job, maybe that’s why everyone loves him. Maybe a bit of lying would help him in this situation if it were anyone else, but for you? 

You kind of enjoy the way he’s telling the truth. Admitting that he was desperate, apologizing for wanting you even if just for a brief moment.

“I asked you to turn on your camera for selfish reasons. I asked you to say my name, then I made the mistake of exposing myself because I–” He hesitates, closing his eyes and breathing in deeply through his nose. “I struggled to pretend it wasn’t me, and that she wasn’t you. I very well knew what I was doing, and at the time, I wished that you did too.”

More silence as you stare at him, stunned, slightly in awe. 

“But I knew you wouldn’t have reciprocated. What I’ve done is criminal, and I am encouraging you to report me for it if that’s what you deem necessary.” 

“And if I don’t?” You don’t leave any more room for silence now, feeling desired and validated. 

You can’t pretend that you’re mad, though you were previously. You simply can’t pretend that, now at least, you wouldn’t reciprocate. If anything, you’re more interested now than you think you ever would have been before. 

“We can forget any of this ever happened. I’ll stop streaming and accepting private calls, and we can hopefully move forward without any ill-feelings of one another.” He blinks at you, near pleading with his eyes. “I’ll push your application through– That is, if you still want the position.” 

Sunghoon does wince at the bribe, considering he’s never done such a thing let alone commit acts of sexual harassment, or perhaps even non consensual foreplay with someone. It really really wasn’t entirely intentional, and he’s disgusted with himself. If you report him, he’d take the hit to his reputation and career, but if you don’t…what then?

Ill-feelings, he says? If anything, you might feel more ill parading around like you wouldn’t want him to do all of those things he said previously, with free-will to say as he pleased without the fear of you knowing who the words were coming from. 

“Can you please stop with the professional talk?” You hum out with an exhausted eye roll.  “I don’t want the promotion if you’re just offering it so I don’t rat you out.” You narrow your eyes now and lean yourself forward. “You hope to forget this ever happened? Really?” 

Carefully, the two of you watch each other for a while longer. Sunghoon looking like he’s about to catch himself on fire, and you, looking annoyed and amused. Still, the thick air in the room starts to feel suffocating under the pressure of the “issue” at hand as you scold him further. 

“What you did was predatory. But– I don’t want to ruin your life over this.” 

You watch as Sunghoon listens, his posture opening up a bit more as you speak, showing that he’s being relieved of his stress through your words alone. 

“Are you trying to hold a promotion over my head over this?”

Before he gets the chance to curl in on himself again, you answer for him. 

“Maybe.” 

You continue too, not letting him speak for the time being. Or, rather, giving him a chance to breathe. 

“Should you change your username and continue doing what you want behind closed doors because it’s no one else’s business?” You really watch him this time. “Yes.” 

He blinks at you, raising a brow in slight confusion. 

“Did you take advantage of me?”

He nods before you whisper out another “yes” yourself. 

“Would I let you do it again…?”

Oh, for Sunghoon, it’s hard to breathe right now as he anticipates what you’ll say. Is it going to be a ‘no’ this time? Are you going to stand up and change your mind? Despite just stating you don’t want to ruin his life?

God, hasn’t he already let you?

“Yes.”

Pause. 

“I’m sorry?” Sunghoon responds in disbelief, shifting his eyes to his hands and then back to you. “Come again?”

“Sunghoon.” You make it a point to call him by his name now, ignoring the etiquette of a proper boss and employee dynamic. “I am humiliated by all of this but I can see that you are too. You’ve admitted your guilt and even go as far as encouraging that I report you.” You pause again, knowing that this isn’t where the conversation should be going for any, uh, normal person, you suppose. 

“If you had just told me. If you had said anything about wanting to, like, fuck me, I would have done it with or without the promotion on the line.”

Does that make you sound a little desperate? Yeah. But it’s not like he doesn’t know how badly you need to be fucked. After all, you know, the cam sessions and stuff. You were literally paying a stranger to get you off. 

Shouldn’t he, of all people, know that you were bad-off enough to get laid?

Sunghoon’s issue though, is that he never looks at his employees sexually. No matter how pretty, no matter how much they flaunt themselves at him. He never has, and probably never will again. If it hadn’t been for that single first session with you, all would be well. But now? He’s too attracted to you. 

He wants you so badly.

“If you tell me right now that you want me, in the same way you did on that call–” You stop yourself to really look at him. With the way he swallows, the way his lips slightly part, the way his hands show signs of eleven days worth of nervous habit cuticle picking. “If you do all of those things you said you’d do ‘if you were my boss’...”

“Wait, wait–” Sunghoon stands in a rush, causing you to jump slightly at the sudden sound echoing off of the walls in the office. “Do you understand the consequences of what you’re implying right now?”

“If I fuck my boss, we could both be fired?” You smile, feeling the confidence raise within you. Watching the way he reacts to your lewd words face to face rather than through a microphone. 

“That would be…correct.” He raises a brow. 

“Well, technically, you’ve already been fucking me.” You look away from him, feeling a bit shy even with the confidence, but never having spoken to a man so bluntly before like this? It’s a bit scary. “Would it really make anything worse if, you know, I do reciprocate?”

Goddamn. Sunghoon might be a bit smitten. This situation could have gone a thousand different ways, and you offer the one that includes your legs spread across this fucking desk and his face buried between them?

Oh. Never has he been so willingly turned on at work. 

“Is this what you want?” He asks in a breath, shifting his eyes to the door and walking towards it, immediately reaching for the lock but not quite turning it. 

“Is that what you want?” You counter, turning and staring at the lock. 

Sunghoon hides his nod, wanting you to be the one to answer first. After all, hasn’t he been self-indulgent enough?

“Do you want me to fuck you?” He finally breaks and says it, blatantly, not sugar coated, yet still sweet when the words hit your ears. “After all this, you still want it?” 

You nod, dipping your head a bit against your shoulder. 

Click. 

“I guess I should have known.” Sunghoon plays with his words now, hand dropping from the now locked door and eyes entirely on you. “Do you want me to fuck you, or would you prefer–”

“You.” You smile, feeling your skin prickle at the electricity that enters the room through breath and words alone. It’s the way he already shifted. Like all of that anxiety melted out of him within an instant. 

“No, no.” He stalks towards you now, the nervous Sunghoon is no longer in sight as he makes himself seem bigger, taller, far more intimidating. Just like he was on camera. “The me you saw on screen is not the same as what you’re seeing right now.” He tries to explain. 

“Oh?” You tilt your head, and he only finds that cute. 

Far too cute. 

“You’d do as I ask, right?” His voice shifts to a raspy whisper as he centers himself in front of you, both hands reaching the arms of your chair as he hovers above you. “I’m far more tame online.” 

Tame?! That’s what he calls tame?! 

You stare up at him, keeping your jaw from falling slack as you physically see him shift from being your boss into being a man with a need. Not just any need either. A need for you.

Part of you wonders if he ever truly felt bad in the first place about all of this, because the shift from just moments ago is so dramatic it’s almost scary. 

“So, tell me.” He leans down, inches from your face as his eyes start to fall to a half-lidded stare at you. “You’ll do as I say? You’d let me do it all for you, and not ask me to stop until I feel it best, yes?”

You swallow and slowly nod. Oh god, it really, really, is him. 

“And while at work, you’ll behave?” He continues, lips now ghosting over yours to the point you can almost feel them press down. He’s implying that if you don’t tell, that this won’t be the only time too? Shit. He’s entirely aware of why this shouldn’t be happening, but still making it happen.

 “No matter what I do to you, where or how I do it, you’ll behave?”

You can’t help it when you lift your chin, just a bit to rest your lips against his words, eyes falling closed and hands hesitant to reach out for his perfectly ironed shirt. 

You feel his smile against your lips, with that sharp-toothed grin he rarely offers. 

“Ah, so it’s true.” He murmurs against you, his hand reaching for yours and guiding it for you, straight to his belt. “Dirty, dirty girl.”

A small, pleased, sound leaves your throat when he does kiss you, adding his own pleased hum alongside yours as his hands still hold yours in place over his belt, not quite letting you do anything just yet.

”Gonna be quiet–” He whispers into your mouth, just against your tongue before licking out and against it. “Even when I tell you to moan my name?”

You really shouldn’t be surprised, but you still are. You like this Sunghoon better than the one who stutters and picks his cuticles. He’s owning it, and in a way, so are you. 

 After all, it wasn’t until today that you truly learned what Sunghoon is like when he’s aroused. Not that you ever should have known in the first place. The fact that you do know, the fact that he’s showing you? It just makes this all the more arousing, in your opinion.

All he needed was a green light and within seconds it seems, Sunghoon became the need you’ve been chasing for months now through porn sites and erotic novels. 

You nod to his words, trying to drop your hand just a bit to feel what you’ve already seen. Just to feel how warm he is, how—

“Is that so?” Sunghoon whispers in an amused tone, guiding your hand right back to his belt, only to drop his other hand straight between your legs. “You’re supposed to do as I say. If I tell you to moan my name, you do it.”

Oh, the sexual confusion of what to do and which Sunghoon to obey. All you can do is continue to nod for him, hanging your head with a breath at the way he cups his hand over the entirety of your core. You wore pants today in order to hide your shame, to try and feel invisible based on previous circumstances. You’re not so happy about that now, as you try to feel his touch through the thick fabric only to shamelessly thrust your hips up and against his palm.

He moves his lips to the top of your head now, hovering over you in a perfect stance of power, hand gently rubbing up and and down despite your hips asking for a harsher touch. If anything, it makes him feel better knowing how you react to this. 

