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bvidzsoo · 5 days

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Cold Red Iron

Author: bvidzsoo

Pairing: Song Mingi x female reader

⎊ Warning: suggestive speech and content, cursing, violence, weapons, stabbing, blood, hostage situation, mentions of domestic violence (not against MC) ⎊ Word count: 27.6k ⎊ Rating: mature, nsfw ⎊ Genre: Iron Man!AU, humour, Marvel references, superheroes!au, workplace!au, they can't stand each other but end up working together!au ⎊ Summary: Each day you wake up wondering what you did in a previous life to deserve your prick of a boss, who is also a womanizer and owns a company that made him a millionaire. But the job pays well, and there's Mrs. Bae too, so you suck it up. But one unfortunate event at the metro station seems to change your life for the better (?).

A/N: I actually thought I could make this oneshot 15~18k, who's the clown here now? Hii, hello, welcome back my lovelies to a completely random and uncalled for Marvel oneshot that is humorous (I hope so) but also deals with serious topics. For the sake of the story, Mingi is aged up and is closer to his thirties and our MC is around 25-ish, though unspecified, and Mrs. Bae, who is Irene/Bae Joohyun, is aged up a lot lmao, so yes, Yunho is younger than everyone ~oops. I think this is all I wanted to say, sorry for mistakes 'cuz some always somehow slip through, and if I missed tagging any warning lmk. I appreciate your feedback lots, so let me know what you thought of this little story, and I hope you enjoy! Thank you for reading ^^ divider

🕸️(you can find my Spiderman!Yunho oneshot here)

S. Industries, the name of the tallest building in our city is owned by possibly one of the city’s most affluent men. From engineering and producing weapons that are shipped out to other countries with masses, to fabricating gadgets and small electronic devices that have Mr. Song’s artificial intelligent assistant implemented in them, to joining a collaboration with Mercedes-Benz to produce a prototype never heard of before, S. Industries seemed to do a little bit of everything. Engineers of the best calibre fought to get a spot in the team and those fired often found themselves lost and devastated by their predicament. Smart and important people worked here, people who had a vision and had set their minds on changing the world. Mr. Song, the embarrassingly rich owner of the enterprise, seemed to have flamboyant and insane ideas often, yet, they somehow always managed to work out in his favour. There was rarely a day where Mr. Song wasn’t on the news or TV, smirking and winking at the cameras as he flirted with the reporters into oblivion—these were the good scenarios because there were days when instead of appearing for his good deeds and world-changing innovations, he appeared in scandalous hypostasizes that had to be fixed by none other than me.

He was exactly the man you’d imagine a young and super-rich CEO would be like. He drank and partied as long as the night lasted, and when dusk came, he’d bring ladies into his bed to satisfy his insatiable needs. No woman lasted long by his side, perhaps because his personality was truly dislikeable or perhaps because he couldn’t keep it in his pants for too long. There had been multiple occasions when security had to escort his screaming exes out while Mr. Song hid away in his office with his tail between his legs and the excuse that he was too busy working, meanwhile, he was busy whining and nursing his hangover. But he also liked to act like he was the bigger and better person in the room, often with his eyebrows furrowed and with disgust on his features as he looked at you above his narrow glasses and judged whatever came out of your mouth. I couldn’t fully understand the women that surrounded me and their desperation to be noticed by the CEO. Despite his very obvious good looks, I always thought his bad personality ruined even the thought of finding him attractive in the true sense of the word—meaning inside out. Sure, for a one-night-stand, the man was probably a perfect partner, but even then, I wouldn’t have wanted to be another body count added to his long and never-ending list so that he can gloat about it to his buddies while they have a beer—or wine, whatever thing these fancy people drink on a night out if they even do those.

And Mr. Song was shameless, he very obviously did not care about the working environment and neither about the fact that there was a power imbalance each time he decided to sleep with one of his employees. I yet had to see the day when it didn’t end up with his temporary partner fired as Mr. Song claimed that he was uncomfortable by their overbearing presence, irritated by the constant attention he got from said employee—or victim, as I liked to call them. The longest an employee he hooked up with managed to continue staying at the firm was two weeks and that one ended on a pretty bad note—she now has a restricting order on her hands, Mr Song doesn’t play around despite his often easy-going façade. I wasn’t one to be quick to judge, but I was thoroughly bothered and disgusted by the lack of care Mr. Song seemingly had towards his female employees, the nonchalance with which he dismissed others never ceased to make my blood boil.

And if it wasn’t enough that he was a womanizer, he was also a jerk to his employees when he so happened to ‘not be in the mood’, which translated to him getting up on the wrong side of the bed and so he had the right to be pissy and offensive to everyone around himself, including his so very sweet secretary that I swore to protect with my whole being. Mrs. Bae was an elderly lady who was in excellent shape and an absolute professional in everything she did, she was so eager to teach me everything I needed to know about administrative work as when I had joined S. Industries, I was still fresh out of college with barely any experience. Mrs. Bae was also very loyal to Mr. Song, for some reason, and she was diligent in her work and spent way too much time at the office, fixing Mr. Song’s messes that shouldn’t have been committed in the first place. But if there was anyone in this goddamn office that had even a little bit of control over Mr. Song, then it sure as hell was Mrs. Bae as she’d often storm inside his office without knocking—disregarding the fact that her boss might be in the midst of unloading his stress, if you know what I mean—and she’d absolutely put him in his place, scrutinizing him as a disappointed mother would with her disobeying child.

But still, that was just Mrs Bae, others weren’t so lucky. If Mr. Song decided he didn’t like you, you were dead meat, nobody would want to associate themselves with you, and oftentimes those employees would resign on their own, aware that the entirety of S. Industries had just rejected them. And this wasn’t all, Mr. Song also spoke with little respect and consideration, eyes often narrowed and eyebrows furrowed as he scowled and interrupted your speech, embarrassing you in front of your colleagues and unjustly dismissing your hard work. He would also laugh if you made a mistake or if your idea was catalogued as not good enough, sending most of his employees into an existential crisis whenever he did this. It was sad, truly, having to watch my colleagues crumble day by day. I, thankfully, had rarely come in direct contact with Mr. Song as I was a mere secretary assistant, but because Mrs. Bae was basically his right hand, I shared the same floor with her and our boss. That, however, meant that despite usually being overlooked by Mr. Song, I got to watch all of his shenanigans unfold, unable to do or say anything.

Working here has definitely taught me patience and Mrs. Bae advised me to just try and ignore Mr. Song unless I had to work with him directly, apparently, there was nothing he hated more than being ignored. He acted like a damn child that was desperate for attention and not like a man with a very serious burden on his hands, with one of the strongest industries in his hands, able to control the outcome of wars even if he so wished. I had yet to see the day Mr. Song acted like a decent human being, compassionate and understanding, kind and less of a prick.

So, knowing all that, you must understand my honest reaction to finding out that Mrs. Bae had fallen so ill that she had to be hospitalized, scaring half of the company to death when she sent us an e-mail. Of course, in true fashion to her, it was worded professionally and she asked us not to worry but to work even harder in her absence, and then she assigned all her subordinates what their respective assignments would be in her absence. When I had reached my name on the list and read that I was to replace her since I knew everything about management and Mr. Song’s schedule, I was pretty much devastated. There was no definite time of when Mrs. Bae would return and that meant that I could be working as her replacement for a day, maybe a week, or even three years. I knew I would barely last one day by Mr. Song’s side, let alone three years. And, because this devastating news called for a cold jug of beer to drown my sorrows in, my poor best friend had been the one to suffer through a drunken night of me going off about my boss, calling him names and describing atrocious ways of how I would bring his demise forth if it were only legal.

But Sooyoung was a good friend, she’s been with me since fifth grade, and she sat through the night and giggled whenever I hiccupped or started speaking too loudly, to the point I had people turning our way as I cursed Mr. Song’s name. She was an angel and a sweetheart as she carried my heavy body home that night, giggling and snapping pictures when I told her I felt like throwing up and that I needed a breather. She called her boyfriend when she realized I wasn’t able to walk anymore, my high heels long abandoned and in my hands as the freezing ground was none of my concerns at that moment as my eyes bore into a billboard that had Mr. Song’s sharp face and sexy smirk displayed.

“You’re the devil!” I was sure my voice was loud enough to wake the whole neighbourhood as I stumbled to my feet, pointing a finger at the billboard as Sooyoung spoke on the phone, “I’m going to get you, Song Mingi!”

I huffed and glared at the man’s small and narrowed eyes, shivering when a cold breeze blew past us, “Don’t smirk at me, fucker.”

There was a loud giggle behind me and then the slam of a door and I heard my best friend pocket her phone as two sets of footsteps neared me, “You see that monstrosity? He picks his nose when he thinks nobody is watching, the fucker forgets to turn on the blurring effect to his windows, and I get to see him lazing around his office the whole day, meanwhile, I have to delete articles and call up journalists and beg them not to publish their next issue about how Song Mingi fucked four women and gave them chlamydia or whatever.”

I was sure my words came out jumbled and less clear than they sounded in my head, and I flinched when high-pitched laughter made my ears ring, way higher than Sooyoung’s had ever been. With my head spinning and bile rising in my throat, I swung around and narrowed my eyes at my best friend’s boyfriend. He laughed a lot, loudly mostly, and if I found it cute sober, I absolutely loathed it while drunk, “Shut up, fucker!”

“Or you’ll beat me up like you’ll beat up our boss?” He teased with a mischievous glint in his eyes and I snorted, pulling my shoulders back as I banged on my chest.

“I sure will!” I called loudly and the guy just started giggling again, meanwhile, Sooyoung just shook her head with an amused expression on her face.

“Let’s get her inside the car, Wooyoung, I don’t want her to catch a cold.”

“Why is she even so drunk?”

“Mrs. Bae is really sick and Y/N is to replace her.”

“Oh, so she’ll be finally working with Mr. Song directly?”

“Exactly.”

I groaned and bared my teeth at nothing in particular as Wooyoung and Sooyoung came up on both sides of me to hold me up and walk me towards Wooyoung’s running car, that fucker, he was an engineer at S. Industries and he was rich enough to afford himself a really nice car. A Mercedes-Benz, to be exact, thanks to the collaboration the two companies had going on. For once, I hoped Mr. Song’s project went terribly and I’d have to answer the calls with a smile on my face and then feign mock disappointment when I’d relay the message to Mr. Song. Surely the failure of one project wouldn’t bring the downfall of S. Industries.

“Well, Y/N, at least there’ll be a raise in the paycheck this month.” A particularly hard slap to my back had the bile in my throat rising until it wasn’t inside my mouth anymore at all, but on the sidewalk instead, as Wooyoung shrieked and Sooyoung just sighed, holding my hair back for me as I doubled over and violently emptied the contents of my stomach.

That whole ordeal was three days ago, on a Friday evening, when Mrs. Bae delivered the devastating news. Now, it was Monday and my muscles were tense and my teeth were gritting as I exited the metro and took the escalator, feet already aching from the blisters my other heels left on them. I seriously wanted to die, but Wooyoung was right for once in his life, I would at least get a raise for filling in for Mrs. Bae, but at what cost? The only joy I could find in the horrible day I had ahead of me was my iced caramel macchiato in my hands and the fact that the metro was right next to the building I used to love working at up until three days ago. Higher paycheck or not, I found myself wondering whether it was worth it if I had to work directly with Mr. Song.

I plastered on a smile despite my sour mood as I entered the intimidatingly tall building and greeted the receptionists, who apparently knew of my predicament as they sported matching looks of pity. If there were other women who didn’t fall for Mr. Song’s charming persona, excluding Mrs. Bae who was too old to entertain such a young boy and was busy scolding him whenever she could, then in the receptionists I knew I could trust. One of them had a bad run-in with Mr. Song and ever since the two stayed far away from him, sharing my displeasure whenever I came down to have lunch with them. They were sisters and foreigners, yet their knowledge of the language oftentimes surpassed mine, never failing to take me off guard as I watched them with a grin on my lips. They were both in college and apparently, a really pricey one if they resorted to working at S. Industries.

I scanned my badge at the entrance gate and nodded at the security guard, Chanyeol, who looked more like a club bouncer than a security guard at a high-tech company, closely surveyed and littered with cameras in every nook and cranny. The elevator ride up to the top floor was rather lacklustre and filled with silence beside the generic music coming through the speakers, and I basked in the ignorance the engineers exerted towards me, nothing out of the ordinary. But when they got off on their floor, I found myself fidgeting as I still had ten more floors up, turning around to check myself out in the huge mirror. It wasn’t even my first day here, yet I felt jittery and questioned my choice of clothing despite it being what I usually wore. A black pencil skirt that stuck to my frame uncomfortably paired with a white off-shoulder blouse that was tucked inside, a dainty belt bringing the look together nicely. My black high-heels weren’t as uncomfortable as the ones I had worn on Friday—they were still new—and I couldn’t wait to sit down and step out of them. I have pulled my hair in a bun and strategically pulled out front pieces that I curled, framing my face if I didn’t want to look like an egg due to the oval shape of my face. My makeup was soft and natural looking except for the red lipstick, and I found myself playing with the small cross pendant around my neck, waiting for the elevator doors to open as I reached the top floor.

The hall, my little office, Mr. Song’s huge office, and the small kitchen were all dark, signalling that I was the first one to arrive at work. Of course, that was no surprise as there were days when Mr. Song would come in just a few hours before it was time to go home for his employees, and then he’d usually find something faulty with everything, thus forcing everyone to stay after hours. I hoped today wasn’t a day like that because I was sure I’d end up fired by the evening, something I couldn’t afford as I had just moved to my new apartment and the rent was rather high, but the area was good and it was a lot closer to my job, so I couldn’t complain. I switched on the lights as I walked towards Mrs. Bae’s desk, now mine until she returned, and I hung my coat on the hanger, placing my purse on the floor just next to it. I powered on the desk computer and headed for the kitchen to prepare coffee for Mr. Song. I had decided to take this burden off Mrs. Bae’s shoulders back when I had joined the company, so I knew his preference by heart, unfortunately.

I watched the coffee machine with unfocused eyes as I ran through in my mind the schedule I had closely studied yesterday. Mr. Song had a meeting before lunch with the engineers about the prototype they were developing, which could take quite a few hours if he was in a pissy mood, and after lunch he had another meeting with the company they were collaborating with, and since that was out of our hands I couldn’t estimate the length of the meeting. Before his first meeting, however, I had to print the monthly expenses and bring them to him, and sometime along the day—preferably before lunch, was what Mrs. Bae’s note had said—I had to fix a date and time with a local magazine for an editorial shoot they had been discussing with my boss for months now. The thought made me roll my eyes and I switched the coffee machine off, grabbing the oat milk out of the fridge and brown sugar from the cupboard. The coffee was just a little above half of the cup and I filled it up with the milk, putting in five teaspoonfuls of sugar. I wondered whether Mr. Song would realize I had mixed up his milk on purpose while making his coffee—since he’s lactose intolerant—if I ever got the courage to sabotage my boss even if it was silly. But today wasn’t that day and I grabbed a tray and placed five cookies on a small plate before I placed both his coffee and the cookies on the tray. I would take them to his office and then print whatever he needed. If maybe I sneaked inside his office before he came in, then maybe I didn’t have to face him often as Mrs. Bae would communicate with him through the phone despite them being just a few steps away from each other, I intended on doing that too.

But my steps halted as I returned to the lobby, eyebrows furrowing as the glass to Mr. Song’s office was blurred and light poured outside from underneath the closed door. Oh, had he come in early? My eyebrows furrowed as I wondered whether I was hallucinating, had I been so lost in thought I didn’t hear the elevator, his footsteps, and the closing of the door? I could space out annoyingly well, so maybe that really was the case. I sighed and walked towards my desk, needing a second to gather my courage and steel my nerves as my eyes fell on the unlocked computer. So, Mr. Song not only came in earlier but he also unlocked Mrs. Bae’s computer before heading inside his office. That was rather confusing, and just when I had started wondering whether someone had broken in on our floor, I heard his unmistakable raspy and deep voice coming through the glass that separated us. I couldn’t make out what he was saying, but it was Song Mingi, no doubt. Glancing at the door and then down at the computer, I decided that I didn’t want to enter his office twice today if it really wasn’t necessary so, I quickly printed the monthly expenses and bound them together after placing them in order. The numbers were so high that I struggled to read them correctly, but it wasn’t surprising, the company was huge and what they expertise in was even bigger.

I grabbed the papers and the tray into my hands, mindful of my steps as I headed for Mr. Song’s office door, taking a deep breath as I paused in front of it. He was still talking, probably on the phone, and I decided it was best I slipped in and out while he was distracted, so I knocked and went inside without waiting for his answer.

“Yes, I know.” His voice was harsh and tinged with annoyance as I veered my way around his office like an expert, having been inside too often. Who do you think cleaned up his mess and dusted off his shelves? Exactly, me because I couldn’t handle watching Mrs. Bae ruin her already aching back and knees, “Honestly? I don’t fucking care. I told you I couldn’t design it and produce it in a month, so is it really my fault that your superiors are blaming you now?”

I was curious what this was about, but I knew my place and not to snoop around, so I just headed for his desk hopeful that Mr. Song wouldn’t notice me as his chair was swivelled around to face the huge windows overlooking the bustling morning city, mist having settled in the distance where it was closer to the mountains. The view was beautiful from here and I often found myself gazing out the windows when I had to be inside Mr. Song’s office, wondering if I’d ever earn enough to live in a penthouse, it was wishful thinking but at least it made me more determined to work harder.

“Then deal with it.” Mr. Song snapped as I placed the tray on the desk, in its usual spot, and my eyes fell on the back of his head as he scoffed loudly, his fingers drumming against the armrest of the leather chair he sat in. He was so tall that even his massive chair couldn’t hide his form and my eyes stuck to his broad shoulders outlined by the shoulder pads of his black jacket before I snapped out of it and moved as quietly as possible to place the documents I had printed in the middle of the desk, “I’m not taking the blame for your incompetence, idiot, call me when you have a real reason to speak with me.”

Just as I had straightened up and took a step back, Mr. Song hung up and groaned as he threw his head back, eyes screwed shut as he groaned, “What a fucking idiot, he can’t even design his own gadget and then I’m at fault for prioritising real projects.”

Well, I was sure I wasn’t meant to hear his whining and inner monologue said out loud, so I took a tentative step backwards, praying he’d remain with his eyes closed and with his back turned so that I could slip out of his office before he’d even realize I was in there. For a man who regarded himself so highly, he lacked the skill of being aware of his surroundings at all times, something I didn’t mind for once. But my hopes were soon crushed as I stepped on something that made noise, eyes widening as I froze, watching as Mr. Song’s eyebrows furrowed for a second, “Ah, Joohyun, morning. Can you please call up—”

Of course, he’d call Mrs. Bae by her name without any regard to her age and accomplishments, I wasn’t even surprised he failed to respect the only person who remained stuck to his side in this company, vouching for him when nobody else did as few people liked the CEO. But his eyes opened and his words stuck in his throat as we made contact, albeit a little silly as his head had fallen off the headrest and he was looking at me cross-eyed. The speed with which he swivelled the chair around and fixed his posture should have been comical, but I knew what was coming and so I didn’t enjoy it. The slight worry and annoyance were gone from his face in the blink of an eye, replaced with a chilling arrogance and a self-assured smirk as his eyes very shamelessly ran all over my body, checking me out. I clenched my jaw and fixed my posture as well, plastering on the corporate smile that I wished conveyed the message of ‘fuck yourself, Song Mingi’, but it apparently didn’t as he intertwined his fingers and placed his elbows on the table to lean forward, tongue poking out to lick his lips.

“My, my, if only Joohyun looked anything like you, I’d come in early every morning.” His smirk only spread wider, eyes shining with a newfound resolve as he waited eagerly for a reaction, for anything. But it didn’t come as I remained impassive, eyes boring into his with nonchalance and coldness as I burned away on the inside, screaming and cursing at him in my mind. How dare he disrespect the lovely Mrs. Bae and disregard all her sacrifices made for his ungrateful ass just because I was young and relatively alright looking?!

“Mrs. Bae is sick and until she returns I will be replacing her, but I suppose you’ve been informed of the changes, sir.” I tried to keep my voice levelled so that I wouldn’t snap at him, but it was a little hard as he bit his bottom lip when I addressed him as ‘sir’. I didn’t want to think about it for even a second and I suppressed a sigh as he leaned back in his chair, legs spreading wide as he let his eyes run over my body again. Fucker, I hope he swallows his coffee wrong, maybe I should prepare his coffee with regular milk from now on, “The monthly expenses and payments that still have to be made are on the desk, sir, I have printed them as Mrs. Bae does.”

He glanced at the bound paperwork for a second before his lips pursed, eyes falling back on me. There was a slight change to his features, the quick glimmer of curiosity as he regarded me with inquiring eyes, but it was gone again as he rubbed his plump bottom lip with his forefinger, his hands littered with rings that were huge and somehow looked classy on him instead of making him look like a wannabe punk. For a CEO, he certainly wasn’t afraid to dress however he wanted while still being mindful that he was at his workplace. Sometimes he wore suits that highlighted his body and muscles in the right way, turning heads and having me throw him a second glance as he waltzed inside his office, and sometimes he wore outfits that you only saw on the runway, like today. His attire was all-black, non-conferring to society’s gender norms and unique in its way. He wore a blouse that seemed to fall a little lower on one shoulder, tucked inside pants that reached the floor with a skirt over them that reached just below his knees, his jacket cropped and with shoulder padding. The silver chains around his neck only added to the outfit and I couldn’t deny that he was quite the sight to look at with his black hair pushed back, and his undercut fresh. It made him look sharper, it defined his high cheekbones, and with his hair pushed back like that his eyes only became sharper and more intimidating.

“Trying to leave an impression on me already, huh?” His chuckle was mocking and laced with an undertone that almost had me marching up to him and punching the shit out of him, “It’ll take a few months before I can say whether you’re qualified for this job, sugar, newbies are great but they always fuck up, no offence.”

“None taken,” I grinned, trying to contain my rage and pride to lengthen my stay at the company, “I’ve been working here for four years, Mr. Song.”

He blinked once, then gulped, and then his eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he took me in again, but finally not with lustful eyes but plain confusion as he probably tried to recall a time he’d seen me before. Instead of being offended that my own boss, the man I shared a floor with and crossed paths with in the hallway more than once, didn’t recognize me, I felt accomplished that I managed to dodge him for a complete four years. We’ve ridden the elevator together not once, but I huddled in the corner and always waited for him to get off first in order to stay out of his sight, I just couldn’t stand the man and it was obvious to anyone with a pair of eyes.

“Ah, perhaps if I hear your name…” He trailed off and then eyed his coffee, eyebrows twitching as his eyes lingered on them, hand reaching for a cookie reluctantly.

“Five teaspoonfuls of sugar and a quarter of oat milk, just the way you like it.” It actually felt freaking awesome seeing the confused and slightly taken aback expression on Mr. Song’s face, who knew I’d enjoy being in his presence for once, “And I’m Miss Jang.”

“Jang…?” He asked quickly but I just remained smiling, not about to tell him my name. He could look it up very easily with a search in the database, either way, if he was curious enough.

“I’m the secretary assistant, so don’t worry, I know everything I need to know.” I ignored his question and took a step towards the door, signalling that I was out of his office in the next five seconds, “Let’s both pray Mrs. Bae returns fast, I quite enjoy shadowing her.” Instead of having to face you, but I didn’t add that to my short speech.

Mr. Song’s eyes narrowed as he took in my retreating form and for a split second, I noticed annoyance on his features, making me feel victorious in a way I never imagined I could, “Yeah, yeah, whatever. She’s too stubborn to remain sick for long, she’ll be back soon, but until then I expect nothing but excellence from you, I would hate to fire you if you’ve been working for me for four years. Anyways, when’s my first meeting?”

“At eleven, sir.” I checked the time, two more hours until then.

“Good, call Miss Kim and tell her I have something to discuss with her.” He paused to grab his cup of coffee and I refrained from rolling my eyes at his theatrics, “Tell her to come as fast as possible and that we’ll talk in my office.”

Or fuck, is what he meant but didn’t say. I hummed in order to swallow the scoff that threatened to leave my lips and bowed my head just slightly, in the way I knew it was enough to be respectful but still not that much. But Mr. Song wasn’t looking at me anymore so he wouldn’t see, he was too busy flipping through the paperwork as he sipped his coffee. I gripped the handle of the door but paused in the doorway, eyes falling on the unwrapped and empty package of a condom I had stepped on just minutes ago, “I’m not cleaning that up too, pick it you yourself, Mr. Song.”

And when his head snapped up with a scowl, eyes following the direction I was pointing at, he scoffed loudly and gave me a sharp glare. I smiled in a way that I knew couldn’t outwardly be catalogued as a ‘fuck you’ smile, but it also made sure to convey that I wasn’t dumb nor his rag that he could throw around and find amusement in. Then, without waiting to be dismissed, I slipped through the door and walked towards my desk, a smirk making its way on my lips as I graciously sat in Mrs. Bae’s chair, swivelling closer to the desk as I went to raise my hand and flip my boss off, but suddenly, the blur from the windows was gone and I went rigid, hand already midway raised. Mingi’s arm was outstretched as he held the controller, eyes glaring and fixed on me as I scoffed and returned his fierce glare, picking up the central telephone to dial Miss Kim and ask her to come to Mr. Song’s office.

I guess today would be exhausting in all the different ways I didn’t think possible before.

And I was right, it was exhausting in a way that had both my blood boiling and making me feel resigned as I was finally able to shut the computer off, the sun about to set any minute now. I had to stay for longer than expected as Mrs. Bae had a lot of workload, and without having an assistant to help out, I had to do it all on my own. I couldn’t complain about that as long as Mrs. Bae was healthy and up on her feet in the following ways, I would fill in for her and work even nights because I respected her and loved her a lot. She was a motherly figure and a good guide for both office-related and life-related things. I couldn’t wait to see her and hear her voice, already missing her dad jokes and shrill laughter. But perhaps what I missed the most was that she was the only one who could put Mr. Song in his place, something he desperately needed.

The blurry effect stayed off the windows the whole day and I felt Mr. Song’s sharp eyes on me more often than not, it was slowly driving me up the wall. I knew what he was playing at, he didn’t like my attitude towards him and he was trying to find reasons to get rid of me. But he couldn’t because I was trained by Mrs. Bae and I was damn good at my job, there was a reason why I survived four years at the company without working as an engineer or down at the lobby—Mr. Song rarely meddled with the lobby girls, and perhaps that was the only smart thing he was capable of doing. But now I had him on my back the whole day, making me uncomfortable as I sat in Mrs. Bae’s chair rigidly and with an aching back by how strained it was, fingers spasming from how much I had been typing away on the keyboard, and a crazy itch to finally go home. At least he wasn’t a complete ass and told me to get lunch while he was in the meeting, even handing me his card which I, obviously, declined. He had a peculiar look in his eyes that I couldn’t decipher, and then Wooyoung was up on our floor to fetch Mr. Song with a shit-eating grin on his lips.

“Ah, my favourite person in the whole wide world!” He had called loudly while Mr. Song was inside his office, door open, gathering paperwork, files, and the jacket he had discarded hours ago. My eyes narrowed at Wooyoung as I paused writing the email for the editorial photoshoot and leaned forward, raising my chin.

“Aren’t you supposed to be annoying your engineer friends?” I raised an eyebrow as Wooyoung’s grin only grew in size, “You seem to be lost, this isn’t your floor, Dr Jung.”

Wooyoung gave me a deadpanned look at the title I used as he leaned forward, resting his arms against the top part of the desk, “Don’t call me doctor at our workplace, dummy.”

“Don’t call me a dummy at our workplace.” I mocked Wooyoung and he glared at me before he stole a gummy bear out of the bowl placed there for our clients.

“Well, I see you’re doing just fine,” Wooyoung spoke while chewing, eyes running over the place, “The secretary role suits you; I should snap a picture for Sooyoung to see.”

“Don’t you dare.” I snapped and stood up to snatch the bowl of gummies when Wooyoung went to grab another one, “It’s for the clients, Wooyoung, and stop bothering Sooyoung while she’s at work. Besides, I already sent her a picture.”

“Of course you did.” He rolled his eyes and pouted as he swiftly leaned over the desk and managed to snatch a gummy still, making me gasp as my eyes widened, giving him a nasty look, “How’s working with your worst nightmare? Have you flipped him off already? Or have you cursed his name out in the bathroom? I bet you switched up his milk for a regular one like, you said you’d do—”

“Wooyoung, it’s nice seeing you on time for once.” Mr. Song’s sharp voice interrupted us, and I gave Wooyoung a warning look before I smoothed my skirt out and placed the bowl of gummies back in its place, “Although the blazer and your pants don’t match—”

“They do!” Wooyoung cut our boss off with a whine as Mr. Song came closer, “My fashion sense is better than yours.”

“You wish,” I muttered under my breath as I settled in the chair, thinking that it was quiet enough, but both men looked at me at the same time, making my eyes widen for a fraction of a second. Mr. Song’s impassive façade broke as he gave me a smirk, plump lips pursing as he let his eyes drop to my collarbones and explore my exposed shoulders due to my blouse. I fought back an eye roll and just sighed as I looked back at Wooyoung, “Tell Sooyoung when you see her that I might get off late, we’ll postpone our dinner for another day.”

“Yes!” Wooyoung fist bumped the air in glee and I fixed my glare on the side of his head as he eagerly took the files our boss was holding, “After Friday, I wouldn’t have survived another drunken dinner so soon. Imagine my poor ears having to listen to you whine about our—”

“Goodbye, Wooyoung.” I interrupted him with urgency, aware of the panic that coated my features as he snickered like the evil bastard he was, eyeing Song Mingi from the corner of his eyes as the man looked between us with curiosity written over his features. But then it was gone just as Wooyoung opened his mouth, Mr. Song was giving me a sharp look.

“Call Miss Kim and tell her there’s been a change to our plans, I’m busy tonight.” I wanted to tell him that I wasn’t his messenger, but as his secretary, I pretty much was. I nodded and pulled my chair closer to the desk, getting ready to finish the email when Mr. Song continued, “And get back to work.”

I bit my tongue to refrain from wishing him a lovely descent into hell, and I knew I wasn’t able to hide my irritated face well enough because Wooyoung snickered as Mr. Song took off towards the elevator, my best friend’s boyfriend lingering just behind him. He gave me a wink before he was right behind our boss, and I sighed as I got back to typing, catching the beginning of their conversation about some issues they’d run into while designing the new prototype. But other than that quick interaction, Mr. Song ignored me for the rest of the day minus the fact that he was spying on me from his office whenever he could, eyes boring into the side of my head and making me type just a little harsher than necessary.

But Mr. Song said something about being busy and not wanting to be bothered anymore half an hour ago, and after he closed and locked his door, the glass became all blurry and I understood the message: I was dismissed, I could finally head home—and head home I did, more eager than ever before. The metro was busy as most people were, similar to me, headed home and crowding the place. I stayed a decent distance away from the tracks and typed away on my phone as there was a commotion not too far from me. I didn’t react to it, used to the loudness and sometimes crazy people that came down to ride the metro. However, my dismissal quickly turned into alarm when there was a loud shout and a pained cry followed right after it and people ran left and right, knocking into me and almost sending me to the dirty ground. I stumbled and tightened my grip on my phone, not understanding the sudden hysteria until it was too late.

The crowd had cleared up enough so that the scene was visible to me, and I gasped as a woman lay on the ground, clutching her side as blood pooled underneath her. Despite living in a big city where crime was inevitable, I had never come across a scene like this and I felt frozen, terrified, and all of a sudden too dumb to do anything. People were screaming around us, mostly male voices demanding something, but my eyes remained fixated on the crying woman as her hands trembled and sobs echoed despite the loud commotion. Someone next to me was calling the ambulance and cops, at least five men surrounded the wounded woman and screamed at someone that I still couldn’t see, and just when somebody shoved me and told me to get away, I snapped out of it, but it was too late. A calloused hand was wrapped around my throat as cold metal pressed against my throat, already wet and dripping red with blood from the aggressor’s previous attack.

“Don’t make me do it!” The man screamed at the top of his lungs as I was rendered frozen, heart beating out of my chest and breath stilled in my throat, “Don’t make me kill her too!”

I went even more rigid, if possible, body shaking from fear as I remained silent, eyes darting around the place and silently crying out for help with my eyes, “Listen, we can settle this, no need to harm her too.”

“You’ll immobilise me if I let her go,” The man’s voice that held me captive thundered over my head and I tried to gulp but was afraid the movement would make the blade cut into my skin, “I’m not going to jail. She had it coming, she was a cheating bitch!”

“Alright, we get it, man!” A man that was crouched next to the wailing woman snapped, eyes burning with passion as he turned to face us, “You got what you wanted, the woman you’re holding right now is innocent, let her go.”

“Don’t tell me what to do!” At the shout and jerk of my captor’s body, I whimpered and grabbed onto his sleeve as I felt the cold blade press much harder into my skin, making my lips tremble as I fought back tears. I tried to pull the man’s arm away, desperately so, but he was relatively stronger, “Stop moving around, bitch, if you don’t want to die!”

I was breathing hard by now, trying to keep it together, but I was failing as my vision became blurred by tears that I tried to hold in. I could hear sirens in the distance and the people around the woman fussed about as they tried to stop her bleeding, but it didn’t seem to help. I wished someone would snatch me away from the psycho holding me and save me, but I knew the bleeding woman needed the help more than I did—unless I was injured too, who knew, maybe I’d never get to see tomorrow. The thought was frightening and I gulped down another whimper as the man's fingers dug into my shoulder as he kept me pressed against himself, he was breathing even harder than I was, his chest moving up and down quickly against my back.

“Listen, the woman you’re holding right now did nothing to you.” Another person tried to reason, a soft-spoken boy who was crouched right in front of the injured woman, hands bloody and eyes hardened, “She’s a complete stranger to you, she doesn’t even know who you are. If you want another person’s blood on your hands and a lifetime sentence, then by all means, go ahead and kill her too.”

I went to protest with a whine, but I felt the man’s grip loosen after a few seconds as he cursed under his breath. I was shaking, still clutching my purse in both of my hands as I had dropped the one holding onto the man’s arm out of fear of agitating him even more. Gasps could be heard above us, where the entrance of the metro was, and suddenly a peculiar sound filled the space. It sounded mechanical but not quite, hard and scraping like metal, and it was loud. The sirens were even louder now and I knew help was close by, I could only hope it came before I suffered any serious injuries. My heart was thumping so fast I was sure the artery in my neck was pulsating too, just the more inviting to be slashed or stabbed. The thought made me shudder and just as I was about to open my mouth and plead for my life too, something red and robot-like descended only a few feet away from us. Everyone gasped and murmured, my own eyes widened as I stared at the robot-like red machine, all armour and menacing looking from up close.

I had only seen Iron Man on TV, and suddenly, everything I had heard about the anonymous superhero seemed to be true. The person behind the iron armour was tall with wide shoulders and narrow hips as the costume moulded onto his body perfectly, and the person’s face was concealed by a mask that never came off, teasing the public of who could bear it. Despite knowing that the person behind the mask had no mal-intention and was here to rather save me, I couldn’t help but watch it with doubtful eyes, intimidated by the loomingly tall body and firm structure of the costume. There was a collective moment of pure silence, everyone holding their breaths as they waited for Iron Man to do something. The man holding me cursed loudly this time and I gasped as my eyes widened, his knife digging into my skin so that it scrapped my skin. I bit my bottom lip and tried to refrain from crying despite every particle of my body crying out in desperation to be freed and finally saved.

“Well, what do we have here, huh?” The superhero’s voice sounded somewhat robotic, but it wasn’t hard to make out that the person’s voice was grave, deep, and rather sharp as he spoke, “Terrorizing innocent women at the metro, is that a new hobby of yours? Did your mother not love you enough or what?”

“Shut up!” The man screamed and made me flinch as it made my ears ring, and suddenly I doubted that Iron Man was here to save the day. Why in hell would he be antagonizing an armed man holding a hostage?! I hoped the superhero could see my glare as I blinked my tears away, suddenly my terror blending together with anger due to nobody doing anything to help me, “What the fuck do you know about love, you iron fucker?!”