In actuality, his relief is sending his arousal through the roof. Not only are you not going to rat him out but…you want more of it? More of him, in particular? Not the facade of him online? 

At this point, if he gets caught, you’re both going down in flames. So, why not enjoy the ride?

Truly, it’s laughable in the way he’s just as amused as he is turned on, relishing in the fact that he wants you and you’re letting him have you despite his past actions. You’re messy too, he’s seen it, and now he gets to feel it. 

“Mhm,” Sunghoon hums against the top of your head, now pressing his own hips forward against your hand. “Feel that?”

The electricity? How hard he is? How needy you are?

”Yeah…” You sigh absentmindedly, bumping his chin with your head when you try to look up at him. You only blink twice before he coos out with a sad little sound. 

He doesn’t say a word after as he removes his hand and instead, grabs both of your hands and places them on his shirt. 

“Go on.” He smiles, waiting to see you to start fumbling against his buttons. 

And fumble, you do. Touching him, for some reason, feels so dangerous. Knowing you’re the one removing his shirt, watching his skin be revealed as it begins to fall open by your own doing? It’s electrifying. Enough to lose your train of thought as you study how toned and smooth his skin is. Just like how you had seen on camera, so clear in front of you now. You’re aching for him by this point, being able to feel his body heat, touch him, feel his eyes on you. 

If you had really known back then who it was you were talking to, you very well may have pretended to not know as well, judging by the way your entire body catches fire for him. 

And as his shirt falls completely open, he’s satisfied with the way you do it. Complacent and docile beneath him, nervous fingers shaking much like he did for the past eleven days. With those pretty eyes looking at him, like there’s nothing in your head at all. 

He chuckles at you, grabbing your hands again and placing them right on his chest, helping your hesitant touch to massage and caress each bump and toned muscle. He intentionally flexes the further down your hands go, all the way back to his belt. 

There, he looks down at where you touch, then back at you with a quirked brow. You stare  up at him, blinking, face feeling hot, and it’s like you move your hands on instinct. The sound of his buckle being unclasped echoes in the room, and his eyes only darken with the sound.

The sound of it slipping from the loops when he takes it upon himself to remove it completely for you, the sound of his breathing, the sound of that zipper, the button, the shuffling of his pants being skewed down just enough to fit your hand inside.

He moans at the image alone, loving the way your smaller hand looks slipping down his pants, the way your breathing is somehow even as if you’re trying to keep yourself calm. So calm, so pretty, but he knows how needy you are. He shouldn’t, but he does, and he uses it to his advantage. 

You’re the one who moans this time upon feeling that little twitch of his cock urging you to grab. And he helps you too, with the way he guides your hand under the front of his pants further, forcing your fingers to grab and grope the thick of his cock, uncomfortable and pressing between his briefs and undone zipper. 

“Still, you’re just looking.” Sunghoon comments, pressing his hips forward slowly and gently. “I’m right here.” He continues to explain the situation to you, as if you’re not experiencing it. “You need me to show you how to touch me too?”

You hesitate with a groan caught in your throat. You’re still processing the size difference that you feel now versus what you saw. Bigger. Thicker. Heavier than you would have expected against your palm. Honestly, you were so focused on the fact that Sunghoon’s cock is currently fucking forward against you that you almost forgot how to jerk a man off by yourself. 

His hand had been doing all the work for you, and you’re quick to take over. 

Sunghoon lends a very small gasp at the way you try to grasp, and instantly both of his arms shoot to the chair behind your head. He grips it, dropping his chin to the top of your head before thrusting a bit harsher into the grip you try to hold on him. 

“Harder.” He exhales, his cock twitching in your weak hold. “Grab me harder.”

You do, squeezing the bulge before intentionally adjusting it for him, allowing the head of his bulbous cock to peek from the top of his briefs. 

His relieved sigh is enough, you can’t help it. With his chin sat atop your head like this, you have no choice but to watch the way he moves his hips. Just like he did on camera. His abs flex with each movement, his arms grip behind you on the chair tighter, and you couldn’t pull your eyes away from his desperate body even if you wanted to. 

You thrust up too, as if your body craves what you’re already touching. And you do crave it, so much so that your clit aches against the denim you’re rubbing up against. Unfortunate that you wore these fucking jeans, honestly.

“Mr. Park–” You let out a small and frustrated cry, using your other hand to try and fail at unbuttoning your own pants. 

He hides his smile at the way you’ve reverted back to his professional title, but pays no mind to it because that’s what he wanted to hear in your voice that night. A desperate sound of his name, a plea, a cry. He can’t help but cling to it and bury that pretty voice into the darkest parts of his brain. A memory he’ll revisit time and time again after this. That sound, those pretty lips, this weak grasp you have. For the time being, it’s his. You belong to him right now. 

“Hm?” He hums out, fucking his hips forward while tilting his head back to look at you. “What is it, baby?”

Oh. You lost your train of thought. 

Thankfully, he seems to do the thinking for you as he shifts his eyes down and watches you try to both please him and remove your own pants. A cute sight to him, really. Someone who was just scolding him for wanting this, fumbling for more? 

So cute. 

He chuckles, pulling his hips back from your hand and grabbing it, unbothered by the loss of your touch. Instantly he intertwines his fingers with yours, and grasps your other hand from your pants to do the same. Both your arms raise by his guidance to the back of the chair before he releases them. 

You watch with a slack jaw and half-lidded eyes as he lowers himself, right onto his knees before he unbuttons your pants for you and very politely pulls them from your legs. 

“This what you want?” He smiles, lying his cheek right against your exposed thigh and taking a deep inhale. It’s taking everything in him not to fawn over the woman who had him in his thoughts for the past however long, truly. 

Then again, he’s weak. He doesn’t even look up at you through his words and, instead, nuzzles his nose right up and against the seat of your panties before inhaling with a pleasant hum. “To have me finally touching this pretty pussy for you?” 

God damn, if you didn’t already know it was him on that camera, you do now. He speaks the same type of words, with the same confidence, the same sultry tone…

You can barely comprehend the way he slowly takes his own pants off because you’re too focused on the way he runs his lips across your skin with dirty thoughts spilling from them. Fingers tucked under either side of your panties in preparation before he eventually pulls them off of you. 

“Did you wear those pants to hide yourself from me?” He comments now with an amused tone. “Knowing you wanted me to take them off of you anyway?”

You shake your head at him, holding your breath. You did wear them to hide, but you never would have expected this situation to go in a direction involving his mouth anywhere near where you need it. Sure, you assumed he would have rejected you, you assumed that if it was him– he’d have been so disgusted with himself that he’d only gag at your presence. 

But no. You were bold in your words, and he seems to feed into that. 

“No?” He furrows his brows and lifts his head. Now lowering your panties much like he did for your pants. He’s quick with his next action, seemingly hiding his own desperation through playful comments at you. “Why not?” He adds, instantly pressing his thumb against your clit and fucking shining his eyes up at you with a semi-pouted mouth. 

You roll your eyes back at the sudden pressure, relaxing your shoulders and slouching down in the chair. Your legs spread further on instinct, granting him a full view of your sticky cunt parting open for him.

His eyes glance down, peering into the heat you offered once before ever knowing it was him looking. Clicking his tongue, he can’t help but bite his lower lip to hold himself back. He hopes you don’t notice the way his hand finds its way to his own cock, he really, really hopes you don’t see him act so pathetic over this. 

But you do. The moment your eyes roll back into place and get a look at him. One of his shoulders is moving, but the action is hidden by not only the chair, but his fucking face. He’s got his lips parted and he’s licking his lower lip. Slicking it up with his own saliva before–

“So quiet,” He hums with glistening lips, lending himself a light hold with his cock and pretending it’s you doing it for him. “You have nothing to say for yourself?” He adds now, inhaling once more the scent of your slick dripping for him as he leans in just a bit more.

“Oh–!” You yelp slightly at the feeling of his teeth digging into the flesh just to the side of your core. He bites down harder and harder, licking the flesh between his teeth before sucking hard against it. The sweat and scent of your full-day at work does nothing to calm his raging cock. He loves it and it only grows his appetite for you. Licking, sucking, nibbling at the skin until he’s sure he’ll leave a nice, painful swell to rub against your panties later. Only then does he release your skin from his still-tasting mouth. 

The relief when he releases your thigh is short lived because he offers not even a full two seconds before you feel his mouth circle your clit. Like he can’t help himself, like he can’t tease you right now even if he wanted to. 

 A flick of his tongue sends a shiver down your spine straight to your toes and you can’t stop your legs from immediately wrapping around his head. You hear his muffled “mmf” when you do that, but he keeps you from apologizing for it because his free hand goes straight under your ass and scoots you even closer to his tongue. 

And if you didn’t already think Sunghoon knew how to use that mouth for more than just being a professional business man, you do now. With the way that same tongue that used to taste the morning coffee you’d bring him now tastes you. Deeply. 

He licks, flicks, and sucks every fold. Slurping up any dripping heat that slips out of you before pressing his tongue in and nuzzling his nose against your clit. He’s not quiet about it either. He moans with each lick, hums every time your legs squeeze around his neck, slurps and loudly sucks. 

It’s pornographic, it’s sexy, it’s–

Suddenly, you feel a sharp jolt shoot through you, having not even noticed his hand moving from your ass to your front, moving straight up under your shirt. His fingers immediately find your nipple and pinches hard. So hard that your previous moan only becomes prolonged. Grows louder, breathier. 

He pinches and massages your nipple with the intent to keep you loud for him. Office setting or not, he could give less of a shit about that right now. He ignores the strain on his wrist from your bra, he uses his other hand to grip himself harder, and you can’t help but squeeze him tighter between your thighs until you’re, quite literally, shaking.

Your hips are sliding against his face with each jolt of pleasure, practically riding him, and his cock is now entirely neglected because you can’t help but want more. You need more. And he gives it, by now releasing himself and keeping both hands on you. One holding the outside of your thigh, almost pushing you to squeeze tighter, the other incessantly abusing your nipple. 

He chokes out a moan through his messy movements, never quite knowing where to put his hands solely because he wants to touch all of you. His cock is just fine being neglected, he thinks, as he realizes just how much pleasure he gets from feeling you wrap yourself around him like this. 

It feels better than jerking himself off. 

“Mr. P–” You sigh out, still not quite used to actually calling him his name, but the sound of it reminds you time and time again how wrong this situation is supposed to be. 

You’re sitting on this soft chair, pussy being spread apart by a tongue none other than the man who signs your paychecks. And just this morning you were terrified of him ever even getting a glimpse of you without pants on? God, how stupid could you be? You should’ve been chasing this man’s touch since the day you looked at him for the first time. 

“Fuck–” You moan out for him, brain spitting thoughts at you as each second passes. The danger of this, the fact that he genuinely got off to you before you knew it was him. The secrecy of his perverted thoughts and actions…it’s all so… “So, you’re so – hot.”

You feel him laugh, kissing the pulsing hole of your pussy when he pulls his tongue back to swallow. And for just a few moments, he turns his head, gripping your thigh with his teeth once again before speaking back to you, muffled by the hot skin. 

“Yeah?” He laughs, now pulling his hand from your bra and lifting to your chin, pointing your gaze down at him, forcing you to see the way your thighs nearly suffocate him against your pussy. “Then keep your eyes on me.”

And you do, especially when he uses both of his hands now, nudging them between your legs and forcing them from his shoulders. He rests your legs on the arms of the chair instead and flicks his eyes up at you. 

“You watching?” He makes this a point, blowing a small breath of air straight at your clit before receiving a dazed and slow nod from you. “Keep your legs open too.”

That’s the last thing he says before his mouth is full again, sucking your folds between his teeth before tucking his tongue right back into your hole. He tastes for just a few moments before you feel those same lips on your clit. He lets it throb in his open mouth as he listens carefully to your little sounds, especially now that he’s sliding his fingers into you. 

You gasp, holding your breath at the feeling. His fingers slide in, reaching deep before he scissors them open. And all you feel from it is pleasure. You can’t help that your eyes roll back again, but you do try to keep your gaze fixed on his. With his eyes so rounded, blinking up at you with his strong jaw moving with each swallow of his own muffled moans. 

He sucks your clit, fucks your cunt open, and relishes in the way he will soon get to splay you across his desk and really let you have it. 

And he does this for a few minutes, though in your head it goes by so fast that you nearly get whiplash from the way he pulls back with a wet sound and grins at you.

“Aw, baby–” He coos at the face you make, seemingly disappointed to lose all stimulation at once, but he’s quick to lift to his feet and lean back over you. 

Oh, his cock. It’s right there. 

Oh.

His face– 

“You’re so fucking wet right now.” He murmurs against the corner of your mouth with a raspy whisper, easily and without warning slipping two of his fingers right back into the heat that he just denied himself of licking more. “You hear that?” He continues with a sharp toothed bite to your lip. “How wet you are?”

You groan at the way he slams his fingers in, out, in, out, in…He keeps them there, pressed so far into you that you can physically feel the way your pussy tries to push him out again.

“Could slip it in right now–” He moans out at how tight you clench just his fingers. “Fuck, could be so deep in you.”

Your face feels hot as a bashful feeling overtakes you. His voice hits so much harder when you feel his breath along with it. His fingers, his cock right up against you. You want him to slip it in. To stuff his cock in you so fast, no room to adjust, not a second to even catch your breath. 

God, you need it right now. It’s been too long since you’ve felt a real person touch you, you can’t help that you feel so desperate. The clench isn’t on purpose, your body tells him all he needs to know, all while he tells you all you could only wish to hear fall from someone’s lips.

And not just anyone. His lips. 

You shoot your arms around his neck and it's not really intentional but– an actual kiss. You need it. 

He seems pleased by it though, with the way his tongue immediately asks for more. One hand moves to brace your cheek, the other still fucking into you so good that you can’t keep a single moan down. He takes full control of the initiated kiss solely because you kissed him first. Almost hungrily, he licks into your mouth with his own muffled groan, encouraging you to keep being pretty like this. Just so you can see what he’ll do to you. 

And, damn. He guides your body like a puppet, stiffening his shoulders when he licks into your mouth and threatening to pull away by raising  himself up just a bit. He knew you’d chase the kiss, and you do. You lift with him, your ass lifting from the chair just to keep his tongue against yours, and he takes the elevated position and angles his hand just a bit. There, his fingers fuck into you harder, faster, so much fucking deeper until– you feel his fingers stop at a painfully deep spot inside of you. 

He pulls back from the kiss, looking down between your bodies, and your eyes follow his gaze. Right there, he’s placed his knee up against his own wrist, forcing his fingers to remain deep and unmoving in you. 

You take in a sharp inhale, seeing the way he lets your body fall back to the seat of the chair, only forcing him to skew his fingers and– “Oh, god!”

You moan out so suddenly that it even shocks him for a moment, but he takes your weakness and uses it to his advantage. Quickly, he licks into your moaning mouth, tickling his fingers upwards, pulling even more animalistic sounds from you. 

“Yeah?” He whispers frantically, so turned on by the way your entire body stiffens. “Right there?” He continues, leaning his full body weight forward with his knee, wincing at the way he presses his cock against anything he can find in the process, just to get you off right here, right now. 

You nod just as frantically, toes curling, arms shooting to the chair in a form that should appear as discomfort, but really you’re just bracing yourself through the tensing of your muscles before all of them relax and pulse at once. 

Your ears pop, but you can still hear your desperate cries of his name somewhere distant. You can even hear him, humming and encouraging your orgasm. You wish you could hold your eyes open to see him, to grab him and force him to fuck his fingers hard into you. God, you could take it right now. You could take just about anything to heighten this feeling of stars bursting behind your eyelids. 

Somehow though, it’s like he knows. Half-way through your orgasm, you feel the weight between your legs shift and his fingers start moving again. Still, your eyes are squeezed shut, and you can't help but to lunge forward and hug against his neck, clinging to him through the prolonged orgasm that his fingers alone have brought to you. 

“Squeezing me so tight–” Sunghoon groans, unsure of if he’s referring to the way your needy cunt crowds his fingers, or the way you cling to him like a lost pet, begging for him to never leave your sight. “Fuck, you’re so pretty like this.”

You hear those words over any of his others. So clear in your head as you snap your head up and look at him. You see him lower his gaze, but your grip doesn’t quite allow him to actually look down at you. Not when he has to physically hold you up anyway. Still, he looks amused up there, knowing that single compliment must’ve hit somewhere inside of you.

You’re not sure why, through all this, Sunghoon calling you pretty makes it so much more intimate. And even as your legs continue to shake, and you release your death grip hug on him, he keeps himself crowded up to you. He’s somehow out of breath just like you are, relishing in the calm silence of your post orgasm as he…Jesus.

It’s not just your imagination. Somehow, it is intimate. It’s the way he pulls his fingers out and both hands shoot to your face. First, he kisses you as if you’re a long lost love. Deeply, slowly. Then, he’s putting one hand at the small of your back, nudging his knee right back between your legs, and pulling you right up against him. 

“Who did you cum for?” Sunghoon asks, pulling back just to lick against your lips and stare directly down at you. “Say my name.”

You don’t hesitate, echoing out with a winced expression, still so out of breath while rubbing your clit to the expanse of his thigh. 

“Su-Sunghoo-Sunghoon-” 

“Yeah?” He encourages you, hearing his name heat his ears up. He moves his pussy-slicked fingers to your mouth while you cry his name, and easily presses your tongue down with them, sliding the digits further and further down your throat. “Sunghoon.” He says his own name. “Say it again.”

You gag around his fingers, unable to obey his demand. 

“Sung–” He inspects the way your tongue struggles against the intrusion in your mouth. “Hoon.” 

You swallow around them now, sputtering, tears now running down the outer apples of your cheeks. He watches you do it too, wondering how good that would feel if it were his cock you’re swallowing around. Knowing you’d probably do it for him if he wanted to right now. 

But…he needs more than that. Despite how delicious you look while gagging, his cock has been neglected and he needs to fuck out the stress from the past however long you’ve been avoiding him. It’s like his brain breaks with the action as he watches you take his fingers in whatever way he offers. You let him do whatever he wants. You’re obeying. 

“Up.” He suddenly says, pulling all physical contact with you away as he turns, steps out of the pants restricting his ankles, and swipes every pen, file, and picture frame off his desk. “Come here, baby.”

You feel like you’re melted to this chair right now, in all honesty. You’re still trying to catch your breath just from touching his cock before he decided to make you see fucking stars, to think you can stand right now is insane.

So, when you don’t immediately hop up and throw yourself onto his desk, he turns to look at you. 

You’re splayed out, legs still spread, toes still curled. Your chest is heaving to breathe, eyes wild and lips so fucking kissable. 

“Oh, fuck.” He sighs to himself in realization, relishing in the image of you he’s only recently been craving. “Look at you.”