The armoured man chuckled and it was raspy almost, “I don’t fuck iron, but my costume is made of iron, hence the name—”

“Cut the attitude!” The man hissed and I gulped, fidgeting around and reaching inside my purse to see whether I had anything on me to use as a weapon to free myself since nobody was doing anything real to help me, “I’ll kill this bitch!”

“Don’t call her a bitch, you lowlife.” Iron Man snapped with irritation and I paused, eyes boring into the mask where its eyes were. At least Iron Man seemed to be a decent man when he wasn’t mocking and teasing the criminal, “Now, I’ll tell you how this goes—”

“Just shut the fuck up—”

“If you interrupt me one more time, I’ll blast off your face, dude.” The patience of Iron Man seemed to have snapped all at once as he raised his arm, something blue glowing in the middle of the iron palm. It didn’t look friendly nor like it wouldn’t hurt as it twisted and turned, accumulating more and more energy, “Like I was saying, this can go two ways. You release her and I take you to the officers without unnecessary injuries or you keep being foolish and I’m forced to take you down to free her, which are you choosing?”

“Fuck yourself!” The man turned his head and spat on the ground, making my face scrunch up in disgust as my body continued to tremble, wondering how Iron Man could hurt my captor without hurting me in the process as well. Certainly, whatever thing he meant to blast at the man wasn’t smart enough to go around me or dodge me, no matter how I tried looking at the situation, neither looked like I would get out of this unscathed. But if my hope in the superhero faded, it returned when the cops and paramedics finally showed up, spilling down the stairs, the cops pointing their guns at me and the man as the medics ran to the injured woman to help her and take her away to the nearest hospital. I gulped, counting the seven officers as they closed in on us, stopping just behind Iron Man as they assessed the situation.

“Sir.” The captain addressed Iron Man and the superhero ignored him besides the small nod of his head, “We’ll handle it from here.”

“How?” Iron Man chuckled, apparently amused meanwhile I was seriously on the verge of bursting out in tears. I’ve never had so many weapons pointed at me and I didn’t know how to react other than prepare for the pain the bullets would probably leave, “By harming her too?”

The captain said nothing as he sent the superhero a sharp stare, then faced me with a reassuring smile on his face, “Do not worry, ma’am, we’ll get you just in a second.”

“Cut the crap.” I hissed, surprising everyone—even my captor—as my body shook and my voice was laced with fear and annoyance. I wasn’t a child they could fool that everyone would be alright, I was conscious that they’d have to hurt me in order to take down the man holding me, “Just do your job.”

The paramedics rushed the woman above ground, probably to an ambulance, and I wished for nothing more than to be free and sitting in an ambulance where they’d check for my injuries, hopefully not too many.

“Sir, you’ll have to drop the knife if you don’t want to—”

“Mr. S!” A boyish and excited voice called out from behind us and I sighed, mind too tired to keep up with everything that was happening. Just who was this new person and why was nobody doing anything to help me?! But almost as if the newcomer was a mind reader, he called out again, “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it!”

And then everything happened at once, there was web on the man’s wrist that held the knife to my throat, and then it was yanked away, finally letting me breathe without the fear of cutting myself accidentally, and I was shoved really hard. I stumbled as my legs had gone numb, and I was sure I would crash to the ground with a loud and painful thud, but it never happened. What I did crash into was cold and hard, but it wasn’t anything like the ground. It was sturdy under my grip as I gasped and gripped onto the iron shoulders of the man, and suddenly, I craved a warm body and some fabric my fingers could dig into for comfort. My chest rose and fell so quickly I became lightheaded as I clung to the superhero with desperation, legs going jelly as he had to hold me up, “It’s fine, you’re fine. You’re safe, Miss Jang, I’ve got you.”

A sob left my throat but no tears fell from my eyes as the police officers were shouting around us, only making my panic rise as I forced my eyes shut, telling myself that if I couldn’t see then it wasn’t real. Iron Man tsked and grumbled something intangible before I felt a metallic arm underneath my knees, the other holding me up by my torso, and then I was lifted into the air bridal style and taken away from the scene of the policemen arresting my captor. I tried to reassure myself that everything was fine and that I was safe, but the lack of warm skin and a face I could associate with my saviour only made me more jittery and uncomfortable. Iron Man seemed to realize this as my muscles were tense to the point they were aching, and so, he sat me down on the stairs and tucked me away from the eyes of the world as everyone rushed around us. He stood in a way that he obscured the world for me and I was grateful as I could finally breathe. I held my head in my hands and brought my knees up to my chest, pressing my forehead against my knees, “I’m fine, I’m fine, it’s over.”

I whispered over and over until my brain finally believed what it was hearing and my muscles relaxed just a little bit, but the trembling never went away. I knew I told Wooyoung to tell Sooyoung I wouldn’t go over for dinner tonight, but I didn’t think I’d be able to sleep alone in my apartment tonight.

“Are you hurt?” Iron Man asked as he remained standing, and I gulped and licked my lips, which had become painfully dry in the span of a few minutes.

“No,” I muttered, keeping my eyes closed, “he probably scratched me, but I’m fine.”

“Good, you’re safe.”

“I know.”

My whisper was drowned out by the loud voices of the journalists who made their way down to get the last-minute news just as the cops escorted the man up the stairs. I knew I had to leave a statement and that I would be probably called to the station, but all I wanted to do was get to Sooyoung’s place and soak in a bath until it was time to go to sleep.

“Hey, Mr. Son—I mean, Iron Man!” The same boyish voice that apparently actually saved me from my captor was loud and made me cringe as I raised my head and blinked my eyes open.

“Stop yelling, idiot.” Iron Man hissed and held the man, Spiderman, back by the shoulder as he skipped over to us.

“Oh, sorry.” His voice was slightly distorted, but it was obvious he felt sorry as the eyes of his mask blinked, freaking me out even more than Iron Man’s cold costume. I was very aware that I lived in the same city as certain superheroes, but encountering them felt weird, and if I was being honest, I wasn’t much of a fan. I much preferred seeing them on the news and in newspapers. Spiderman, who sounded way too young even with his voice distorted, seemed to be just as tall as Iron Man, if not taller, and he was lean but muscular. It came as no surprise since he crawled around buildings and hopped around in the sky, hanging off his web—you needed some serious muscles for that, “I didn’t mean to startle you, are you both alright?”

“Yes, not even a scratch—”

“I was scratched.” I snapped as I looked up at the two, hugging my knees close to my chest still. Spiderman’s mask blinked again and I averted my eyes as it made my skin crawl, “But I’m alright, thank you for saving me, Spiderman.”

“Spiderman?!” The iron-clad superhero asked with an edge to his voice, almost as if he was pissed off, “I was the one to come to your rescue first—”

“And yet it was Spiderman who actually did something to save me,” I hissed, utterly spent and pissed off now that I wasn’t held at knifepoint anymore, “All you did was chat away and mock the man, endangering my life even more.”

Silence followed my harsh words but I couldn’t care less as I saw a paramedic with kind eyes and a kind smile approach us carefully, greeting the superheroes meekly, “Miss, we will have to check up on you too now.”

“I’m fine though,” I muttered and tried to stand up but found little to no power in my legs, before I could stumble, Iron Man was by my side and helping me up. I looked up at the iron mask and said nothing as I still felt disdain towards the person behind the mask.

“You don’t look fine, Miss Jang.” I huffed and allowed the superhero to help me stand until the paramedic came to my aid, holding me up as the two superheroes followed us up the stairs.

“Should I carry you, ma’am?” Spiderman asked with worry, “You’re a bit pale, I can carry you if you want me to, I know I look scrawny but I’m actually really strong!”

“I carried her just fine before, do you need assistance?” Iron Man huffed and turned his head sharply towards Spiderman as the two men walked on each side of me and the paramedic. My body was still shaking so it was a little hard to coordinate my legs, but with the help of the paramedic, I was managing just fine, except for the violent thumping of my head and the haze that followed my vision.

“What I need is you two shutting up,” As an afterthought since they did save my life, I added, “Please.”

“Sure, ma’am, but just let me know if anything’s wrong, I can—”

“Shut up.” Iron Man groaned loudly, and the paramedic snickered as if a situation like this one was something anything out of the ordinary to him.

“Yes, Mr. Son—uh, Iron Man! I mean, Iron Man, sorry sir, I’ll shut up now.” Spiderman’s voice was defeated and a little tight, and I could swear Iron Man muttered a threat under his breath, but once we were up on the surface and all the hustle and bustle of the city hit me, I felt faint. Dangerously faint as I squinted my eyes, the swirling red and blue lights of the ambulance and cop cars blinding me for a second.

“Alright, you can sit in the ambulance and I’ll do a quick check-up.” The paramedic let me know as Spiderman eagerly opened the back of the ambulance and helped the paramedic walk me up and onto the bed, “Do you have anyone we can call to take you home?”

“Park Sooyoung,” I heaved a sigh and opened my purse, “If she doesn’t pick up, then Jung Wooyoung.”

“Oh, that’s—”

“Shut up!” I flinched at Iron Man’s harsh tone as he yanked Spiderman by the collar all up in his face, shaking the younger-sounding boy as he just chuckled awkwardly and scratched the back of his head.

“Sorry, Mr. S.”

The paramedic snickered again and I handed him over my phone as he grabbed his little light to flash my eyes and momentarily blind me, “So, because it’s protocol, I’m going to ask how you feel again. Anything that’s changed now that we’re above ground?”

“No, nothing, I’m feeling fine.”

And then, the whole world went dark.

I stared at the screen of my phone, I actually had been for a few good minutes now, but my brain didn’t register the words. Sooyoung was asking if I was up to grab a quick lunch with her, of course, if my oh-so-lovely boss allowed it, but I was way too distracted by said boss’ deep voice speaking in a hushed tone coming from the kitchen. It’s been three days since the whole metro fiasco and I had been down at the police station, gave them my statement, and I would be probably called in as a witness once the court date is set—that fucker isn’t getting out of jail after he tried to kill his girlfriend, I wouldn’t allow it.

People looked at me weirdly and I heard them whispering behind my back whenever I walked down the hallways as, of course, that idiot of a Wooyoung had run his mouth and now the whole company knew that I almost died—his words, not mine. A quick session with the company’s therapist had her convinced that I was alright and needed no further sessions despite my initial disdain to even go to one because I knew I was fine. Of course, I was a little jumpier and avoided the metro even if it took longer to get to work and then home, but until my mind would fully accept that it was a freak accident and that I was at the right place at the wrong time, I couldn’t help but indulge to the small voice of fear at the back of my mind. Sooyoung has been kinder than usual, offering up her spacious couch if I felt like crashing over at her place, but quite frankly, since Wooyoung was almost always over I preferred the quiet of my own apartment, even if I had to triple-check that I locked the front door before I went to sleep.

I was fine, I really was—and this isn’t me trying to convince myself—it’s been three days after all, and to be frank, the fact that these so-called superheroes actually do their job was another comforting thought. Well, Spiderman at least does, can’t say much about Iron Man. The only ‘help’ he offered was to stall and distract my captor, something me and the other on-lookers were managing just fine on our own too. But still, I felt a little bit of gratitude for the iron-clad superhero too for holding me and reassuring me when my brain was fogged up with terror and conviction that I was going to die. But now, three days later, things that seemed insignificant at the moment came back in flashes that had me questioning myself whether it was a fragment of my imagination or it truly had been said.

The first and biggest issue that seemed to concern me was the fact that Iron Man seemed to know my name when it wasn’t said or mentioned at the scene at all. It didn’t even occur to me at that moment as I was too wrapped up in the fact that a knife no longer put my life at risk, and even welcomed the familiarity and reassurance the superhero brought with his words. But now that I was conscious and no longer ridden with fear, I was thoroughly confused. I knew nobody had uttered my name, not even me, so just how was it possible that the iron-clad man had known it? Did superheroes have mind-reading powers too, or was it just common knowledge that Iron Man knew these sorts of things? Had I been hallucinating? But that couldn’t be either because I was sure he had said it twice, that must’ve meant something. Like the fact that I wasn’t hallucinating.

And then, not because I associate and compare all assholes to my boss, but the way Iron Man mocked my captor sounded a lot similar to the way Song Mingi would talk down on his employees, sneer on his face as arrogancy laced his tone. The voice modulator Iron Man used made it harder to assess any emotion in his tone, but I was sure I have heard a tinge of cockiness in it when he was busy mocking the man instead of saving me from him. It was a far-fetched reach, I knew it, but there was also this gut feeling that told me to trust myself and roll with the delusion. And my intuition had never been wrong before.

The third reason that it all seemed a little suspicious to me—completely aware that this was a relative fact and any man could have the physique of my boss—it still made me search up photos of Iron Man that had been taken on a whim for magazines to compare to those editorial shots Song Mingi enjoyed doing. It was a match, their shoulders wide and broad, hips narrow, creating the perfect inverted triangle shape that so many people went crazy over. Their heights seemed to be a match too, both tall intimidatingly so. I read through forums to see what others who had encountered the superhero had to say, and I wasn’t surprised to find out that they were rather condescending about him. Apparently, he liked to talk a lot before he got to do the saving, and it put other’s lives more in danger, sometimes resulting in grave injuries. He spoke like he ruled the whole world and everyone else had to bow down to him, and he oftentimes after saving the victims disregarded them and told them to go on their merry way and be more mindful next time, as if it was their fault that they had fallen victims in the first place.

And lastly, because perhaps it was the most pressing issue after the fact that Iron Man knew my name, it was the certainty that Spiderman seemed to be familiar enough with the other superhero to know his identity and address him by his name. Now, Iron Man stopped the other one each time from saying his name fully, but I had caught the little he had said, and ever since I had been thinking. I have heard others at the workplace address Song Mingi as ‘Mr. S’ more than once, even Wooyoung liked to call him that—and truly, ‘Mr. Son’ could be just an abbreviation for Mr. Song Mingi. I knew I sounded crazy to most, at least to Sooyoung definitely as she laughed when I told her my crazy theory, she didn’t understand why out of all the people I suspected my boss. Well, to be fair, I had no reason for that, but given the fact that the superhero showed up quickly to the scene, it was a real possibility. Even Spiderman and the police took longer, the company was right by the metro and Mr. Song specifically told me to go home as he wished to be alone.

Plus, because I knew Sooyoung would still consider me crazy, I told her about the fact that one time when I had been cleaning my boss’ office I discovered a hidden entry while I tried to move a decorative piece on the bookshelf. It looked like some classic villain shit at that time, but I said nothing about it to no one as I was rather complacent about keeping my job—I was still relatively new at the company. Sooyoung just laughed it off and told me that he probably had a vault in there for all the money and worthy items he owned. In fairness, it sounded plausible if my brain hadn’t decided to be suspicious of Song Mingi’s identity.

I had been devising a plan for the past two days, wondering about ways I could find out the superhero’s identity, or how I could catch my boss red-handed, but nothing was smart or subtle enough. He’d be able to trace it back to me and then all of my hard work at this company would go to waste, I didn’t want that. However, before I could start dwelling more on this, I was snapped out of my thoughts as Mr. Song’s voice carried closer to me.

“No, I told you not to come here—” Then he cut himself off with a groan, and I quickly straightened up in my chair as Mr. Song rounded the corner, the light in the kitchen switching off behind him. If he was good at something, even I couldn’t deny that it was the artificial intelligence he developed and then implemented in the whole building, “I’m not paying for your lunch again, Yunho.”

Gripping my phone a little tighter as I still had to text Sooyoung back, I allowed my eyes to rest on my boss as I took in his form, trying to recall Iron Man’s too at the same time. Mr. Song wore a suit today, all black and extremely form-fitting, with his black hair pushed back, showing off the undercut he thought made him look hotter. His vest expanded over his chest and became narrow at his waist, however, when he turned his back to me, I noticed that he had it pinched in so that it would cling to his hips instead of hanging freely and comfortably. I knew he was a man full of himself, but it was extremely infuriating that he knew how hot he was and he wasn’t ashamed to show it off too, “I told you I’m busy, kid, I can’t just free up my schedule whenever your devices go to shit.”

I flinched when Mr. Song suddenly turned, narrowed eyes landing on me as I turned my head and looked down at the computer, pretending to type away on it as I placed my phone next to the mousepad. My boss continued watching me and I tried not to peek at him, unusual to see him wear his thick glasses. Mrs. Bae had told me that he much preferred contacts and that we’d need to order new ones for him from time to time, so it made me fidgety as I wondered whether amidst my workload I had forgotten to order him some new ones, “Yunho, you’re a big boy, take care of it yourself.”

And then he rudely hung up as I could hear the other person still speaking on the other end. Mr. Song groaned loudly and my muscles tensed when he approached my desk, coming way too close for comfort. He leaned his hip against the side of it and crossed his arms in front of his chest, looking down at me. I tried not to scowl as I fixed my posture and read through the email that just made it into the inbox.

“Slacking off already?” Mr. Song mused, voice impassive, “It’s barely your fourth day.”

I remained silent and opened the email instead, skimming through it. The magazine for the editorial shoot has proposed a date and time, so, I turned my head and looked at my boss with a bored look on my face, “Is Wednesday next week good for the editorial shoot?”

“I don’t know,” He scoffed, a smirk pulling onto his lips, “You’re my secretary, you’re the one that knows my schedule.”

My jaw clenched as I stared into his sharp eyes for a second longer, hoping that he’d see I wasn’t impressed by his jabs, “Your Wednesday is free, sir, that’s why I’m asking. It so seems most of your schedules depend on whether you’re in a good mood or not, sir.”

I smiled sweetly as Mr. Song’s eyes narrowed just a little, and then he bent down, his face coming too close for my comfort, “How attentive of you. Tell them I’m only available at noon for two hours, and you’re coming too.”

“I’m doing what?” I asked alarmed, eyes widening, “Mrs. Bae never had to go with you—”

“But you’re not Mrs. Bae, are you?” I wished to punch the smirk off his face as his eyes once again took me in closely, travelling lower on my body before they stopped on my lips, making my heart beat just a bit quicker, “So free up your own schedule and dress in something sexy, can’t have you looking like a grandma if you’re to be seen in public with me.”

I couldn’t help but gape at his blatant disrespect, palms turning into fists as I turned my chair to face him better, disgusted and irritated as I tried to remain level-headed, “Since it’s my closet and my body, I’ll dress in whatever I find fit and comfortable for such occasion, Mr. Song, thank you for the recommendation though.”

“It was an order, not a recommendation.” Mr. Song’s smirk widened and my blood boiled as it was clear as day that he was enjoying the exchange, that he was having fun that I was getting heated over this, “I can buy you something pretty, Miss Jang, if that’s the issue.”

I stood up, unable to control myself as I glared my boss down despite him being obviously taller than me, “I don’t need you to buy me anything and I won’t have you order me around unless it’s strictly work-related. Just because your name is Song Mingi and you’re rich and can have anything and anyone, don’t think I won’t hurl your ass to court for breaching the contract and for trying to exploit your employees. I’m not your pet, Song.”

All amusement and arrogance left Mr. Song’s face as his expression turned cold, his sharp eyes running over my features before he hummed, rubbing his bottom lip as his glasses slipped lower on his tall nose, “Sweet, Miss Jang, perhaps then you can cancel the lunch with Mr. Park I should be leaving for right now, something more important came up. I assume you can do this much since it’s work-related.”

I gritted my teeth and exhaled, letting my features relax as I plastered on my generic smile and bowed my head just slightly, “Sure, Mr. Song, anything else?”

He took a second as he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose then smoothed out his vest, leaning incredibly close so that I would hear his low voice, “The celebratory party for our collaboration with the car brand is this Saturday, I assume you know most employees are invited. You weren’t since it was Mrs. Bae supposed to come, but since you’re replacing her, I’ll be expecting to see you. Jongho will pick you up half an hour before the event.”

My mouth fell open as Mr. Song hummed and cast me one last glance before he turned and headed for his office, my mind reeling at what just happened. Jongho was his personal driver and assistant, he was almost always at his side when the two were out and about as he also served as Mr. Song’s bodyguard. I tried to form some coherent words and refuse the weird proposition, but Mr. Song was already inside his office, however, he left his door open again. My eyebrows furrowed as I settled back down in my chair, nose picking up on a sweet but musky scent that never failed to invade my nose whenever I went inside my boss’ office. It was the cologne he had been using ever since I got to know him, and my eyebrows furrowed as the elevator suddenly dinged, signalling that someone had come up to our floor. Coming to think of it, despite the metal and the obvious smell of iron, something sweet and musky clung just faintly to Iron Man’s costume the day he had saved me.

“Hi!” I flinched at the excited and loud voice, shaking my head to clear the thoughts away as I looked up. I was surprised to see a teenager standing in front of my desk, eyes round and smile brighter than my future as his puffy cheeks were tinged slightly red. He had a scarf around his neck that hid his chin and lips and he pulled his beanie off, ruffling his greenish-bluish-greyish hair, “My name is Yunho! I’m here to see Mr. S.”

“Uhm,” My eyebrows furrowed as I looked down at my computer to quickly run through Mr. Song’s schedule, “Yunho and…?”

“Jeong, Jeong Yunho, ma’am.” He answered, tone warm and soft and yet boyish at the same time as he rocked back and forth on his heels. I scanned through the schedule but his name didn’t pop up.

“Well, I don’t see you in here, Mr. Jeong.” I pursed my lips remembering Mr. Song’s orders and what I managed to eavesdrop on while he was on the phone, “But he did cancel an important lunch, were you just on the phone with him?”

“Yeah, some of my—uh, devices for school broke and I need Mr. Song’s help.” The young boy tried with a tentative smile and I hummed in acknowledgement, eyeing him curiously. But before I could tell him that I needed to check with Mr. Song first, the man appeared in the doorway and sighed loudly.

“Come on, Yunho, I don’t have all day just because you decided to parade your girlfriend around the city and broke it again.” Mr. Song deadpanned, but I was surprised to see fondness in his eyes as Yunho grinned widely, darting towards my boss after he gave me a cute wave, “Miss Jang, you can go have lunch, we’ll be busy for an hour or so, take your time.”

“Oh, Miss Jang, that’s why—” Yunho’s eyes widened as if in recognition, and I watched him with confusion as Mr. Song slapped a hand over his mouth and yanked the boy who was slightly taller than him inside his office, door slamming closed behind them, “I didn’t know she worked for you—”

“Shut up.”

And just like that, my suspicion of their identity intensified. Could Song Mingi actually be Iron Man? I didn’t know yet, but I was convinced to find out, and a brilliant idea just came to mind. I grabbed my phone and texted Sooyoung that I was too busy to have lunch today and left for the security room of our building. Call me crazy but my gut feeling was never wrong.

However, there was a single flaw in my plan. How in the hell was I going to execute it without raising suspicions? But it was too late to dwell on that as I had already knocked on the door and was waiting for the security guy to open it. Chewing on my bottom lip, I wondered which lie would be more believable, and just as I debated on wringing Wooyoung into it too, the door opened. Thankfully it wasn’t Chanyeol as he’d be able to tell my bullshit from miles away, so I smiled cheerily and hoped the middle-aged security guard would fall for my lie.

“Hello, I’m Jang Y/N, I’m Mr. Song’s secretary assistant.” I handed my badge to the security guard and he grunted as he looked over it, handing it back to me, “I was wondering if you could let me take a peek at the security footage. My car was scratched yesterday and I’d like to see who did it since they didn’t bother leaving a note on my windshield.”

I tried my best to look disheartened but also slightly annoyed. The security guard froze for a second and then glanced behind himself, “Uh, I mean, I can look at it for you, just give me the car model and license plate.”

Fuck, that’s not how this was supposed to go. I bit my bottom lip and tried to improvise before the guard caught onto me, “You see…my ex works here too and I am pretty sure it was him. We weren’t able to settle things nicely and I know he’s still got a vendetta for me. I would hate to make this difficult for you, but I’ve got a restraining order pending and I would need the footage like…right now, you know? I can film it with my phone and later on get it emailed, but my lawyer is expecting it today if it actually was my ex.”

I almost grinned at how put-together and real my lie sounded, proud of myself. The guard’s face fell and I tried to school my expression into something like sadness and worry as he sighed, looking behind himself, “Fine, come in.”

I offered him a thankful smile and followed him inside, bowing at the other security guards as they gave us curious looks but greeted me back wordlessly. The guard led me to a different room littered with monitors and I stopped behind the chair he sat in, eyebrows furrowed as he opened a new window and typed in a code I couldn’t see as it was protected from view, “This was yesterday? When?”

“Well,” I fiddled with my fingers and tried to rake my brain for the time Wooyoung left work, “maybe around six or seven in the evening?”

“You stay a lot for someone who’s Mr. Song’s secretary assistant.” The guard made small talk as he typed in some more codes and opened up the app.

“His secretary is sick so I’m replacing her for the time being, there’s a lot of work,” I explained and he hummed, nodding his head in understanding.

“When I don’t have the overnight shift, I also spend my whole day here,” He didn’t sound as bothered as I expected him to be, “The company is huge so we must work hard to keep it going, Mr. Song appreciates us and treats us well after all.”

Well, I didn’t want to crush the false image he had of our boss, but the guard was a man and after all, Song Mingi treated his male employees a lot better and with more respect than his female ones. Besides, I bet he barely came in contact with any of his security guards—besides Chanyeol, I suppose—so of course they’d have a positive image of their boss.

“Right, you’re right,” I answered absentmindedly and watched the guard click onto the screen that looked over the garage, clicking some more to rewind the footage to yesterday.

“What car are we looking at?” He asked and I almost groaned, trying to remember the model of Wooyoung’s car.

“It’s a Mercedes-Benz, the newer type.” The guard paused and gave me a look over his shoulder, “Sorry, my ex is part of the engineering team who are developing the new prototype, and I never bothered asking for the model’s name but I’ll know when I see it!”

“I see.” The man muttered and clicked some more and there it was, the footage of Wooyoung’s car but he was nowhere in sight yet, “I’ll speed it up since you don’t know the exact time, tell me when you see him.”

“Thank you.” I gave him a wide smile and the guard grunted as he pressed play, people and cars moved quickly on the screen, but not so quickly that we wouldn’t be able to recognize them. However, this is where the issue of not having a well-thought-out plan came into play. I had no idea how to get the guard to show me footage of Mr. Song’s office, and I was also sure he’d never show it to me and would even get me fired. I tried to think hard of a way just as I spotted Wooyoung headed towards his car, I sighed but spoke up, “That’s him!”

The guard stopped the video to slow it down to regular speed, and then pressed play again, making me chew on my bottom lip and wonder whether I’d be fired if I knocked him out right now. There must be cameras inside this place too and just to make sure, I looked up towards the corner and saw the blinking red light of the CCTV. I sighed but focused back on the screen just as the guard’s phone rang. He cursed as he looked down at his phone and then paused the footage, swivelling around in his chair.

“I have to take this call; it’ll take a few minutes.” He said as he stood and hurried towards the door, “I’ll be back and then we can have a look at the footage together.”

“Sure, take your time!” I grinned at him and waved him off as he quickly left, accepting the call before the door was even closed behind him. Bingo, this was my time to shine. I waited for the guard’s voice to fade into the background and to make sure that no other guard came onside, and then I took my spot in the chair and swivelled closer to the screens. It took me a second to realize how to switch between the many screens, but having paid attention to the guard I realized that it was easier to moderate the system than I initially thought. I clicked on the window that had Mr. Song’s office and squinted my eyes as I watched him and Yunho huddled together at his desk, things pushed to the side as they both were leaning over something. I searched the screen for something that would make the image larger and grinned when I spotted the emoticon, clicking on it quickly as I was curious to see what got the two men so concerned.

Something small, a device as they had called it, was placed on the desk as they crowded around it, lips moving as they spoke to each other. The younger boy had disregarded his backpack, coat, scarf and beanie on the leather sofa and seemed rather comfortable despite this being the first time I saw the two together. But based on Mr. Song’s body language and the way he spoke to him, I knew the two were familiar with each other. A little intrigued myself by that little device, I found myself curiously watching the footage, a yelp almost leaving my mouth when the two men sprung back as something wet exploded out of it. It covered the two in a sticky-like substance and I watched amazed as Mr. Song’s rigid expression melted into that of amusement as Yunho’s head was thrown back, body shaking from his laughter. It only took another second before Mr. Song was also laughing, pulling his glasses off and nudging Yunho as the taller one clung to my boss and threw more of that weird substance at Mr. Song. I had never seen my boss so laid back and happy so it took me a second to snap out of it and stop admiring his crooked smile through the CCTV, subsequently remembering why I was here.

Adrenaline rushed through my system as I realized the guard could be back anytime and catch me red-handed, surely I’d be fired with a case on my hands then, and despite Song Mingi being a nightmare, the paycheck and people working here were too good for me to want to actually leave this company. So, I found the option that allowed me to rewind the footage, only to get my hopes crushed when it asked for a code. I bit my bottom lip and tried to recall the numbers the guard had typed in since I took a peek at the keyboard, but it was fruitless. I found myself slightly panicking and pulling at the collar of my blue striped shirt, the chain of my badge brushing against my hand. My eyes widened and I looked down at it wonderingly, could it work? Pressed by time, I decided to try my luck once again as I flipped my badge and searched for my security number on it. I glanced back at the screen and decided to do it, type in my security number. The worst that could happen was the artificial host that Mr. Song designed would recognize someone was trying to ‘hack’ into the system and shut down the whole company while alerting the police and Mr. Song—lovely.

Sweating a little as my finger hovered over the enter button, I took a deep breath and swiftly pressed it as I had wasted too much time already. To my surprise, the screen started loading as it scanned the code and then suddenly it flashed black before a new window popped up asking for a date and time. My jaw dropped open in surprise and I fumbled for a second as my heart thundered in my chest, unable to celebrate my victory as I pressed in the date and approximate time with shaky fingers, chewing on my bottom lip. I must’ve eaten the lip tint already despite applying it this morning with how much I bit and licked at my lips due to being nervous. The screen loaded once again and then there it was. Mr. Song in his office, all alone, the hallway dark outside as I had left just a few minutes ago. He was sat in his chair, leaned back with his legs spread wide open as he stared out the window, running his fingers through his hair. Something seemed to get his attention as a red light flashed on his desk, and I realized it was coming from the thing I assumed was his desk clock. His lips moved but there was no sound as the cameras only recorded images, and then I watched as Mr. Song’s jaw clenched and eyebrows furrowed. He sprung out of his chair and rushed towards the massive staircase, his fingers brushing against the books and the decorative piece I accidentally discovered myself.

I wasn’t surprised to see the staircase moving, making way to a dark passageway that was lit up as Mr. Song quickly hurried down, disappearing from the camera. I looked over the other windows and realized that there were no cameras in the room he had just gone in, so I prepared my phone's camera pointing it at the screen, and pressed record. The wait made it worse; my heart was thumping fast and every sound outside the door made me jump, but just when I considered fast-forwarding, Song Mingi appeared in the frame once again. No, not Song Mingi but Iron Man. Its mask was still open so nobody could even deny it that it wasn’t Song Mingi and I gasped as I watched him walk towards his window while pressing buttons on the left arm of his suit. The mask closed and the window slid to the left, making way for Iron Man to leave the office. And then, he was off, flying towards the metro station and leaving me gaping as I paused the footage and stopped my recording. My fingers shook as I fell back in the chair and I ran my fingers through my hair, not having actually expected Mr. Song to be Iron Man.

Of course, I was quite suspicious and even almost fully convinced it was him, but I fully expected to be proven otherwise since I was only being delusional, as Sooyoung had claimed. But no, it was real, my gut feeling was right once again. I took a second to try and wrap my mind around my findings and rationalize my next thought, but there were loud noises outside the room and I panicked, clicking through the windows and struggling to get rid of the footage I had just watched as I couldn’t find the ‘x’ button. The door opened just as I jumped out of the chair and raised my phone as if I had gotten an urgent text or phone call.

“Sorry about that, it was an urgent—”

“Mr. Song just texted me that he needs me up at the office, thank you but I’ll come back sometime else!” I rushed out as the security guard looked at me confused, stepping aside when I hurried towards the door.

“Oh, if you tell me the license plate, I can email it to—”

“Don’t worry about it!” I gave him a bright smile and a tap on his shoulder before I dashed outside, heart beating fast as I clutched my phone to my chest, the video in my gallery glaring back at me as I ran for the stairs, trying to keep my legs steady due to the heels I wore. But what would I do now? Do I tell Mr. Song that I know who he is? That I know he’s Iron Man? Or do I try to exploit this since he’s always an asshole and even a jerk to me? Does Mrs. Bae even know? What would she do in this situation? She’d certainly be disappointed in me if she were to know I tried blackmailing my boss, but if Mr. Song had been a nice person, then I wouldn’t have tried my luck with this crucial information on my hands.

Blackmailing it is, then.

The rest of the day felt like torture. Pacing up and down outside Mr. Song’s office while he was busy with his meetings and who knows what else didn’t help at all with soothing my nerves, and despite a quick Google search of effective blackmailing tactics, I still came up empty-handed. I had to admit that I wasn’t as brave as I had once regarded myself, but if there was one thing I knew about myself, it was that I was stubborn and determined to go through with this no matter what. I didn’t have an exact reason as to why I was doing this, but I was self-aware enough to realise that I wanted to feel in control, that I wanted to show Mr. Song that he wasn’t untouchable and neither the hot shit he believed himself to be. Of course, he could fire me and blacklist me at all companies, but as Wooyoung once had said, why live a boring life when you can bring a little edge and excitement into it by fucking it up yourself. He was right, but I didn’t know whether taking advice from someone like Wooyoung was smart or not.

So, without wanting to gain anything out of blackmailing Song Mingi, I decided to stay for as long as he did, and just be upfront when he’d be on his way home. Surely, he’d be too tired by then to give too many fucks about his stupid secretary assistant—now secretary replacement—and maybe he’d offer me more money, which…I would accept, obviously, but not without making a few demands like, he’d have to behave if he wanted to talk to me and respect me like any other male employee he had. Surely, I wasn’t asking for much, but with my boss, you never knew what was too much.

So, when it was well after working hours and my legs and back ached from sitting all day long, I decided to brew myself some tea and wait for another hour before I’d finally go home. Mr. Song had been cooped up in his office for hours now, the door closed and locked, and the windows were blurred so that only the light pouring out from underneath his door was the only visible thing and a tell-tale sign that he was still at the company. I couldn’t lie, I was actually quite curious about what he was doing in there, but my pride wouldn’t allow me to ask him—maybe I could ask Mrs. Bae once she had returned. While the kettle whistled and sizzled as I poured the hot water into my cup, I failed to hear that Mr. Song unlocked his door and opened it with a loud groan, too caught up in not spilling the hot water like I had done so before many times. With two spoonfuls of honey in it and the teabag thrown into the bin, I smiled in content as I made to return to my desk. Since I was still here, I figured I could phone up the accountant and settle the monthly appointment he had with Mr. Song, but I was scared out of my mind once I spotted Mr. Song’s tall frame leaning against the doorframe. His arm was up and pressing into the doorframe. His hair looked dishevelled, his black shirt was untucked from his pants with the top buttons unbuttoned, and his vest forgotten somewhere in his office.

I halted as if I was caught doing something bad and stared back at my boss as he fixed his thick glasses. He pursed his lips and looked rather displeased at seeing me, but his eyes curiously fell onto the cup I was holding, mindful of the hot ceramic, “What are you drinking?”

“Wildberry tea,” I answered and cleared my throat, resuming my walk over to my desk. Mr. Song hummed and licked his lips, eyes stuck to my form as I gave him a questioning look once I sat down in my chair.

“Could you make me some too?” He asked, sounding so unlike himself as his tone was laced with exhaustion, “Is it sweet?”

“Yeah, it’s sweet,” I said as he tapped the doorframe before he turned to head back inside his office.

“Make me some!” He called over his shoulder and I rolled my eyes, slouching in my chair. I didn’t want to get up again and fetch him some tea when my feet were killing me, he could get it himself, but he was too lazy and I knew he had fun walking me around all day as if I were his pet, it was infuriating. But perhaps this was my chance to finally do what I was here for, blackmail him. I grinned as I got up from my chair with a newfound passion, hurrying towards the kitchen to pour my boss tea and add two spoonfuls of honey. I placed the cup on a tray as well as three chocolate chip cookies, a napkin, and then I headed for Mr. Song’s office after I fetched my phone. It sat heavy in my dress pants’ pocket as I knocked on the open door as a heads up that I was heading in, and then I walked inside, my red high heels clicking loudly against the marble floor as it was dead silent in Mr. Song’s office.