You lift your arm to hide your face, feeling apologetic for the way you’ve lost the ability to exist as an active participant right now. Even more apologetic when you glance down at how fucking hard his cock is. Raging hard, so pretty with the tip sputtering precum for god knows how long. 

He watches you stare, and lends you a few moments to catch your breath by gripping it himself. Leaning himself against his desk and twisting his wrist with a tight grip at the base. 

“Is this how you looked at me when I did this before?” He asks, flicking his wrist still with each drag. “So out of it, you look like such a mess, babe.”

You find yourself humming a confirmation to him as you watch, almost reverting back to who you were during that first session. Unseen, only heard, all while you got to see him pleasure himself to almost nothing. You gave him nothing. 

You’ve still only given him nothing. 

And so, very slowly, you force yourself to stand on shaking legs to take those two strides to his desk. Something inside of you tingles when he drops his cock and opens his arms for you, like a good boss would do in this situation. Supporting your unbalanced weight, letting you walk into his comforting grasp. 

“Said my name so pretty, you know.” He comments gently when he holds you close to him. Hands reaching down from the grip around your waist just to grab both of your fleshy ass checks and squeeze them. “You want more, yes?”

He’s quick to the point, only allowing the short and sweet moments to last just enough for them to stick in your head. Just enough to have questions about his actions. Just enough to give him anything, everything, he could want if it involves your body.

You nod almost shyly, dipping your head down and leaning against his chest. 

“Let's get this off of you then.” He smiles with a gentle voice, reaching to the hem of your shirt and pulling it straight up, watching how you lift your arms to help him. “Mhm–” He hums again, loving how the bra drags off of you along with the shirt. He lets both of his hands brush your nipples before he goes back to gripping your ass cheeks and spreading them. 

Spreading them so wide that, once again, you have to lift on your toes just to let him play with your body. Which, oh man. Always wearing his button down shirts, his blazers, his long-sleeve shirts. You can’t help it when you tug at the opened fabric of his shirt, asking silently that he shake it off. Wanting to see his arms, wanting to see the strength in them.

And he does it without hesitation, letting his hands fall from you just for a moment to shake his shirt off, only now hugging against you again and forcing a position change. He turns both of you so now you’re up against his desk, and he’s standing in front of you.

It’s easy for him to push you back in a kiss. Your legs open for him on instinct anyway, so he need not worry about prying those legs open again. You do just as expected when he pushes you too. Your ass hits the desk and you lift on your toes to sit on it. Your legs spread wider, making room for him to step even closer, cock right up against you when he closes any amount of distance, and still? He’s kissing you. 

All across your face, down your neck, back to your lips. And his hands just keep feeling. Massaging your tits, lending small taps to your ass, holding your chin, jaw, neck, and then…he runs them through your hair. 

The feeling is so good you almost forget how you’ve been trying to steal a glimpse of his flexing arms as he grabs at you. Goosebumps prickle and you let out a groan at the pleasure of it. He keeps one hand there now, smiling against his kiss to your ear. 

“You like being pampered?” He asks, now gripping a fist full of your hair and skewing your neck to the side. “Like being moved around like a puppet?”

Never once have you thought about your sex life that way, but when you think about it…maybe. After all, you did enjoy being told when and how to touch yourself, being allowed or forbidden from cumming. Now, with him quite literally moving you around with just a simple grip of your hair? Yeah. 

“By you–” You mutter out as you open your eyes, staring at the ceiling and feeling his tongue lap against your earlobe. 

“Just me?” He leans back, using that same grip in your hair to force you to look at him. “You’d give me that power?”

You nod against the grasp, lips falling open in a moan despite not being pleasured by anything aside from the stinging against your scalp as he pulls little hairs a bit too tightly. 

“You know–” Sunghoon starts now, pressing his hips forward, dropping his other hand to his cock and slapping it right against your weeping cunt. “If I had known you were this dirty...”He sighs out at the image in his head, thinking back to all those times he silently complimented you in his head. Back then, never would he have made comments about your legs out loud, or how your tits would look in certain shirts. Thinking back now, he’s always found you quite beautiful.

Quite fuckable, even. 

You listen to the silence waiting for him to continue, feeling the way he presses the hardened head of his length against your clit repeatedly. 

“I would have propped you up on this desk months ago,” He smiles now, leaning in real close to your ear as his grip in your hair loosens just a bit. “Could’ve had you moaning my name this whole time.”

Then, you feel it. The way he adjusts his weeping cock lower, prodding at your hole just a bit until his tip is entirely enveloped by your clenching walls. 

You swallow a moan and hold your breath, legs shooting around his waist and instinctively trying to force his hips to move forward, trying to force him to penetrate you deeper.

“Shh,” He coos out, holding his hips firm and not letting you control his movements. Then, he kisses just under your ear before peppering them all the way back to your lips. He doesn’t kiss you though, no, he chuckles at you for trying. Watching you let your tongue fall from your mouth, inspecting the way you’re entirely in tune for him right now. “You really want it, don’t you?” He whispers just above your lips. “Want me to fuck you right here, right now?”

You nod absentmindedly, legs still trying to force him to move, arms clinging under his biceps, head still forced into whatever position he keeps it in by the hair. 

“Please–Sunghoon.” You cry in a small voice, feeling as if you’re going insane by the feeling of his tip sitting comfortably in you. 

“You’re so cute.” He smiles, lending you another inch of his length before letting his hand fall from your hair. There, he grips your waist instead, letting a strained grunt fall from his own lips this time. He’s really trying to remain collected about this, and he’s unsure himself why he’s enjoying the act of teasing you like this. He feels like he’s teasing himself more than you right now, seeing as how it’s taking everything in him not to stuff his cock into you hard and fast. “So–so, fucking cute.”

You clench around the few inches in you and it appears that’s all he needed to break entirely. Is he controlling you, or are you controlling him? 

Honestly, who gives a fuck?

You feel his arms shake when he plants them at either side of you, pointing his cock straight into you and sliding in fully. There’s a groan from him that you want to hear so badly, but your own heart beat is thumping in your ears so loudly that you miss half of it. 

The stretch is delicious, and the fact that it’s Sunghoon doing this to you makes this all the more enjoyable. The man who you’ve seen day after day, now holding himself up on the desk you’ve signed papers on with and for him? All so he can angle his hips and shove his cock in? Just to let his arms frantically wrap around your waist? Just so he can scoot you forward on this desk, using your leaking slick to slide you back and forth in time with his hips? 

That groan you wanted to hear? He hasn’t stopped. He’s essentially, controlling the entire situation and when you half open your eyes to witness his face, you’re forced to roll your eyes back in a moan matching his. 

He’s fucking you so deeply right now that all you can do is moan, all you can do is forget the embarrassment, the victimization, the way he’s doing this to you despite the risk of reality crumbling. He could lose his job, you could lose yours, and yet still– he’s fucking you like he doesn’t care.

So, you choose not to care either in the form of grabbing his hair, forcing his head back, and attaching your lips right against his adams apple. You feel him swallow and breathe out a shocked sound, and then? You suck.

Intentionally, you suck, bite, and lick, harder and harder until there’s a deep purple mark there. He doesn’t even fight it, though you feel him try to move his head just to keep you from going too insane with it. You don’t care though, because still you feel his cock splitting you open, forcing you to adjust to him. 

“Ah,” Sunghoon lets out another breath with that familiar chuckle, “Marking me now?” 

You hum a confirmation as you move to a new spot on his neck, absolutely fucking marking him. Feeling devastated by the idea that he’d do this with any other employee. Or any other person in general. 

“Making me all yours, huh?” He continues with his cocky words, feeling the way your pussy clenches him tightly, dripping all over his desk. He’d let you make him yours, with or without the bruising from your mouth. 

“Mhm.” You hum pleasantly, letting out little yelps each time he slams into you. Letting out full moans each time his arms wrap around your waist tighter. 

You continue with the act, littering his pretty neck with your touch and loving how he just lets you. Knowing that he’ll show up at work tomorrow looking a bit tired, but glowing nonetheless, trying to hide all these marks with that tight-necked collar he likes to wear. 

“Whatever you want.” He breathes, letting his hips lose rhythm for just a moment as he feels his muscles tighten. “Fuck, you’re still so tight.” 

You feel like you’re on top of the world as he compliments you, to the point you’re not sure when you’ll cum because your whole body has seemingly been feeling euphoria anyway. Everything feels good, even if his cock reaches deep enough to cause little jolts of pain. The sound of the desk scooting back through the force of his hips is enough to make you take it. Enough to squeeze your legs around him tighter, enough to clench, enough to– forget what you’re doing and let yourself fall into it with him.

Your head falls back from his neck and you pant out little half-calls of his name with each thrust. Your legs loosen from around him too, but his grip on your waist only pushes you back on his desk. Until he’s leaning forward so hard with each thrust that suddenly your back meets the cold wood.

Sandwiched between him and his desk, he follows the action, his hands quickly moving from your waist to your tits, pushing them together just so he can nuzzle his face between them.

There, you look at him. You really look at him. 

What a messy, messy, man. Always so pristine during working hours, now looking so wrecked and out of it as he chases a pleasure that you hope only you can give to him. 

“Mr. Park–” You sigh out in a pleasant voice, watching the way he sucks your tit into his mouth before his eyes open wide just so he can look up at you through each thrust. “Harder.”

You can physically see the way his eyes darken when he pops off from your tit, hands now going back to the desk as he hovers over you and intentionally rolls his hips. 