It was dimly lit now, unlike when the door was closed and locked, and I let my eyes quickly run over the place as they lingered on the hidden door, it was closed, of course. I averted my eyes and looked back at my boss, whose eyebrows were furrowed and glasses discarded in front of him as he stared at his computer’s screen with mild annoyance on his face. Some strands of his black hair stuck up in places in a funny way, and I gulped down the chuckle that threatened to escape my lips, It was rather unusual seeing Mr. Song so stressed and pressed by whatever had him annoyed.

“Here’s your tea,” I announced as I came to a stop next to him, not too close though, and placed the tray carefully on the desk, in its usual spot. Mr. Song hummed, his eyes still glued to the screen, and too curious for my own good, I took a peek at it, surprised to find him reading the news about a war that’s been ongoing for way too long now. I never took Mr. Song as a person who would worry about others or would feel pressured to do something, but the creases on his forehead and the slight sneer on his lips were rather obvious factors that he wasn’t pleased with the development of the war. And then, looking at the article for a little longer, I realized they were bashing his weapons and his company. Now it made sense that he looked annoyed, suddenly I didn’t feel as brave as before to tell him that I knew he was Iron Man.

“Did you put sugar in it?” He suddenly asked and glanced at me, making me stand up straight and quickly avert my eyes from his computer’s screen.

“No, it’s better with honey,” I answered and his eyebrows only furrowed further as he glanced at the tray then back at me. He fell back in his chair and heaved a long sigh, chewing on his bottom lip. The longer I looked at him, the more I realized something was bothering him. I didn’t dare ask whether anything was wrong, and he said nothing as he continued looking at me. My heart had started beating faster and I gulped as my phone seemed to weigh bricks in my pocket, a reminder of why I was still at the company and not at home, in my bathtub soaking up my flowery scented bath bombs.

“I don’t like honey.” Mr. Song muttered at last and I bit my tongue to stop myself from saying something I might regret later. I sighed and reached for the teacup with a displeased expression on my face.

“Fine, I’ll bring you another one with sugar—”

“I’ll drink it.” I froze as he grabbed my hand, looking up at me with glimmering eyes, and suddenly I couldn’t think straight. He looked very much nothing like the man I had known for years, and it almost made me question myself. Could Mr. Song have an actual soft and caring side? Was he not always an arrogant prick who hit on women and only used them for his sexual needs? I gulped and looked down at our hands, his big palm was calloused and it almost completely engulfed my hand. It made my cheeks flush and I found myself speechless for a second.

“Oh, okay,” I said quietly and went to pull back, but Mr. Song didn’t release my hand just yet. His eyebrows were furrowed and he seemed to be in deep thought as he looked up at me again with defeat in his eyes.

“Do you ever feel alone, Miss Jang?” My eyes widened at the sincerity in his voice and more so because of the question he asked. I had never thought a man like Song Mingi would be asking me such a thing, certainly, he cannot be lonely, he’s got everyone and everything he could ever want. Perhaps it’s a trick question he can fire me over.

“I think everyone feels alone at times, Mr. Song.” I answered truthfully, not expecting him to nod along and hum in agreement. I almost jumped when his thumb started caressing my skin, covering my arms in goosebumps as I once again looked down at our hands. His touch was warm and gentle, inoffensive and almost as if he wasn’t doing it consciously as it was slow and inconsistent.

“Even if they are constantly surrounded by people?” I nodded as I continued looking down, shifting my weight from one leg to another.

“Of course, it doesn’t matter how many people are around us and, on our side, if they only want something from us.” I shrugged and looked up, finding Mr. Song already looking at me intensely. I gulped and continued unsurely, “I mean, many people only create connections to exploit them later on, so I think it’s important to surround ourselves with genuine people who want what’s best for us, like our friends.”

“And if the individual doesn’t have genuine friends?” Mr. Song suddenly stood and I felt a little intimidated as he placed my hand on his desk and pressed his over mine, pretty much trapping me in one place, unless I wanted to rip it out from underneath his touch.

“Then it must be a truly lonely life, Mr. Song, they should look for quality and not quantity.” My eyebrows furrowed as Mr. Song’s strong cologne reached my nose, and it was a sore reminder that I had a plan that I still hadn’t gone through with yet.

“There are few chances to meet genuine people in my line of work,” He chuckled bitterly and stepped closer, making me look up at him as my heart started racing uncomfortably once again. His proximity felt a little uncomfortable but not as bothersome as on my first day—perhaps because he had no regard for personal space and always managed to invade it somehow, even if he was just talking to you, “There are few people who see me for who I am.”

I hummed and bit my bottom lip to stop myself from slipping up and telling him that there was a reason for that and that it was because he was a complete asshole to almost absolutely everyone. But my silence seemed to only spur him on and I was rather surprised that my boss was pouring his heart out to me in his office, after working hours, “There’s few people who don’t want what I own and even fewer people who aren’t eager to get in my good graces just because I’m powerful and able to change their lives for the better or worse. And even fewer women who wouldn’t bed me just because I’m rich and own a mansion and luxurious cars.”

Ah, so Mr. Song was only trying to get in my pants. I was surprised to find myself disappointed and bitter as the thought settled deep in my mind while Mr. Song’s hand slowly gripped my wrist, pulling me gently towards himself as I was unable to react just yet. I thought we were having a genuine conversation about a rather trivial issue that everyone faced daily, but no, he just wanted to fuck me. I should’ve expected it, of course, he wasn’t trying to pour his soul out to someone willing to listen, even if that someone was his secretary’s assistant. Of course, he wasn’t a good human being who tried to find solace in another one, to make a genuine connection and speak honestly. Instead of being disappointed by Mr. Song’s actions, I should’ve been more disappointed in myself and the fact that I believed he could be good even if for a few minutes. It made me want to cry, but instead, I felt rage simmer under my skin and my expression became schooled as Mr. Song continued staring into my eyes deeply, his face coming closer and closer. I didn’t move, I let him grip my waist and angle his head so that his lips would brush against mine, and then I spoke.

“I know you’re Iron Man.”

Song Mingi froze, face giving nothing away but his body went rigid and his grip on my waist and wrist tightened. He didn’t have to say anything for me to know that he felt caged, that his mind was twisting and turning to find a reasonable answer that could deny my claim. But I wouldn’t stop now because he didn’t deserve it. He was a piece of shit and I have had enough of him.

“Don’t try to deny it.” My voice was bitter and tone snappy as I glared into his eyes, gripping his arm to push it off my wrist, “I have proof, Mr. Song, and I will take it to newspapers if you try to sweet talk your way out of this.”

“What do you want?” Mr. Song’s was eerily cold, eyes that had been previously soft now all sharp and glaring as he leaned down so that we’d be eye to eye, our jaws clenched as I hoped my expression conveyed the spite I felt towards him.

“Nothing,” I shrugged and watched as his eyebrows formed a small frown, “Nothing material that is, but you should start fixing your attitude towards your employees and women especially. It’s sickening that you think you can toy around with us and then fire us because you got bored of fucking the same person, Mr. Song. It’s disgusting—you are disgusting by doing this.”

He released me at once and took a step back, furious very obviously as he scoffed, pushing his hair back and out of his eyes, “And this concerns you how? I thought you were a mere employee and not my mother, Miss Jang, but by all means, please tell me what else I need to fix to fall into your good graces.”

I smiled at him, all sarcastic and ready to tell him to fuck himself, “The last thing I wish for is to spend more time with you, sir, so don’t worry, you won’t have to fall into my good graces, I don’t think that’s even possible at this point. I was merely making a suggestion, perhaps you’d feel less alone if you tried to maintain a pure and genuine connection with someone for once.”

“If that is all, you can go home, Miss Jang.” Mr. Song crossed his arms in front of his chest, lips forming a sneer, “Maybe I shouldn’t have saved you if you’re so ungrateful.”

“Spiderman saved me, not you.” I snapped with fire in my voice, annoyed and irritated, “Even when you’re supposed to save someone all you can do is be arrogant and satisfy your need to show you’re superior to others, it’s pitiful—”

“Out, now.”

With one last shared glare full of spite, I stormed out of his office and Mr. Song walked after me to slam his door closed shatteringly strong.

I should have been fired. I know I should have been because I was disrespectful to my boss, and perhaps if I had been in his place, I would’ve fired myself for sure. But I knew his secret and maybe that played a part in me keeping this job for who knows how long. But still, I should have been fired, or at least never spoken to again by Mr. Song, so explain why I found a fancy black box in front of my front door this morning after I returned from grocery shopping. Yes, it was Saturday and I was expected to show up at this fancy get-together to celebrate the collaboration of the two companies, and yes, I did consider emailing Mr. Song that I had fallen ill and wouldn’t make it. So, imagine my complete shock when I unboxed my anonymous package and found a gorgeous black dress with the price still on, making my jaw drop not once but twice. It cost a fortune and I might as well have lost my mind when I found the small note tucked underneath the satin fabric.

There’s a dress code for the party, wear this. ~ S.M.

Perhaps getting an existential crisis would’ve sounded much better than getting an insanely expensive cocktail dress gifted by your boss to an event you had no business attending, but because his secretary couldn’t go you had to fill in for her. I love Mrs. Bae dearly, but this was not in the job description when I sent my resume in. I knew people of all sorts would be there, all important and owners of multifaceted businesses and companies that were just as rich as Mr. Song’s, and I was understandably nervous. I knew I wasn’t supposed to speak to anyone, which I was more than glad to do, but what if anyone spoke to me? What was I supposed to do then? Mind racing with all different sorts of scenarios, I decided to ask Sooyoung to come over and help me get ready—which was actually just a distraction from the fact that I couldn’t stop thinking about that damned Song Mingi.

Sooyoung, as always, was a sweetheart and made me laugh while we had lunch, while Wooyoung harassed us with phone calls, saying that he also wanted to come over and participate in all the gossiping he knew we’d be doing. San wasn’t available tonight, which meant that Wooyoung would be bored, but in the end, threatening to block his number on both phones managed to calm him down, so he finally left us alone. Sooyoung just sighed and apologized because Wooyoung was still clingy after three years of dating, and Sooyoung knew I could get easily annoyed and overwhelmed by her overbearing boyfriend. But I knew he meant well, and I never guilt-tripped Sooyoung too much for her boyfriend’s obnoxious personality.

But the moment to get ready came and I was more than mortified when Sooyoung emptied her tote bag on my bed and started listing off all the lotions and serums and perfumes and bath bombs she brought over for me to use, “You never know where you’ll meet your man, Y/N, you must be ready at all times!”

“Does that mean I must exfoliate my body with three different body soaps?!”

“Well, obviously yes! Your skin needs to be soft!”

“My skin is already soft, you know that. I’m not using all of that Sooyoung, please.”

“Fine, but shave at least, okay? For me?”

“I don’t shave, I only wax.”

“But tonight—”

“I’m not going there because I’m trying to bag a billionaire, Sooyoung, I’m going because my boss told me to go.”

“You could’ve said no.”

“And risk getting fired?”

“Fair enough, go on then, time is ticking, bestie.”

And that is how I found myself two hours into getting ready, only a few more minutes until Jongho buzzed me to go down so that he could drive us to the company. Sooyoung helped me do a low bun that sat securely at my nape, front strands curled and framing my face prettily. My makeup was simple because I refused to let her help me with a smokey eye, I opted to wear a softer eye look so that I could wear my red lipstick. Sooyoung had a similar reaction to me when she saw my dress, and her jaw was on the floor as she reluctantly touched the glittery tulle dress, eyes switching between me and the dress.

“So, he bought this for you?” She asked with her mouth still hanging open as I changed into clean underwear in my bathroom.

“I’m sure he had it lying around somewhere in that big mansion of his,” I muttered with a scoff and Sooyoung tsked.

“No, I’m sure he bought it specifically for you, Y/N.” I rolled my eyes and prayed the stockings wouldn’t rip as I pulled them over my knees.

“Yeah, sure, I’m not some peasant turned princess overnight, okay?” I muttered with a huff as I started sweating, this stocking was kicking me in the butt, had I gotten a size smaller?

“Y/N,” Sooyoung’s serious voice made me yelp as she appeared in the doorway, pushing the door open. She had an incredulous look on her face like she had seen a ghost or had been just proposed to, I couldn’t decide, “Your name is on the tag, sewn into it, more specifically—”

“What?” I asked alarmed as I pushed past her and went to my bed to see for myself. I managed to adjust my stockings and gave a last prayer that they wouldn’t rip until I made it back home, then I wouldn’t care about it anymore. I held the dress carefully and touched the tag, leaning down to see it better. My eyes widened when I realized Sooyoung wasn’t joking, and I looked at her with round eyes, “What?!”

“Exactly!” Sooyoung shrieked and I gulped, jerking my head away when she came and hugged my side, “Are you sure you’re not into your boss?”

“Yes, very sure.” I huffed and made sure Sooyoung wouldn’t ruin my hair or makeup as I let her continue embracing me.

“Not even a little bit?” She grinned and batted her eyelashes at me, “Because I’m sure he is into you—”

“Alright, stop right there.” I groaned and pulled myself out of her embrace, “My boss is a womanizer and two days ago he tried to tell me a sob story to try and get into my pants, so no, Song Mingi isn’t into me and I’m not into him. Case closed, Sooyoung, I hate him and I hope he hates me too. I cannot wait for Mrs. Bae to return so that I don’t have to face him ever again.”

Sooyoung pursed her lips and gave me a look as she raised the dress for me, “Fine, but nobody gifts a dress like this—”

“He’s a millionaire—if not billionaire at this point—so no, Sooyoung, he can gift me a dress like that because it’s nothing compared to how much he spends monthly.” Before Sooyoung could oppose, I raised my hand, “I know because I’m the one who puts together his monthly expenses.”

“Okay, whatever.” Sooyoung huffed in defeat and walked closer, “Jongho is supposed to arrive any minute now, let’s get you into the dress.”

And I let my best friend help me wear the expensive and gorgeous dress, soft against my skin and exactly my size. I didn’t want to think too hard about how Mr. Song knew my exact size, but I suppose when you sleep with so many women, one glance at their bodies and you just know. A rather disturbing and disgusting thought that I didn’t care to dwell on too much right now.

The dress reached past my knees and the sparkly fabric that came over the satin didn’t bother my skin at all. The corset bustier was semi-transparent and had a heart-shaped neckline in the front and lacing back, complemented with a sparkly black cape, which came with voluminous sheer puffy long sleeves. The gown was made of sparkly tulle and satin, its skirt puffy and creating the impression that I was wearing a puffed-up princess gown. Both Sooyoung and I stayed silent as we stared at me through the mirror and I gulped, twisting and turning to check myself out from all angles. I hated to admit it, but Mr. Song’s taste was spectacular. The dress looked rather pretty on me and delicately suited my shape and form. Each time I attempted to finally step away from the mirror and stop admiring myself, I found something new to marvel at, and, thus ended up grinning from ear to ear when Sooyoung started snapping chaotic pictures of me, the both of us a giggling mess when there was a buzz at the intercom. We froze and looked at each other and then I was racing towards it. I knew it was Jongho, but it could’ve been anyone else too.

“This is Jongho, I’ll be waiting by the car.” The man’s gruff voice said through the intercom and I felt jittery and nervous all over again.

“I’ll be down in a second!”

Sooyoung already had my coat and purse in her hands, and I gave her a grateful smile as I quickly wore my high heels, not keen on making Jongho wait too long for me. Sooyoung grabbed her stuff quickly too and then we were out the door, the front door locked, and headed for the elevator in a hurry. The ride down was filled with more laughter as Sooyoung tried to distract me since I was feeling nervous, but it didn’t help much when I spotted Jongho leaning against Mr. Song’s sleek Mercedes-Benz, a sophisticated beige colour. Despite not having vast knowledge about cars, I knew that this one was a classic as I have heard my boss gloat about it to others not once or twice, but many times. The car was from around the seventies and the model’s name seemed to stick with me, it was a Pagoda. It felt illegal to touch it, let alone lean against it as casually as Jongho was doing.

“Good evening, ladies.” There was a playful glint in his eyes as he bowed almost mockingly, and I huffed as I crossed my arms in front of my chest.

“Hi, Jongho.” I greeted as Sooyoung waved at him, the two knew each other because Wooyoung liked getting drunk at team dinners and it was usually Jongho who drove him home as he rarely drank, busy running after Mr. Song’s ass.

“Well, if we don’t leave in two minutes our lovely Mingi will have us both fired, so…” He trailed off as he pushed off the car and opened the door for me with that playful glint still present in his eyes. Jongho was a well-built man, strong no doubt, but with a soft and cute face and a smile that could charm many—I had been charmed too, unfortunately, since he knew how to use it to his advantage and made me lose a significant amount of money one time when he decided he wanted to play the claw machine. He was tenacious and smart, a deadly combination for a weak-hearted person.

“Don’t worry, Jongho,” I gave him a huge grin as I walked closer, “we’re too precious to be fired, after all, who would clean up Mr. Song’s mess if we weren’t there for him?”

“That’s right,” Jongho muttered and I pressed a quick kiss to Sooyoung’s cheek before I hurriedly sat inside the fancy car, mindful not to scratch the red leather and interior of the car. It was beautiful and expensive, I didn’t understand how Mr. Song allowed anyone else to drive the car, but after all, Jongho was a trustworthy person and a good driver. Besides, I am pretty sure Jongho is the only person who Mr. Song considers to be his friend despite him being his employee, and I’m also pretty sure Mr. Song is a little bit afraid of Jongho because he never misbehaves when the other is around.

“Are you joining us at the party?” I asked curiously as Jongho sat inside too and ignited the engine to life, the rumble a low purr, a rather satisfying sound. Sooyoung grinned at us and waved as Jongho carefully pulled out of the parking lot, and we were off to S. Industries, my heart in my throat. I could only hope at least one familiar face would be at the party, someone I could talk to and hide behind if necessary.

“I’m not in the mood, to be honest,” Jongho said with his lips pursed, turning onto the main street with ease. The hardtop of the car was on as the weather didn’t allow us to ride without it, something I would’ve actually really enjoyed doing now, “But Mingi did say he wanted me there so I’ll just stick close to the exit. You know, doing bodyguard stuff.”

I chuckled and adjusted myself in the seat, admiring the interior as I carefully reached forward to touch the dashboard. I’ve seen the car numerous times but I have never come as close to it as I was right now, “Are you nervous?”

I gulped and looked at Jongho as he sped through the yellow light, “Is it that obvious? I’m shitting my pants, I’m not going to lie.”

Jongho laughed, sounding cute and warm, and his lips stayed in their usual gummy smile, “You should relax, you’re not supposed to do anything, so really, it’s just a good opportunity to get to know more people. Maybe someone steals you from Mr. Song and then there’ll be a big scandal that I’ll happily enjoy from the sidelines.”

“I know I have no actual reason to be nervous, but I’ve never been to an event like this one before and I just…I don’t know, actually.” I sighed and looked out the window as Jongho turned onto the street where the company was situated at, traffic was scarce tonight, “I’m not particularly fond of people like Mr. Song.”

“Mingi especially.” Jongho muttered with a cackle and gave me an encouraging smile as we stopped at the gates of the underground parking lot of the company, “You’ll see you’ll find likeable people tonight, maybe some new friends even. At least I know Mr. Park is a very humble and generous man, if you stir up a conversation with him, he’ll be more than happy to indulge.”

“Wait,” Suddenly I realized something I hadn’t thought about before, “Wooyoung will be here too, right?”

We were let in as the gate opened and Jongho waved at the guard as we drove inside the parking lot, “Yeah, unfortunately. Who do you think will drive his drunk ass home tonight? Me, and I don’t want to, but I’m a good friend.”

“I thought you weren’t friends.” They were, but Jongho denied it every chance it was brought up since he was embarrassed by Wooyoung’s personality. Jongho grumbled something and I chuckled as he parked the car rather skilfully.

“He said he won’t take me to the Bahamas if I keep denying that we’re friends, so…” He gave me a look which made me laugh, and we both got out of the car once it was parked with the engine killed. But for the rest of the way, we remained silent, especially since the elevator was filled with people dressed in fancy outfits as they were headed up to the fifteenth floor, which totally had a ballroom sort of thing going on. I didn’t want to wonder much about why such a room existed in a company like Song Mingi’s, but I supposed he’d flaunt his wealth any time he could.

The hallway was decorated with golden accents and dimly lit, a red carpet laid out, guiding you towards the entrance of the ballroom. I followed the others as I stuck to Jongho’s side, and he gave me a grin as we reached the entrance, bodyguards stopping everyone to check their invites and if their names were on the list. It was a pretty exclusive party, people couldn’t just sneak in if they wanted to. It was mainly to avoid a bunch of press people and journalists who liked to stick their noses where they didn’t belong to. I froze for a second when I noticed the security guard who helped me, sort of, by the door as recognition passed his face when he spotted me. I tried to look normal as I nodded towards him and thankfully, he was distracted by Jongho when he went over to greet his colleagues. He wished me luck and then I was off, greeted by Chanyeol when he told the bodyguard to let me through since I was Mr. Song’s secretary (assistant).

The inside of the ballroom was better lit than the hallway, it was decorated with anything golden, and there was a bar filled with people ordering drinks. Orchestra music was playing at a pleasant volume so that people could converse but also dance if they so wished to do, and I found myself not knowing what to do now. I stood awkwardly in the doorway and then decided to move towards my left, keeping close to the wall as waiters walked around with trays, carrying champagne and even some snacks and fruits. Everyone was dressed to the nines and most women wore festive gowns or cocktail dresses and jewellery that glimmered in the lightning subtly, surely worth more than everything I owned as they were mostly diamonds, no doubt. I felt out of place as I slipped out of my coat and looked around, trying to find a hanger or anything. There was none and I jumped when a waiter suddenly stood in front of me with a bored look on his face.

“Champagne?” I wanted to refuse but one quick glance around me told me that everyone had a glass in their hands, so I accepted it, fumbling with my coat and purse.

“Do you know where I can put these down?” I motioned towards my belongings and the waiter sighed before he extended his arm.

“There’s a wardrobe, I’ll take it there.” And then he went to walk off, but paused, “Do you perhaps work for Mr. Song?”

“I do.” Suddenly I felt extra self-conscious, was it that obvious that I didn’t belong here?

“Oh, good.” The waiter seemed to perk up a bit, even smiling a little, “You’re Miss Jang, his secretary?”

“Uh, secretary assistant.” I corrected him, and he just waved it off.

“Yeah, good, I’ll put your stuff with Mr. Song—”

“Don’t do that!” I almost but exclaimed, and quickly blushed when a woman who walked by us gave me a look, “I mean, please, I can hold onto it or something—”

“These are Mr. Song’s orders, so I can’t really go against it.” Then he bowed his head a bit and walked off before I could object some more, leaving me with wide eyes. Why would Song Mingi bother with telling the waiters to take my belongings to where his were? It made no sense, but perhaps that’s the treatment I got for being here in Mrs. Bae’s place. I cradled the champagne glass in my hands and looked around, looking for Wooyoung even if he was annoying and embarrassing. Although I doubted Mr. Song would’ve let him come if he didn’t know how to behave in a place like this. But as my eyes surveyed the crowd, instead of finding my best friend’s boyfriend, I found my boss. Unsurprisingly, he was at the bar, leaning against it as he was chatting to some pretty woman who was all smiles and laughed at almost everything Mr. Song said. I couldn’t imagine anything my boss ever said would be funny, but he most definitely acted differently towards people who weren’t his employees. I mean, he was well-known for sleeping with women left and right, so it wouldn’t surprise me if he was on the hunt tonight despite the gravity of this event.

He held a glass in his hands, and I wasn’t surprised to see a ring on almost every finger of his, the one with a big ruby in it rather eye-catching. Being himself, Mr. Song certainly dressed to impress, and as I took in his attire, I realized with alarm that indeed there was a dress code to this event and it wasn’t black. Every woman in the room wore different shades of golden or beige, all light and sparkly at times, meanwhile the men wore mostly beige or a darker shade of cream. Eyes snapping back to Mr. Song, I realized it was quite literally just the two of us wearing black outfits, and suddenly I felt really stupid and embarrassed as I stuck out like a sore thumb in the crowd. I now understood why everyone was giving me looks once they passed by me, and I had to take several deep breaths to stop myself from blowing up or crying, I couldn’t decide which one just yet.

Mr. Song’s blazer was cropped and put accent onto his shoulders, and perhaps it was glitterier than my dress and all the other ones combined. His pants seemed to be high-waisted and loose as they came down past his ankles, and as he angled his body to face the front of the room, my eyes widened when I spotted him wearing nothing but a simple vest underneath his blaze. It came up to his pecks and it was buttoned up all the way, stopping just above the hem of his dress pants. Heavy silver chains hung around his neck, complementing the jewellery on his fingers and bringing out his tan complex more. I didn’t understand why I had to be wearing black as well, surely, he didn’t want anyone else stealing the spotlight from him, yet here I was, merely a secretary assistant with our outfits assorted even down to their sparklines. I hated it, I concluded that it made me want to cry and I swiftly downed my champagne in one go, jaw clenching and eyes glaring as I turned my head away, unable to look at my asshole of a boss anymore.

I tried to hunt down another waiter with a tray to place my empty glass onto, but they were nowhere to be seen, so I just stormed towards the exit with the glass still in my hands. People were still coming in and it proved to be a bit hard to leave the room as I had to wait until everyone came inside, and unfortunately, Chanyeol had spotted me.

“Y/N,” He said with a small smile as he checked a man’s invitation, “You look gorgeous, that dress looks amazing on you. It’s almost as if it was tailored for you.”

I gulped to force down the lump in my throat and tried to smile as the man he allowed inside gave me a long look, a smirk appearing on his lips, “Thank you, do you think I could slip out for a second?”

“Bathroom break?” Chanyeol chuckled, and meanwhile I usually appreciated how carefree he was, I wasn’t in the mood to chit-chat around with him. I nodded wordlessly and he asked a lady to step aside for a second so that I could leave. I was glad that Jongho was nowhere to be seen as I stormed down the hallway, aimlessly as I had never been on this floor before and had no idea where the bathroom even was. The music grew to just a mere hum as I rounded a corner and found myself standing in a lobby, huge doors to my left and right. It was the restrooms and I headed for the emerald-coloured couch in the middle of the room. It was a semi-circle and had its back to the other couch and I plopped down on it, not minding my dress as I slouched, placing the glass on the floor next to my leg. I sighed loudly and closed my eyes, trying to calm my nerves since all I wanted to do was walk up to my boss and demand an explanation as to why he bought me a black dress. Was he mocking me? Was he making fun of me? Did he enjoy berating his hard-working employees? Was this some sort of stupid powerplay? I was furious and I was ready to go on a full whispered rant when the doors to the men’s restroom slammed shut loudly. I had missed the footsteps, but it seemed like whoever entered hadn’t noticed me either.

I knew hiding out here wasn’t smart on my part as Mr. Song would certainly want to see me, so I took a deep breath and told myself that I could call him out later or at the office on Monday, if not tonight. I couldn’t let him get under my skin again, I had to be better than that. Perhaps I should find Wooyoung and grab a drink with him, let him introduce me to some smart people and watch where the night takes us. Grabbing the glass, I rose and fixed my dress, checking myself out in the big mirror to make sure I looked fine. My cheeks were a bit rosy from my sudden anger, but if I plastered on my fake smile, nobody could tell I wasn’t feeling so fine. I took off and rounded the corner just as the men’s restroom door opened again, slamming shut irritatingly. Already annoyed, I stopped and intended to call out whoever was keen on slamming doors, but the hushed voices made me halt.

“She’s gone, bring out the weapons.”

“Are you sure we shouldn’t wait for longer?”

“All the important ones are already here, I don’t want more collateral victims than necessary.”

“Fine, boss.”

My eyebrows furrowed as I remained rooted to my spot, not having a good feeling at all about this. Who were these people and why were they talking about weapons and victims? I thought this was a highly secured event, so these two must’ve been on the list or something. Otherwise, it made no sense to how they got in.

“That Song prick will pay tonight for fucking us over, Sehun, mark my words.”

“When do you want to attack?”

“When he gets up on the podium for his fucking speech.”

“And his secretary?”

My heart stilled as my eyebrows furrowed, and I made sure to stay out of view as I listened attentively, disregarding my red lipstick as I had started chewing on my bottom lip.

“It’s not that old hag anymore, pity, the new one is rather gorgeous, isn’t she?”

“Do you want me to take her hostage, sir?”

“Yeah, kill her if Song isn’t cooperating.”

I gasped and pressed my hands against my mouth, hoping I wasn’t loud, my heart beating fast as my hands started shaking. My ears rang for a second and I swore my head became hazy, but I had to focus. I had to stop this before anything would happen. I wasn’t dying, and nobody was getting hurt tonight.

I knew exactly who to tell.

With a racing heart and unstable legs, I hurried down the hallway, grateful for the red carpet as my heels made no sound. I ignored everyone as I very rudely pushed people out of my way, ignoring Chanyeol’s smile and questions as I snapped at him to get out of my way. Jongho was back and his eyebrows furrowed when he saw my disposition, but I had no time to speak to anyone but Song Mingi—Iron Man. I felt judging eyes on me as I tried to keep my breaths laboured, eyes frantically searching the crowd for my boss, my heart beating even faster. As his secretary, I have read through the schedule and I knew Mr. Song’s speech was soon, I really couldn’t waste even one more second. Taking a breath to calm my nerves and think clearly, my eyes fell towards the bar and that’s where I spotted my boss. Without thinking, I marched over to him—and the woman he was with—pushing people out of my way without apologizing, but I’m sure they’d understand if they knew what was soon to occur.

“Mr. Song!” I called out with an edge before even reaching my boss, but he didn’t react as he probably didn’t even hear me, too busy leaning towards the woman he was talking with as he touched her bare shoulder, trailing his fingers down her skin. My eyebrows furrowed as I came to a stop rather close to them, but neither seemed to notice me just yet, “Mr. Song.”

At the insistency in my tone, my boss cast a glance my way and I watched as his grin turned forced, “I’m busy Miss Jang, find me after the speech—”

“I cannot do that, sir, I need to speak to you in private.” When the woman gave me a dirty look, I felt my jaw clenching, “Right now.”

Mr. Song seemed just as displeased by my rude interruption as the lady—but she seemed to be more pressed about my presence as she leaned back against the bar and took me in from head to toe—but when I pushed my trembling hands behind my back and looked at my boss with pleading eyes, he seemed to realize something was wrong, so very wrong, “Please, Mr. Song, we need to talk.”

He cleared his throat and adjusted his sparkly blazer as he gave the woman a dashing smile, grabbing her hand to press a faint kiss against her knuckles, “Don’t get too bored in my absence, Miss Han, I’ll be right back.”

She chuckled and nodded her head, then threw me another dirty glare, and then Mr. Song was finally looking at me with questioning eyes and without thinking, I grabbed his wrist and took off, pulling him after myself urgently. I apologized to people this time as we walked through the crowd, headed for the exit, and Jongho tried to stop us when he noticed us, but Mr. Song raised his hand to stop him. I was too scared to walk towards the restrooms as I didn’t know whether the men were still there, so instead, I guided us towards the elevator.

“What is your problem?” Mr. Song’s tone was sharp as he snapped once I stopped walking and I whirled around, his eyes were narrowed as they sharply looked down at me.

“Someone wants to hurt you.” I rushed out and before Mr. Song could interrupt me, I continued, “I needed a moment so I went to the restroom and after leaving, I heard two men talking and they were saying they will make you pay and—they have weapons, Mr. Song, they—they said they’ll kill me if you don’t cooperate with them—”

“This isn’t a prank or a joke, right?” Mr. Song asked as he stepped closer, and I quickly shook my head, grip around his wrist tightening.

“I wouldn’t joke about something like this!” I hissed as Mr. Song’s eyebrows furrowed and worry coated his expression, “They’ll attack before your speech.”

Mr. Song averted his eyes as they seemed to cloud over with even more worry and stress and then suddenly, he stepped closer, eyes boring into mine, fierce and burning with determination, “Do you know their names?”

“One is called Sehun.” I barely finished my sentence when Mr. Song tsked and looked at the ceiling, looking irked as I finally released his wrist, a little embarrassed for having held onto it for so long. Mr. Song licked his lips and then glanced down at me, opening his mouth to speak when there was laughter behind us and chatter. I barely blinked when I felt myself shoved backwards as my back collided with the wall, Mr. Song’s tall form looming over me as he caged me in between himself and the wall. My eyes widened in surprise and out of reflex, I tried to push him away. I grabbed his waist and attempted to wrestle myself out of the hold, but Mr. Song only pushed his body against mine as the laughter and chatter came closer.

“What are you doing?!” I whisper-shouted as I looked up at him with a glare, blood boiling that he wasn’t taking the situation seriously again and was trying to do—whatever with me.

“I’m sorry, Miss Jang, but everyone saw us walk outside together and, well, I have a reputation to uphold, you know?” He smirked and lowered his head as I sputtered, trying to push him away once again, “I will let you go when they have walked past us, stop being so fussy.”

“I wouldn’t be so fussy if you weren’t pinning me against a wall against my own will, sir, kindly fuck off.” I snapped and Mr. Song dared to chuckle, “There’s lives on your hands and you’re here with me instead, play-pretending that something that isn’t happening is happening, putting everyone’s life at risk—”

“Relax a little, will you?” Mr. Song groaned and poked my forehead with a finger, making me flinch away, “They won’t attack until I give my speech, so, we’re good. I could just not say that speech the whole night and everyone would be okay—”

“No, because they want revenge and they will get it, no matter what.” The people enjoying themselves had almost reached us now, Mr. Song cradled my jaw with one hand and tilted my head up, making my heart race as I gulped, “What we all need right now is a superhero to save the day, sir, we need Iron Man.”

“I thought Spiderman was the one who saved you.” Mr. Song’s voice dropped low as his eyes searched my face and I felt breathless for a second, his cologne strong and wrapping around us, “But you’re asking for Iron Man now? Don’t you hate me? Wouldn’t you rather have someone else save the day—”

“I don’t give a fuck who saves the day, Mr. Song, as long as they stop those two men, alright?” My jaw clenched and my eyes threatened to flutter closed as Mr. Song’s head lowered and his lips came close to mine, “I know you’ve done good things before, just—I don’t want to die.”

“I know.” Mr. Song whispered and suddenly the people went quiet as they had spotted us, “I don’t want you to die either.”

Mr. Song and I stared into each other’s eyes as I let his words sink in, trying to desperately ignore my quickening heartbeat and the way my muscles seemed to tense when he smiled softly, the hand holding my jaw coming to play with the front strands of my hair before he pushed them behind my ear. The people in the hallway suddenly giggled and muttered something about Mr. Song clearly enjoying himself, and then they rushed off while looking at us curiously. I exhaled once they were gone from sight and thought Mr. Song would release me, but his eyebrows were furrowed and he looked conflicted. I raised my eyebrows at him and slightly tried to push him away again, but he barely took a step back.

“I need you to go back to the ballroom and tell Jongho that there’s been a change to our plans, then tell Chanyeol to announce that my speech will be soon starting, alright?” His tone was soft and almost worried as I nodded, finally able to relax as Mr. Song completely released me and stepped away, his warmth disappearing with him. I gulped and fixed my hair, pulling the strands back to frame my face once again, failing to notice that Mr. Song watched me closely with a small gulp, “You’re gorgeous tonight, Miss Jang.”

My head snapped up and I looked at Mr. Song with an alarmed expression, but with a nod of his head he was gone and I knew what I had to do next. So, heeding his words, I ran back to the ballroom and called Jongho aside to tell him there’s been a change to their plans, watching as realization crossed his features. He squared his shoulders as his expression became schooled and cold, different from the man I knew. He thanked me and told me to stay safe before he was gone too, and then I knew that Jongho also knew who Song Mingi was. Next, I told Chanyeol to gather everyone and announce that Mr. Song would be giving his speech soon, and then I walked closer to the exit, eyes surveying the crowd and trying to figure out who the two men were. Nobody looked suspicious, and I felt more and more nervous as time went by and the room filled up with even more people. Everyone was eager to see and hear my boss, and the room was filled with loud chatter as the music had stopped playing. I jumped when the doors were closed and Jongho stood in front of them, hands intertwined in front of him and eyes steely as he looked around, searching.

The lights flickered and everyone looked at each other, surprised and a little confused, and then the lights went out completely. I gasped as the chatter died down at once, my breaths quick as my muscles tensed, waiting for the worst. I could tell everyone thought this was a trick Mr. Song came up with, but I knew just in how great danger we were. But then, before I could panic more and even start crying, the lights were back on and nothing changed. The stage was still empty and nobody had moved from their spots, I felt confused as Jongho and I shared a glance. Perhaps it was a malfunction or something, but that was unexpected and almost impossible as the building had backup generators that kicked in as soon as the electricity went out. Then, somebody cleared their throat loudly.

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen.” People whirled around as we looked towards where the modified voice came from, a red iron costumed man stood behind the bar, polishing a glass. I could feel everyone’s confusion as they gaped at Iron Man, some even looked excited, and I caught Jongho’s amused smile before I looked back at Mr. Song, “I heard you’re waiting for Song Mingi’s speech, he’s a really good friend of mine, did you know that? We’re practically like twins, that’s how close we are.”

People laughed and some even got their phones out to snap pictures as Iron Man placed both the rag and glass onto the bar, resting his elbows on it as he leaned forward, chin in his palms, “Before I let my dear twin proceed with his speech, I heard there are people here who had planned a surprise for all of us. Kim Junmyeon, are you in the room with us?”

The crowd went silent again and looked around, my eyebrows furrowed as I tried to see if anyone reacted weirdly, but I couldn’t tell as there were many people in there. Iron Man chuckled and then stood up straight, trailing an iron finger against the counter, “I heard you brought your little brother too, Oh Sehun, so where are you two hiding?”

The lights went out and I yelped when I felt someone touch my wrist, bony fingers curling around my skin as I started yanking my arm free. Then, two spotlights suddenly snapped on and I whipped my head to my left frantically, ready to punch my captor and free myself and was rather glad to see Wooyoung. His eyes were big and he looked confused and borderline scared too, “I hate the dark, what the fuck is happening?”

“Are you drunk?” I whispered as I looked towards the spotlights, two men were illuminated. One stood in the middle of the crowd, which now had made way and stepped away as if sensing danger, and the other man was rather close to the exit, Jongho’s fierce glare was fixed onto the man.

“No, but I wish I was.” Wooyoung whispered, moving closer until his side was pressing into mine, “Are we going to die?”

“We shouldn’t,” Then I looked towards Iron Man who slowly walked around the bar, somehow managing to look menacing as the two men put on the spot looked towards each other, expressions tense and eyes glaring, “Do you trust Iron Man?”

“Fuck yes,” Wooyoung whispered as his grip tightened around my wrist, “remember that bad accident I was involved in? He’s the guy that saved me before the engine exploded, I owe him my life.”

I looked at Wooyoung with surprise as his eyes remained on Iron Man, slightly shaking but filled with admiration. Wooyoung rarely spoke of his accident, and even when he did, he never mentioned how he got out of the car, saying something about it being too traumatic to be spoken of. I gulped and grabbed his hand, squeezing it, “We’re not dying then.”

“We better not, I wanted to propose to Sooyoung next week.” But before I could react to Wooyoung’s words, everyone gasped as the two men drew guns, and my eyes widened as Wooyoung suddenly stepped in front of me, shielding me with his body. My heart swelled and I gripped the back of his shirt as I looked at Jongho who was moving towards the one that stood close to him.

“Fuck off, you arrogant prick!” The man in the middle of the crowd exclaimed, enraged as he pointed his gun towards my boss, “What’s the meaning of this? Where’s Song Mingi?!”

Iron Man chuckled and as he started walking towards the man, the crowd parted for him as everyone ducked down in fear, “He’s busy fucking his secretary assistant.”

“Fuck off.” I hissed as my glare bore into the side of Iron Man’s iron mask, and as if sensing my rage, the superhero’s head turned just briefly, but I knew Mr. Song was looking at me. Wooyoung cackled in front of me, as if the situation was actually funny, but didn’t question it despite it being about me. Did Wooyoung know too, perhaps, that our boss was the superhero?

“Well, Mr. Kim, now that the man you’re searching for isn’t here, won’t you lower your weapons?” Iron Man turned his head, “You too, Mr. Oh.”

A man yelped as the one closer to the door suddenly sprung forward and grabbed him, holding his gun against the man’s head, a seething expression on his face, “I’ll blow his brains out if you don’t get Song Mingi in here, right now.”

But my boss didn’t react as Jongho slowly crept towards the pair, ready to fight off the man holding the weapon. Everyone screamed as a warning shot went off, the man in the middle had his gun pointed towards the ceiling before he pointed it at Iron Man again. There was a tsk and then Iron Man’s hand was pointed towards the criminal, something opening as blue light simmered in its palm, just like when he was supposed to save me.

“You’re being rude and you’re also destroying the décor.” Iron Man snapped and then walked just a bit closer, “You have five seconds to lower your weapons and it won’t be too painful this way.”

“Fuck you.” The two men spat in unison, and suddenly, the ceiling opened up and large weapons descended, pointed straight at the criminals' heads. They froze as the crowd went dead silent once again, everyone scared to make the wrong move as if they’d detonate the weapons. Two red dots sat on the criminals' foreheads, and I saw the one in the middle of the crowd slightly falter, fire dying out in his eyes.

“Still want to fuck me?” Iron Man chuckled, lowering his arm, “I only have to press one button and then both of you will be dead.”

I gulped and felt thankful for having Wooyoung with me as his presence brought comfort despite his shaking frame and constant silent curses, eyes darting between Iron Man and Jongho as the driver/bodyguard almost reached the criminal. Wooyoung looked like he wanted to help, but I grabbed his arm and halted him into place, knowing that I’d never forgive myself if anything happened to him.

“Give us Song Mingi.

“No.”

And then the man in the crowd fired shots at Iron Man foolishly, emptying his ammunition as Jongho tackled the other one to the ground, getting on top of him to pin him down as the doors slammed open and police officers filled in to take the two attackers hostage. Iron Man casually grabbed the criminal’s gun and snapped it into two before he headbutted him, the man instantly falling to the ground unconscious. Wooyoung seemed to relax as people tried to flee the place, scared and confused, but the police asked everyone to remain calm as the threat had been neutralized. The Captain greeted Iron Man before they collected the unconscious man off the floor, the other one was trashing around and screaming as they had him handcuffed and held down by five officers and Jongho. Despite it being over, I found it hard to breathe as my body continued to shake, and I had to bite my bottom lip to stop myself from crying. The incident at the metro was too fresh in my mind, and I couldn’t help but wonder what would’ve happened if I hadn’t eavesdropped on the two men. Wooyoung, sensing my panic, turned and pulled me into a warm embrace, rubbing my back up and down as he muttered reassuring words, cracking jokes that weren’t helping at the moment. I did appreciate them, though.

Once the police took the two criminals and Iron Man mysteriously disappeared and Song Mingi showed up to do damage control, the crowd seemed to remain tense, and thus the party was postponed. Not everyone left, some decided to stay behind and drink and dance around, but as it neared midnight, few people remained. The event was ruined, but surprisingly, Mr. Song didn’t look too disappointed by it. After talking to the police and calming the crowd down and apologizing profusely, he sauntered over to the bar and downed a shot of tequila before beckoning Jongho over to drink some whiskey. The younger refused his offer but remained by his side, soon joined by a squeamish Wooyoung who was reluctant to leave me on my own. I assured him that I would be fine and needed the breather as I headed towards the huge windows to gaze outside. The city lights were pretty from the fifteenth floor, and I released a long sigh as I felt exhausted and ready to leave. I didn’t want to stay behind, but somehow both Wooyoung and Chanyeol managed to convince me as they offered me another glass of champagne to loosen up. Most of the employees stayed behind, eager to speak to their boss as it was a rare occasion if you didn’t work directly with him.

Distracted by the soft music and my own thoughts as I watched people walk down the street from time to time, I wasn’t aware that Mr. Song had approached me. He stood next to me, looking down at the city too, lips pursed as he spoke up quietly, “You did really well, Miss Jang, thank you.”

My eyes rounded as I turned my head to look at my boss, having never heard him thank anyone before so sincerely. It felt nice, it made my body jittery and my heart race a bit, “Would you like to dance?”

That surprised me as well as I froze, looking at my boss questioningly. Did he really want to share a dance with me? Although there weren’t many people who could see us, rumours spread quickly at our company—especially if they were about Song Mingi and his women.

“Uhm, alright,” I muttered and almost flinched when Mr. Song took my hand to walk us towards the dance floor. I gulped and stepped closer when we faced each other, Mr. Song’s free hand went to my lower back as he pressed our bodies together, and I gripped his shoulder as he, for some weird reason, intertwined our other hands. Our closeness felt a bit too much, too intimate, but I said nothing as it didn’t feel like he meant to do anything inappropriate. During this one week of working with him, I realized he sought out physical contact more often than not and stood rather close whenever he spoke to someone.

“Are you alright?” I chanced a glance at Mr. Song, but he wasn’t looking at me. I licked my lips and tried not to feel awkward as I nodded, suddenly reminded of when he comforted me while I didn’t know Iron Man’s identity.

“Yes, you—you did a good job tonight, sir, thank you.” My voice was small and I took a deep breath, feeling awfully vulnerable all of a sudden, “I wasn’t ready to be taken hostage again, I was scared.”

“I’ll keep you safe, Miss Jang, just don’t leave my sight.” Perhaps Mr. Song didn’t mean to say that as he gasped quietly right after before he cleared his throat and tapped my lower back, “Iron Man saves people too, you know? Not just Spiderman.”

“Are you really jealous over that?” I decided that I didn’t want us to be too vulnerable with each other, I still didn’t like my boss, so I tried to change the tone of the conversation. Mr. Song scoffed and moved us around the few dancing couples, he was rather good at dancing, fluid and gentle.

“I’m not the jealous type, besides, why would I be jealous of somebody like Yun—” The cut-off was way too abrupt and my ears perked up, eyes widening comically as I pulled my head back to look at Mr. Song’s face. He looked flabbergasted by his own words and I broke into giggles, averting my eyes when Mr. Song’s narrowed at me.

“I don’t think I was supposed to know the other superhero’s identity,” I said amused, and Mr. Song groaned as he gripped my hand just a bit tighter, as if warning me to stay silent. Well, at least now it made sense what I saw through the CCTV, that thing Yunho and Mr. Song were fixing had probably something to do with Spiderman’s web. So, it seems Jeong Yunho is Spiderman, what a small world.

“Just don’t tell anyone, specifically him, he’ll get excited and he’ll never shut up about himself—”

“Oh, sounds like he had a good mentor.” I mocked with a raise of my eyebrow and Mr. Song glared at me, “But I won’t tell anyone. Isn’t it even more dangerous for him, he’s still a teenager.”

“Do you worry about me as well, Miss Jang?”

“No.”

“That’s a pity, maybe you should.”

“You’re quite alright inside that iron suit.”

“Nothing is indestructible.”

“Then you’ll have to be more careful.”

“Yeah, I’ll have to be more careful now.” Our eyes bore into each other’s, and I felt my cheeks warm up as Mr. Song’s warm eyes were intense and curious, glinting with a seriousness that was rare to see on him. But it didn’t last for long as he looked away and twisted me around abruptly, making me gasp as I had to cling onto him before I lost my balance, “Mrs. Bae will be back in a week, think you can handle me for a little while longer?”

“I don’t think I can,” I snorted, realizing that I was almost hugging my boss with the arm that was supposed to only hold onto his shoulder, “But I don’t have a choice.”

“You’re smart,” Mr. Song chuckled and he lowered his head to be able to look me in the eyes directly, “And quite useful. You tried to blackmail me, you move fast, and stick your nose into everything, these aren’t necessarily good attributes, but they could be of use to me.”

My eyebrows furrowed as a wide smirk made its way onto Mr. Song’s lips, eyes twinkling with mischief, “What do you mean?”

“Are you trained in any martial arts?” I shook my head and Mr. Song pursed his lips, seemingly in thought, “Well, that’s easily changeable. Are you good with tech?”

I shook my head again and Mr. Song seemed disappointed, “Well, that’s not an issue, I have Yungi—”

“Who?” I asked confused as Mr. Song grinned.

“The artificial intelligence I designed to help me, he’s rather smart and a good friend when a man’s lonely.” That was perhaps impressive, but I didn’t say that to Mr. Song, he didn’t have to hear it from me too, “Well, anyways, I can find something useful for you to do.”

“Am I not useful already?” I asked confused, just slightly offended, “I help Mrs. Bae a lot, I’m her assistant after all, and by helping her, I help you too, sir.”

“Mingi.”

“What?”

“Stop calling me ‘sir’ and ‘Mr. Song’, it’s getting a bit repetitive.” I gave him a funny look as Mr. Song just raised his eyebrows challengingly.

“But you’re my boss, sir.”

“Am I though?” My heart stilled as Mr. Song suddenly dipped me down, our noses touching as he looked dashing under the dim lights, blazer sparkling and eyes twinkling.

“Are you firing me right now?” I asked alarmed, both arms going around his shoulders once I was in a standing position again. Mr. Song’s strong arms went around my waist as he swayed us slowly to the rhythm of the music the live band was playing.

“Yes and no,” Mr. Song—Mingi—hummed, and then his voice rumbled quietly next to my ear, “You’ll be working less for Song Mingi and more for Iron Man.”

My eyes widened as my heart raced now, skin tingling at the weird proposition, Mingi continued to explain, “Mrs. Bae will be retiring soon and I already have the person who will replace her, and surprisingly, I quite like you, Y/N. I want you to help me out—”

“But how?” I couldn’t find anything with which I would be more useful to Mingi. He chuckled, and I felt him play with the strands that had fallen out of my low bun.

“Iron Man needs a secretary too.”

“And if I refuse?” I knew I couldn’t, there were too many factors at stake right now.

“Jongho will kidnap you tonight.” That sounded terrifying, “I can’t let you go, you know too much. But I assume you already know that, right?”

“I do, Mingi, but if you’re subjecting me to more hours spent with you—which will be my own personal hell—I expect the paycheck to be higher too, you know?” Mingi giggled, the sound deep and surprising, and I found myself smiling.

“I’ll give you anything you want, Y/N, just stay by my side.” His voice was low and sincere and I gulped, feeling butterflies in my stomach.

“Why?”

“Because.”

“Does Mrs. Bae know who you are?”

“She’s my godmother, of course, she knows.”

I chuckled, not having expected that, “That explains a lot, actually.”

“She’s a menace,” Mingi grumbled and I chuckled again.

“And so are you.” I watched another couple join the dance floor, and suddenly remembered something, “You said there was a dress code, so why is it that only the two of us are wearing black?”

“Because there’s a dress code.”

“And it’s gold, not black.”

“Exactly.”

“Mingi.”

“I’m the host, I can dress however I want.”

“And me?”

“Shut up, I love this song.”

The song, in fact, was just another classical piece that I was convinced Mingi hadn’t heard before in his life, but I remained silent and decided to bring up this subject again sometime soon. Just what was Iron Man’s secretary supposed to do?

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xxbimbobunnyxx · 1 year

Text

Beer and Bunny’s

(Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader)

Summary: Eddie can’t seem to get himself to make a move on the new bartender at the hideout he has a crush on, but one night you decide to take matters into your own hands and he sees something that he just can’t resist. Wk:4.5K

Warnings: 18+MINDI Smut (unprotected P in V), Oral (M & F), Eddie being a lil pervy but reader is into it, kind of inexperienced!Eddie (he’s really nervous and has a lot of self doubt. My head canon for this Eddie is that he’s been with a few girls but none of them were interested in more than a one night stand), no use of Y/N so pet names, and I think that’s it? The smut is kinda soft n sweet, nothing too crazy. Lmk if I missed any!!

A/N: So I was running errands wearing my black mini skirt and my pink bunny panties the other day and this idea came to me. It’s super self indulgent tbh, but in my mind Eddie would lose his shit over something like this and I’ll die on that hill. 🫡 Also I usually read through my shit obsessively but I only read through this once so if you see mistakes, no you didn’t. (Not really tho pls tell me so I can fix them bc typos make me crazy) My Masterlist

Eddie was in a trance, playing his guitar on autopilot as he watched you bus tables, make drinks, and occasionally indulge a customer’s flirting for extra tips. Not that you needed to, that dress and your sweet smile was enough to have any man dumping his wallet out and emptying his bank account for you. Or maybe that was just him.

He knew it wasn’t though, because even though his band was up there putting their hearts into playing for 15 people tops, most of their eyes followed you. Granted it was mostly drunk middle aged men besides Ruth, a 60 something year old woman who was always sitting in the same stool at the bar, drinking the same cheap vodka, with her red lipstick smudged on her teeth. But still, he’s convinced even if the room was filled with a hundred women you’d still be the prettiest one there.

You started working at the hideout a few months ago when you moved to town and ever since then it was like Eddie was possessed by you. He thought about you constantly, the way those cut up band tees always fit so perfectly and how your ass always looked in those tight little skirts has him fisting his cock sometimes twice a night. He wanted to record the way your voice sounded saying his name when you’d bring him his favorite beer after a show without him even asking and play it on a loop over and over again.

But that wasn’t all, he thought about little things like holding your hand, or going to the drive-in and watching horror movies with you. Or just kissing you, god, he wanted to kiss your pretty glossed lips.

The only issue was every time you talked to him it was like his brain turned to mush and everything he had practiced to say disappeared from his mind.

Tonight was different though. After their last song when you came to bring him his beer, you gave him that sweet smile and told him how awesome they did like you always do. But then it happened. You accidentally walked backwards into one of the small amps, tipping it backwards.

“Oh my god! I'm so sorry, shit!” You apologized before turning around to pick it up and when you did Eddie felt like he was about to cum in his pants.

You were wearing this tight little faux leather mini dress with a zipper that went all the way down the middle and these sexy calf high combat boots. But when you bent over he saw you were wearing the cutest pink panties that had little bunnies printed all over them and something about that combination made him absolutely feral.

He heard a whistle behind him and when he snapped his head around to see where it came from he saw one of the guys sitting at the table closest to the stage practically licking his lips while he ogled you. He instantly felt possessive and moved closer so he was standing a few inches behind you, blocking you from everyone else.

You pulled the amp up with a huff before turning around and nearly jumping out of your skin when you realized how close he was.

“Holy shit! You scared me!” You brought your hand to your chest and laughed. “I didn’t know you were so close.”

“Y-yeah I’m sorry, when you bent over, you could uh- see your panties and um… people were looking.” He turned beet red and scratched the back of his neck awkwardly.

“Oh, you’re so sweet Eddie, protecting my modesty.” You placed a hand on his forearm and caressed it with your thumb a few times before you stepped close enough to him to whisper in his ear. “Were you looking too?” You pulled away just enough to look up into his eyes through your lashes.

“I- I mean- fuck.” He sighed and looked down at his feet. “I’m sorry… I know I shouldn’t have you were just standing right in front of me and then that guy whistled and-“

“Eddie!!” You squeezed his arm gently to get him to look at you and when he did you just wanted to kiss him. Those big brown eyes all filled with a mixture of lust and guilt were driving you crazy. “It’s okay… I want you to look.”

He’s pretty sure his brain just short circuited, you want him to look? What does that mean?

“I- you want me to- really?”

“Yeah.” You nodded. “You think I dress like this every time I work? Nope. Only on Tuesdays… just for you, Eds.”

“Shit. Really?” He looked at you in disbelief, he couldn’t believe the girl he’s been dreaming about is really standing here in a sexy little dress telling him that she wore it for him.

“Yeah.” You nodded and bit your lip. “I like how you look at me, it makes me… So. Wet.”

He threw his head back and groaned, he never thought you’d be so forward like this.

But he didn’t know that you had been waiting for him to make a move on you for weeks. You were tired of dancing around your obvious attraction to one another so you decided tonight you were going to take matters into your own hands.

“Shit sweetheart. You can’t just say things like that to me in public. You’re seriously going to make me bust in my pants. ”

“Well… don’t do that.” You giggled. “I know somewhere better that you can cum though…” You ran your hand down his arm and linked your hands together causing him to shiver. God, he was so responsive, you knew he liked you but apparently you didn’t know just how much.

“Fuck. Are you serious?”

“Deadly. You have a van, right? What’s the back like? Maybe you can show me.” You winked at him.

“Shit, yeah, I’d love to. But I have to put all this shit in the back and take it back to Gareth’s garage.” He looked so disappointed you just wanted to kiss his pouty pink lips.

“Hmmm… well, I live down the street. What if you drop off your stuff and meet me at my place after?” You suggested.

“GARETH! Take my van to your house, I’ll come get it later.” He turned to his drummer and threw him his keys.

“Dude. Seriously? You’re just going to leave us to pack up all this shit?”

His other band mate, who you think is named Jeff, looked between you and Eddie and put two and two together pretty quickly.

“We’ve got it man, have fun!” He wiggled his eyebrows at him before going back to packing up their equipment.

“Well, it looks like I’m all yours.” Eddie smiled at you nervously. God, he was just too cute.

“Looks like it, cutie. I’m off now, just gotta clock out. I usually walk so if you just wanna wait outside I’ll be right there.” You got on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek before jumping off the stage and walking toward the back of the bar, making sure to swing your hips extra for him.

•

The walk back to your apartment was filled with easy conversation and stolen glances, hands grazing but not quite grasping onto each other. The air heavy with the tension of what was to come.

“This is me!” You gesture towards the front door of your apartment before unlocking it and letting him inside.

Eddie looked around as you turned on some lights, he saw some cool posters on the walls and a large bookshelf in the corner. But before he could take in too much of your world you walked over to him and put your arms around his neck.

“Hi.” You smiled at him with a glint in your eye.

“Hey.” He returned your smile with a crooked smirk, bringing his hands to rest on your hips.

You brought one of your hands to his jaw, cupping it and running your thumb along his cheek. “I really really want to kiss you right now.”

He didn’t respond, instead he pulled you closer by the hips and smashed his lips against yours. His lips felt just as you imagined, pillowy soft and just the tiniest bit chapped. He tasted like the beer you gave him, the cigarette he smoked on the walk, and something that was just him. You moaned into the kiss, shoving your hands into his hair, tugging slightly. He groaned when you licked along his bottom lip, allowing you access. He kissed you until your knees were weak and you were both breathless.

“You are so beautiful. Fuck. I can’t believe I’m here right now. This feels like a dream.” He ran his hands up your sides over your dress. “Also this fucking dress… Jesus Christ.”

“Yeah? You like it? It’s new.” You took a step back so you could do a twirl for him. “I thought about you when I bought it, you know…” you brought your finger to the o-ring at the top of the zipper and tugged on it a little.

“I thought about you dragging me to the dingy bar bathroom, shoving me up against the wall and ripping it off me.”

“Holy. Fuck. You’re naughty, huh?” He chuckled.

“Maybe, wanna find out?” You grab his hand and start walking backwards toward your bedroom, dragging him with you.

You plop down on your bed to take your boots off but before you can reach for the laces Eddie walks forward and takes your foot in his hand, unlacing your shoes for you. Once they’re loose enough he pulls them both off your feet and he’s pretty sure you aren’t real at this point.

Your socks are the same pink as your panties with cute little bunny ears at the top of the ankles. Your socks match your panties.

“Yeah, you like these too?” You wiggled your toes in front of his face and giggled while he looked at you and froze, his face turning bright red.

“Shit. Did I say that out loud?”

“Yes, you did. Wanna know if my bra matches too?” You sit back on your hands and stick your chest out.

“Hell yeah I do.” He nodded dumbly.

“Why don’t you take my dress off and find out then, pretty boy.”

He didn’t hesitate to lean down and slip his finger into the o-ring zipper of your dress, slowly beginning to slide it down. When the tops of your breasts were exposed it became more and more clear that your bra didn’t match your panties because you weren’t fucking wearing one. He pulled the zipper down until it was just under the bottom of your tits and just as he thought, no bra. Your chest was on full display, slightly glistening with sweat from the material of your dress and he wanted to lick it off.

“Fuck, look at you… prettiest tits I’ve ever seen.” Not that he’d seen many but he’s pretty sure these are the best tits in the world regardless.

“You can touch them Eddie, I want you to.” You brought your hands up to squeeze them a few times before grabbing onto your nipples and twisting.

“Hold on, I’m appreciating the art before I destroy it.” He grabbed back onto your zipper and pulled it the rest of the way down so your dress was hanging open. You let the straps fall down your arms, leaving you in just those little panties and socks and he had never seen anything sexier. Your hair was a bit disheveled but still in the style you had done it in before you left for work earlier that night and your slightly smudged dark eye make-up contrasted with the soft pink of your garments. You stand up in front of him and play with the hem of his t-shirt.

“Take this off? I wanna see you too.”

He reaches behind his back to pull his shirt over his head and god damn. He has a few tattoos littered across his pale chest, his skin mostly smooth aside from his happy trail that you wanted to nuzzle your nose into on your way down to his cock.

“Wow. You are so sexy Eds.” You run your nails down his chest and torso, hooking your fingers in his belt loops and pulling his chest against yours. The feeling of your bare nipples pressed up against his warm skin sent shivers down your spine.

“Yeah? You think so? I think you’re the sexiest girl in the world.” He blushed.

“Thank you baby, can I take these off?” You pull on his belt loops with your fingers, running your thumbs along his soft waist.

“Please”

That’s all you needed to hear before you were on your knees in front of him, undoing his pants and pulling them down with his boxers.

“Holy shit Eddie…” Your eyes widen and your mouth waters at the sight of him fully bare in front of you. “You have the prettiest cock I’ve ever seen. I can’t wait to taste it.” And you meant it, his cock was fucking huge, the hard tip leaking just for you.

He was speechless, looking down at you on your knees in front of him with wide eyes.

You lean forward and run your tongue along his slit, holding eye contact with him while you take his tip in your mouth, suckling on it a few times before taking him deep in your throat.

“Oh fuuuuckkk holy shit.” He brought his hand to the back of your head and rested it there gently, letting you set your own pace.

But it was too gentle. You didn’t want him to hold back.

“Eddie.” You pulled your mouth off him with a pop and a string of saliva. “Use me, pull my hair, fuck my mouth, don’t be shy.”

“Holy shit. Are you- are you sure?” He was panting, looking down at you like you just told him he won the lottery.

“I’m so fucking sure, so so sure. If I don’t like something I’ll tell you baby. I promise, I like it rough.”

You spit in your hand, grabbing onto his cock and tugging it a few times before looking up at him with your tongue out.

He was still looking down at you with those big shiny doe eyes and you were about to lose it if he didn’t do something. Your other hand grabs onto his, guiding it to your hair and signaling for him to grab onto it. It took his mind a second to catch up but when he did it was like something snapped in him.

He grabbed onto your hair hard and slid his cock along the length of your tongue, hitting the back of your throat.

“Close your mouth- yeah, like that.” Once your lips were wrapped around him he started to slowly rock back and forth in your mouth, testing you by going deeper with each thrust.

After a few times of him hitting the back of your throat and causing you to gag he realized you liked it. Your eyes were watery, mascara starting to run down your cheeks, drool was dripping down your chin and you were fucking moaning around him like you were getting as much pleasure out of this as he was.

He was fully fucking your mouth now, pumping his cock down your throat while he cursed and moaned, using you just like you wanted. You reach your hand up to grab onto his drool slick balls and take them in your palm causing him to jerk forward and let out the sexiest moan yet.

“FUCKING SHIT!” He used your hair to pull you off of him and you look up at him with hooded eyes, a mixture of his precum and your drool dripping down your chin and he has to physically will himself not to cum at the sight. “ If you keep that up I’m going to cum in the next thirty seconds and I was really hoping I’d get to fuck you.”

“What? You don’t wanna cum twice? We have all night, unless you’re busy then I guess you can stop.” You said dramatically, in a way that he would’ve stopped to find really cute if he wasn’t so fucking turned on right now.

He practically growled as he grabbed back onto your hair and resumed his assault on your throat. One of your hands finds its way back to his balls while the other snakes around him to grab a handful of his ass for leverage.

“F-fuck this mouth is so fuckin- You’re such a good girl fuckin droolin all over, grabbin my balls while I use your little mouth. Wearing those little fuckin panties and socks. Fuck!” His grip on your hair tightened and his hips sputtered as you felt him explode in your mouth. You swallowed around him, moaning at his taste and taking all that he gave you.

He released his hold on your hair and you pulled your mouth off of him, bringing your pointer finger to the corner of your mouth to swipe the cum that dripped there into your mouth.

“Mmmm, you taste so good Eddie.” You smiled up at him, still on your knees.

“Yeah? I bet you taste even better.”

“Wanna find out?” You smirked at him, getting to your feet and laying back on the bed.

“Fuuuuuck” Eddie groaned at the sight of you laying there for him with your legs spread, a very prominent wet patch in those fucking panties, your hands grabbing on to your tits while your fingers pinch your nipples. You looked like the only meal he wanted to eat for the rest of his life. He got on the bed on his knees between your legs, smashing his lips to yours and kissing you like his life depended on it. He slid his tongue along your bottom lip and you immediately granted him access. He tasted himself on your tongue and it caused him to moan into the kiss.

He kissed down your jaw to your neck, running his tongue along the column of your throat, stopping just behind your ear at your pulse point to suck a mark there. He kissed and licked and sucked all the way down your body, stopping to pay your nipples extra attention.

When he reached the band of your panties he licked across your waist and nipped at your hips causing you to let out breathy little moans. He placed a kiss on each of your hip bones before placing one right on the top of your mound, looking up at you with those fucking eyes.

“Mmm baby, I can smell you.” He groaned as he breathed in your scent, flicking his tongue out to run it along your cloth covered slit, adding extra pressure to your clit. He wraps his lips around your bud, swirling his tongue, and even with the small barrier between you it still makes you see stars. He licks all around your cunt, soaking your already wet underwear as he laps at it. Finally he brings his finger to your panties to move them to the side and you barely even have time to process before he’s shoving his tongue as deep as it can go inside of you. Your back arches off the bed as you cry out.

“Oh f-fuck! Yes Eddie fuck!” Your hands come down and tangle into his hair, tugging it and causing him to groan into your pussy, the vibrations going through you like a shockwave.

His tongue came back up your bud, rotating between rough and soft flicks. His pointer and ring finger circle your hole before he inserts them both fully without resistance. He pumps them in and out of you, the room filled with the sounds of your moans and wetness as he laps at you. He sucks harder on your clit just as he curls his fingers just right and you see stars. Your grip on his hair tightened as your hips rocked against his face, his name on your lips like a prayer, riding out your high until it becomes too much and you’re pushing his head off of you.

He looks up at you with your jucies still running down his chin and fucking smiles.

“Sweetest pussy I’ve ever tasted.”

“Yeah? And have you tasted a lot of pussys, Mr. Munson?” You tease.

“I mean-“ Suddenly his face flushes red and that shy nervous boy from earlier was back “Not… that many, a few. I’m no lady killer or anything I mean you know this town is I-“

You grab his face in both of your hands and place a soft kiss on his lips.

“Honey, I was just teasing, I don’t care how many girls you’ve been with, I wouldn't even care if you hadn’t been with any.”

You smiled at him sweetly, pushing his bangs off his forehead and he smiled back, kissing you deeply. There was something so comforting about you to him, he felt like he could truly be himself with you and he’s not sure he’s felt that when he was with a woman ever.

You sit up and push him down by his shoulders, swinging your leg over to straddle him. Your underwear were still pushed to the side, your slick pussy lips were nestled on either side of his shaft as you slid back and forth on him with ease.

“I can’t wait to feel this pretty cock splitting me open.” You leaned forward and slid your fingers in the band of your underwear to take them off but Eddie’s hands came down on yours, stopping you.

“Can you keep them on?” His eyes were pleading, his lips pouty.

“Anything for you, sweet boy. You really like these huh?” You giggled.

“The whole cute pink panties and socks underneath the black leather thing is really doing it for me, if you couldn’t tell.” He bit his lip, running his hands down your sides before bringing them to your tits to squeeze them roughly.

You giggled as you rose up to your knees, taking him in your hand so you could line him up with your entrance and sink down on him slowly. Once your hips were flush against his you both moaned loudly.

“Fuck, so big, filling me up so good Eds.” You rocked back and forth slightly, just adjusting to the feeling of him so deep inside you. Once you felt adjusted you rose almost all the way off his cock before slamming back down on it causing him to jerk forward and moan out your name.

“Holy fuckin shit, your pussy is suckin me in so good holy fu-fuck, ridin me s-so good baby.” And you were, you were riding him like your life depended on it. “Bouncin on my cock just like those little bunnies on your panties, is that what you are? A lil bunny?”

That snapped something inside you, it was like he said the magic words and nothing else mattered in that moment besides riding his cock, being his little bunny.

You were on your heels now, using his shoulders for leverage as you bounced on his cock. Rotating and rolling your hips, the patch of curly brown hair at his base rubbing against your clit just right.

Eddie was in Heaven, he wanted to throw his head back and shut his eyes but he couldn’t tear them off of you. You were bouncing on his cock like a rabbit in heat. A layer of sweat glistened on your body, your hair a mess, there was a bit of drool dripping down your chin and your pussy was swallowing him hole over and over again, you were so wet he could see a milky white ring of your cum on his cock. He was going to cum soon but he absolutely needed you to before he did.

His grip on your hips tightened causing your movements to halt, but before you could even protest he was fucking up into you hard and fast.

“Oh fuuuuck yes, just like that baby, right fuckin there don’t fuckin stop I’m so close.” That’s all Eddie needed to hear, he brought one of his thumbs down to your slick clit and started rubbing fast circles on it while he continued to fuck up into you at a brutal pace.

“Shit, me too bunny, I’m gonna cum. Where do you want it?”

“Inside! Inside please Eddie I want you to fill me up.”

“Oh godddd” He let out a guttural groan, throwing his head back while he pumped his cum deep inside of you. The feeling sent you over the edge, coming undone on his cock while he continued to sloppily fuck you both through your highs.

You sighed, and exhaustedly let your body slump over Eddie’s while you both tried to catch your breath.

“Holy. Shit. That was… wow” he chuckled, running his hands up and down your back.

“Yeah, it really was.” You giggled as you rolled off of him, laying on your side next to him and resting your chin on his chest to look up at him. He was so pretty, his hair disheveled, his skin flushed and decorated in your nail marks, his lips swollen with your kisses. He smiled at you sweetly, shifting around so he could hold you better, he finally got a glimpse of your room.

He didn’t even really look at it when you walked it, he obviously noticed that you had a black open canopy on your four post bed but what he didn’t notice was the cute stuffed animals that were sitting by your black silk pillows, or the cool ass horror movie posters on the walls that contrasted that completely. You noticed him looking around, his eyes filled with awe, like he was genuinely interested in your world and it warmed your heart.

“I like your room, you really have this whole creepy cute thing down to a science don’t you?” He smiled at you, cradling your jaw in his hand and you leaned into it.

“Mhm, I guess I do.” You returned his smile with your own sleepy one, yawning. “You wanna stay the night? You don’t have to if you don’t want to but-“

“I want to.” Eddie cut you off, it was his turn to reassure you. You had seemed so sure of yourself all night but when it came down to if he was going to leave or not he could tell it made you nervous, like maybe people didn’t usually want to stay with you after and that broke him a little. Who wouldn’t want to stay with you? You’re perfect. To him at least. “I want to stay, and I want to take you to breakfast in the morning. I also would really like to take you on a proper date, if that’s something you’d want to do.”

Your heart swelled, because you did want that, more than he knew.

“I’d love that actually.”

“Good.”

You both giggled and kissed each other sweetly, whispering jokes and sweet nothings into each others ears until sleep peacefully took over.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson x fem!reader #Eddie munson x reader smut #Eddie munson x fem!reader smut #Eddie munson one shot #eddie munson fanfiction

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cottoncandytomu · 1 year

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Scream For Me Doll~ Ghostface!Ellie x F!Reader

🔪🩸🔪🩸🔪🩸🔪🩸🔪🩸🔪🩸🔪🩸🔪🩸🔪🩸

ITS FINALLY FUCKING HEREEEEEE!!!

(I do not own any of the photos! Just edited them, if they are yours and you want them removed lmk!!)

GHOSTFACE!ELLIE AI AUDIOS HERE!!