You feel his cock loosen you up painfully before he intentionally fucks into you. Dragging all the way out, just to push forward in a deep and painful thrust. Over and over again, all while he’s staring straight into your eyes.

As you look up at him, you see the intent in his face. The way he wants to give you exactly what you want. Sweat shining from his cheeks, his neck littered with pretty colors. Oh, he’s actually heavenly when he fucks. 

Better than what you thought that guy on camera would have been. He’s not nonchalant like he was when he was performing. He’s entirely in tune with you and what you want. Like what you want is what he wants. 

You can tell he’s paying no mind to his own face or expression, blatantly putting all of his thoughts into how he’s pleasuring you, his eyes searching your face to tell him he’s doing well. To tell him you feel good, to tell him you’re close or–

“Fuck–” He sighs out, teeth tracing his bottom lip as he glances up, keeping pace with the way he’s been plunging into you. “I can’t keep looking at you,”

You smile, feeling dazed and far away. It feels like it’s just you and him. You’re not in his office, on a desk, or doing anything you shouldn’t be doing. 

“You hear me?” He drops his body weight on you again, letting his hips move freely as he chases and chases. “I’m so close.”

Oh. 

“Then look at me.” You huff out, now shooting a hand between his flexed abs and simply…touching your clit once.

 “Oh–shit.” 

It hits you so fast. Just a simple touch causes your pussy to clench Sunghoon so tightly that he mimics your sound. 

“Ah, fuck- fuck,” His voice sounds frantic as he tries to pull out, only to feel your legs shoot back around him. This time, he lets you force him to stay. He lets those legs of yours push him back in, so deep that he knows he can’t fight. “No, no–” He chokes out, uncaring if his hips show you that he’s lying with his words. “I’m cumming– I need to–”

“Stay!” You shake beneath him but your voice sounds pleading, pressing once more to your clit before letting it go. You clench him again, essentially letting your body finish him off. Letting those clenches squeeze him so tightly, making sure he couldn’t fathom ever wasting his cum. “Don’t pull out.”

He doesn’t. In fact, he presses impossibly deeper, trying to bury his cock into you to the point it even pains him. Arms shaking as he tries to hold himself up again, only to drop his lips to yours under his own weight. His hips are so tense between your legs, his cock is so stiff that you can feel each pumped release, and still you’re experiencing your own euphoria through it. 

To the point your toes are curling and you barely notice the way you leave welts across his back from your fingernails through the intense orgasm. To the point his slack lips against yours feel more natural than anything else. Not kissing, just close. So close that–

He kisses you. 

After it’s all said and done, he still kisses you breathlessly. Passionately almost, clinging to you as his cock twitches as it grows flaccid inside of you.

He doesn’t pull out, he just…kisses.

And as you lay against his wooden desk, body coming down from the pleasure you’ve felt more than once within the past hour, all you can do is let your brain think on its own. Without shame, without embarrassment or anxiety. 

You thought Sunghoon would have been in control the whole time. Teasing you, maybe even making this experience more painful than it needs to be. But no, he…

He’s soft. Gentle, almost. 

Only now do you recognize that as badly as he probably wants to appear harsh, like the confident man he is on camera, you think he needs something else. Not just power, not just money or control. Not even just fucking. 

You think…maybe, Sunghoon needs connection. 

Intimacy. 

And that’s proven when he does finally stand on his own buckled knees, pulling you up with him into a hug where he still kisses you. Up until he takes that shirt you unbuttoned and holds it between your legs, scratching the back of his neck with a shy glance at you. 

“Sorry for the mess.” He echoes in a meek voice, holding that shirt firm against you. “Guess I just couldn’t help myself.”

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Days later, you find yourself in his bed. Which should have been expected probably. Still doesn’t change the fact that every few hours, you remind yourself the reality of the situation.

It’s not just any bed you’re in. It’s Sunghoon’s bed. 

“Oh, right. The promotion.” Sunghoon suddenly calls out mid-episode. 

You’ve been here with him all day. To the point neither of you bother to put on clothes now because you know the spark will come back at any given time and you’ll be all over each other again. Still, lazing in his bed with him on a Saturday afternoon is nice. 

“I’ve been a bit occupied but– the interviews for the assistant position has been pushed back a bit due to you not coming to work.  I was supposed to notify you when you got back, but you know, we had priorities–” 

Sunghoon sighs, embarrassed. It’s nice actually, seeing him in his natural element. Allowing you to see him as more than just the guy that wears a suit and tie every day at work. 

“Unrelated to us…doing this, but, you’re up for the interview. Just need to schedule it with me. If you still want to be my assistant, I mean.”

“Oh, I can only imagine what that could entail.”

Sunghoon seems offended by this remark as he pulls back with furrowed brows.

“Excuse me?”

“Did you fuck the last one too?” You give him a playful smile, prodding at his soft-skinned chest.

“Absolutely not?!” 

“You’re still gonna fuck me too though, right? Even if I’m constantly having to nag you for signatures and meetings?” 

Sunghoon stares at you before smiling. 

“Well, let's see if you get the job anyway. Rhonda from Marketing is applying too.”

You lend a half-joke gag at him. 

“Is it too forward to ask for special attention for the position along with a sexual favor?” You tread the thin line. “I’m half joking but wouldn’t it be like…normal for us to be seen around each other at work if I’m working a job that requires it?”

Sunghoon thinks hard.

“You’re really asking to fuck your way up the ladder?”

“Aren’t you the one who offered it so I wouldn’t tell your dirty little secret?” You narrow your eyes at him. “But no, I’m asking for the job I’ve been trying to earn for ages. Besides, I’d still fuck you anyway.”

“Fair.” Sunghoon thinks harder still. “Rhonda would probably find out too, if she were to get the position anyway, considering my assistants are often intertwined in my personal business as well.”

“Oh, I’m personal business now?”

“Babe, my hand has been on your tit for an hour now.” 

Well, he’s not wrong.

“Rhonda is really close with HR too…” You trail off, feeling a bit anxious. “I think she’d hold it over both of us if she found out.” 

“In all fairness, you’ve been considered for the job more than a few times the past few months. Rhonda only applied during your two week avoidance of me. The reason she’s even up for the position is because my boss thinks you’re too flaky.” 

Oh, so you have a chance with or without putting his dick in your mouth again?

“Who else has applied?”

“Confidential.” Sunghoon shrugs. “I still have to follow company rules even if we’re breaking a few of them right now. What I can tell you is, over fifteen other candidates have already been phased out by me personally.” 

You pause.

“Why?”

“Bad matches, mostly. Two of them have been caught talking shit about me through the company emails, and the others? Many outside applicants, all freshman college students with strict schedules.”

“Being my assistant is not an easy job, and even before all of this, you’ve practically been doing the job already, better than the current assistant I have.”

You damn fucking right you have.

“How many are still in the running?”

“Two.”

Oh, this job is soooooo yours. 

“Just, one more thing.” Sunghoon sighs. “If you get this job, we cannot be fucking in my office. No sexual stuff at work. We can take lunch together, or I’ll bring you home after work, but absolutely nothing at work.”

Oh, he thinks you want him that badly? 

“Who says I need to fuck you during work hours anyway? I know how to control myself.”

“It’s not you who I’m worried about.” Sunghoon looks away, biting the inside of his cheek.

“Yeah?” You smile. “You gonna be calling me into your office just to torture yourself?”

“Oh, absolutely.” 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

pls remember to leave feedback and reblog! :D love you!

[star2fishmeg]

Dating Luke and just being so adored by his brothers and Ellen and Jim

You and Luke are perfect for each other. His friends notice it first, how soft you make him, how you blend with his friends socially and vice versa. You aren't just 'the girlfriend', you're one of his best friends, his refuge and shoulder to cry on, his comfort too. He's your first and last thought, comfort, and person too. That's what makes you two work, you suit each other in every aspect, and have the balance between your own lives and your life together.

Jack adores you, from the moment you two met you clicked. You have this unique banter between you that no one else gets but falls victim to. It warms his heart that you always try to include him in New Jersey when you stay over. You'll cook him dinner along with Luke's, you'll buy him a little gift with Luke's and if you're doing yours and Luke's laundry, you'll throw his in too, especially in times when hockey is intense. If it's not a date, you always invite him out or to watch movies too. When you turn up to games, you're cheering for both of them. He just loves how you never make him feel like he's third-wheeling or just watching from the outside. It's like you have your own little family.

Quinn's been rooting for you since Luke first let your name slip. He's watched how you build Luke's confidence outside hockey, and he adores how his little brother has someone to navigate the world with, constantly smiling and giggling with. You don't have to be so selfless, but you are, and Quinn smiles every time he gets a text from you congratulating him on a Canucks win, or when you pitch up at the dock in the summer, at the crack of dawn to help sort the boat out before everyone wakes. To him, you're a friend, not just his brother's girlfriend. He cherishes the little moments where you're both sitting on the sofa, watching some hockey game over the summer and talking hockey for three hours straight.

Ellen and Jim couldn't be happier that you and Luke made it official. They spent many days hearing about you, and seeing photos and the moment they met you they knew Luke wasn't letting you go, not with the way he looks at you. When you spent the first summer at the lake, they were pleasantly surprised at how involved you were, making it easy to know you. Ellen hadn't asked, but you helped her fold laundry, and you happily and quietly learned a lot about each other (and you got to hear some of Luke's embarrassing moments). Jim appreciated how you let him tell his many stories after he'd lost to Jack at golf, in return asking you many questions about your life and specifically how you met Luke, enjoying your company until the sunset. Now, they're always asking after you and whether you'll be around when they visit the boys in New Jersey, how you're doing and if you'll be joining them in Michigan during the summer.