Before I even start-

18+ CONTENT MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT. THIS FIC IS DEFINITELY NOT FOR MINORS!!

PLEASE READ ALL OF THE WARNINGS BEFORE YOU INDULGE IN THIS FIC!!

I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to finally finish this fic, I wanted to make it the best I could for you deranged Beauties~. I will say though, I only proofread half of it (I'll proofread the other half later - sorry I just wanted to post it already heeheheh~) so any mistakes I apologize they will be fixed in the future!

Those who asked to be tagged, if you're not interested in this fic in particular or want to be removed please lmk!! :}

WARNINGS!! PLEASE READ!!

This fic IS NOT for everyone, so please if it isn't your cup of tea...move on. Any type of hate sent my way I ask for it to not be anonymous so I can do you the justice and block you straight up. This fic contains the following: (If I forget to put a TW please let me know so I can add it on!!)

LOTS of dark themes, Filthy smut, Knife play, Blood play, Self harm (Ellie's behalf - slightly intentional - she cuts herself on the blade), Degradation (Very minor), Possessiveness, Stalking, Cursing, Deranged reader and Ellie, Mentions of murder/killing.

I think that's it - again if I missed anything please let me know. BUT that's about it folks, hope you Beauties~ enjoy!! (7839 Words)

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The sound of breathing was the only thing to be heard, Ellie’s warm breath bouncing off the flesh of the mask and back into her own. She learned very quickly how to stay quiet in situations like these. Her robe almost touched the floor, flowing right along with her movements. The sun had set hours before, a warm yellow moon took its place. Darkness cascades over the town, it was during these hours where she thrived the most. The shadows made for her stalk within the night, hiding all of her secrets in its shroud. She slowly creeps towards your window, forever thankful that your room was located on the first floor.

A lot of her nights were spent like this. Reveling in her recent victims over the weeks to then come and celebrate by watching you at your most vulnerable. You weren’t on her hit list, far from it actually. Her obsession for you was different, not one of bloodlust. Although she’d love to see the deep velvet color of your blood drip down your stomach. The tip of her blade digging into your skin, not too hard, not too soft, but enough to pierce the skin. She’d imagine rubbing her gloved thumb across the liquid, smearing it towards your hip bone. Where she’d then grip your waist, squeezing the soft flesh in her palm.

Her true bloodlust was for the imbeciles who fell into her traps, never clever enough to understand the gravity of the situation they’ve put themselves in. What genius would walk through an alleyway alone after a night of drinking? Or answer a phone call in the deep hours of the night? Only idiots would and Ellie hated the idiots of the world. The ones who deserved to be silenced by her blade, one less ignorant human on this planet. She saw the evils she committed as an act of justice. Just what society needed, one less idiot to exist. But fuck there were so many. That’s why she enjoyed you the most. You weren’t like them.

The way you were always aware of your surroundings, keeping up on the latest murders of the month. Those murders being her own work of course. She saw the way your eyes lit up at the idea of figuring out who the infamous Ghostface was. You were determined, it was cute in your own way. Ellie was always one step ahead though, she knew about your obsession with the slasher. Being your close friend was her advantage to the game. It was her fun version of tag, except for the fact that you were unaware you were playing it with her. Coming so close to touching her, the tips of your fingers stretched out wide but she was able to run and hide. You having to start all over again just when you were so close. She loved when you got close.

She’d listen to all the theories you’d come up with about who Ghostface could be. You’ve gotten close a few times, even if it was jokingly pointing the finger at her. You’d laugh off the idea of Ellie being Ghostface. It’s too hard to believe your childhood friend who you’ve spent every waking moment with to be the one. You told her she didn’t have the guts to commit such acts, too blinded by the nurturing friendship the two of you shared. As clever as you were, in which Ellie respected, you always missed that one piece.

There was a moment that she did want to tell you, to scream it off the rooftops or to stand outside your house with it written in bold letters. Hey, it’s me! I’m Ghostface! Surprised huh? But she knew that’d be too risky, as much as she trusts you with her life she doesn’t fully know if you’d be able to keep this under the wraps. Would you run away screaming, telling the first officer you see? Or is there that slight chance that you’d be alright with it…

This was another fantasy Ellie loved to live in. You overjoyed with the fact that she was the one. Running up to her and caressing her mask, blood staining the tips of your fingers just moments after her fresh kill. But she knew better. Out of all the secrets you two shared, this was the only one she kept to herself.

Little did she know you had secrets of your own. Your obsession with the slasher didn’t just end at finding out who it was. You wanted them for yourself. You wanted to trace their mask with your fingers, dragging them down the oversized robe and over to their gloved hand. You dreamt of grabbing that hand that yielded the knife. Tracing it up your chest to your delicate throat. To feel the cool blade against your skin would welcome heat that would pool between your thighs. You wanted them to use you how they wanted, bending at their will, doing whatever for them. It was a fucked up fantasy you couldn’t stop. But did you truly want it to stop?

You had to bite your tongue every time you talked to Ellie about them. She was intrigued with your theories, always ready to listen in on the newest piece of evidence you brought up. But you didn’t want to face the judgment of her words when you told her the main reason you wanted to see what was behind the mask. You imagined her reaction once. You didn’t imagine it again after that.

As she peers in she feels her chest swell up. It never felt any different for her, you always made her feel a certain way. Especially during these times. When she had the mask on, it changed her. She became a different person, she felt free. She felt like her true self. It was funny in a way, usually people put on a mask to hide their identity. But it wasn’t the same for Ellie, it brought out the worst in her. She loved every second of it.

You were fast asleep in your bed, legs in a tangled mess with your blankets. Your brows were furrowed, tightly knit together. She was curious as to what you were dreaming about. Was it a nightmare? Troubles from something that happened earlier in the day? It took everything in her to not climb in through your window, coming close to you to smoothen out the lines between your brows. Her eyes trailed down to your lips, taking in how soft they looked. How badly she wanted to glide her gloved fingers across them. Just to hook them into the side of your mouth and pull back the flesh, making you smile like the joker.

Her nightly ritual would soon come to an end. Much to her disappointment she had to go back to being the regular old Ellie. The Ellie no one suspected was Ghostface. She took in your features one last time before descending back into the night, the darkness consuming her once again.

Finding the abandoned shed by her house she shed herself of her shroud and mask, putting them away in her pack. She returned home shortly after, unlocking her door with her key. She couldn't wait to also get some rest. Unbothered to do anything else besides sleep she threw her pack across the room. Flopping into the bed it didn’t take long for her to be whisked away into lust filled dreams of your face.

The next morning came in a hurry. Ellie woke up in a sweat, the stuffy heat of the summer causing her clothes to stick to her skin. It didn’t help that she fell asleep with her jeans and t-shirt on, too tired the night before to change into something more comfortable. Her hand reaches over on her nightstand, grabbing her phone she checks the time, 11 a.m. It wouldn’t be long until you’re knocking at the door, you both had previously made plans to go out today. Finally having a matching day off you didn’t want to waste it away, even with the stupid curfew in place. Jackson didn’t have much to do but you both made it work. Your favorite spot was going deep into the forest, dangerous yes, but you enjoyed the quiet serene scene. The only sounds being what nature wanted to sing to you that day.

Today would probably be one of those forest days. The overwhelming buzz of fear that clouded the skies of Jackson was starting to be too much for you to handle. You wanted, no needed, a mini escape from it all. And who better to escape all of it with none other than your loyal friend. She understood how you felt, how sick of the people you were. She understood it all too well.

Ellie placed the phone back down on the nightstand, rubbing her eyes as she sat herself up. Letting out a sigh she climbs out of bed and goes to get ready for the day. It doesn’t take long until you’re knocking at her door. Toothbrush in her hand she rushes over to let you in. Your soft smile sends flutters to her stomach, precious as always. She sends a smile back your way, standing off to the side to let you in. You were wearing a regular t-shirt and shorts that hugged your thighs just right, she couldn’t help her eyes from checking you out. After you walk in she closes the door and returns to the bathroom to finish getting ready.

You walk over to the door to the bathroom, leaning against the frame watching her finish up. You gave her a knowing look and she knew what would come out of your mouth before you even said it.

“New evidence?” She asks.

Your grin widens, “Maybe…”

“Spill, now.”

This happened often, you’d have some new “gossip” about the killer from your unresting research. While Ellie would sit and listen, wanting to know how close you’ve gotten this time.

“So you remember a week ago when that random man was murdered?”

Ellie pretends to think about it for a second. She knew exactly who you were referring to, he was a tough one. His extreme persistence to survive almost caused him to escape her grasp, almost. She nods at you.

“Well apparently he put up a fight.”

Ellie’s face cringed, thinking back on the memory. Her expression quickly changed to a confused one, now wondering how you knew about his persistence.

“I know I know, the only reason I found this out is because of someone sharing some info on Reddit.” She waits for you to continue on. “So their Dad is a cop blah blah, shit no one cares for. But because of this he gets inside info. So get this, they found a piece of the handle to the blade Ghostface used to kill him. There’s some overly complicated science as to how they know he struggled. But the piece of it gives them a slight advantage on what weapon the killer uses. It’s honestly crazy how the knife broke. It’s said that the Buck 120 is very durable, some luck huh?”

Fuck-

Ellie knew her mistake but didn’t think it would be found so soon. By the time she realized the piece had fallen off it had already been too late. That night she was consumed with the need to see you. Specially after that persistent fuck gave her such a hard time. The stress of it all ate her alive, for once she feared she would be discovered if he was able to escape her grasp. Luckily with one hard strike she was able to finally take him down. Enraged after the fact she kept up the hard strikes at his weak skin. Definitely a blood bath, all the emotions clouded her mind. She didn’t realize that her harsh slashes may be the one thing to bring her demise. When she saw you that night all the stress seemed to disappear. She returned home that night, dread still heavy on her head. Seeing you truly did help her but soon as she left you it all came back. The next morning was when she saw the lost piece in her handle. Cursing herself at her stupidity, it was too late. She never goes back to a kill, no matter how satisfying or difficult. It was too risky, the bodies were found usually a day or so after she ended them.

Ellie snapped out of her thoughts at the sound of your voice. “Earth to Ellie, you there?”

She rinses her toothbrush and spits out the paste in her mouth to answer you.

“Yeah.” She laughs it off, “Sorry. Just thinkin’ about what you said.”

You tuck in your lips nodding slowly at her words. “It’s crazy to think about isn’t it? I’ll find out who it is eventually I know it.”

“Oh you do now?” Ellie forgets about her previous thoughts. More interested in your words instead.

“Mhm~ You know how close I’ve gotten.”

“I also know how many times it’s slipped from you too.”

“Whatever, I don’t wanna hear this shit talk when I find out who it is. I’ll prove everyone wrong.”

Sure you will. Ellie thinks, “I’m gonna talk shit regardless. You know this.”

You laugh at her words, “You’re right. Anyways hurry up, I wanna be out as long as I can before curfew.”

Ellie finishes up what she has to, not wanting to keep you waiting. As she gets her things together you go to sit on the couch, patiently waiting. After she’s done you both head for the front door. Before you can leave Ellie mutters a hold on forgetting one last thing. She goes back into her room before descending out with her guitar case in hand. You smile warmly at her. You always loved when she would bring her guitar. Playing the tunes you were never tired of hearing. You opened the door for her letting her exit with her case. Following her out you both took off to the calming forest. Letting go of all the troubles that plagued your minds.

After a few hours you and Ellie made it back to her house. The time spent in nature was a refresher you both needed. Similar reasons neither of you were aware of. The two of you didn’t eat the whole day so you both agreed to get food once settled in Ellie’s home. Not wanting the night with you to end Ellie made sure to invite you over after. She knew she’d be around you. Regardless if you stayed or not. She could either have you here or have you through your window. As much as she did enjoy the latter, she wanted to be around you as long as you’d allow. Even if it was when she was regular Ellie.

The both of you settled down onto the couch. Ellie loaded a game up to pass the time, knowing you’d enjoy watching her play. Ellie made you comfortable no matter the situation, being in her presence made you feel such a relief. A relief no one could provide in the same way that she can. You were scrolling through restaurants in the area on your phone. Stretched out sideways along the couch. Your back against the armrest and your legs over Ellie’s as she sat regularly. Her arms were resting on your lower thighs, fingers pressing away at the buttons. She told you to pick what you wanted, not caring what you’d order. She’d eat whatever you put in front of her anyway. You didn’t want anything too crazy, just something comforting and simple. Which is why you decided on pizza, can’t get more simple than that.

“I’m gonna get us some pizza.” You look up at Ellie from your phone.

Her eyes were trained on the screen, “Sounds good to me.” She shrugged slightly, replying.

“Okay I’ll get us a large and a drink as well.”

Ellie throws a quick glance in your direction, “My card should be in my pack in the room.”

“I can just buy it Ellie…”

“Fuck no.” When she looks back at you, this time she doesn’t break eye contact, “I invited you over to eat so I pay for it, yeah?”

You didn’t bother to argue back with her, you’d lose in the end. You always did. You mumbled alright and she lifted up her arms so you could slip off the couch. The warmth of your legs were gone, causing her to shiver from the cool feeling of her air conditioner.

You walked over into her room searching around for her pack. Your eyes scan the room when they finally land on it thrown over into the corner. You walk over kneeling down to open it up, digging through it you suddenly feel a sharp sting on your finger. Pulling your hand back from the pack with an ow you look hold your hand to see blood dripping from your middle finger.

“What the fuck?” You mumble.

Instead of making the mistake to dig around unaware again you slowly pull open the sides of the pack, opening it up to peek at what's inside. Your brows furrow at the black cloth harshly shoved in it. Slowly pulling it out to examine it an object flops to the floor. Snapping your head down your eyes widen, You can feel the blood draining from your face. A sharp flutter fills your stomach, it was a mask. But not any mask, a Ghostface mask. Picking it up with your free hand to examine it you now notice the red splatters, it stands out from the contrast of the bold white mask. Is that…blood? You think to yourself, it can’t be. This is a joke, there's no way she’s Ghostface. You smirk to yourself, was she really trying to fuck with you like this? She’s done stupid jokes before but never went as far as buying the costume to trick you. Some tricks, huh. Nice try Ellie.

Did she really think you were that naive? You were going to get up and confront her when the sting of your finger got your attention again. You almost forgot about the cut, you then realized that nothing in your hands could’ve sliced you like that. Don’t tell me she bought a knife too, oh Ellie-. You reached into the pack again, carefully this time knowing your chances of getting cut again were high. You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped your throat when you saw the light shine off the blade, she really outdid herself this time. You grasp the handle and bring it out from the bag, it was the exact kind of knife Ghostface used. The knife had the smeared red on the blade as well.

One part of you couldn’t believe the lengths she’s gone this time to fuck with your “investigation.” But the other part of you couldn’t help but shiver at the thought of her going this far. She didn’t truly know what these things did to you. If it was her, which was a long shot, you wondered how much easier everything would be. Not having to worry about who was behind the mask, not that you really cared, but it was something that crossed your mind. What if it was someone you couldn’t stand, would you be able to still keep up that fantasy of them? Could you still keep it up if it was Ellie? Your feelings for Ellie were that of a roller coaster. In friendship terms everything was smooth sailing, there’s no one else on the planet you could trust your life with more. But when it came to the topic of it being more than a friendship, that was a different story. You can’t say you never had feelings for her, you have. You just pushed them down when you realized how badly it could ruin everything. Plus you had no idea, doubted even, that she liked you the same. So you buried your own feelings deep inside, not daring to let them out again. Sometimes though she’d do things that made you shiver. That would cause those feelings to bubble over again, reaching for nothing but the disappointment you’d give them when you continued to shove them under again.

Although, to know that she did this all for you made those feelings bubble over again. Could she have a clue about your true intentions of wanting who was behind that mask? Is that why she went this far? To make you believe it? To fall for her instead of the true Ghostface? No, she wouldn’t, it’s just a dumb prank.

You laughed at your thoughts, going the extra mile once again, your delusions would constantly take control when the masked killer was involved. You twirl the knife in your hands one last time before you decide to put it down. As you check it for the last time your fingers smooth over something rough on the handle. Curious, you look at what the disturbed surface could be.

As you study the handle your heart drops. No, no, no- this can’t be happening, you think. You can feel the anxiety swell up in your chest. You forget how to breathe, your thoughts racing a million miles a minute. All of the countless hours you spent searching, all of the sleepless nights you’ve had. The endless amount of research you would study, day after day. Stuck scrolling on your computer not resting until you get so close to finding out who it could be. The theories of all the different people you had, you even bought a cork board to help your search. You pulled some crazy shit you kept to yourself to find out where or who they could be. Putting yourself in danger in hopes that you’ll be the slasher's “next prey.”

All of this for what? For it to be your best friend this whole time. The one person you were so sure of it not being. Fuck you felt so stupid. You grew up with her, you knew her better than you knew yourself. You felt pride in knowing that she would never be capable of such a thing, but she was. And here you are, staring at the handle with the piece of it missing that was just discovered by the authorities. As much as you wanted to deny it you couldn’t. Why did you want to deny it?

In a way this makes everything easier, your mind travels back to your earlier thoughts. The thoughts of what if Ellie was the killer. But why didn’t she kill you yet? If no one was safe from her slashes then why were you? Question after question filled your head, trying to piece all the evidence together to figure out just what you have missed. While in deep thought you heard a loud thud. Locking in place you slowly turned your head to the sound.

Ellie stood by the door, frozen. The controller that was once in her hand now faced upside down on the floor. She was wondering why it was taking you so long to grab your wallet. She knew it was in her room, in some pack that she threw on the floor yesterday. She hasn't touched it since. It wasn’t until she started thinking about it that she felt the color drain from her face. She was so exhausted yesterday that she forgot to put her Ghostface pack in the hiding spot she usually does. It slipped from her mind until this moment. Now she’s paying the consequences, walking in on you holding her knife. The very knife you just talked about hours earlier. The single piece of evidence that would be 100% proof of Ellie being Ghostface.

She didn’t know what to do or what to say. Scared that any wrong move would result in your panic, your screams filling the air as you ran for the door. But you didn’t. You didn’t move an inch, holding the knife in your hand you stared back at her. All of this time it was her, you didn’t want to admit it but you felt a sense of relief. You did it, you found out who Ghostface was.

You opened your mouth, trying to get something out, anything out but you couldn’t. Caught like a deer in headlights you thought about your next move. As you thought about it, so did Ellie. You weren’t supposed to find out, even if you did she didn’t want it to be this way. She wanted it on her terms, if she were to ever tell you anyway.

As flustered as she was she managed to speak first, “Seems like all that research paid off huh?” She chuckles.

Leave it to Ellie to make light of a situation like this, you were used to it though. She always jokes around when shit hit the fan, it was one of the many things you loved about her. You just weren’t so sure if this time was the right time for it. You looked down at the knife again, your fingers gliding against the abrasion.

“It was you the whole time…” Ellie’s eyes widened at your voice, “I busted my ass on research and it was right in front of me the whole time.”

“Surprise…?”

You let out a dry laugh at her response, how could you be so fucking stupid. She goes to open her mouth to speak again but you beat her to it.

“Do you know why I really wanted to find out who Ghostface was?”

Fuck it. It was out in the open so you might as well be honest. You didn’t know where this confidence came from but after finding out who a serial killer was you realized you only really have two options. She would let you go, which you think is unlikely or she would have to end it right here right now. Killing you to keep the risk of her being found out by the public. You didn’t think she was capable of killing you, you were her childhood best friend after all.

She stays quiet, letting you continue. You figured you had nothing to lose now, why not let it all out in the open.

“Finding out who was behind the mask really isn’t all that important to me. Honestly I could give less of a fuck who’s behind it. I just want them for myself. My fucked up fantasy of being with the slasher is all that I’ve been craving.” You sigh, your words becoming just a whisper. “It’s sick… I know.”

Did Ellie just hear you correctly? Are her fantasies becoming reality right before her eyes? All those nights at your window, watching you, craving you. You writhing under her as she pleased you in the one thing that made her feel like her true self. She watched as your face fell in despair, you were ashamed. There’s no need to be ashamed.

She wasn’t aware that she said her thoughts aloud, not realizing it until you lifted up your head.

You looked at her with a shocked expression, “You don’t think so?”

“How could I?” She starts, “You know what I do. I have no room to judge anyone, plus I’ve wanted nothing more than this.”

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, did you hear her correctly?

She continues on, “I’ve been dreaming about this moment forever. I wanted to tell you so many times but I didn’t know how. Your reaction was something I was scared of the most. But now that I know you want this, I’m ready to take the next step.”

“What is the next step exactly?” You ask.

Ellie’s soft expression changes in an instant, a smirk adorning her lips.

“I make you mine.”

You felt a slight pang of fear but not too much. Her words catered to your sick mind, they went straight to your core. She took slow steps towards you, as to test the waters on how you would react. You didn’t move an inch, letting her slowly make her way towards you. The grasp you had on the knife tightened in anticipation. When she came close enough she reached out to your hands, loosening your grasp from the knife she took it from you. Her eyes leave yours to study the object in her hands, the object she knew all too well. Her eyes darken as she grasps the handle, pointing the tip of the blade towards you now. The smirk never leaves her lips when she drags the tip of the blade lightly up your throat, stopping to tilt your chin up towards her.

“You want to be mine right?” She asks.

You bite your lip, “Only if you’ll allow it.”

It was at this moment that you saw the true change in her eyes. The Ellie you once knew, the Ellie you grew up with wasn’t the Ellie in front of you now. This Ellie was different…darker…possessive. You wanted to know this version of her more than anything, the true her behind the mask. The person you dreamt of having for so long was finally yours and you were hers. It was at this moment that you knew there was no going back, the two of you now becoming one in her secret. You’d do anything for her, be anything for her. She felt the same, all those nights she watched you at your window. She’d get rid of anyone who tried to hurt you in any way, she’d protect you from any danger that dared to wander around you. God forbid she catches the ones that hurt you, they’d regret their last moments.

Her eyes flickered back towards yours, keeping eye contact for just a moment before trailing around your face. They stop at your lips, how badly she’s wanted to kiss the plush skin for so long. She wastes no time and throws her knife to the side. Grabbing at the sides of your face she roughly presses her lips to yours. Your hands grasp at her shirt, kissing her back with just as much fervor. The kiss was far from innocent, teeth clashing and spit mixing, just how she liked it. She took your bottom lip in her teeth, pulling at the flesh and letting it flick back in place. Her lips lock back onto yours, you pull her closer by her shirt, needing to get as close as possible.

She pulls back after a few seconds, you let out a whimper at the loss. Your eyes filled with desperation as you stared up at her. She coos at the sight, her thumb swiping the spit across your bottom lip.

She licks her lips, “You gonna let me have you tonight?”

You enthusiastically nod your head, “Y-yes.” You’re still shaken up by the sloppy kisses you two just shared.

“Yeah? Gonna let me try something out on ya?”

You continued to nod your head, you didn’t care what she did to you. You’d give her whatever she wanted if she asked, she knew this. Yet she still wants to make sure you’re okay with it. She then took your hands in hers, pulling you to stand up along with her, she then led you to the bed. She pushed you back onto it, you flopped onto the mattress waiting for her next move. She admired you for a moment before walking back by her pack, she grabbed the mask off the floor and slipped it on.

“You want me to fuck you in this mask hm?” She asks. Not giving you time to reply she continues, “How much did you dream about this?”

Your words were stuck in your throat, it was all too much but it was so fucking good. You had envisioned how your first night with Ghostface would play out. Staring into their mask, their fingers buried in you, giving you the utmost pleasure you craved. But this? This was better than anything you could have imagined. Especially when it was with the one woman you loved more than anything.

She picked up her knife, twirling it in her hands.

“I would use this but that persistent fucker had to ruin it for me.” She shook her head, the loose fabric at the ends swayed in the air. “Good thing I got another.”

She walks over to her closet, digging around until she pulls out another Buck 120. She flips it over, checking out the shining blade and admiring it. She loved nothing more than her ol’ reliable knife.

“Got this one as a back up, y'know just in case incidents like before happened. A slasher must always be prepared~”

Her head looks up, the soulless black eyes staring into yours. You can hear the teasing tone in her voice when she talks to you. She’s well aware she has you wrapped around her finger, ready to do whatever she pleases.

She stalks towards you, “I’m gonna fuck you with this knife now~.” Her hold on the knife now tighter, “Don’t worry baby it’s clean, haven’t killed anyone with this one…yet.”

Your eyes widened, her words went straight to your core. You couldn’t help the little fidgets your body made as she slowly made her way towards you. You couldn’t see because of the mask but her eyes were trained on your thighs that clenched together in anticipation. You couldn’t help but rub them together, needing some sort of friction to relieve the heat building up between them.

You couldn’t help but ask, “Which side?”

Ellie groaned at your question, “Fuck baby~ you want the blade? Are you that psycho for me?”

You didn’t particularly want to be mutilated tonight, even though somewhere deep down in your fucked up brain the thought was there, you just wanted to make sure Ellie was on the same page.

“Just curious…” You reply.

She now stood in front of you, knife in her right hand. Her free hand comes up to rest on your knee, pushing it to the side to open your legs up for her. You can hear her heavy breaths through the mask.

“As much as I wanna see you bleed, I don’t want it that way. That’s what your thighs are for.”

Her hand strokes down your thigh, stopping midway to squeeze at the flesh. She brings her knife up to your skin, slicing it lightly enough to draw a tiny bit of blood. She flicks up the knife, her skills on display as she scoops the blood onto the blade, bringing it up to her mask and smearing it on the white rubber. She drags the knife down to the tip of the chin, tapping it against it a few times, as if in thought of what her next move is. You whimper at the sting of the cut, little droplets still flowing from it. She reaches up to smear the blood across your thigh, taking her time watching the way the red liquid spreads.

“I’ve wanted to see you bleed for me so bad. S’Better than I ever imagined.”

You bite your lip, holding back your whimpers as you wait impatiently for her next move. You wanted her to do something, to do anything to relieve the ache you felt. She turns the knife around in her hand, the grip pointing towards you.

“I’m gonna fuck you with the handle instead. That way every time I slash someone I have a memory of you with me. It’ll be the only thing I’ll think about with my victims.”

Her words flooded through your veins, firing up every cell in your body. You didn’t know she had such a way with her words, if she kept going you’d probably climax just from them alone. As much as her words had an effect on you, you wanted her to go along with her promise.

“Please…just fuck me already Ellie.” You beg.

“Patience Doll~ You out of everyone should know I like to take my sweet time when it comes to my victims. But since you said please, I’ll give you what you want.”

She sets the knife down next to you on the bed, her hands grip at the waistband of your shorts pulling them down. You were soaked, the fabric of your panties so wet that you could see the outline of your pussy.

“Mmh so wet for me, all I did was speak to you and draw a little blood.” Her thumb presses into your slit, pushing against your juices.

Her fingers hook into your panties pulling out the fabric, she then grabs her knife and cuts off your panties. You breath hitches at how close the blade was to your core, any closer and she would’ve cut you. Making you bleed for the second time that night. She chuckles at your reaction then shoves the panties into her back pocket, saving them for later.

She pushes up your thigh, opening you up for her and lines up the knife handle to your entrance. She teases you, gliding the end of it up and down your slit collecting up your juices to lube up the knife.

“You ready Doll?” She asks.

You whisper out a yes as she slowly slides the handle into your pussy, watching you grip onto it. You can feel her push back on your thigh more, making you stretch so she can get a nice view of you. Even though it was happening in front of her she couldn’t believe you were sprawled out before her like this. She’d catch herself staring at her knife imagining how it would look against your skin, how much she craved to slide it through your folds. Now that she was here it was almost too much, but she didn’t let her excitement take control. She wanted to fully immerse herself in this experience, taking all of you in. From the scrunches of your brows to the curling of your toes, she wanted to see all of you.

She carefully dragged out the knife, her hand delicately holding the blade. She pushes the handle in and out of you, setting a slow steady rhythm. You writhe under her touch, not being able to hold back your moans anymore, the cool handle adding to the pleasure. You grab onto her wrist, holding her tight. You look up at her mask and she catches your movements tilting up her head. You’re staring hard enough to see her eyes through the meshed fabric, seeing the darkness behind them. She’s wanted this just as much as you did and you’re so glad it’s her that’s giving you this much pleasure. As good as it felt you wanted more, the slow pace was killing you. In a way you felt like she was holding back, still too afraid to lose herself, scared that she might hurt you.

“Ellie…” You moan out, she twists the knife slightly muttering a yes.

“Please don’t hold back.” Her movements stop and you whine at her, “I want you to let yourself go, let Ghostface come out.”

Ellie’s hand quivered at your words, were you sure? Once she’s in that mindset she’s gone, she doesn't wanna risk too much. Although her dark thoughts were always in the back of her mind, how badly she wanted to drill her knife into you and watch you squirm at her force.

“Baby, are you sure? I don’t know if I’ll be able to control myself.”

You loved when she called you that, “Yes, I’m sure. I want it this way, I’m begging you~.”

You gave her wrist a reassuring squeeze and that was all she needed before the light in her switched. The Ellie you grew up with, knowing better than anyone is not the Ellie that’s in front of you now. That confirmation from you was all she needed to let her true side take control. It happened so fast you didn’t know how to react, Ellie had grabbed you and flipped you over. Making sure your ass was up in the air, almost hanging off the edge of the bed. You braced yourself on your hands, an oof coming out of your lips when she pushed your face down into the mattress.

You felt a harsh smack on your ass, you moaned at the sting it left behind. She kneads the flesh after, spreading you open and admiring you from behind. Without second thought she reaches down to grab the knife, this time firmly grabbing it by the blade as she plunges the handle inside you once again. She wastes no time fucking you hard and fast, her knuckles white from how hard she holds onto the blade.

“F-fuck Ellie!” You gasp out.

You’re in ecstasy, loving the way her demeanor changed. She loses herself in you, focused on the handle pushing in and out of you, how your juices cover the handle and drip down the blade onto her hand.

“You like that Doll? You’re taking this knife so well~ M’so proud of you.”

Your moans grow louder by the second, you’re not able to hold back anymore, not that Ellie wants you to anyway. You grip the bed sheets tight, your face repeatedly pushing into the mattress at her relentless force. You knew she was strong but fuck not like this. You were never really on the receiving end of her strength to truly know but now that you were you could see why no one stood a chance against her. She slaps at your ass again before she brings her free hand down to rub circles against your clit causing you to cry out. If she kept fucking you this way it wouldn’t take long for you to reach your high.

“Shit-” You heard her whisper.

You whip your head to the side to look at her. You can see her head tilt up to look back at you, she suddenly took her hand off your clit to reach up and tear off her mask. Her hair was a mess, tangled and stuck to her face in other spots from her sweat. Her eyes were blown wide, a harsh darkness to them you’ve never seen before and her lips. Her lips were red and plush from how much she bit them at the sight of you. You were a masterpiece to her, this was all she ever wanted. When she pushed her hair out of the way you noticed the blood that smeared along her forehead. She saw your eyes on her hand and gave you a lopsided smile, her hand going back down to rub at your clit once more.

“Fuckin’ you so hard I cut myself.” She laughs darkly, “You don’t mind right?”

Well fuck-

Your eyebrows scrunched together at her words, “No!” You moaned. “Don’t mind.”

You could barely form sentences from how good she was making you feel, she knew this and she reveled in that fact. A cocky smirk on her lips as her eyes watched the way you squirmed and stuttered under her. She could give less of a fuck that she’s bleeding, your pleasure being the only thing that matters. It didn’t take much longer for you to feel the build up in the pit of your stomach, you were close.

“Ellie I’m so close, please don’t stop~”

“Don’t plan on it Doll~” Ellie replies, speeding up her movements, if that were even possible.

You bury your face into the mattress but then you feel a harsh smack to your clit.

“I wanna hear your moans Sweetheart, don’t hide them from me now.”

You nod your head rapidly, tears are starting to form in your eyes from all the pleasure you’re experiencing. Who would’ve thought you’d be right here, experiencing the one thing you wanted the most, you never thought your day would end up like this. You’re thankful nonetheless, this is exactly what you wanted and you wouldn’t want anyone else doing it to you.

It didn’t take long until you reached your high.

“Ahh~ I’m cumming!”

Your back arched more, pulling at the sheets so hard they come undone from the edges. Ellie doesn’t slow down her movements either, ignoring the pain in her hand she keeps sliding the knife in and out of you. She watched as your juices flowed down onto the blade and her hand, mixing in with her blood. It made her moan out loud, a sight she’d never forget.

“Mmm cum for me Doll, just like that. I wanna see your juices on my blade.”

She helps you ride out your orgasm and your legs start to tremble. She chuckles at the state you’re in and slowly pulls the blade out of your pussy, watching your sticky juice strings stick to the handle. You watch her bring up the knife to her lips, sucking your juices off the handle, you whimper at her actions. When she’s done she throws the knife to the floor, her hands back onto you she spreads her blood up your thigh and onto your ass cheek as she gives you one last squeeze. You’re panting as you turn yourself over to lay on your back, she helps you lie down with a dark smile. She loves how she got you to this point, as much as she’d like to do it again she decides to save it for another night.

She reaches over to give your hand a quick squeeze saying she’ll be right back as she walks over to her bathroom. After a few moments she comes back with a wet towel, a cloth is tied around her hand to stop the blood from flowing. She walks over to you and wipes away all the blood and cum off your body, giving soothing strokes to your skin afterwards.

“So…” Ellie starts, “You gonna turn me in?”

You can’t help the snort that comes out of your throat, “Fuck off.”

“Is that a no, or?” She questions a knowing smile on her lips.

“I let you fuck me with your knife, do you think I’m gonna turn you in?”

She laughs at your response, “Just fuckin’ with ya.”

She climbs into the bed lying next to you, throwing the towel onto the floor, she faces you and strokes your cheek with the back of her knuckles. You look over at her with tired eyes and a warm smile, she really does switch up fast.

The two of you wrap up in each other's arms for the rest of the night. You ask all about her time as Ghostface, wanting to know every gory detail and she tells you it all. After a few hours of chatting you both lay in silence, content in each others presence.

Ellie speaks up first, “So…about that pizza?”

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RAVIOLIII!! I hope you all enjoyed my fic!! I thank you all for reading my content! I have more on the way but I will be taking a small break to work on my drag projects I got going on!! As always any feedback is appreciated as I always want to level up my writing. Thank you all for being patient with me!! You Beauties~ have a wonderful day/night!!

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@moonlightdivine , @sidefanficaccounttohidemyshametohidemyshame

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eiightysixbaby · 7 months

Text

this is heaven, what i truly want

oliver quick x fem!reader

you’re never truly alone at saltburn. there’s always someone watching. (3.4k+)

18+ only! oral f receiving, voyeurism, unprotected piv, creampie, spit kink, use of pet names (darling, sweetheart, baby, etc.), one use of ‘sir’, cum eating (just a smidge), biting and choking (literally one brief instance of each), edging. lmk if I forgot any!

a/n: hooooo boy I wanted to try something new, so here it is! promise I’m not fully veering away from my usual stranger things content, I just desperately needed to write some filth for ollie 🤭 hope you enjoy!! I proofread this a couple times but if there’s mistakes iM SORRY. my closing statement: I can fix him your honor.

Watched. For days you’ve felt like you’re being watched. Carefully, closely, tracking your every move. Maybe the walls have eyes, who knows with a place as eccentric as this. All of the ornate fixtures and ancient paintings do have a bit of an eery, haunting feel to them.

Or perhaps it’s just because you aren’t used to having housekeepers around at all hours of the day. Duncan has always been off-putting; every summer you’ve spent at Saltburn throughout your life there’s been an energy about him that’s made the hair on your neck stand up.

Regardless, you’ve tried to shake off the feeling, wondering if you were finally losing your mind. Because here, with Felix and Venetia, Elspeth and James and Farleigh — you’re safe. They’re lifelong family friends who, as strange as they may be at times, make you feel secure. Nobody would have any business spying on you.

But oh, you should’ve known better.

You slip out of the large clawfoot tub, bare feet planting themselves on the white tile floor. Water drips from your body, the tiniest puddle forming at your feet. Grabbing your towel, you begin to dry your body with the soft fabric. You hum softly to yourself, reaching for your satin robe where it hangs by the vanity. For a moment you think you hear something, the tiniest creaking sound, and you move to look around the unnecessarily large bathroom. It’s dark in the corners where the light doesn’t quite reach, but even squinting you see nothing out of the ordinary.

You’re fucking losing it, you mentally scold yourself. It’s an old house, it’s going to make noise.

You lean against the vanity, palms flat on the marble countertop. Letting out a heavy sigh, your head hangs low, eyes closed. Get it together.

When you’ve finally steadied your breathing, you look back up to greet yourself in the mirror. You work your hairbrush through your wet hair, taking care to untangle any knots. The feeling won’t go away, your defenses raised. Eyes on you. There’s someone watching. There has to be.

You see him in the mirror before you actually see him.

Turning on your heel, a loud gasp escapes you. Your heart pounds behind your rib cage, your eyes focusing in on the figure lurking in the dark hallway. The bathroom door is open a crack, eyes you know to be blue piercing through you.

Oliver.

“What the fuck, Ollie!?” you shout, watching as he slips fully into the bathroom and shuts the door behind him.

You retreat, back pressing against the counter behind you. He stalks calmly towards you, caging you in. You swallow, unable to stop the way your eyes study his muscular frame, his tank top clinging tight to his torso.

“Now now,” he says, soft and steady. “We don’t want the whole house to wonder what’s up, do we?”

“What are you doing here?” you grit, nostrils flaring as you exhale heavily. Your posture stiffens, tense under his chilling gaze. “Why were you watching me?”

“Don’t act so offended, darling,” he says, stepping so close that your chests nearly touch. “Do you think I don’t see the way you look at me?”

Your lips part, breath hitching in your throat. It’d be a filthy lie to act as if you haven’t been admiring him since he first arrived, under Felix’s wing like a timid little animal. Something about him has captivated you, intrigued you, lured you in. He’s just so quiet, so skittish. So beautiful.

Being as close to family as you could get, you didn’t want to make things awkward by putting the moves on Felix’s friend, so you avoided him when you could. But that only made things more unbearable for you. Many a night was spent with your hand between your thighs, softly crying his name into your dark bedroom. Imagining he was there with you. He couldn’t know about that… could he?

“I don’t know what you’re implying,” you say, looking up at him defiantly. Lying through your teeth. You should know he can practically smell the nervousness on you.

It’s cute that you think he’d buy this.

“Oh, save the games, sweetheart,” he tuts, taking a final step closer to you. His chest fully pressed against yours now, his face dipping forward until his mouth is right beside your ear. “I know you touch yourself at night, stretching open that pretty little cunt, wishing it was me.”

Fucking hell.

“Did you really think you could be slick? Think I wouldn’t catch the way you stare at me all of the time, think I wouldn’t figure you out?”

“How long have you been watching me?” you ask quietly, your voice meek now.

“Not any longer than you’ve been watching me.”

“I haven’t—” you start, but he presses a finger to your lips, quieting you. He raises a brow, as if to say ‘Do you really want to go there?’

God, you were so stupid. Staring at him any chance you got; looking out your window at him while he’d lounge shirtless by the pool, or peering through his cracked bedroom door one evening after dinner in hopes of seeing him changing. You were sick. And here you are, chastising him.

You keep your gaze directly on his, feeling your heart rate increase under the scrutiny of those piercing, gorgeous blue eyes. He gently holds your chin, keeping you focused on him as he studies your face.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmurs, letting his free hand come to rest on your waist. You’re reminded then that you’re only in a robe, and suddenly your skin feels like it’s ablaze.

“Oliver—” you start, your eyes big and pleading as you stare at him. What exactly you’re hoping for you don’t know, you just want him to do something.

His gaze flits to your lips, his tongue poking out to wet his own. Leaning in, his mouth ghosts over yours, barely grazing your waiting pout. He pulls back, teasing, and you chase him. Seeking out his lips until he gives in, one hand on your lower back, holding you against him as he kisses you roughly. His tongue licks into your eager mouth, swirling around yours, tasting you. It feels as though you’re nearly devouring each other, teeth clashing as your hands reach up to tangle themselves in his hair.

You whine, a high-pitched and pretty thing when he lets his mouth find your neck, sucking harsh on the delicate skin. Rolling your hips against his, you can feel the bulge straining in his boxers and he groans at the sudden friction.

“Ol— Ollie, please,” you beg, for what it isn’t clear, but he removes his lips from your pulse point to look at you.

“Such a needy little thing you are,” he says, regarding you down the bridge of his nose. “And to think five minutes ago you were acting like I wasn’t welcome in here…”

You chew at your bottom lip, thighs pressing together involuntarily at the way he speaks to you. His tone is ultimately patronizing, and you’d have no complaints if he spoke to you like this all of the time.

He dips his head back down, this time kissing over your collarbone. Every inch of skin he kisses seems to ignite, electricity coursing through your veins. He unties the fabric belt securing your robe around your front, letting it instead fall open for him. You’re completely bare beneath the black silky fabric, and you watch the way his eyes trail down your figure. He studies you like you’re the most gorgeous thing he’s ever seen, and there’s an insatiable hunger behind that stunning blue. He’d eat you whole if it were possible.

Continuing his descent, he takes the nipple of your right breast into his mouth, kneading the left with his hand. You gasp, tipping your head back as his tongue rolls over the sensitive little bud, sucking on it. He diverts his mouth’s attention to the other side, then, making sure he gives equal attention to each of your tits. You can feel yourself throb for him, nearly dripping at your core in anticipation.

“Such pretty tits,” he mumbles, lips trailing against your skin. He lets his face linger between them for a moment, caressing them with soft hands.

Your mind wanders as he works his way down, kissing down your stomach, nipping at your hips. You wonder how often he’s spied on you without you catching him — exactly how many times he’s seen you touch yourself to the thought of him. It only drives you further up the wall; picturing him peering through a crack in your bedroom door on nights where you’d lay completely bare on your bed, pleasuring yourself to thoughts of his fingers and tongue. He’s sick, you’re sick, and maybe you’re perfect for each other.

You’re brought entirely back to the present when you feel his breath fanning against your cunt, his eyes peering up at you from where he rests on his knees. He doesn’t break eye contact as he brings two fingers up to swipe through your folds, collecting your slick. You shiver, mouth agape as he brings those fingers to his mouth, sucking your sweet honey from them.

“You’re so fuckin’ wet for me, darling. And you taste so sweet,” he murmurs, pressing his face against your mound. He inhales, the tip of his nose nudging at your clit, making your hips jerk slightly. “Smell even sweeter,” he praises. He’d bottle up your scent and wear it like cologne if it were possible, anything to feel close to you all of the time.

His lips part, hot breath fanning against your exposed cunt as he collects himself. You feel his tongue lick a delicate stripe up through your folds, a barely-there sensation, but it makes your back arch regardless.

“Oliver,” you moan, tangling your fingers in his hair.

You hear him exhale in a smug laugh before you feel his tongue again. He’s far more intentional this time, letting it lap up your juices from every crevice. You tug hard on his hair when you feel the wet muscle breach your entrance, lewd slurping sounds coming from the way he pleasures you. His strong hands grip your thighs, fingers digging into the plush skin, keeping you right where he wants you.

It feels like you’re levitating, ascending to a higher realm as he licks and sucks at your pretty, glistening pussy. He allows his mouth to focus on your clit, teeth grazing it in a greedy little nip before he soothes the area with his velvety tongue. You’re seeing stars when you feel two of his fingers slip generously inside of you, scissoring within your walls.

“Oh— oh my god,” you whine, your eyes pinching shut as you tip your head back.

“That’s right, baby — I’m your God. Worship me like I’m your God,” he growls, in a different headspace entirely.

While he’s usually so soft-spoken and polite, in this moment he’s cocky; more confident than you thought he’d ever be. You can’t fault him for it, though, because you do want to worship him. You want to get on your knees and pray for him.

Weeks of yearning, lusting after him from afar have come to fruition. Your longing now seeps out of you, with his eager mouth to swallow it all. He fucks his fingers harder into you, curling into your sweet spot as his tongue flicks rapidly back and forth over your sensitive bud.

The thing is, it’s been weeks of yearning on his end, too. This place, warm and wet between your thighs, is his altar — his holy ground. He wants to worship you just as much as he wants you to worship him. He’s dreamt of what you would taste like, how you’d suck him right in, and now that he has you he never wants to let you go.

“Fuck, Ollie, don’t stop,” you plead, letting loud rhythmic moans fall from your lips. At this point you don’t care if the entire house hears you; so fucking be it if they do. You know Farleigh would love something to gossip about; what better topic than how Oliver gave you a religious experience right under this massive roof?

Reading your mind, he speaks from his spot between your legs. “So fuckin’ loud, darling. You want everyone to hear us? To hear how good I make you feel?”

“Yes, fuck yes,” you pant, grinding down on his fingers, nearly humping his face.

He hopes in his twisted mind that someone is listening. Hearing him claim you, mark you as his. He shakes his head back and forth, tongue laying flat as it swipes over your clit messily. You can feel yourself about to let go, to come completely undone for him.

But he can sense it, he can see it on your face that you’re so deliciously close to release, and he’s not having it yet.

Your brows furrow when he removes his fingers from your cunt, pulling his mouth away as well. You’re about to protest, about to plead with him to keep going, but he’s standing and pressing his lips to yours before you can get a word out.

There’s a painful ache in your core, and you can feel yourself still soaking wet for the man before you. His teeth bite at your bottom lip, tugging on it while he studies you with half-lidded eyes. He rolls his hips against yours and you can feel his excitement, his cock stiff in his boxers.

You paw at the waistband, attempting to free him from his confines, desperate to feel him. His fingers wrap around your wrists, stopping them from getting any closer to his cock.

“Don’t get greedy, sweetheart,” he warns. “I call the shots.”

He grabs you by the waist, encouraging you to sit on the counter behind you. You jump with his assistance, your skin cold where it rests on the marble surface.

His lips latch onto your neck once more, sucking on delicate skin, leaving tender bruises. He takes his sweet time, drawing out your agony as your arousal drips down your thighs. Pitiful whimpers crawl their way out of your throat, tilting your head to the side to allow him better access. He nips at the skin at the juncture of your neck and shoulder, licking the stinging spot afterwards to calm the ache. His thumbs tease your nipples, palms squeezing your breasts and making your back arch into him.

He removes one hand, reaching down to discard his boxers onto the floor. Finally, he grips his weeping cock in his fist, thumb running over the angry red tip. You gasp at the size of him, letting your eyes take in every inch, every vein. Committing him to memory.

“So fucking big, Ollie,” you murmur, reaching a tentative hand out, running a fingertip gently along his shaft. You’re almost surprised he lets you, and you don’t miss the way his jaw clenches in an attempt to keep his composure.

His large, warm palms move to your thighs, parting them for him. His tongue pokes out to lick his lips at the sight of you spread open for him, completely bare and wet with both his saliva and your arousal. In a moment of boldness, you pull him to you by the chain around his neck, your tongue instantly finding its way into his mouth. He exhales heavily, your tongues licking fervently into each other’s mouths, lips grazing.

You register the feeling of him lining his cock up at your entrance, the tip pressing against your folds. He slips inside, a groan leaving his lips as a shrill moan of his name leaves yours. The way he stretches you is bliss, there’s no other word for it. Pleasure that just barely teeters on the edge of pain, his cock reaching spots inside of you that your fingers could only hope to. He dips his head slightly, trailing kisses along your jawline until he reaches your ear, biting at the lobe. He starts with slow, calculated thrusts, his fingers digging harshly into your hips.

Your breathing is ragged, sinful sounds leaving you over and over as he starts to fuck you faster.

“Bet I feel so much better than your fingers, hm? Is this what you wanted all along? My cock stretching you out?” he asks, voice breathy and low. His words send shockwaves right to your core, turning you on even further.

“Yes, god, yes. Thought about this every night, Ollie. Wished you’d sneak into my room and have your way with me,” you confess, your cheeks growing warm as he smirks at you.

“Dirty little girl,” he tsks, letting his forehead rest against yours, fucking into you hard and fast.

The sounds of skin on skin mix with his pretty noises and yours; grunts and whines and sighs that reverberate off of the walls. Your nails claw at his shoulders, grounding yourself as his cock drives into your sweet spot again and again and again. Your eyes go wide when you watch him dip his head, spitting down onto your pussy, adding to the slippery mess that you’ve already created.

When he looks back up at you, your lips are parted in awe, your eyes begging for him to give you more. Spit in my mouth, please, is the unspoken cry that he understands instantly.

He grabs your face in one hand, squishing your cheeks hard enough that your lips part further. Your eyes roll back into your skull as he lets a string of saliva fall into your waiting mouth, his fingers tapping the bottom of your chin twice, encouraging you to close your mouth and swallow. You do as he wants, willing to swallow whatever he’d give you.

“Such a good girl,” he praises, slowing his thrusts briefly, giving you long and passionate strokes before returning to his previous quick pace.

“Oliver, oh my god,” you cry for him, your eyes screwing shut. “Feels so good, don’t stop. Please don’t fucking stop.”

You can feel your previously staved-off orgasm approaching once more, the coil in the pit of your gut tightening more and more with each snap of his hips against yours.

“You getting close, baby?” he asks, letting his fingers wrap around your throat and squeeze. It gets the reaction he wants, your eyes snapping open and focusing on him. “That’s right, you look at me when I’m making you feel this good,” he instructs, letting go of your neck. “Otherwise, you don’t get to cum.

“Y-yes sir,” you comply. “Please make me cum, I’m so fucking close, Ollie, need it so bad,” you beg, making sure to keep your eyes on his. That stunning, icy blue pierces through your soul, sending a chill down your spine. His stare is intimidating, raising the hairs on your neck just as it did each time you weren’t quite sure who was watching you.

He bites down hard on your shoulder, rutting into you faster and faster until you’re finally tumbling over the edge. Your orgasm hits you in overwhelming waves, your walls clenching tight around his thick length.

“Oliver, Oliver, Oliver,” you chant his name, a prayer being raised to the sky as he shows you pure ecstasy.

His movements don’t slow, his lips greedily sucking at your neck before making their way back to your mouth.

“Gonna let me cum inside you sweetheart?” he asks between desperate kisses, your instantaneous nod nearly embarrassing.

“Please cum inside me, need your fucking cum, Ollie,” you respond, lips brushing against his. “Fill me up, make me yours.”

He groans low at your words, eyelids fluttering closed as you feel his cock twitch inside of you. Warm, thick ropes of his cum paint your walls, shuddering breaths leaving him as his head tips back.

“Fuuuuuuck,” he moans, giving you every drop that he has, continuing to rut into you until he’s completely milked dry.

Heavy breaths fill the room, his spent cock slipping out of you, leaving the mixture of your arousals to drip out and onto the floor. Trying to catch your breath, you watch in shock as he drops to his knees once more.

“What are you… what are you doing?” you ask, a sly smile on his face as he looks up at you.

“Just making sure you’re properly cleaned up, is all. Can’t have you going to bed like this,” he muses, collecting some of the sticky mixture with a quick swipe of his tongue. “Just lean back and relax, darling. Got to make up for all those nights you spent alone.”

#oliver quick x reader #oliver quick x fem!reader #oliver quick #oliver quick smut #oliver quick fanfic #saltburn smut #saltburn #saltburn fanfiction #mdni banner by cafekitsune

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hyuk4sbf · 2 years

Note

im so glad you’re back!!! i asked this before but can you please write dry humping w/ beomgyu <3

hi!!!!! tysm sorry this took me so long writing is hard >< hope u like it i got a lil carried away w it so hopefully that makes it worth the wait im so sorry again LOL

>nsfw!!!! obvi ฅ/ᐠ. ̫ .ᐟ\ฅ

>word count: 1.6k

>sub!beomgyu x gn!reader

*wrote and edited on phone lmk if theres any mistakes idk T_T

“baby,” beomgyu breathes against your mouth, “baby, i think we should stop.”

you pull away, hands still on the nape of his neck as you eye him with concern. his chest heaves, pupils dilated as his eyes practically memorise every feature to your face.

you’re perched in his lap, lips kiss-swollen, eyes hazy and thighs soft in the palms of his hands. you tilt your head at him, and it makes his throat a little drier.

“sorry, are you okay?” you question, a simmering of guilt beginning to rise in your stomach. you might’ve pushed him too far? you hope not. he swallows, blinking heavily.

“it’s okay, m’okay,” beomgyu tells you, yet he still sounds like he’s had the breath punched out of him. you try to smile a little to reassure him, your hand coming up to cup his cheek.

“we don’t have to keep going but can you tell me what happened?”

beomgyu sputters a little, his ears tinting a pretty red, and he leans his head further into your palm embarrassedly. you thumb over his cheek with a pretty little chuckle.

“i… i don’t know.” he tells you. he watches your expression change, disbelief clear as day. you prod his side a little just to see him jolt and squirm, pout now evident on your mouth.

“don’t lie, beoms,” you whine at him, “tell me what’s wrong so i can fix it.”

he scrunches his face a little, and that’s when you finally feel it. he knows you do, and he does anything to move his hips away from your own. he’s hard.

“oh,” you simply say, and watch as his hands come up to cover his face that flares an alarming red.

“m’sorry,” he babbles, “m’so sorry i didn’t mean to.”

you feel heat in the face, a warmth swirling your stomach as you watch him practically pant for forgiveness. you purse your lips at the shiver that threatens to take over your body. he got hard just from kissing you, your brain continues to alarm you as if hitting you with neon lights. your heart thumps a little louder in your chest, you wonder if beomgyu would be able to hear it if he listened close enough. however, the shy heat you feel radiating from your boyfriend makes you realise perhaps his heart is too loud in his ears to hear anything else.

your mind made up, you gently coax his hands away from his face, the little smile on your lips doing nothing to stop the swoop in beomgyu’s tummy. fuck, you’re so pretty. he feels the sweat that clams his hands, an inner voice chastising him for how pathetic he must look. you haven’t done anything but kiss him, how embarrassing.

but you just continue to shyly smile at him, much like he’s just put the stars in the sky for you rather than get an unwarranted boner for you in his lap. fuck, you’re still in his lap. your hands still hold his, keeping them away from his face. he feels hot all over again.

“it’s okay, baby,” you coo. “i can help.”

i can help. i can help. i can help.

he exhales shakily, throat bobbing as he swallows away how dry it feels. his eyes are caught with yours, flickering between your eyes and your mouth. he really needs to kiss you again, his thoughtful, beautiful lover. the urge falls off his tongue in a needy breath of, “please.”

you coo again, eyes sparkling as you cup his face and lean in to press your lips against his. you press yourself closer to him, shuffling your hips forward.

his reaction is immediate, a hand reaching for one of your thighs. the other curls around the small of your back as he openly whimpers into your mouth. he grasps at you like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he lets go, pulls you as close as he physically can. you distantly think about what his fingerprints would look like as bruises on your skin.

“do you want it just like this? hm?” you question as you pull away just a tad, “can’t even get my clothes off me, you’re that desperate for anything?” it’s teasing, condescending and you know it, but the way his eyes flutter and he nods obediently gives you enough incentive to keep going. you giggle and pair it with the rough roll of your hips down against his.

at this, beomgyu jolts with a deep moan, so pretty as it catches on a breath, and he starts to chase the friction. his hips move of their own accord, rutting up against you in an desperate pace. you’re more than happy to meet him halfway.

“come on, baby. that’s it.” you lean to whisper against the shell of his ear, “such a good boy.”

he almost can’t breathe through the flame of arousal and pleasure that lick up his spine in thick, hot waves, mixing together in excruciating and intoxicating measures. you feel so good, your skin so soft under his palms, your hot breath wet against his ear, the weight of you on his clothed cock. he does his best to memorise every detail, but the foggy haze of lust proves it a challenge.

“feel so good under me like this,” you tell him, “so big, you’d feel so good inside me, hm? would you fuck me just right? make me feel good too?” the filth spills out of your mouth before you can really stop it. you want to be unsure of where the confidence came from that you could say such things, but nothing’s more reassuring of its origins than the way beomgyu eagerly nods along to every word.

“yes. yes. please, want you to feel good, too. please, baby. wanna make you cum so bad.” he pleads, practically begging as his hand on your back guides you to hump a little harder into him.

you hum, satisfied with his answer and a little gasp catches in your throat at the sudden eagerness he has to grind directly into your own sex. your hands fall to his tummy, and you take the opportunity to slip up his shirt, fingers exploring every sliver of skin that gets exposed to you the higher you hike upwards. you practically leave flames in your wake, his breaths so loud and shaky, skin so hot and slicking up with a sheen of sweat under your touch.

“so cute,” you giggle and you can’t help but to ask, “been thinking about this?”

the boy pants, “all the— ah!… time. think about you coming on my tongue all the time. ah fuck, fuck! you’re so pretty.”

you whimper against his ear, “maybe if you cum for me like this, i’ll let you taste me. think you can do it, beomie?” you reach his chest, and your fingers roll his nipples between them, and somehow he humps into you with a more desperate intent. and god fuck, he whines, louder than he had been, body trembling under yours and hands grasping at your shirt for dear life.

“yes, p…please. i think m’close. please…”

“what is it, honey? what do you need?”

“kiss me. fuck, please kiss me. m’gonna cum.”

your heart thrums in your ears, and you’re quick to oblige, lips smashing against his own in a mess of tongue and teeth.

beomgyu gasps into your mouth, his body seizing, thighs trembling underneath you, and you moan in response at the realisation of the mess he’s making in his pants. his eyes scrunching closed at the pleasure that takes hold of his body, and you keep your hips moving to guide him through it.

your hands push his hair out of his face, your ministrations falling to a complete halt as you start to coax him down from his high. he looks so dazed, but satiated.

your expression easily mirrors his own when his lips stretch into a big, dopey smile at you. “god, you are so hot.”

you playfully land a smack to his arm, and bury your head in his neck as the embarrassment of all you had said starts to set in. his skin is damp and sticky, but you try to hide regardless.

“i’m serious!” he exclaims, “i don’t think i’ve ever cum that hard in my life.”

you mumble, “you are so bad at this aftercare stuff.”

you feel his chest vibrate as he laughs, hearty and so himself it makes it hard to believe you had him so pliant just minutes before. the thought hitting you, the close memory of it makes you a little squirmy. he clicks his tongue.

“it’s not aftercare if it’s not over, is it?”

you move from his neck, going to question what he means. the words hitch in your throat as he catches you off guard and uses little to no strength to flip your position. your back hits the mattress with an ‘oomph!’ and you stare up at him wide-eyed.

he grins, toothy and beaming as he leans down to press kisses to the corner of your mouth that hangs agape in surprise. he trails downwards, underneath your jawline and your hands abruptly grasp at his shoulders. your chest heaves a shaky breath.

then, he pulls away, and shifts himself down the bed.

“what are you doing?”

he nudges your shirt up with his hands, and pushes your legs until he can fit between them. there’s a kiss on your tummy, and then a fiddling at the waistband of your pants. beomgyu smiles up at you, eyes sparkling happily as he waits for your permission.

“you said i could taste you.”

#beomgyu smut #txt smut #txt hard thoughts #beomgyu x reader #beomgyu thoughts #beomgyu imagine

1K notes · View notes

vmpiires · 9 months

Text

𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐎 𝐊𝐀𝐌𝐎

„𝐈𝐍𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐓𝐘”

𝐂𝐖;; mature content. afab!reader, stoner!choso, non-curse/sorcerer AU, no uses of y/n. not proofread so i apologize in advance for any mistakes if they’re made.

𝐏𝐋𝐎𝐓;; choso’s mind has been spiraling for a couple days now. the fact that you wrote your phone number down on his hand had him going. he wanted to call you. he wanted to text you. but he just couldn’t. in order to be sanitary, he’d write the number down again on a sticky note and scrubbed the ink off his skin. he didn’t have time for a lover…but he felt like making time for you.

₊❏❜ ⋮ part one ⌒

. ݁ ࣪ ، ⌗ masterlist

: ̗̀➛ art creds by;; currently unknown. dividers are not mine, if you own these, you may claim them in comments.

: ̗̀➛ WORD COUNT;; 2.33K

dark mode recommended

do not copy this plot. i’m perfectly fine with inspirations but give creds. if this plot his stolen in any way, the post will be taken down and you will be blocked.

𝐃𝐀𝐊𝐎𝐓𝐀𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒 ✉️🖇️;; idk how long this story will stretch but if ya like it,, i’ll make more parts to it. not too many though. i wanna get to geto too (as promised). hope ya enjoyyyy. reblog to support meeee and if you want more :D (also lmk if you wanna be tagged for possible upcoming parts if i decide to continue)

another note: i finally made a masterlist. that shit took me 5 HOURS to make because i was fixing and adding so much stuff. i just wanted it to be pretty. ya should go look at it :P and should i make a AO3??? i see so many writers with them and i was wondering if i should do that too..

final note: guys,, remember this is my personal twist on the mid 90’s era so some things from current time will be put into the story (such as the ability to text without emailing one another or using a pager, familiar current time songs that are added into the 90’s era of this story, certain tv shows/movies that came after the 90’s)

₊❏❜ ⋮ continue to part three ⌒

“choso, we should make the house look like a haunted house!” itadori suggests. october was the season of spooks and scares (as yuji put it) and choso wasn’t into festivities that much but if he had to do it to make his little brother happy, he would do it.

the boys make their way to the nearby department store, letting yuji pick out what decorations should be put up in the house. for a little boy, choso didn’t even even pick up how significantly scary the items were because yuji wasn’t shitting himself out of fear.

“uh…yuji, i know you said you wanted the place to look like a haunted house…are you sure you won’t freak yourself out and start crying?” choso said, stifling his laughter.

“i’m not gonna cry.” yuji crossed his arms. “and i’m not scared of some dumb clowns. they’re just decorations, anyway.”

yuji was more mature than he looked…in the aspect of fear. he was a small boy but things didn’t scare him easily. you could say he’s a risk taker outside his moments of vulnerability. choso knew that he’d might jump back behind him, tightly holding the hem his tan sweater if he saw kechizu. the male finally smiles at the pink haired boy and nods.

“you’re right. they’re fake.” choso says calmly.

as they approach the checkout area, yuji sees the food area. serving simple things like pizza, hotdogs and drinks. the stuff you’d find at a concession stand of a sports game.

“can we get a pizza?” yuji asked. choso paused. he didn’t intend on spending 13 dollars on food from a department store. he had other plans anyway.

“you sure you want that? i was gonna get you a happy meal before we went home.” the male yawned, threading his fingers through his hair. the sudden mention of a happy meal excites yuji like a child on christmas morning.

“never mind, i don’t want pizza.” itadori quickly switches. choso chuckled, knowing how easy it was to get yuji to think about his choices.

“aw, cute kid,” choso heard a voice behind him. the male whipped his head around, his brown hair following along with him, only to see you standing there with a smile.

“is this your little brother?”

choso flushed a red color when he instantly remembered your face, almost making him feel bad for not calling you or texting you since you dropped off your number to him. he was feeling slightly embarrassed.

“uh..yeah, that’s—this is yuji.” he stumbles a bit, trying not to make his embarrassment known. itadori already knows the deal, so he waves at you with a big toothy grin, making you smile and wave back at him.

“um..what’re you doing here?” choso queried, trying to spark a conversation first for once. the male was obviously nervous and you could see his cheeks reddening the more he looked at you. if you didn’t know any better, you would’ve thought he would explode right in front of your eyes.

“shopping, like everyone else,” you teased. “but really, i just gotta pick some stuff up for my mom and then i’ll be on my way.”

your eyes travel over to the shopping cart that yuji was clinging onto, looking at the halloweeny decorations and you smile.

“you don’t seem like the type to be into holidays really,” you start, “did your brother convince you?”

choso also looked at the shopping cart full of stuff and blushed even harder. he was already flustered enough. it couldn’t get any worse than this.

“oh—no..he didn’t,” he chuckled nervously, “i actually really like halloween. the scary shit—stuff…you know, the movies? they’re cool.”

you giggled at choso’s nervous attempts to speak to you about the festivities that he almost never participated in and the quick fix with his mistake of swearing in front of yuji like he wasn’t there.

“oh, so you like horror movies? yeah, you strike me as that kind of guy.” you said. you couldn’t help but notice his medium length hair, just like you had seen the other night when he was working, flowing in the wind that came through as the store doors slowly slid themselves open as customers exited the building.

the male wore an oversized tan sweater with a pair of joggers and some sneakers. you could tell this was a lazy outfit. something you’d call a ‘no one will see me’ outfit.

his eyes were tired and he had a stoic expression, aside from his profuse blushing that began to die down when he finally got the chance to relax, having his hands shoved down into his pant pockets. his irises were so pretty. a pretty shade of purple. you never seen anyone’s eyes look like his before.

the silence prolonged for a moment. the two of you suddenly ran out of things to say. this was perfectly fine for choso. he would’ve lost his mind if he had to keep talking. it wasn’t that he didn’t enjoy talking to you. he was just too scared.

but it wasn’t long before that silence was disturbed.

“my big brother really likes you. he thinks you’re pre—” itadori starts before choso swiftly covers his mouth with his significantly larger hand, making you giggle once more.

“i’m sorry about that…yuji just likes to say random stuff when the silence is too loud for him.” choso said trying to cover up his embarrassment.

“it’s okay,” you smiled at him. your words seemed to ease his nerves a bit but it wasn’t enough to completely calm him down. you glance down at your phone when you feel it vibrate against your thigh.

it’s your mom texting you, asking if you’re on your way back.

“oh, sh—shoot,” you say, quickly fixing your mistake before you actually said it. “i gotta go. my mom just texted.”

choso is quickly snapped out of his embarrassment trance and his head swings over to look at you, his hair following along.

“you’re going?” he asked. through his dead and serious expression, you could see a hint of sadness. a very small change in his usual expression. you nod.

“yeah. but listen, you should call me. you don’t have my number just to stare at it.” you remarked before hurrying off, waving at him as you did.

once you were out of his sight, his eyes quickly struck down to yuji. he looked like he wanted to scold the poor boy for publicly embarrassing him in front of you but he decided against it and his expression softened.

“let’s just get home…” the male sighed.

choso was happy it’s his day off. he got to stay home with his little brother to help decorate their home with terrifying decorations for halloween. choso couldn’t help but smile at yuji’s futile attempts to scare him with the masks from the store.

“come on, you aren’t even a little scared?” yuji removed the mask from his face and shook his head to fix his hair, which was flattened and sticking to his forehead.

“not even in the slightest.” choso chuckled before ruffling itadori’s hair lightly. “what about your friends? you try to scare them yet?”

“megumi is almost never impressed. he’s kinda lame….and out of the question.” yuji hummed. “but i can get nobara. she’s always screaming.”

“well, you can do that tomorrow,” choso yawned, “you gotta get ready for bed soon. you got school in the morning and i don’t want you to be tired and falling asleep in class.”

yuji frowned before he’d hug choso. it took a moment for choso to process the moment, given that he wasn’t too used to being hugged. choso finally hugged the boy back before smiling softly.

“i’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

yuji nodded and smiled back at his older brother before making his way to his room.

when yuji had finally gone to sleep, the house was quiet, leaving choso staring at the ceiling with his hair in disarray and an unlit cigarette between his lips all while he laid on the bed, doing maladaptive night dreaming.

‘workin out’ by JID played softly from the small radio that sat on the windowsill. his eyes slowly traveled over to the shoe box that stood out from all the other boxes in his closet. there was a bright yellow sticky note at the top with what seemed to have your phone number on it along with your name.

the male sat up on the bed and walked over to the box, snatching the sticky note from the box then walking over to his laptop that sat on the umber colored desk.

choso opened the laptop and navigated to the facetime app and decided to punch in your number. he could feel his stomach turning as the low adverb jingling sound repeated itself.

while he waited for you to answer, he’d take one of the rubber bands off of his wrist and tie his hair back, leaving his bangs to hang down in his face. he even took the time to fix the violet eyeshadow that he always had around his eyes, staining his fingers each time he touched around his eyelids. and finally, he’d press down on the bandage over his nose to make sure it was still sticking.

you suddenly pick up, finally answering choso’s call. your room was a bit dark like his, except you had your tv going on in the background. it was loud enough for choso to be able to hear.

unlike choso, you were sitting on your bed with your laptop. you had your hair tied up in twin messy buns with a little bit of your hair hanging down in your face. you wore a black spaghetti strap tank top, revealing the tattoo on your shoulder, and a pair of grey joggers with mismatch socks.

“i honestly did not hear this thing going off,” you giggled as you pushed the hair out of your face. you had been downstairs grabbing yourself a drink while choso was calling. “i’m sorry i didn’t answer right away, though.”

“oh..no, it’s fine. you aren’t busy are you?”

“no, not really. i was thinking about finishing this show i was watching. have you heard of american horror story?”

“yeah, i heard of it. i just never got around to watching it. i’d rather watch movies than an ongoing series.” choso explained simply before he’d light his cigarette. you nod, completely understanding his side.

“shit, well, what movies do you recommend? horror movies, since we’re in spooky season.” you flash a cheeky smile at him. choso’s heart skips a beat when you finally ask him what he’s interested in. he pauses and begins thinking, taking drags from his cigarette.

“there’s one movie, i can’t tell you all of em off the top of my head,” he begins, “watch midsommar. it’s kinda disturbing but you might like it.”

“is it gory horror or..?” you ask before taking a sip of your drink as you began to type in the movie name into the search bar in another tab, scrolling through websites to catch any good details about said movie.

“you’ll have to see for yourself,” choso places two of his digits around the cigarette, gently adjusting it between his lips before it could slip out. you realize the longer you talked to him, the more comfortable he seemed to be but you could still see that he was nervous.

“maybe we can see about it together,” you suggest to the male. “whenever you’re free, of course.” you add quickly. all of a sudden, choso is blushing just as he did at the store earlier that day. you thought it was kinda adorable how he could look so disinterested to suddenly flustered and scared so quickly.

“i—well..” choso stammered, “yeah, sure…uh, we can watch tomorrow night when i put my little brother to bed. i don’t want him interrupting anything.”

you giggled, “aw, he’s so cute, though. but i get it. little kids can get in the way of a lot of stuff.”

the two of you conversed for what felt like hours. your voice was soothing to choso. each time you began to speak, he just imagined you calling his name…just once.

your call with choso ended around three in the morning, and your cheeks were pink, smiling to yourself as you remembered the random conversations that you two had not too long ago.

you hadn’t felt like this about a guy in a long time. while men were usually throwing themselves at you, choso was clearly the odd one out. he was a bit shy but assertive and smart.

choso’s voice was deep as it came from the depths of the ocean but his words flowed smoothly like butter when he wasn’t tripping and fumbling with his words trying to hide his embarrassment.

his style, his personality, the way he looked. in your eyes he was perfect but there were a million things stopping you from telling him you loved him.

what if he has a girlfriend already? what if he isn’t ready for a relationship? what if he doesn’t want one? he probably just wants to be friends.

aside from all those thoughts clogging your brain, you were aware that you’d be moving to fast by throwing that L word around loosely when you just met him a couple days ago.

“damn it.” choso sighed to himself.

‘you’re falling for her…but you don’t have time for her. what’re you doing?’ choso was beating himself up about the whole entire situation. another cigarette is taken out of the pack and lightened as he tried to calm his anxiety and spiraling thoughts.

he was going crazy. he didn’t know what he would do. he wanted you out of his head. he was starting to feel stupid for letting you swoon him as easily as you did at the bar.

part of him wished he never met you…

but he needed more of you.

𝐄𝐍𝐃.

⋆｡࿇ ·࣭࣪̇˖ 𖦹°༅༚

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chloesolace · 9 months

Text

False God - Patron!Raphael x Warlock!Reader

summary: Raphael has been your patron for quite a while, yet you have always tried to avoid him as much as you could. He has somehow always intimidated you, while you tried to block out your growing attraction to him. It certainly doesn't help that you seem to be his favorite client. When he catches you inside the House of Hope archive, tired from having studied a tome all day, he decides to finally give in to the tension between you and help you release some of it, too.

pairing: Raphael x reader

word count: 3.8k

warnings: smut with devil form, penetration, Raphael has a lil crush on you

a/n: Part of my Swift series, where I write one shots inspired by Taylor's songs. This one is based on the song of the same name <3 and btw, I think we all are kind of ignoring the canon when it comes to Raphael fics.... right? I'm thinking of making this into an actual fanfiction (the patron x warlock thing). Lmk if this is something you'd be interested in. Please also remember I'm asexual so pls excuse any mistakes with the smut!!