It's safe to say that you've captured the hearts of all the Hughes' and they're more than happy to have you join their family.

[sleepingdiaryzzz]

@errorunfound1

Yandere!neglectful!Batfam x mom!reader

Wayne Manor had always felt vast, but to you, it was more of a void than a home. It was easy to get lost in its endless hallways, in the constant hum of life orbiting Bruce’s nocturnal mission. You married him for love, despite knowing the weight of the life he led. You accepted his scars, his mission, his world. But what you hadn’t expected was how little space there would be left for you in it.

Bruce was always out, chasing shadows, leaving you to navigate a family that seemed determined to keep you at arm’s length. You poured your heart into them—Dick, Jason, Tim, Damian—but your efforts were met with indifference at best and disdain at worst. You had been a mother in every way that mattered, yet the coldness you received in return made your heart ache.

“You don’t have to act like you care,” Jason sneered once when you tried to patch him up after patrol. “We both know you’re just here for him.”

Tim barely acknowledged you unless it was necessary, his head buried in his work. Dick’s smiles, once genuine, now felt like politeness masking discomfort. And Damian, always the sharpest, had no qualms about cutting you down. “You’re not my mother,” he’d said, his words a dagger that twisted in your chest.

Bruce never intervened. When you tried to tell him, his responses were dismissive. “They’ll come around,” he’d say before disappearing into the night. But they never did.

So, you stayed quiet, swallowing the hurt, letting it fester.

One night, you stood in the empty dining room, staring at the cold, untouched dinner you’d prepared. The clock ticked on the wall, counting the hours Bruce was late. Again. You could hear the faint hum of voices from the Batcave below, the family gathered around him while you sat alone.

It wasn’t anger that bubbled up this time. It was resignation.

You left that night, not with a dramatic goodbye, but with a simple bag and a note left on the kitchen counter.

“I love you, but I can’t keep losing myself in a family that doesn’t want me.”

The days without you passed unnoticed at first. Bruce buried himself in his work, assuming you needed time to cool off. The Batkids carried on as usual, their lives too busy to miss the quiet presence you’d once provided.

It was Alfred who noticed first—the meals left uneaten, the flowers on the windowsill wilting. “Sir,” he said carefully one evening, “she’s not coming back.”

Bruce stopped mid-step, his expression flickering. “She just needs time.”

But days turned into weeks, and the absence became impossible to ignore. The manor felt colder, emptier. Jason snapped more often, his temper flaring at the slightest provocation. Tim’s focus wavered, his mistakes piling up in a way they never had before. Damian trained harder, his strikes sharper, but there was a new tension in him, an unease he wouldn’t voice.

“She left us,” Damian said one night, his tone sharp but brittle. “That’s on her.”

“No,” Dick said quietly, guilt heavy in his voice. “It’s on us.”

Bruce found you three weeks later, living in a modest apartment far from the grandeur of Wayne Manor. The door was locked, but that had never been an obstacle for him. He let himself in, his imposing frame filling the doorway as you stood frozen in the kitchen.

“Bruce,” you said, your voice tight.

“Come home.” His tone was soft but firm, the same voice he used to give orders in the field.

Your laugh was bitter, hollow. “Home? That place hasn’t felt like home in years.”

His jaw tightened, the only sign of his frustration. “You belong there. With me. With them.”

“I belonged there once,” you said, your voice breaking. “But I spent years trying to love a family that couldn’t love me back. Do you even realize how much it hurt, Bruce? To be invisible in my own home?”

He stepped closer, his movements slow, deliberate. “I didn’t see it. I should have. But I’m here now.”

“Too late,” you whispered, tears spilling over.

But Bruce Wayne was not a man who gave up easily. His hand reached out, brushing against yours. “You think I’ll let you go that easily?” His voice dropped, a dangerous edge slipping into his tone. “You’re mine. You always have been.”

You pulled away, shaking your head. “You don’t love me, Bruce. You love control. You love having someone waiting for you. But I won’t be that person anymore.”

The silence between you was heavy, suffocating. His eyes bore into yours, and for a moment, you thought he might let you go. But Bruce was nothing if not persistent.

“You’re coming home,” he said, his voice soft but unyielding.

Before you could respond, his hand shot forward, pressing a syringe into your arm. The sharp sting was followed by a wave of dizziness, and your legs buckled.

“Bruce,” you gasped, your vision swimming as he caught you.

“It’s for your own good,” he murmured, his arms cradling you as darkness pulled you under.

(A/n: this is why I don't take money 😅 writing shi asf 😔🔥 chat did I cook or am I cooked?)

[rafeskai]

Life as We Know It — Rafe Cameron

Chapter One

Two opposites must navigate love, loss, and unexpected parenthood to discover the meaning of family.

Summary: When tragedy strikes, two very different individuals find their lives unexpectedly intertwined as they become the guardians of an orphaned child. As they navigate the challenges of co-parenting, balancing careers, and confronting their pasts, they discover that family can form in the most surprising ways. Through heartfelt moments and unexpected humor, they explore what it means to build a life together—one step at a time.

Pairings: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Character deaths & angst.

Author's Notes: Inspired by the movie "Life as We Know It"! Let's pretend Rafe, Sarah, and John B. had a good relationship in this one, okay?

Masterlist: Here

Your phone buzzed on the kitchen counter, the shrill ring cutting through the early evening quiet. You were in the middle of folding laundry, your small apartment illuminated by the fading sunlight streaming through the windows. It was a peaceful, mundane moment—until it wasn’t.

You wiped your hands on a towel before glancing at the screen. Unknown Number. Normally, you’d let it go to voicemail, but something about the pit forming in your stomach made you swipe to answer.

“Hello?”

“Is this [Y/N]?” a man’s voice asked, calm but with an edge that made your chest tighten.

“Yes, this is she. Who’s calling?”

“This is Officer Langley with the Outer Banks Police Department. I... I’m afraid I have some difficult news.”

The world around you seemed to blur. You clutched the phone tighter, your knuckles turning white. “What happened?”

“There’s been an accident,” he said. “Sarah Cameron and John B. Routledge were involved in a car collision earlier this evening. Neither survived. You were one of their emergency contact.”

The words didn’t make sense. They felt foreign, like they belonged to someone else’s story. Your knees buckled, and you stumbled to the couch, sinking into the cushions.

“What about Willa, the daughter?” you whispered, your voice trembling.

There was a pause, and then, “She’s unharmed. The baby was with a sitter at the time. But there’s... another matter we need to discuss.”

You barely heard the rest of his explanation, your mind spinning with the weight of what he’d just told you. Sarah and John B. were gone. Gone.

When the officer mentioned the will, your thoughts screeched to a halt. “I don’t understand,” you said, your voice hoarse. “What do you mean ‘co-guardian’?”

“They named you and Rafe Cameron, her brother, as Willa’s legal guardians,” the officer repeated.

The line went quiet as you tried to process the impossibility of his words. Rafe Cameron? The same Rafe who couldn’t string together a week of good decisions if his life depended on it?

“Is... is he aware of this?” you managed.

“We’ve been trying to reach him. He’s next on my list.”

As if on cue, somewhere across town, Rafe Cameron was staring at his own buzzing phone with a mix of irritation and curiosity. The caller ID was unfamiliar, and he let it ring a few extra times before finally swiping to answer.

“Who is this?” he barked, already annoyed.

“Mr. Cameron, this is Officer Langley with the Outer Banks Police Department. I need to inform you—”

“If this is about the stupid noise complaint, I wasn’t even here last night,” Rafe interrupted, pacing his living room.

“It’s not about that.” The officer’s tone was grave, and Rafe froze mid-step.

“What’s going on?”

“There’s been an accident. Your sister, Sarah, and her partner, John B., were involved in a fatal car crash earlier this evening.”

Rafe’s mouth went dry. He sank onto the edge of the couch, gripping the phone so tightly it felt like it might crack. “What... what do you mean, ‘fatal’?”

“I’m very sorry for your loss,” the officer continued, his voice gentle. “They didn’t survive the collision.”

Rafe’s world tilted. His first instinct was disbelief—this had to be a mistake. But the silence that followed the officer’s words told him otherwise.

“And the baby?” Rafe asked after a long pause, his voice low and strained.

“Willa is safe. She wasn’t with them during the accident,” the officer said. “But there’s something else. According to their will, you and Ms. [Y/N] are named as her co-guardians.”

“What?” Rafe snapped, his disbelief quickly giving way to anger. “That can’t be right. Why would they do that?”

“You’ll need to meet with us to discuss the next steps,” the officer said. “I’ll send over the details.”

Rafe barely heard the rest of the conversation before the call ended. He dropped the phone onto the couch beside him, running both hands through his hair as his mind raced.

Co-guardian? With her?

It wasn’t long before your phone buzzed again, this time with a text from Rafe. His message was short and sharp:

“We need to talk. Now.”

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

The next few hours blurred into a painful haze. You and Rafe found yourselves sitting in the cramped office of the Outer Banks Police Department, a thin folder containing Sarah and John B.'s will resting on the table between you.

The room smelled of coffee and stale air, and the fluorescent lighting above only made everything feel more surreal. You glanced at Rafe from the corner of your eye. He was stiff in the chair beside you, his jaw clenched, eyes red-rimmed but steely.

Officer Langley sat across from you, his expression carefully neutral. Beside him was a lawyer, a sharp-eyed woman in a navy suit who looked as if she’d rather be anywhere else.