Masterlist - Discord Server - Request Info - Taylor Swift Series

Hell is when I fight with you But we can patch it up good Make confessions and we're begging for forgiveness Got the wine for you

The smell of sulfur invaded your nostrils as you entered through the large, heavy door, held open for you by two damned souls, their expressions void of emotion. You had long grown accustomed to them, but some still managed to send shivers down your spine when you looked at them: their empty eyes, as if made of cold glass, their sunken mouths, and their bruised limbs showcasing the labor they were damned to perform for all eternity.

You did not often imagine yourself in their stead, but you could not deny that the voices that had warned you against making a deal with a cambion ghosted through your mind at times. Mostly at night, when everything was quiet, and you had nothing to drown out your thoughts.

Sometimes, you even had nightmares, though you would never admit to it. They were frightening in ways a mere broken contract could not cause; a mirror of your soul, and deepest desires. You knew better than to talk about it, even though you sometimes felt like he could smell them nonetheless.

Your steps echoed through the foyer, your gaze fixed on the path before you as you tried to tune out what was happening around you. Erratic whispers and aimless gazes followed you as you made your way to the feast hall, the smell of freshly cooked food replacing the stench of sulfur in your nose. The table was eternally set, and the food would never spoil.

Without giving it much thought, you walked past it until you reached the archive, a place where you spent most of your time whenever you visited the House of Hope, as rare as those occasions might have been. He had offered you the use of some artifacts and books, but you had always felt a sense of dread when you entered his House. And then there was of course the boudoir, which you avoided like the plague. You knew what was behind that door, unfortunately. It was hard to visit the House of Hope at least two times and not know about Haarlep. It was a thorn in your side for reasons that flustered you when you did as much as think of them.

Focusing on the book you came for, you entered the archive, offering the fiendish librarian a faint nod as you walked around him to reach one of the bookshelves. Not wanting to spend more time here than necessary, you quickly browsed through the leather-bound spines, reading the letters on them so fast that you sometimes had to go back and reread them.

“A rare sight, I must admit.”

You had not spent fifteen minutes looking when you heard Raphael’s voice behind you, turning your head to look at him. He stood before you in his human form, arms crossed, and eyes studying you quietly. Clasping your hands behind your back, you replied, “Hello, Raphael. I didn’t know you were home.”

“I do not exactly share my schedule with you, (y/n),” he replied matter-of-factly, walking over to an armchair with calculated steps before letting himself sink into it.

“Yes, I did not mean to imply otherwise,” you said, cheeks flushing a bit.

Raphael stroked his chin with two fingers, eyes settled on you as you turned back to the bookshelf and your quest to find a certain tome. An awkward pause followed, and as much as you tried to keep your attention on the books, feeling his presence behind you was overwhelming.

“I am glad to see you are finally taking up on my offer to make use of my library. Your growing powers are beneficial to me too, after all.”

You heard him shift in his seat; he had crossed his legs, but you did not turn to face him since you finally found what you were looking for. The tome was very high up, but you could clearly read the golden letters on its spine: Grimoire of Arcane Aegis.

Embarrassed, you stretched your arm to reach for the book, visibly struggling. Why did these books have to be so heavy and so high up?

Steps sounded behind you, and you froze as you suddenly felt him standing right next to you, arms crossed. You swallowed, turning your head to look up at him. He smelled like an even more intense mixture of sulfur and leather and the moment you met his eyes, you were reminded why you usually avoided eye contact with him. It was very hard to look away.

Keeping his eyes locked with yours, he reached out for the tome and let it slip into his hand effortlessly before holding it out for you to take.

Your gaze dropped to the book momentarily before resettling on his eyes. Muttering a ‘thank you,’ you took it, quickly raising your other hand to help support its weight. You had expected it to be heavy, but certainly not that heavy.

“You're quite welcome,” he said, a hint of amusement in his voice. “Enchantment is a useful skill. Though it is one I did not expect you to want to learn.”

Pressing the book to your chest, you shrugged your shoulders, letting your eyes wander around the archive aimlessly. “I figured taking control over an enemy’s body would be beneficial in one way or another.”

He narrowed his eyes slightly, the smile still playing on his lips. “That does not only apply to enemies.”

You were just about to open the tome when you froze, the color in your cheeks deepening as you swallowed. Clearing your throat, you turned on your heel and walked over toward a desk far to your right, where you laid the open book down.

Briefly, you looked at Raphael over your shoulder while your hand rested on the open page. “Well, thank you for allowing me to make use of your archive.”

“I am quite surprised you have never made use of it before,” he remarked, pacing behind you as he watched you read the letters written in elegant handwriting on the worn-out pages. There were stains here and there and sigils you did not understand yet. But you would learn.

Raphael tilted his head to the side, coming to a halt right behind you. He gazed over your shoulder down at the paper, his breath hot in the nape of your neck.

“Are you avoiding me, (y/n)? Because I would expect a little more gratitude for lending you my powers and knowledge.”

You gulped, pressing your lips together as you placed your hands on the desk, using it to support your weight a little. Your knees suddenly felt very weak.

“I remember when I met you first,” he said, his voice lower than before. “You were an interesting case. Powerless in a world filled with magic and creatures stronger than you could ever fathom. Yet your determination to save your beloved persisted. A shame he took it for granted.”

Tears stung your eyes as you stared at the pages before you, not even reading them. Partially because of how your mind wandered, and partially because of your blurred vision. You really did not need to be reminded of how the person you had sold your soul for abandoned you the moment his life was safe again.

“Revenge is a powerful motivator to harness new abilities.”

You sucked in a breath as you turned to face your patron, taken aback for a moment by how close he was, trapping you between himself and the desk behind you. Only now did you notice how the other souls and fiends who had been here when you entered must have left now, perhaps intimidated by their master’s presence.

“I feel nothing for him anymore,” you finally stated emotionlessly, your expression neutral as your eyes jumped between his.

“That is not the truth, is it?” His question was sarcastic, if anything. “You feel hatred for him. And regret. I can see the burning anger behind your eyes.” He suddenly inched closer, grabbing the edge of the desk behind you with his hands, fully preventing your escape now.

“And what would you have me do about it?” you whispered, tilting your head up so you could keep looking at him, while you leaned away from him, your hands threatening to touch since they still rested on it for support.

The corner of Raphael’s mouth twitched as he cocked his head, his eyes twinkling. Your nervousness seemed to be very entertaining to him, and you cursed yourself for the way your heart began to race as his gaze dropped to your lips for just a second.

He was toying with you; you were sure of it. It was the reason you avoided visiting his House of Hope anyway, and why you dreaded when he decided to visit you. However, it was in your contract. Raphael was allowed to pay you a visit whenever he pleased to ask for a favor if he needed one, in exchange for your magical abilities.

“Perhaps, for a start,” he said, and you could feel the vibrations of his voice on your skin, “make more use of my library. I do not have to offer it to you, but I am choosing to. And I would certainly appreciate it if you would not take it for granted.”

You swallowed, shifting slightly, which caused your hand to brush against his. Sucking in a breath, you quickly pulled it away.

“Think about it, (y/n),” he said, straightening his back again, releasing you from the entrapment, which allowed you to finally relax your muscles. You looked at him for a moment more before he disappeared behind a whirlwind of flaming hot air.

—

You had spent the past days studying tomes in the House of Hope’s archive, diving deep into the knowledge they offered. It was not because of him or his invitation, but you knew he wouldn't believe it, so there was no use in arguing.

He did not check on you once, much to your relief, but still, you could not ignore the hint of disappointment hiding deep inside you. If someone had asked you whether you even just liked your patron, you would have said no. He owned you, or at least your soul for that matter. The difference was almost nonexistent.

You had put your hair up in a high ponytail, bound by a black piece of leather. Still, after hours of studying and burying your hands in your hair when you felt stuck, a few strands had loosened and were now framing your face in a quite inelegant manner.

With sleep-drunken eyes, you traced the edge of the tome in front of you with a finger. You had pulled a chair in front of the desk, but after having sat on it for hours, your back ached.

Rubbing your neck, you lifted one side of the open book and let it fall shut with a loud thud, louder than you had anticipated. It startled you, momentarily waking you from a state of half-sleep.

The House was quiet. Although time passed differently here, there were still moments when activity inside of it decreased, and it felt like a proper day-night cycle, at least for Hell standards.

“Still here?” You turned your head, startled, to find Raphael standing there.

“It would be nice if you stopped sneaking up on me,” you said, stretching your aching muscles a bit. You would have stood from your chair, but you were too tired for formalities. Raphael had never minded much, to your surprise. You believed it was because he knew that you were afraid and wary of him anyway. He did not need proof of it. Though despite your relaxed stance, you were very much on your guard.

“I was told you have been here for hours,” he said, ignoring your remark purposefully. “A tired mind cannot comprehend newly learned information that well. You should rest.”

You scoffed. If you did not know better, you would have thought he was genuinely worried about you, but you were sure that the real reason for this was purely a logical one. Namely, the explanation he had just given you.

With your hand on your shoulder, you looked up at him, smiling faintly. You hoped he wouldn’t see that it was not a sincere smile, but he must have been used to your feigned politeness by now. After all, it was something you had been taught from childhood.

“Sorry,” you replied, rubbing your neck. “I’ll leave. I didn’t mean to overstay my welcome.” The words came out automatically, as if memorized and said a thousand times before. Raphael raised a hand, gesturing for you to remain seated.

“No need to apologise, (y/n).” He approached you, eyes locked with yours until he came to a halt right in front of you. The flame dancing inside the fireplace to your left crackled; the only sound filling the archive now. The fire cast shadows on his face, while he raised his hand and let it linger between you in the air, as if he was not sure whether to proceed.

You looked up at him, lips slightly parted as you held onto the backrest of your chair. Your breath was shallow, the intensity of his gaze resting heavily upon you.

“You don’t need to leave, either,” he added as he finally closed the distance and trapped your chin between his index finger and thumb, turning your head up so you had to look at him, whether you wanted to or not. You swallowed and blinked at him, your cheeks hot.

Your heart was hammering in your chest as you felt him trace the edge of your jawline until he reached your cheek, cupping it firmly, yet not strong enough for it to hurt.

The implication in his voice made it hard for you to breathe, partially due to anticipation, and partially because you were scared of what would happen if you refused. He had never been rude to you, or threatened you in any truly concerning way. After all, your loyalty and soul were worth something to him. And still, you had never put your guard down before.

“What are you saying?” You asked breathlessly, gripping the backrest of your chair so tightly that your knuckles turned white. You did not want to risk a misunderstanding.

“You could stay in my bed tonight. I've seen the look in your eye. I've heard the way your heart beats when I'm near.” His hand slid down from your cheek, briefly touching your bottom lip with his thumb, before he reached your chest. He pressed it against you, right between your breasts where your heartbeat could be felt. It quickened again, which made him smirk faintly.

“There.”

You swallowed, wetting your dry throat as you tried to keep your mind clear, but it was hard when his presence was so mesmerizing.

Jaw clenched, you narrowed your eyes slightly and said, “I thought your bed was occupied by Haarlep.”

It was not a question, but an observation.

You did not know where the courage had come from, most likely the lack of sleep, but you could see that something in his gaze shifted at the mention of the demon’s name.

Raphael crouched down beside you, pulling his hand away only to offer you his open palm. Now you were looking down at him, resisting the temptation to bury your hand in his brown hair.

“I dream of you, (y/n),” he whispered, his fingers curling as he looked up at you. “I had not thought it possible for a mortal to occupy so much space in my mind, following me even to my dreams. Haunting me with words that linger in the air unspoken.”

“Are you mocking me?” Your voice was an octave higher than usual, your hand shaking slightly as he traced circles over the back of it. Then, he shook his head faintly, hand tightening around yours.

“I am confessing.”

You inhaled sharply, seeing no sign of deception in his eyes, but beings like him excelled at it, so you could not trust even the sincerity in his eyes.

This was a dangerous game you were playing, and you knew it. How could this ever work with a contract quite literally binding your soul to him? But you were in no state to make judgments, let alone good ones.

You raised your hand toward him, brushing a strand of hair from his temple. He reacted, closing his eyes at your touch as if he had in fact been anticipating it for a long time. You left your hand there, gently touching his cheek when he opened his eyes again to meet yours.

Lips slightly parted, and with newfound confidence, you let yourself slide from the chair down into his lap, straddling him on the cold stone floor. You saw him suck in a breath, eyes flickering between yours.

Behind him, the flame was dancing to a rhythm not yet set, illuminating your face for him to see each scar that marked it; one on your forehead, two on your cheeks, and a small one on your chin. Without the light, most of them would not have even been visible.

Raphael reached out, letting his index finger run over the scar that stretched from your eyebrow to your cheekbone. You had to close your eyes when he reached your lid and opened it again only when he stopped at your cheek.

“Where did you get it from?” He asked, sitting up a little straighter so that your breath mixed between you. You smelled of forest and morning dew, almost entirely muted by his scent of smoke and leather.

“Bandits,” you replied, your noses touching as you rested your hands on his shoulders. “I was lucky to get away with only this scar.” He hummed in response, his hand finding its way into your hair.

“No need to ever fear mere bandits again,” he said and your lips briefly touched as he spoke. Raphael’s gaze dropped to your mouth, and before you could even say anything in return, he pressed his lips to yours.

You pulled yourself closer towards him, feeling the growing pressure against you from underneath. You smirked, liking the effect you had on him. It was then that you realized how Raphael, a powerful being in his own right and heir to Mephistopheles himself, was mere butter in your hands. Perhaps you had been wrong to be so afraid of him the whole time.

You pushed him to the ground so that he was lying on his back with you sitting on his waist, hands pressed against his chest. The fear, if you could even call it that, which you had previously felt was gone now. Fingers brushing against his cheek you said, “You can turn, Raphael. You don’t need to hide.”

He looked up at you, his expression unreadable. You already thought you had said something wrong and felt panic build up in your chest when you saw his horns and wings materialize underneath you. His skin was flaming hot in color now, his eyes burning like two orbs of fire against an endless void.

You brushed across one of his horns, feeling the hard material on your fingers as his wings gently enveloped you, the leathery material tingling your shoulders where they were exposed.

Then, you grabbed his horn and pressed yourself against his body, uniting your lips in a hungry kiss. You, too, had dreamed of him on multiple occasions, a mixture of nightmares and wet dreams, and though you were still wary of the cambion underneath you, you could not help losing yourself in the process.

Trousers were unbuckled, and he dug his clawed fingers into your side when you lifted your hips a bit to throw your clothes away, your eyes always staying locked with his.

“You are eager, aren’t you?” He said, his hands playing with the hem of your undergarments while he smiled, amusement marking his features and voice. “Days ago you could barely look at me.”

Rocking your hips back and forth you stared down at him, bottom lip trapped between your teeth. “Because it was hard not to imagine this each time I did,” you whispered, leaning forward so you could wrap your hand around the erection.

He gasped, exposing his sharp canines as you guided him to the wetness between your legs. With your hand wrapped around his horn, he wrapped his wings tighter around you, holding you in place, as he rolled over so that he was now on top, majestic wings spread out before you. They were large and reminded you of those of a bat.

You had still wrapped your hands around his horns, now both of them, which forced him to keep his head close to yours. He picked up where you left off, matching the rhythm you had set before as his hand came to cup one of your breasts. His sharp nails dug into the sensitive skin around your nipple, causing you to gasp for air, before it settled between your legs, gently playing with the sensitive piece of flesh there.

With each thrust that he did, you felt a stronger need to hold onto him. You let go of one of his horns to wrap your arm around his shoulders, only opening your eyes when you felt his on you. It felt as if his flaming irises could see deep inside the soul you had sold to him, your eyes held captive by them.

You did not know whether this was too personal, whether you were crossing a line, but you leaned forward and pressed your forehead against his, feeling the thin layer of sweat that had formed on his skin, around his horns, and the hard bone that grew from his head like a crown.

When you finally felt like you were close to your climax, you kissed him again, silencing a loud moan that would have otherwise been heard even outside the archive, you were sure.

The thrusting stopped and you held each other for a moment, catching your breaths. He had propped himself up, his hand resting on the ground next to your head as he sat up straight, exiting you in the process. Sweat glistened on his red torso, highlighted by the fire still burning behind you and you smiled softly as he offered you a hand.

You took it, momentarily startled when he pulled you towards him with force, using his wings once again to hold you in place.

“That was a good start,” he whispered, brushing a loose strand of hair out of your face. “But perhaps we should take this to the boudoir now?”

A hint of hesitation crossed your face and you averted your gaze, but he placed a hand under your chin and forced you to look at him again. “Do not worry, my dear. Haarlep is of no use to me anymore.”

We might just get away with it The altar is my hips Even if it's a false god We'd still worship this love

#raphael bg3 #raphael x reader #raphael x tav #raphael baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 x reader #raphael bg3 x reader #raphael x reader lemon

65 notes · View notes

fariesoiree · 10 months

Text

LEMON TART!

caution! mdni! 11k wrdz, bie is a little bit obsessed with you, he is also a bit ooc :3, black reader <3, fem reader, someone tries to steal your car, pet names, sexual themes, fingering, oral ( f receiving ), overstimulation but barely, you get spanked like once, use of the word cunt, cunny, pussy, i mention you having something pink like eleven billion times bc i luv pink, yes i do add links for outfits but you can totes ignore them, think that’s all lmk if i missed smthing pls do not spam like my blog if you enjoyed it, feel free to tell me in the reblogs

The day he first laid eyes on you, he knew he wanted you.

You’re on your way home from your pilates class, blissfully unaware of the interested eyes on you. Dressed in a baby pink athletic set and glistening with the sheen of sweat, you take a swig of water from the matching pink bottle. The keys to your gray Jaguar convertible dangle at your fingertips.

Truthfully, Hobie doesn’t visit that area much. He’s only there to cure his boredom, in search of a quick fix. When there isn’t a lot of crime to stop or he decides that day he simply doesn’t care enough, he sits in shopping centers. He likes to play this little game and see how many kids he could keep from running into the street without their parents’ watchful eyes.

He has just gotten comfy on his perch after “saving” his third child when he spots you walking out the glass doors of some overpriced gym. The way the sun bounces off your melanated skin almost makes you seem saintly. He swears he even hears angelic singing in the background. Hobie can’t seem to keep his eyes off you while you prance into your car. His chest tugs when you disappear from his sight, seated behind tinted windows. He almost chases after you when you drive off, disappearing into the crowd of other civilians living their mundane lives.

Hobie finds himself having to restrain himself, gripping the ledge of the building. He is already hated in the public eye. No one appreciates his borderline heroic acts, although he wouldn’t call it that himself. They don’t even appreciate the riots he starts in the name of a better world. He couldn’t count the amount of times he’s saved the public from disastrous events but they didn’t care and he didn’t mind. Hobie actually prefers to deviate from what was accepted but he fells this would be too far. To follow an innocent woman on her way home? He would never cross that line, in costume or not.

Instead, he opts for visiting this location every Wednesday at 10:27 AM. Just ten minutes before your class would be released and you’d walk out wearing some cute color that made you look tempting. Each time, you’d be glowing with the aftereffects of a workout and each time he’d have to restrain himself from tailing you. It was his routine. He’d always be in his spot and you’d always be in yours, lives never intersecting.

Until.

Wednesday at 10:24 AM, Hobie sits in his spot. Sometimes he’d look off in the distance and daydream about your future together, sometimes he’d stare at the glass windows and hope to catch a glimpse of you on your way out. It’s just as sunshiney as any other day, the birds accompanying his thoughts of euphoria to spend forever with you.

He kicks his feet over the side of the ledge and swings them aimlessly. Time couldn’t pass any slower, could it? Keeping you from each other, from maybe possibly crossing paths just this once. The thought made him smile. As if you’d ever cross paths. Too many risks with that one.

His eyes land on a man wandering in the parking lot. There is nothing particularly interesting about him but Hobie still feels that itch in his palms, the tickle on the back of his neck. He tilts his head to the side and observes the man slowly making his way through the parking lot. He seems to take a particular interest in the cars across the street. The man never actually touches the cars. He just takes a peak at the back of them, maybe the rear window. It can easily be mistaken for searching for his car in the lot but there isn’t that much traffic. Not to mention, Hobie has enough practice to know better.

He watches the man take one final peak at a familiar gray convertible. So familiar he could spout the license plate off the top of his head or point out the Hello Kitty sticker on the bumper in a room full of them.

Sure Hobie would have swung over even if it wasn’t your car but he couldn’t ignore the intense tug at his heart. He fwips his web over to a light pole and jumps off the building without a second thought. To be honest, he didn’t truly have a plan. The only sound he can hear is the rushing blood in his head and the alarm bells ringing at the back of his brain. Hobie knows he has to stop him and that’s all he has going for him.

“What’cha up to here, man.” He lands on the pavement behind the man, hands on his hips and gesturing to the scene. “Anything I can help with?”

The man’s head snaps up to meet Spider Punk's eyes. He licks his lips and his hand drops hesitantly to his back pocket. “I can’t find the keys to my car and I wanted to see if the doors were unlocked, you know? New technology and this whole push to start thing.”

“Mmm.” Hobie leans forward and peers inside the windows. While he already knew the small details you allowed him indirect access to, he didn’t need everyone else knowing Spider-punk has an infatuation. “You drive a car with a pink steering wheel cover and princess sticker on the dashboard? No judgment.”

The man only huffs. He bucks up to Hobie, nearly shoving him out the way to get to the door handle. “Listen man, I’m just trying to get in my car. What’s it to you? It’s not yours.”

“No but it’s mine.”

Both heads turn to spot you, standing a safe distance away. Your eyebrows are knit together and you're gripping your similarly pink gym bag. You’re wearing a gray set today, hair slicked back and tied down with a matching gray scarf. “What is going on here?”

You feel a burning feeling in your heart, accompanied with the bubbling anxiousness prickling your skin and causing you to sweat a bit more. “What are you doing to my car?”

“Fucking hell.” The man grumbles distastefully. He doesn’t get a chance to run away, already being blasted against the neighboring car and restrained by thick webs. His body is sure to leave a small dent on the door but everyone knows Spider Punk isn’t exactly neat with his approach.

You look accusingly between Hobie and the perpetrator. Of course the one in the getup wasn’t trying to commit grand theft auto but that doesn’t mean he couldn’t have hurt your baby. You paid a pretty penny for her and it isn’t like he has the best track record. “What are you doing?” You restate from your safe spot.

Hobie’s mouth goes dry. Absolutely dry. If he tries to say anything right now the only thing that will leave his lips will be embarrassing squeaks. He is usually so much more composed than this. It isn’t like he doesn’t have women flocking to him constantly and occasionally, he does entertain them. He has enough life experience to run a brothel and here he is, getting cotton mouthed at the pretty girl he’s been watching for the last few weeks.

A breeze blows by and he gets a whiff of vanilla.

“Well?”

“I . . . uh . . . I caught him trying to break in so I intercepted. I didn’t know it was yours. You might want to call the police.”

“Oh my gosh, of course.” You reach into the front pocket to pull out your phone. How fitting to have a bedazzled case, pink and silver in a gleaming heart. “Did he get in or take anything or break anything? I don’t know what to do. I’ve never had anyone steal my car before. Do I need to call my lawyer? Are we going to court or something?” You’re rambling and rushing, messily punching in the numbers. Your heartbeat is finally starting to dull but the warm rushing has yet to cease.

“You have a lawyer?” He supposes it makes sense. Although most people he knows don't have a lawyer on call, you would be someone who would. You must come from an affluent family with the whole driving Jaguars and having lawyers thing.

You pause, sniffing a bit. “Yeah…?” You sideways glance to nothing before meeting his eyes again.

There is a beat of silence between you both.

“Right. Anyway, no. He didn’t take anything. I’ve been patrolling the area and caught him before he did. Just, uh, finish up calling the police and report this guy.” Hobie felt kind of naked. He may have been fully dressed but he is itching to find somewhere to put his hands. Unfortunately, he doesn’t have his jacket to hide them in so he crosses his arms instead.

“No, yeah. I will. Thank you so much. Is there something I can do to repay you? I feel a bit stupid and I left my car unlocked. I could, like, give you cash or something? You could get lunch.”

Oh, you’re just as sweet up close. The slight concern and guilt in your eyes. The way they sparkle and dance across his mask. Maybe you are trying to figure out who he is or engrave this moment in your memory like he is.

“Nah, don’t worry about it. I don’t need your money. I don’t take people’s money anyway.” He’s not quite sure if it conveys through the mask but he smiles. Gentle and honest. “Jus’ stay out of trouble and lock your doors, yeah?”

You dip your head sheepishly. How humiliating it is to have a crimestopper tell you something so obvious. It makes your stomach churn with embarrassment and your cheeks flush with warmth but you acknowledge his warning. It’s hard not to when he said it in such a buttery voice. You wonder if he looks as good as he sounds.

Hobie takes this opportunity to make a smooth exit, swinging away into the distance with his heart in his ears and a ridiculous grin on his face. He feels like a kid in the candy shop all over again. Except instead of being presented with a bunch of different options, he is presented with his favorite option.

It’s unbelievable that the previous parallel life lines finally crossed. Sure, it’s due to circumstances Hobie prefer you never experienced but they crossed nevertheless. He saved the girl of his dreams from the big bad monster and saw her smile mere steps away. Got to see the radiant aura you emit and the brilliant warmth that just has to have an effect on everyone around you.

That must be the reason you were targeted today. Even the worst people can’t ignore the huge target on your back. They are drawn in by the invisible tiara on your head and the glow of your cheeks. They can feel there was a princess in their presence and feel desperate to tear that innocence apart. That just won’t do. Hobie has to protect you from their rotten doings. You are untouchable, too perfect to be tainted. He can’t risk their dirt and grime coming near you. Sure, he feels somewhat obligated to protect everyone but there is no one at greater risk than you. No one as flawless, as pure.

You are clearly too silly to take care of yourself and you should be. The world should bend at your will and do what you want. It is foolish to expect you to look over your shoulder or lift a finger for your wellbeing. Someone should do that for you and that someone should be him.

₊ ⊹.𖥔 ݁ ˖

You appear to be completely oblivious to the outside world, too busy aiding your stumbling friend out of the club and into the Uber with one hand on her back and the other holding her hand. Her heels are long gone and in the hands of your other friend. All of your attention is completely devoted to her wellbeing but you can’t ignore the nagging feeling on the back of your neck.

It’s been there the past few days and only makes you feel more paranoid. There has been a sudden spike in Spider Punk appearances near you, a sudden spike in dangerous situations you have found yourself in. It’s as if you can’t take five steps out of your apartment without Spider Punk swinging through to save civilians from dangers you weren’t previously aware of. In some situations, it’s you.

Once again, you give the world behind you a fleeting look over your shoulder. As usual, you are only greeted with traffic and the night sky, full of glistening stars. See? You’re just being ludicrous. There’s no crazed monster trailing you and there is no need to feel so paranoid.

“☆,” your friend is whining in your ear. Her head is slumped over and rolling, accompanied by her groans. “I feel like I’m going to throw up.”

“Oh, please don’t.” You let go of her hand to lift her head. Your eyes met hers, glazed from tears and bloodshot. “It would be so much better if you waited until we got you home.” You pat her cheek in hopes the feeling will distract her drunken mind from the sloshing alcohol in her stomach. It’s a weak attempt however it’s still an attempt. “If you throw up, they won’t let you in the car.”

Lottie can only cry out in irritation. “I am never going to drink alcohol ever again. It feels like Satan’s ass is in my stomach.” Her head lolls onto your shoulder. Her blonde locs are draped all over you and you indulge in the small amount of warmth provided.

“Don’t worry about it, ☆. I can get her home by myself. You live in the other direction and I’m staying over there tonight, anyway.” Rico has to look over Lottie’s shriveled form to meet your eyes. She looks apologetic about her girlfriend’s condition but you shrug it off and shake your head.

“No, it’s okay. I want to make sure you guys get home safe and Lottie is gone. I don’t mind, really.” You’re almost insistent when you tell her. As concerned as you sound, deep down you know it is truly because you don’t want to go home on your own. You can’t shake the feeling that someone has their eyes on you from a distance and the last thing you want was to walk home on a busy night, alone.

Rico pulls the black Honda’s door open and ushers Lottie inside as smoothly as she can. “You’re such a sweetheart but you really don’t have to. We live thirty minutes in the opposite direction and these prices are obnoxious at this time of night. Just go home and call me as soon as you get there.”

You purse your lips. You have no intention of spending any money tonight to get home. You already spent the last of what you could to get in the club. You are just waiting for your dad to send you your weekly allowance. You can admit, you are a bit dumb with your money and your rules but can you really be to blame? You were born with a gold spoon in your month and no conception of how money works. Between lavish parties with socialites and getting anything you’ve ever asked for, you don’t have the best idea of what the world is like. However, your allowance is for fun and your paychecks are for household expenses. Is it your fault that you make much more in your allowance and could blow through it in a week if you wanted? Not at all.

“Okay,” you provide Rico with a less than satisfying tight smile. “Text me when you get home, Ri. I’ll drop your stuff off tomorrow. And let me know how Lottie is doing. Her hangover is gonna be insane.”

Rico is barely concerned with responding back. She’s both trying to wriggle her way into the car without disturbing the drunken girl and get them both safely buckled and situated. “M’kay. I’ll call you.”

“Bye, ☆! I love you so much!” The producer of the shriek is leaning against the coolness of the opposite window, reaching out symbolically to grab you. “You’re one of my best friends in the entire world and I don’t know what I would do withou –”

“Okay, bye!” Rico glances at you apologetically for the last time. Then, the door is slammed. The last you see is her hand comfortingly patting against her girlfriend’s thigh.

You watch the car drive away and sigh as a chill settles under your skin. Of course you don’t realize how truly cold it was outside until the warmth of your night has disappeared down the street. Not to mention what shots you did consume wore off the moment Lottie went off the rails. No longer could you enjoy your buzz. Instead, you have to get her home.

It ‘s a bit comical. Being marginally afraid of getting home alone on Halloween night. To be honest, this isn’t really how you planned your night to go. You were supposed to go out tonight with your friends and return back home with a guy. You were the tightest top you had with the smallest skirt you could find on purpose but now you are regretting it, standing on the sidewalk in fifty degree weather. And still, that sick, creeping feeling is nestled on the nape of your neck.

You scrunch your face in displeasure before starting your trek home. Fortunately, your luxury apartment was only fifteen minutes away and the city was still very much active. The only reason you feel an inkling of nervousness is due to the unusual feeling.

Your arms are tightly wrapped around yourself and you brush it off. It has to be nothing. There is no way you have such a persistent stalker who follows you everywhere. Sure, that is the definition of a stalker but it can’t happen to you, can it? It can’t. You simply won’t allow it.

You mumble about your irritation and tilt your gaze to the sky. The stars were beautiful but there was just something off about tonight. Maybe not in the sky but it feels like something is going to happen. As if you’re waiting to be a piece in a climatic story.

You grunt when someone brushes against you a bit too hard and meet the eyes of someone caught just as off guard as you.

“Sorry,” you speak in passing. Immediately after you find yourself cursing at yourself for being so careless. Pay attention when you walk. It’s a rule as old as time and naturally, you have a hard time following it.

You stop to take a break, maybe get out of your head. You’re leaning against the brick wall and pull out your phone. Perhaps it would be better to walk with some music. Keep you distracted from losing your mind over nothing. Or maybe not. Walking with noise in your ears while being paranoid, post robbery? Probably not a good idea.

Your fingers are fumbling across your phone screen. At this point, you’re ready to drop an extra band just to get an Uber. Already, you’re shivering from lack of physical activity. Occasionally, you can feel the weird glances from passing men, spotting a nearly vulnerable girl on the edge of sidewalk.

You’re just about to confirm your ride when a familiar tattered suit begins a slow stride towards you. Like a stunned idiot, anxious out of her mind, you squint at him. Not that you need particular aid seeing such a detailed and colorful suit, but it is a bit difficult to tell if that was the true Spider Punk or if a superfan decided to spend their entire savings on a high quality costume.

Fortunately for you, you got your confirmation.

“Yo? Aren’t you the girl with the car? The really nice one?”

“Huh?”

His voice is velvet in your ears, almost melting away your nervousness. Is it because he’s saved you in the past or because you just found yourself especially enamored by the richness of it all?

“Like, two weeks ago. Didn’t I help you out with your car and that guy?” As if you were longtime friends, Spider Punk strolls up to you. His hands are snug comfortably in the pockets in his fashionably tattered vest and for the first time, it truly registers just how tall he is.

You have to tilt your head up to view him, almost completely and it makes you feel particularly shy. Your words get caught in your throat, although you’re aware of the increasing time ticking between his question and your delayed response.

Spider Punk doesn’t fill the silence, however. He simply stands there with his head cocked to the side. His patience doesn’t help your fragile grasp on your sanity.

“Oh, uh yeah. Probably. I decided to press charges n’ stuff.” You wet your lips and turn your head away. At this rate, you are going to explode. This is overwhelming, stressful. You should be home right now. “What are you doing walking around? I thought superheroes weren’t supposed to be in public, like that.”

“Ah,” you see him turn his face to the sky and a chuckle leaves his lips. Even if you can’t see his face, you know he’s smiling. It’s obvious in how his mask pulls. “I never said I was a superhero, sweetheart. I just like protecting the people I care about.”

Your eyes meet again but instead of feeling flustered, you’re facing him with confusion. Was there an undertone or did he happen to be in the right place at the right time? “Oh. Okay. That’s cool.”

He doesn’t allow for a second of silence, springing the next question onto you almost immediately. “What are you doing here? It’s getting a bit late and pretty girls like you should be at home out of harm's way.”

“I . . . what?”

There’s another patience silence. Clearly, he isn’t interested in your stumbling and stuttering. You’re getting the point, now.

“I’m on my way home but I’m a bit shaken up. I’ve never been in that type of confrontation before.” Admittedly, you haven’t experienced any confrontation. Rich girl living in a bubble and assuming she is untouchable. Pretty typical. It isn’t something you would admit to most people. Had it been anyone else, anyone who hasn’t seen some pretty crazy crimes, you would have just chalked it up to anxiety due to lack of sleep.

“Mmm,” Spider Punk takes a glance over his shoulder. Considering the night, no one is paying any attention to him. Like you, they assume he put a ton of hard work into that costume. “Would you like me to escort you back home? I’m just patrolling, anyway.”

“I thought you do this for people you care about.” Your smile is slow growing, both from the reassurance that he’ll be able to work as your bodyguard for the passing moments and to lighten the mood.

“I do.”

“Oh.” It wavered just as slowly as it developed.

“I can do both. Like I said, I’m just patrolling.” He shrugs. His hands are drawn from his pockets and gently guide you to begin your journey to your apartment. Although you can’t see it, you can feel the size on the small of your back. If he truly wanted, he could probably crush your skull. The thought itself isn’t all that attractive but when it leads to other suggestions on where he could put them or what he could do with them is where the real fun begins.

The walk back is voiceless. Sounds of the city fill the space where a conversation would be. You feel twitchy, hyper aware of the situation. There’s probably a serious conflict happening somewhere, and here you are hogging safety all to yourself.

“You really don’t have to do this. I can make it home myself or get a ride or something.” You twirl a passion twist around your finger, narrowing in on the loose ends slowly unraveling. That nagging feeling is gone with him by your side.

He nods and you miss his eyes lingering on the top of your head, slowly raking over your form and drinking in the details. “You probably can. I’ve been swinging through, though and you’ve been in the same spot for five minutes.” The pale green color of your top looks alluring on your skin, along with the pink flowers decorating the hem. Oh, how angelic you are. “What are you supposed to be?”

Your refusal to look and acknowledge him doesn’t go unnoticed but he doesn’t press about it. In his eyes, this is a rare opportunity to burn you and your absoluteness into his memory. He’s only been able to hear the sweetness of your voice twice now, directed to him. Stolen conversations and hidden glances weren’t truly enough.

“Nothing special. A sprite or an elf or something. I haven’t decided yet.” You’re looking at your own Halloween costume now. A bit silly to not know what you were after parading around in it but it’s cute and that’s all that matters. The night is over, any and it’s not like anyone is truly that curious. “What are you doing walking around? I know you said you’re patrolling but aren’t you concerned about being followed?”