“The will is clear,” the lawyer said, her tone crisp and no-nonsense. “Ms. [Y/N] and Mr. Cameron are the appointed co-guardians of Willa Routledge. In the event of Sarah Cameron and John B. Routledge’s passing, the two of you are to assume all parental responsibilities.”

Rafe let out a dry, humorless laugh. “Yeah, that’s great. But let’s be real, you think either of us is qualified to raise a kid?”

“You don’t have a choice,” the lawyer replied without missing a beat. “Unless you want to contest the will, which would result in Willa being placed in temporary foster care until the matter is resolved.”

“No,” you said immediately, your voice firmer than you expected. “That’s not happening.”

Rafe shot you a glance, his eyes narrowing. “And what exactly do you think is going to happen here? You think we’re just gonna team up and play house?”

You didn’t have the energy to argue. “This isn’t about us, Rafe. It’s about Willa. She needs stability, and we’re all she’s got.”

Rafe rubbed a hand over his face, letting out a frustrated sigh. “Fine. Whatever. But don’t expect me to know what the hell I’m doing.”

The lawyer nodded, seemingly satisfied. “We’ll arrange for a formal meeting in a few days to finalize the transfer of guardianship. For now, Willa will remain with her current sitter until the two of you are ready to take her home.”

The word home hung heavy in the air, an impossible concept when everything felt so fractured.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

The hours that followed were a whirlwind. After leaving the police department, you and Rafe were directed to the funeral home to begin arrangements for Sarah and John B.’s services.

Rafe took the lead, though it was clear the responsibility weighed on him. He stood stiffly in front of the funeral director, nodding silently as they walked through options for caskets, flowers, and the service itself.

“They’d want it simple,” Rafe muttered, more to himself than anyone else. “Nothing flashy. Just... something that feels like them.”

You could see the cracks forming in his composure, the grief seeping through despite his best efforts to hold it together.

“I’ll handle the guest list,” you offered softly, hoping to lighten his load in any way you could.

He nodded but didn’t look at you. “Thanks,” he mumbled, his voice tight.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Later, you found yourself sitting in the corner of the funeral home’s waiting area, scrolling through your phone to contact people who needed to know. It was an exhausting task, one that made the reality of the situation sink deeper with every call.

Rafe was pacing the room, his phone pressed to his ear. From the snippets of his conversation, you guessed he was calling his father, Ward.

“No, Dad, I’ve got it under control,” Rafe said, though his tone suggested otherwise. “I don’t need you coming down here and making it about you. Just... send what you need to send and stay out of it.”

The conversation ended with Rafe tossing his phone onto a nearby chair and sitting down heavily. For a moment, the two of you sat in silence, the weight of everything pressing down on you like a physical force.

“She didn’t deserve this,” Rafe said finally, his voice barely above a whisper.

You looked over at him, surprised by the rawness in his tone. His head was in his hands, and for the first time, he looked utterly broken.

“No,” you agreed softly. “She didn’t. Neither of them did.”

Rafe didn’t respond, and you didn’t push. Grief was a strange, solitary thing, and you knew better than to try to force him to share it.

But as you sat there in the quiet, Willa’s face flashed in your mind—those wide, innocent eyes that didn’t yet understand what she’d lost. And you realized that no matter how fractured things were between you and Rafe, you’d have to find a way to piece them together. For her.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

The morning of the funeral was gray and cold, the sky heavy with clouds that mirrored the weight in your chest. The Outer Banks, usually vibrant and alive, seemed subdued, as if the island itself were mourning.

You stood at the back of the small church, clutching Willa to your chest. She was dressed in a tiny black dress that Sarah had once bought “just in case,” her soft curls pinned back with a white bow. She didn’t understand what was happening, her chubby hands reaching for your necklace as if this were just another day.

But it wasn’t.

The pews were packed with people from all corners of the island—friends, family, neighbors, even people who barely knew Sarah and John B. Everyone had come to say goodbye.

At the front of the church, two caskets stood side by side, draped in simple white flowers. The sight of them made your stomach churn, a wave of nausea rolling over you as the reality hit again. They were gone.

Rafe sat in the front row, his shoulders hunched, his hands gripping the edges of the pew. He was flanked by Ward and Rose, both of whom looked perfectly composed, their grief hidden behind practiced masks. You couldn’t help but feel a pang of anger toward them—toward Ward, especially. How could he sit there so calm when Sarah, his daughter, was gone?

The service began with soft hymns, the sound of the organ filling the air. The pastor spoke of love, loss, and legacy, his voice steady but kind. He shared stories of Sarah’s infectious smile and John B.’s unyielding spirit, painting a picture of the lives they’d led and the love they’d left behind.

When it came time for eulogies, Rafe surprised you by standing. He adjusted his tie awkwardly, clearing his throat as he approached the podium.

For a moment, he just stood there, staring out at the crowd, his usual bravado nowhere to be found.

“Sarah wasn’t just my sister,” he began, his voice hoarse. “She was my anchor. She kept me grounded, even when I didn’t deserve it. She believed in me when I didn’t believe in myself.”

He paused, his eyes glistening. “And John B.? He was... he was family. He took care of Sarah, made her happy in a way I couldn’t. He was my brother, even if I never said it out loud.”

His voice cracked, and he gripped the edges of the podium tightly, trying to steady himself. “They didn’t deserve this. They had so much left to give. But... they left us Willa. And I’ll do everything I can to make sure she knows how amazing her parents were.”

Rafe stepped back, his head bowed, and you felt an unexpected lump rise in your throat. For all his flaws, his grief was real, and it was impossible not to feel the depth of his pain.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

After the service, the crowd filtered out to the cemetery, where Sarah and John B. would be laid to rest. The air was heavy with the sound of muffled sobs and the soft rustle of the breeze through the trees.

You stood a little apart from the others, bouncing Willa gently to keep her calm. Rafe was nearby, his hands shoved deep into his coat pockets, his expression unreadable.

As the caskets were lowered into the ground, you felt an ache so deep it seemed to hollow you out. Tears blurred your vision, but you didn’t wipe them away. Grief deserved space, and today, there was nothing to do but let it exist.

When the ceremony ended, Rafe approached you, his face pale and drawn. He hesitated for a moment before gesturing to Willa.

“Can I hold her?” he asked, his voice quiet.

You nodded, carefully passing her over. She went willingly, her small hands gripping the lapels of his coat. For a moment, Rafe just stared at her, his features softening in a way you hadn’t seen before.

“She looks like Sarah,” he murmured, almost to himself.

“She does,” you agreed, watching as Willa rested her head against his chest.

In that moment, standing beside the fresh graves of the people you both loved, it became clear that nothing about this would be easy. But as you looked at Rafe holding Willa, you realized that maybe—just maybe—there was hope. For her, you would find a way.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

A few hours after the funeral, the weight of the day still hung heavy in the air as you and Rafe sat in the conference room of the law office. The small table between you seemed to represent the chasm that had always existed between you two—now more evident than ever.

The lawyers—two of them now, both stern-faced and clearly used to handling the messier sides of life—sat across from you, speaking in professional tones about the formalities. Child services was represented by a no-nonsense woman in her mid-forties who seemed to take notes every time either of you shifted in your seat.

Willa, still in your arms, had drifted off to sleep, her tiny breath soft against your chest. She had no idea that her life was being turned upside down today.

“Everything seems to be in order,” one of the lawyers said, flipping through the paperwork in front of him. “Guardianship has been transferred to both of you as per the will, and now, we just need to finalize arrangements for Willa’s immediate care.”

Rafe, who had been largely silent up until this point, suddenly leaned forward. His sharp eyes met the lawyer’s, and his jaw tightened as he spoke.

“We’ll be taking Willa home with us today. Both of us,” he said firmly, his tone brokering no argument.

The child services worker, Ms. Anderson, looked up from her notepad, her brow furrowed. “Mr. Cameron, I understand the circumstances, but we would like to ensure that both of you are prepared for the responsibility of guardianship. Willa’s safety and well-being are paramount. It’s important to assess—”

“I’m prepared,” Rafe cut her off, his voice cold and final. “I’m not asking, I’m telling you. She stays with me.”

The room went quiet for a beat as Ms. Anderson studied him. You could see the flicker of concern in her eyes as she turned to you, silently asking for your input.

You hesitated. Part of you was reluctant to let Willa stay in that house, with Rafe—the person who had been nothing but trouble for years. But the other part of you knew that, for better or worse, you didn’t have many options. You were in this with him now, and if he was willing to take on that responsibility, you couldn’t exactly argue against it.

“She’ll stay with me, too,” you added softly, catching Rafe’s eye. “But I don’t think it’s a good idea to let her stay alone with you, not yet.”

Rafe’s jaw tightened again, but this time, there was a flicker of something else behind his eyes. A flicker of understanding. “Fine. We’ll take her. But we’re doing this together. It’s not just your decision, [Y/N].”

You didn’t argue with him. He was right. This wasn’t just your choice anymore. You shared the responsibility, whether you liked it or not.

Ms. Anderson nodded, taking notes. “We’ll have to conduct an assessment in the next few days, and I’ll be following up regularly. But for now, if both of you are in agreement, Willa can go with you.”

Rafe stood abruptly, crossing the room and grabbing the folder of documents from the lawyer’s desk. “Good. Let’s get this over with.”

As he turned to leave, the lawyer called after him. “Mr. Cameron, please ensure that you maintain contact with child services for further evaluations.”

Rafe gave a terse nod without looking back.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

The drive to the Cameron estate was a tense one, the silence thick with unspoken thoughts. You sat in the passenger seat, holding Willa close, her tiny body pressed against you as she slept. Rafe drove, his grip on the steering wheel tight as he focused on the road, the sound of the engine and the occasional rustle of Willa’s breath filling the quiet.

When you pulled up to the house, it felt like a different world. The sprawling estate loomed ahead, the grand, cold structure seeming to mock the chaos of the day. You could feel the heaviness of the house before you even stepped inside. It was too big, too empty. It had always been a symbol of something Rafe wanted, something that didn’t fit with the life you’d grown up with.

But now, it was where Willa was going to stay.

“Welcome home,” Rafe muttered as he parked the car and cut the engine.

You weren’t sure if he meant it sarcastically, or if there was something real underneath the bitterness.

He led the way up the stone steps, unlocking the front door with a swipe of his key. The house felt colder inside, and Willa shifted in your arms as the air conditioned chill wrapped around you. Rafe glanced over his shoulder.

“I’m not leaving her with you alone,” you said firmly, setting Willa down into the nearby high chair as you followed him further into the house. “You’re going to need help. You’re not capable of just doing this on your own.”

Rafe gave a sharp, humorless laugh. “Yeah, no kidding. I never said I was. But if she’s gonna be here, she’s staying in this house. So you’ll just have to suck it up.”

You weren’t sure how you were supposed to feel in this house with him—this house that was too much like a battlefield, and not enough like a home. But there was no escaping it now. You were stuck here together, as guardians. You took a deep breath and tried not to let the tension eat away at you.

For Willa.

"She’s still a baby," you murmured, brushing a stray curl from Willa’s face. "This isn’t about us. We need to figure it out for her."

Rafe didn’t respond, but he didn’t argue, either. He just stood there, watching you with that same unreadable look he always had. But for the first time, there was a sliver of uncertainty behind it.

And for the first time, you wondered if maybe—just maybe—there was a chance, however small, that you and Rafe might actually pull this off.

© 2024 rafeskai | All rights reserved. This fanfiction is a work of fiction inspired by characters from Outer Banks, and no part of it may be reproduced or distributed without permission.

[caitified]

imagine caitlin and reader are dating but reader becomes pregnant so caitlin has to hide it from the public and her teammates

hidden

caitlin clark x reader

warnings:ivf, pregnancy kind of added stuff to this hope that’s okay

you and caitlin met in college, back when she was just starting to make a name for herself on the court. you were drawn to her right away—not just her talent, which was undeniable, but the way she seemed to light up every room she walked into. back then, she was this whirlwind of energy and determination, a bit rough around the edges but with a heart so big you couldn’t help but fall for her. it started as friendship, with late-night study sessions, endless coffee runs, and cheering her on at every game, but before long, it turned into something much deeper.

over time, you two became inseparable, and when she asked you to marry her just before her first WNBA season, there wasn’t a doubt in your mind. the wedding was intimate, just close friends and family gathered to celebrate the love you’d built. you were overjoyed, and you could tell caitlin was too, her usual confident self was almost shy as she slipped the ring onto your finger. after years of building your lives together, finally calling her your wife felt surreal and perfect.

with caitlin’s career taking off, you both tried to keep things private, cherishing the little moments you could steal away from the public eye. being married to someone in the spotlight isn’t always easy, and you found yourself fielding questions, navigating rumors, and learning to protect the sacred parts of your life together. while everyone knew you as “caitlin clark’s wife,” you were determined to hold on to as much of your privacy as you could. you were her biggest supporter, always cheering her on from the stands, but beyond that, you stayed in the background, happy just to be by her side.

when you both started talking about starting a family, it was another big step. caitlin was ecstatic, talking nonstop about what it would be like to raise a little one together, already imagining teaching them to shoot hoops in the driveway. IVF wasn’t an easy road, and there were times when the journey tested both of you. caitlin would stay up late, holding your hand, whispering words of encouragement, even after long days of practice and games. when the news finally came—when the test turned positive—neither of you could believe it. you sat there in the quiet of your home, holding each other, realizing that your dream of a family was actually coming true.

you wanted to keep it private, though, at least for a little while. this was something special, something just for the two of you, away from the cameras and the questions. every time you went out, you found yourself slipping into baggier clothes, avoiding certain angles, anything to keep the world from guessing. caitlin would grin at your little attempts, her eyes full of affection, and you’d just laugh, knowing that for now, it was your secret.

a couple of months later, you and caitlin head back to iowa for a special occasion—she’s finally receiving her final four ring, a long-awaited moment to celebrate with her old teammates and friends. there’s this buzz in the air as you both step onto campus, flooded with memories of those early days together. gabbie, kate, and jada are all there, ready to relive the glory days. it feels like a homecoming, filled with laughter and nostalgia, and though you’re still a bit tired from the trip, you’re determined to keep the news to yourselves.

at the ceremony, she catches your eye in the crowd, flashing you a small, private smile that makes your heart flip, and in that moment, you’re both transported back to those early days. afterwards, you’re all gathered in a small cafe on campus, reminiscing over coffee, trying to soak in every minute with the people who’ve been there through it all.

but as the hours pass, hiding your pregnancy starts feeling harder. you find yourself resting a hand on your stomach absentmindedly, sitting down more often, and you’re sure gabbie has noticed you stifling a yawn more than once. eventually, she leans over, watching you with this knowing look.

“hey… are you okay?” she asks, voice soft with concern. “you seem a little… off?”

you feel caitlin tense beside you, her hand gently squeezing yours under the table. you flash gabbie a reassuring smile, brushing it off. “just tired from the travel, that’s all,” you say, hoping it’s convincing enough.

but then kate chimes in, eyes narrowing as she looks between you and caitlin. “wait a second… you two aren’t… hiding something, are you?”

you exchange a glance with caitlin, but before you can answer, jada lets out a gasp, her hand flying to her mouth. “oh my god, are you pregnant?”

caught off guard, you can’t help but laugh, feeling your cheeks flush. caitlin just sighs, a shy smile creeping onto her face as she squeezes your hand. “yeah… we’re expecting,” she admits, her voice filled with this quiet, uncontainable joy.

the room erupts in cheers, the girls pulling you both into hugs, congratulating you with an outpouring of love and excitement. it’s overwhelming, but in the best possible way, and as you stand there with caitlin by your side, you realize how lucky you are to have friends who are so genuinely happy for you.

“wow,” gabbie says, grinning. “i can’t wait to see the little basketball prodigy you two are going to raise.”

caitlin laughs, rolling her eyes, but there’s this soft, proud look in her gaze as she wraps her arm around you, pressing a kiss to your temple. “we’ll see,” she murmurs, giving you a warm smile. “for now, we’re just glad to have people in on the secret.”

thanks for reading!! she’s too cute with kids. requests are open.

[astrolovecosmos]

10th House and Leaving the Nest

The 10th House tells a story about how we are raised or conditioned to fit into our society, how we leave home and become part of the public sphere. While not all cultures encourage leaving the home at a young age, it still gives a glimpse into how one adjusts from private life to public.

Aries in the 10th House: May leave home early or become independent at a young age. Can embrace change and the new. Is eager to pave their own path in society/the world. Has a lot of hopes and expectations for themselves.

Taurus in the 10th House: May leave the nest slowly or cautiously. Likely will do so in a very practical manner. Won't feel truly independent or "grown up" unless they are financially independent. Makes their space truly their own.

Gemini in the 10th House: May leave the home "mentally" somehow before physically. May move across town or to a neighboring state/region. Could become detached from private life or family. May thrive in the public sphere.

Cancer in the 10th House: Could get homesick easily or often. Might try to find a spouse, found family, or community similar to where they come from. May live close to home or live at home for a long time. Can have a complicated attitude towards home and the public sphere.

Leo in the 10th House: Leaving the nest and navigating public life may come easily for them. Could enter adulthood or leave their home with confidence. Could struggle with the dullness or details of living on their own sometimes.

Virgo in the 10th House: Can leave home carefully or in a realistic way. Leaving for work or university is a direct and easy route for them. May strive to present a "perfect" outer life back to their family or private life. Might not want to leave the nest if things don't feel "perfect" or according to their plan.

Libra in the 10th House: May leave home to find their own peace, love story, or community. But may also be incredibly comfortable at home or with their family to where they struggle to leave or be on their own. May head home or become more of a homebody when things get disharmonious and rough out there. Independence is a gift and curse for them.

Scorpio in the 10th House: This placement will be drawn to wherever they can be vulnerable yet powerful. Sometimes this indicates a person who leaves home as soon as they can, or the opposite. Tends to highly engulf themselves in the public sphere or home life and may live in these two worlds extremely somehow.

Sagittarius in the 10th House: May move far away from where they come from. Long-distance travel or intensive schooling or training programs tend to pull them away from home. Can be incredibly independent, resourceful, and adaptable. Can be brave and risk-taking in the outer world.

Capricorn in the 10th House: May have left home early on. Could have been pressured to leave the home or their family somehow. Might also take care of family, whether they live with them or not as an adult. If highly separated from family it is likely due to work or their own ambitions.

Aquarius in the 10th House: Associated with being estranged from their family, childhood home, or private life. Highly independent at a young age. Can be eager to find or build their own family or community. May have left home as an act of rebellion and/or freedom.

Pisces in the 10th House: May delay leaving the home for a long time or has no need to. Potentially could "lose" family or childhood home somehow which forces them on their own. Fits in anywhere both in the public and private sphere.