“Eh,” the thought really rolls off his shoulders, “look around. There’s dozens of me everywhere. They’d have to go and target every single one and no one wants to do that. Too busy celebrating with their families or being miserable they don’t have one.”

The conversation kind of dies there. It gets a bit awkward, walking side by side with someone you barely met. Little do you know, Spider Punk knows you like the back of his hand. He’s practically vibrating with excitement. Of course, he planned to insert himself into your life eventually but tonight was not the way he thought it would go. However, it’s better than he imagined. Walking his favorite girl to the safety of her living space, although he already knew where you live.

He’s been there almost every night, perched on the ledge of the roof of the building across the street. He knows he said he wouldn’t but that’s where you are most vulnerable. There, he would sit, watching you walk here and there, dilly dally through your night routine. Finally, when you would get comfortable under the plush duvet and set your phone down on your nightstand is when he’d consider leaving. He’d make his departure only when you are sound asleep, drifting off into your dreamspace.

But tonight, tonight he gets to walk with you. Would it be too much to hope you invite him in? He could fake a cough for a glass of water and take a mental picture of your space from a first person view, only to go home and completely map it out on paper. How would he protect you if he didn’t know every miniscule detail about your life? He is the only thing standing between you and the evilness in this world.

The silence grows oddly comfortable. Spider Punk is too deep in thought but only he knows what about. You’re relishing in the fact that you truly haven’t felt comfort like this in a while. No longer does it feel like someone is watching you from a distance. After a while, you’re both approaching the bright lights in the lobby.

“This is my stop.” You stand with your arms clasped behind your back. It’s evident you need your keycard to get in but digging into your chest to pull it out wasn’t too appealing, right now. “I can make my way in so you can leave now. Thank you so much for walking me home.”

Hobie tilts his head. Under his mask, he’s awfully disappointed. As if he’d let you dance your way out of this. “I’ll walk you to your door. Gotta finish my job completely, ☆.”

You don’t remember telling him your name but he probably got it the last time you saw each other. Maybe superheroes just know that kind of stuff.

“You don’t have to do that!” You only tighten your grip behind your back. “I’m fine and our security is really good. I’m home now so it’s okay.” You shift under his stare and his silence. Is he always like this? Stubborn and refusing to argue back? “So you can go now…”

“Or you can open the door.” He crosses his arms and shifts his weight to his side. You are certain if he didn’t have that mask on, he would be glaring at you right now. This has to be the sassiest man you know. He’s doing quite a bit just to walk you to your door.

You grumble some complaints and turn away, angling your body away from him and the glass doors. Your focus is the doors, though. The chances of you running into the residents are significantly higher than running into Spider Punk, again. You didn’t want your poor neighbors to be scarred with the image of you digging in between your boobs for your keycard. You turn back around to catch him just barely averting his gaze. At his height, it wasn’t too hard to peek over your shoulder and the temptation was just undeniable.

Your lips are pressed into a pout while you swipe the plastic square. The excitement bubbling in your stomach from attention is impossible to ignore but you lie to yourself and insist you’re so deeply bothered, you can feel it.

Like the gentleman he is, Spider Punk takes the door from you. He holds it open, following behind closely through the doorway. “Damn, this is nice.” He lets out a low whistle. His head draws a slow circle at the high ceilings and the floor to ceiling windows. “You really live like this, princess?”

You pout harder at his question. The amazement is normal, of course, but still. Somehow it all makes you feel alien, especially with the pet name attached. “Obviously.” You make a beeline to the elevator in an attempt to avoid the curious gazes directed your way.

With his long legs and therefore long stride, he doesn’t have to put in any effort to maintain your speed. “What’s the attitude for? Didn’t know I was offending you.” It’s difficult to tell whether or not he’s taunting you. It sounds sincere but somehow you doubt it.

“There is no attitude.” You retaliate back. You’re relentlessly jamming your finger on the elevator button. “You asked if I live here, I said obviously. That’s it.” Truthfully, not even you are sure what the bite back is for. First, you didn’t appreciate how he asked about your building. Then, you just found yourself stuck here. Really, this is all his fault.

Spider Punk leans against the wall beside you. His big boots scuff the floor beneath him but otherwise, he seems unphased. “Mmm,” he hums. His head lolls to the side. Your side. You’re ignoring the intense stare he’s giving you and you regret rushing the elevator now.

The door opens with a ding. Both fortunately and unfortunately, there are people already in it. While that means you don’t have to face whatever thoughts he has brewing to your response, you do have to deal with the awkwardness in front of a group of people, some of whom are too nosey for their own good.

As a result, the ride up is quiet. All the up to the fifty-second floor, neither of you speak a word. The door opens and you step out, noting that even in his brooding silence, Spider Punk lets you go first. Had it been any other man, a normal man, you would have ditched him at the front door but a “hero” wouldn’t come in and bombard you in your own space.

He follows you to your door, trailing on your heels. It’s unnerving how silent he is. He doesn’t look bothered but he merely watches you move. Watch you use your keycard to open your door, watch you turn the handle, and watch you turn your head back to his. “Okay. I’m home now.”

“Yeah. Obviously.” He retorts with a hint of a mocking tone. Clearly, he still feels a bit dishonored by your previous choice in tone. “I’m waiting for you to walk in. Like I said, gotta finish my job completely.”

“Oh. Right. You definitely said that before.” You sheepishly smile. The door to your apartment is pushed open, giving him a wide view of the pinked out living room. Not surprisingly enough, there are plenty of pastel colors, sanrio memorabilia, and flowers all over the place.

Shiny, white heated floors, stuffed animals strewn about. Plenty of comforting blankets and a flower shaped floor cushion in the corner. Looks just like you.

“I’d tell you how nice your place is but I don’t want you to bite my head off.”

Your shoulders drop, followed by an exasperated sigh. There is no way to explain he’s the reason you’re snappy and flustered. Him and his deep voice and calming nature. Him and his chivalry and big hands. “I’m sorry for how I spoke to you. Thank you for your compliment.”

Spider Punk turns his head up as if he’s miffed but the corners of his mask pull into a small smile. “It’s fine. Couldn’t stay too mad at ya, anyway. Could I come in? You know, to use your bathroom. I’ll leave right after but night patrolling is a pretty big job and I have needs, too.”

You’re hesitant, glancing over your shoulder. You really shouldn’t. Your better judgment is screaming at you for allowing this to continue this far. Despite his supposed nobility, he is a man and you live alone. Still, he walked you all the way home and saved your baby the other day.

“Um, sure.” You push your door open farther. The much taller man saunters right in as if he’s all too familiar with the place.

He stops in the entryway. Once again, his hands have found their way into his pockets. “Which way am I going, sweetheart?” He’s got a pretty rough guideline of the direction but he couldn’t tell you that. You’d never speak to him again.

“It’s just down the hall, that way. It’ll be on your left.” You’re still undoing the straps of your heels, one hand on the wall to maintain your balance. The last time you checked, the guest bathroom is in perfect order. How fortunate all your friends gather in your room and use your bathroom, instead. “Let me know if you need anything. I’ll be right back.”

You linger around just to watch him enter the bathroom before escaping to your room. In an ideal world, you’d be home alone and jump right into the shower. However, with a stranger within your property, you would much rather stick around to ensure he promptly makes his exit.

Once your feet touch the plush rug by your vanity, you begin un-readying yourself. Your butt-length twists are going up haphazardly into a bun. You’re pulling the hoops out your ears and the strip lashes off your eyes. The makeup remained, however. You were never the biggest fan of makeup wipes. They’re wasteful and never really get into your skin the way you want. Your skincare routine is much more thorough than that.

You pad your way over to your closet and pull out one of your pullover robes. With a quick glance casted at the door to safeguard your privacy, you begin peeling your clothes off you. Your top is tossed in the direction of your hamper before you’re moving onto the flowy brown skirt.

That’s when you see him.

You’re bent over, skirt halfway down your legs. Shirtless, braless, tits all out on display. You feel like a deer caught in headlights, eyes wide and frozen. You know he’s looking at you. His mask is pointed directly at you and even though you can’t see his expression, he has to be just as frozen as you are.

You snap back up, skirt coming up with you. You’re refusing to turn around, hands cupping your breasts while you reach for the robe. Your cheeks are burning and you have no idea if he’s still there or not. You didn’t hear any heavy footsteps, any boots smacking against the floor.

“You didn’t have to stop the show, ☆. I wasn’t expecting a strip tease but can’t say I don’t like it.”

You’re bumbling to pull the robe over your head. The fabric rolls and gets caught on itself but you’re persistent, tugging and pulling in all kinds of directions. “What are you doing here? This is the complete opposite direction of the bathroom.” You don’t turn around, not now, not ever. Instead, you tug on your hair next until the bun is loose and misshapen enough to mold and fit under the hood of the robe.

“You told me to tell you if I needed anything. I’m done and I’m leaving. Just happened to hear you make noise and rustling in here.”

You can hear him closing the space between you. Can feel the weight of his boots though the floor and his presence when he is eventually standing behind you. “Don’t gotta be shy about it. I’ve seen plenty in my life.” He knows it doesn’t sound the best or come out as comforting but his thoughts are a bit fogged over.

Sure, sometimes he gets glimpses of your body through your window but it’s nothing like this. You are always sure to change out of view or close your curtains, opening them when you’re finished. Sometimes he’d see the bottom of your ass peeking through your shorts. Sometimes he was lucky enough to see you parading around in tiny tops. Definitely didn’t compare to seeing your body up close.

“Gee, thanks. Is that supposed to make me feel better?” You scowling and muttering under your breath. You turn, finally, ignoring the burn of your cheeks and the rush of blood throughout your body. You’re ready to give him some sort of spiel about respecting your space and guiding him out the door but your voice is caught in your throat.

“Getting tired of the attitude, darlin’. You’re usually so sweet.” He’s so statuesque, towering over you. With his close proximity, to actually look you in the eyes, his chin is grazing his chest.

You encase your bottom lip between your teeth. If you were an idiot, which you might be for pushing this, you would have noticed the change in the air. Tensions, probably, growing much thicker than they should. “Usually?”

He doesn’t further explain. Instead, his eyes drift over to your discarded top in the corner. “What is with you tonight, ☆? You’re always so sweet. Did something happen while you were at the club? Or was it on the way back before I got you?”

“What? How did you know where I was?” Your eyes grow wide and your stomach churns. That feeling that someone was observing you from a distance, was that him? Who did you just invite in?

He ignores your question. Instead, he has a seat on the ottoman behind him with a sigh. He’s way too comfortable in your home. “Close the curtains, would you?”

You blink slowly. Nothing about this makes sense. His comfortability is unnerving and you hate the way he’s giving you requests in your own apartment you pay for. “I’m sorry? You want me to close my curtains?”

Spider Punk runs his hand down the front of his face. Your constant putting up a fight is exhausting him. He only has but so much unwavering patience, especially when he’s been anticipating this moment. “Yes, love. It would be really helpful if you could close the curtains so I can take my mask off.” He’s resorting to speaking to you like a child, slow and pitchy.

“Wait, what?” His confession to want to unmask right here, right now distracted you completely. You may not know much about his profession but you know that he is never to do. Doing right here in your apartment? That doesn’t sound quite right. “Why?”

“Oh my days!” He groans and in one swift motion, ejects his web to pull the white, blackout curtains shut. “I ask you to do one thing. One simple thing. Had you closed the curtains, I would have told you.” Spider Punk pulls his mask just as quickly as he closes the curtains. Beneath it, he reveals to you the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen.

Dark chocolate skin as glowy as ever and equally dark eyes. His face is adorned with methodically placed piercings. A spider bite, a nose ring, a couple of ear and eyebrow piercings. Despite the laws of physics, his mask completely hid the length of the bulk of his locs. They fell all around, framing his face and between his eyes. Your knees buckle when he looks at you.

“Come here and please do it without the mouth. I’m doing my best and you’re really getting in the way of that.”

You feel like your body moves on it’s own. What’s possessed you to be so pliant, you have no idea. You know this is wrong, know that there is something unbalanced about this. There’s such a pretty man looking at you though, with the expectation that you can do no wrong. Who are you to deny yourself of indulging in the moment, especially when your earlier plans to get dicked down were foiled when you prioritized the health of your inebriated friend. You’ll deal with the consequences later.

You’re suddenly standing in front of him before you realize and his hands fly up to your hips. Gently, he’s pushing you to the ground, only stopping when you’re kneeling in front of him. “I’m going to ask you once. What’s bothering you, pretty girl? You had a weird temperament all night and I know it’s something. You’ve never been this way before.”

You tilt your head, unintentionally pushing your cheek father into his hand. He runs his thumb over the chub of it and you can feel the rough calluses graze against your skin. “I don’t understand. You only met me twice.” Your eyelashes brush against his fingers.

“Mhm. We’ve only officially met twice. That’s not the answer to my question, though.” His hands leave your cheeks and snake around your waist, rubbing the expansion of your back, down to your hips.

You’re awfully unsatisfied with his reply and nearly push him for more until you feel the harsh squeeze on your ass. You can feel your pussy lips separating and the thin cloth of your panties is quick to stick to the thin layer of slick between your legs. The discomfort makes you squirm and though it doesn’t go unnoticed, it is ignored.

“Nothing is wrong,” you finally say. “I’m fine. Just anxious, I guess.” Your eyes are downcast to hide the lie in your eyes. You’re sure he knows the real reason and will try to drag it out of you but that’s a risk you’re willing to take.

SLAP! His hand rains down on your left cheek. He grins when you whimper and lean forward in an attempt to evade his grasp. “Don’t lie to me. You’re not talking to me like this because you're anxious. What is it?”

Your head hangs low in anticipation. You don’t know how to find the words to say but you’re very aware the time is ticking. “I . . . It’s because . . .” Your following explanation is nothing but a mumble, too embarrassed to say it confidently.

“Didn’t hear you, pretty girl. Gotta speak up.” From behind, his hand yanks down the hood and gives a correctional tug to your hair until you’re facing him again. “Tell Hobie what’s botherin’ you.”

You want to pout and whine. Your stance is uncomfortable but the pull on your scalp is delicious. You can’t decide if you’re angry with him for putting you in the position or enjoying it so much you want to play your role. “It’s ‘cause I don’t know what to do around you. You make me nervous.”

At this, he perks up. It has the opposite effect on you. His grip tightens and the pull increases. He leans forward, his lips ghost over the space between your neck. “Do I? That’s not nice though, is it? Haven’t done anything to you. Didn’t put you in danger. Walked you home, made sure you’re safe and sound. I don’t deserve that, do I?”

“No,” Your speech is shaky when he attaches his lips to your skin. Your hands are on his thighs, holding on to what little sanity you have left. It is entirely too easy to get lost in this, in him. Even when he’s doing little to nothing, you can feel him and his warmth everywhere. You press your thighs together to alleviate the gentle throb of your clit.

“Didn’t think so.”

It comes as a surprise to you when you’re suddenly bare. The cloth previously on your body is tugged off without a second thought. Your brain is spinning in an attempt to catch up. The breeze of the air entices your nipples to slowly erect. They’re budding enough to catch Hobie’s attention. He gently rolls them between his fingers, using this as an opportunity to monitor your expression. “When’s the last time someone touched you, pretty? The last time someone had you creamin’ on their shit.”

Your face is contorting in poorly hidden pleasure. You’re doing your best to maintain solid ground, occasionally pressing your legs into each other and rubbing them back and forth. He’s teasing, playing with you slowly and you hated it but you weren’t one to voice your opinion. “Mm, I- I just lost my virginity a few months ago so...”

“You poor little thing.” His voice is dripping with content. Hobie tenderly kisses your forehead. He removes his hands from your body. “Stand up, why don’t you? Let me help you out, doll.”

To no one’s surprise, there is no hesitation or lip service with this request. You’re quick to stand up, disregarding your eagerness and mostly naked body in front of his calmness and fully dressed self. You’re almost beaming when Hobie’s hands find purchase at you again. He’s tugging down both your skirt and black mesh panties. He doesn’t even have to ask you to aid him in removing them. You step out of the materials accordingly and kick them across the room.

He moves you around himself, pulling your body against his. Your hands are moved to rest against his shoulders and your leg is lifted onto the space beside him. “Stay just how I put you.” Hobie looks at you through his eyelashes. He kisses the inside of your thigh. really taking his time to draw out the soft gasps as he made his way closer to your core. Hobie nips and bites at your skin on the way there. Occasionally, he leaves teeth marks behind. It’s only proper to leave something to remember him by in case he doesn’t get this opportunity again.

He has a grip with your thigh but the other hand wanders. It brushes up your leg and your stomach. It glides behind your back and fondles with the globes of your ass, pushing and kneading. It comes back around and slips between your legs. They softly run through against your folds and collect your wetness on the pads of his fingers.

You hum, almost ready to push against him. He’s taking this entirely too slow and it’s driving you crazy. “Hobie, please.” You whine. If you didn’t know any better, you’d push his hand in yourself.

He chuckles and pats your cunny. He can hear the moisture smacking and sloshing around under his fingertips. “Patience, angel. I’m gonna take care of her, promise.” Just as he promises, he pushes a finger deep inside you. You’re moan matches, slightly drawn out and slightly wobbly. Just as you suspected, his hands are huge. His fingers are thick and long. One hand could probably cover the majority of your torso. Having them sink so deeply into you is making you delirious.

“Well shit,” he massages your hip. His eyes are trained on your pussy. He’s entranced with the act of it, with his fingers drawing out more and more juices, with your pleas and pleasurable noises above his head. “You’re soaked.” It doesn’t take long for him to work you up to two fingers, slotting it next to the other.

You’re practically dripping down herself, grip tightening on his shoulders. You’re appreciative of his continuous grip on your leg because if it were your way, you wouldn’t be able to stand still. Not when he was constantly brushing against that spot you could barely reach yourself. “Oh my god, ‘Bie. There!” Your body falls forward, barely being held up when he continues to drill into you.

“Yeah? Feels good?” He doesn’t give you a chance to reply. Rather, he’s slouching underneath your body, tongue latching onto your clit. His eyes are barely lidded at the first taste. He swears you taste like a summer day, of strawberries and whip cream. He could spend all night here, drinking you in. It’s like his ears are stuffed with cotton. He can’t hear you. He can’t even hear himself moaning against your skin.

Hobie pulls his fingers out of you, ignoring your dissatisfied whines. In his right mind, he would have shushed you with gentle kisses and reassurance but he couldn’t form the words to. One taste got him pussydrunk and now he couldn’t stop.

Hobie scoots back onto your bed, clawing at your body to maintain the proximity. His eyes are wild and he doesn’t say a single thing. It’s obvious what he wants, though, when he lays back and yanks you on top of him. You shriek in surprise, nearly falling over his body. He has you situated, facing the growing tent in his pants.

“A warning would have been a little helpful.” You speak as if trying to lighten the mood, not realizing just how far gone Hobie really was. He only grunts in response and relocates your hips back over his face. One small taste is not enough. He was determined to get more out of you, as much as he wants. His arms hook you into places before he absolutely dives in.

And he was messy with it.

Hobie didn’t care if there was spit everywhere. He didn’t care if he drowns in it. In fact, he would love to. His tongue licks a fat stripe on your cunt. He can cum in his pants from the taste and your own moans. This is where he is meant to be, he’s sure of it. He’s only been here for a few minutes, seconds maybe, but he’s never felt more right.

He tongue probs around your entrance, experimentally. You gasp with a shaky breath, clenching the sheets. It encourages him to follow through, slurping and tongue fucking you. His vice grip keeps you settled. With how much you were squirming, you would have moved off or too far by now.

“Fucking- gonna-!” You can’t form your mouth around your words. Your brain is fuzzy with the intense bliss building in your core. You’re nearly ready to burst when Hobie begins rapid small circles on your bundle of nerves. You throw your head back, hair whipping free and falling all in his face but that’s the least of his worries. Not when you unintentionally push your hips down, allowing his tongue to push deeper and his fingers to pull more.

With one final nudge of his tongue and jerk of his fingers, you’re creaming all over his face. He’s grateful to lap it up, allowing you to ride through your high. He removes his fingers from what he’s sure is your now sensitive clit and his hands take their place on your hips. You shudder, and despite his wishes, eventually pry his hands off you. “I can’t.” You drag your body off his. Your chest heaves as you get comfortable on your back. You can still feel your cunny throbbing but she’s in no shape to be touched right now. “Too sensitive.”

If Hobie’s face says one thing, it’s that he’s displeased. He rolls over and looms over you, staring you down. His locs fall in his face but he doesn’t look bothered by it. He’s too busy hooking an arm under yours and moving you closer to the headboard. “Nah. I think you got a few more in you.”

Your eyes flash as he lifts you with ease. “Yeah, in a second.” You’re already ready to push him back, glare on deck. Before he even lets go of your side, he’s forced your hands to the headboard and webbed them in place.

“Can’t trust you to sit still and let me work.” Hobie hurriedly pecks your lips. “Won’t be too long so don’t be too mad at me.” He flashes you a smile as he retreats. You think he’s going to leave you until he begins his dance of removing his spidersuit. The stretchy material peels right off him and he’s back between your legs, resting on his shoulders.

Hobie doesn’t bother looking at you. He’s smiling at your cunny, just as glistening as when he left him. “Can’t believe you tried to keep me away from her. Just look at how much she missed me?” He plunges his finger inside you again, only to scoop up some of your cum and drag it out. “Breaking my heart, ☆.”

Your legs nearly close, leg’s drawing together at the knees. He draws out a mewl out of you, your body contorting in all different directions. “You’re so mean to me.” You whine, jerking even more so when Hobie delivers a slap on your pussy.

He feigns an apologetic expression, forcing your legs apart again. “I’m so mean to you? I’m so sorry. Let me make it up to you.” He lowers his head against your skin. Like the previous time, he’s pacifying on your clit again but it’s stronger. He’s determined, gaining momentum and pumping his tongue in your slit. You can’t help but tighten around his tongue, back arching against the wood. Was his tongue extra long or were you unable to maintain your composure?

Hobie is understanding, though. He takes it upon himself to keep you where he wants you. Despite your squirming and pushing, he pushes down on your stomach. With full access, he slurps and suckles. It’s an endless stream coming from your heavenly pussy and that’s just how he likes it. Hobie drinks it all in as if he was a starved man.

He pushes your legs wider, farther, curling and compacting your body. He folds you until your knees are nearly touching your ears. You swear you can feel your heartbeat ricocheting through your toes at this point. You’re tugging at the makeshift restraints. “Ohhh my god,” your eyes squeeze shut. Your breath catches in your throat when he strikes just the right spot, still spongy from your last orgasm.

Hobie peeks up at you, smirking into your folds. You’re just as pretty as he imagined. Prettier. Even with your eyes screwed closed and your skin glossed over with a thin layer of sweat.

You tug your hands again, straining to touch him. “Don’t stop! Please, please, please,” you chant. Your own nails dig into your skin, acrylics scratching the surface. The burn is a distant thought. “Let me touch you. I need – I need to touch you.”

Hobie messily kisses your slit when your essence leaks out and smears across your thighs. “Cum and I’ll think about it.”

His bruising grip on your hip keeps your lower body still. Despite his somewhat lanky frame, he’s still adorned with the basic spider-man muscles. Not to mention his habits kept him fit with all the swinging through the city and climbing on walls he does.

Your only surface to find purchase in is your headboard. Your nails scratch the wood and you’re sure you’ll regret it later but it’s the last thing in your mind. Not when hobie is alternating between his tongue and his fingers. He’s bumping against your clit strategically. Your body is fighting against his strength, wanting to arch and wriggle.

You press your head harder into the hard surface behind you, grateful for your hair acting as a pillow. Your toes begin to curl and once again, your legs are attempting to force their way together.

Hobie only forces them open farther. He displays his displeasure by wrapping his lips around your clit. He’s watching you through his eyelashes, growing more irritated with each squirm. You’re moving too much and it’s making it harder for him.

You don’t notice, not when you’re gasping for air. You draw in one big breath, the release prompting the synchronized release of your cum. Your chest is heaving, brushing against tbe tops go your thighs. Your body shakes and shudders at his relentless to fuck you through it.

“You’re makin’ this more difficult than it needs to be,” Hobie rises from his position between your legs. He kneels in front of your and languidly strokes his fingers inside you. It’s not enough pressure or movement to draw anything out of you but he can’t help it, can’t stop. “Sit still.”

The waterline of your eyes are just barely teary. You sniff, twisting your wrists under the webs. “I can’t. Tried to tell you. You didn’t listen.” You resist a pout by pressing your lips together. “Can you let my hands out now?”

It’s as if he didn’t hear you when he leans forward and kisses the corner of your lips. Hobie’s weight shifts underneath you and your question goes unanswered. You’re committing to your pout, eyes narrowing. “Hello? Are you gonna or what?”

Hobie pauses. His eyes are locked onto yours with his head tilted as if to say are you sure about that? “You makin’ demands now?” He pulls his raging dick out of his boxers. Too nervous to, you don’t let your gaze wander downwards. Still, you can tell his mushroom tip is puffy and leaking down his shaft. He may not have the girthiest dick but it’s long and swollen, craving your tight little cunt.

Your mouth slightly drops open when he rubs it through your folds. You’re silent and pliant, maybe out of nervousness for the situation you found yourself in. Of course he takes advantage of this.

“Hm? You tellin’ me what to do?” He reiterates his question, just barely pushing his tip back inside you, only to slip it out when you mewl. He isn’t surprised when you don’t answer. He’s already moving your legs farther down. He’s hungrily watching the way your pussy envelopes and welcomes him in. “Fuck, baby. You’re tighter than I imagined.” Even after him working you soft, you’re still just as flesh against him.

He can feel your walls spasm when he give an experimentally shallow thrust. You reel, falling nearly limp just from how deep he is. The position, the mating press he has you in gives him direct access to the deepest parts of you. Hobie doesn’t have to try too hard to reach your g-spot, just shy of hitting your cervix.

He massages the backs of your thighs, smugly taking in this vulnerable side about you. “How can I let you out if you can’t even take this. Can’t have you fighting me.”

Even in his best dreams, he didn’t think you’d feel this good. Didn’t think he’d be balls deep in his favorite girl Halloween night. Hr breathes sharply, eyes closing to truly focus on his pleasure. The small amount of sanity and restraint he’s been holding on to all night is slipping out of his reach, especially when he begins slow thrusts into you. You can’t move, not even if you wanted to. Not when he has you caged in, limiting your movement.

His hips stutter the first time you clock around him. “Fuck,” Hobie clenches his teeth. His tidy nails create little crescents in your skin. If he could push you into the mattress more, he would have. He needed to be so deep inside you that your bodies had no choice but to fuse together. He wants your body to remember his, to remember the shape of his cock, to maintain is so he can come back to soften you into putty again.

“Stop tryin’ to push me away.” Hobie spits out. He can feel your legs pushing against his hands and he hates it. It only makes him tighten his grip until he’s sure you’ll forever has his handprints there.

“Too much!” You hiccup. Tears fall over your cheeks as his pace picks up. He’s nonstop nudging your cervix, going way deeper than your last fuck months ago. You could just explode, pulling and pushing to find a position to alleviate the pressure but no matter where you go, Hobie is everywhere.

He doesn’t know where to focus. Your face, your tits, the spot where you were connected. His senses are overwhelmed. “Can’t be. I’m barely doing anything.” He’s vigorously plowing into you. The slap of skin between your bodies is an absolute symphony to him.

Your moans beg to differ, booming in the air of your room. The possibility of your neighbors hearing you is a distant thought. You couldn’t give a shit about them and their discomfort. They haven’t had the sexiest man alive fuck them into insanity.

You also don’t have to tell him you’re on the brink of release, not when you’re damn near cutting his dick in half. He’s forced to still, much to his displeasure. “Poor little thing.” Hobie fakes his pity. He hooks one of your legs over his shoulder. “Look at me when I make you cum.” He demands, waiting until he’s certain your eyes are trained on him to dribble spit on your soaking cunt.

His thumb follows, easily gliding rapid ministrations across it. It’s all over the place, his thighs and yours. The smell of your sex feels the air. He’s intoxicated.

Your eyes are barely open but you’re doing your best. Your heartbeat races as you wind up tighter. Your mouth drops open but you can’t speak. Can’t say a thing. It’s all too paralyzing. The only sound you can make are hums of encouragement until one final thrust pushes you over the edge.

You convulse, a water stream comes flushing out your cunny. The webs over your wrist are the only thing that keeps you from clinging onto his chest when you jerk forward.

It comes so quickly, Hobie is yanking his cock out of you. He hovers over your body, furiously fisting it until ropes of his own cum flies out and decorates your chest. He’s out of breath, expectantly. It took all of his efforts to devour you as he really wanted.

You’re just as exhausted, lying limp and silent. At some point, your legs are softly placed back on the mattress and he removes the sticky web keeping you in place.

In an ideal world, he’d do it again but there’s no way you can handle it. He reckons he’s already pushed you past your limit.

“Come back to me, pretty girl.” He massages your side. In contrast to his previous behavior, his hands are gentle. They soothe the dim ache settling into your muscles. “There you go. Come back to me.”

Hobie waits until you’re settled, waits until you’re smiling weakly. “Where’s your towels at?” His limited view from your window never showed him your linen closet. All he knows is that it’s somewhere in the hallway.

You shake your head and push yourself into seating. “I’d rather just shower.” You say. Your face contorts for a second at the feelings of your legs recovering from that punishing stretch. You don’t even have a moment to react before Hobie is grabbing at you again.

“Are you okay? Do you need anything? Should I help you?” His hands are at your waist again. You quizzically stare at him while he fusses over your frame. It’s not like it changes anything. He know what he did to you.

“No, no I’m just but . . . how do you know my name. Or where I was today?” Flashbacks of your conversation play through your head. You suddenly feel gross with the possibility that you just fucked a creep despite said creep being extremely attractive.

Hobie pressed his lips together. He tilts his head away while his eyes bounce off your white walls. He pushes his locs out of his eyes, seeming to weigh his words. “Well, mm, ever since we met that one time, you’re just everywhere I go.” He’s totally lying and he knows that but you don’t need to. If he told you the truth, you’d probably beat his ass in.

“What?”

He peeks over at you before becoming super interested in the fabric of your pink sheets. “Yeah. You don’t notice but I run into you a lot and your friends are kinda loud, y’know?” He picks off a piece of lint. “So I just caught it one day, I guess. ‘Nd like I said, I was patrolling the area. Saw you come out.” His story sounds bad, oddly strung together. He knows. But he also knows you’re a bit dumb, a bit too trusting. You let him in your apartment to pee, for christ’s sake.

“Oh,” you nod. Just as expected, you believe him. At least enough to let it go and ignore what concern you may feel. “And you did this because? I mean, you don’t do this with everyone you just meet do you?”

In your defense, you are just a civilian. You live a somewhat normal life. This sounds like a completely reasonable explanation, although you are hyper aware of the fact that you were are it naked. It bothers you that Hobie doesn’t care.

He’s lax, rubbing the silk cloth between his fingers. The corners of his mouth are upturned and you have to fight the urge to ask him what’s funny. “No. Just you. I wouldn’t wanna do this with anyone else. Thought that was pretty obvious.”

You suppose it could be, though it doesn’t make sense to you. Maybe you aren’t sure how to wrap your head around the situation. So you don’t say anything in return. You just hum and nod because what were you supposed to say? This isn’t an everyday occurrence and you certainly weren’t expecting Spider Punk himself, tonight.

“Listen,” Hobie starts, “this is a lot, I know. Weren’t expecting it or whatever but at some point, you’re gonna miss me.” He grins all wide and smug. He is smug. He knows the impression he left behind. He knows what you like, what gets you going. You’ll miss him. “All I’m going to do is leave my number here, ‘kay? It’s completely up to you.”

You don’t like his arrogance. You don’t like it even more when he stands and strides right up to your nightstand. As he scribbles his number on your stack of sticky notes, you swear to yourself that you’re gonna throw it away. He’s too confident your your liking, too sure of himself. It’s almost as if he knows you’re not gonna get the memory of him plowing into you in a few weeks.

Not to his surprise, you don’t. It only takes him a few days before he’s hearing from you again, all hesitant and precious when you invite him over. And of course, he goes. Who was he to deny your right? Especially when the day he first laid eyes on you, he knew he wanted you.

#ִ ࣪✮🕷✮⋆˙#partially edited #didn’t edit the smut bc i can’t read my own smut #it makes me CRINGE #but it’s done c:#may come back and edit it laterrr #astv hobie #hobie brown #hobie smut #hobie x black!reader #hobie x reader #hobie x y/n #x black fem reader #x black reader #x reader

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fordohyon · 9 months

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Hii!! I saw you wanted a xikers imagine soo how about xikers reaction when you makeup and wearing a pretty dress in front of them for the first time, but the security have a crush on you? Do it in your style 🥹🥹💕��

ok, so im a little stupid so im guessing like security guard so let me know if this was what u had in mind, i hope u enjoy tho 😋🫡 please tell me if there are any grammatical errors or spelling mistakes so i can fix them

maknae line will be posted later on, i’ll tag you when i do 🤞

THE SECURITY HAS A CRUSH ON YOU?

PAIRING - hyungline!xikers (individual) x fem!reader

WARNING(S) - not sure, pls lmk if there are any

WORDCOUNT - 1.7k (scenarios average 200-300 words)

a/n: jinsiks and hyunwoos are so long?? I was planning for all of them to be around 200-300 though jinsik and hyunwoos is about 400,,

민재

Minjae

It's only been 3 months since you started dating and most of your dates were inside your apartment or his, he hasn’t seen you with makeup or any sort of fancy clothing. As a way to celebrate your 3rd monthary, you opted to go on a fancy date, of course, you had to get all dolled up for this moment. "Babe?!" You heard Minjae shout. "I'm in my room!" A sigh of relief could practically be heard by your neighbors. "We have to be there by four thir... Woah... You look amazing!" he exclaimed, cheeks and ears tinted with a soft cherry color. "I... I mean, as always! I, uh, you know! I just... you're gorgeous." the boy continued, though a stuttering mess. "Don't worry. I get what you mean, you look striking yourself! Shall we go now?" You said while applying your lipstick on.

You couldn't help but feel a flutter in your stomach as he placed a gentle hand on the small of your back. You both stepped out into the lobby and made your way towards the exit, Minjae seeing the relatively new guard who’s been eyeing you since he started his job at your apartment block “Hi ma’am, would you mind grabbing a drink with me when you’re free? undoubtedly ignoring your boyfriend who’s right beside you. “Aaah… Sir, I have a boyfriend-” you informed the guard, “Which is I, I’m her boyfriend.” Minjae interrupted, clearly jealous, well not that he’s insecure. “Oh, well.. uh, enjoy your date.” The guard awkwardly laughed out. “Thank you-” “We will.” the jealous boy spurts out.

“You’re jealous?” you questioned. Finding him cute. “Well, I can’t say I'm not,” he spoke out before kissing your lips, smudging your lipstick in the process before burying his head into your neck. “What a baby, I love you, and only you.” and of course, you go on about your day and continue the date.

준민

Junmin

You had finally gotten the opportunity to go all out with your makeup and outfit considering you’re going to be spending the whole day with him. Your phone rings as you open your drawers filled with makeup, catching a glimpse of the caller, noticing that it's your boyfriend you press the call button. “Hi, darling, I'll be there in 5?” he says, unsure if you’d be okay with him going earlier than you expected. “Alright, hurry up… I wanna see my glorious boyfriend!” you utter whilst you pick up your phone to open your camera, “Oh- Wow! You look stunning… I’ll be there as soon as possible! Bye!!” he exclaims before hanging up the call. Gathering all of your makeup that’ll probably smear and placing it in your empty pouch. The doorbell buzz spirals to your room. Walking towards the door and grabbing your bag just as you open the door.

“Hi, You’re enchanting.” he compliments you once again, “Thank you… Shall we go?” you smile, asking him, and soon after you receive the response “Certainly”,

A few hours after you‘ve left and eaten. Both you and your boyfriend have decided to go shopping for new clothes, with Junmin of course. Although he’s just following wherever you go, Junmin can’t ignore the stares that the security that you’ve been passing by plenty of times. Who eventually came up and gave you a paper with a number on it, presumably the security guards’. “Darling, throw it… please?” unpretentiously, you’re gonna throw it away, you already have a lovely and amazing boyfriend, though it is fun to tease him from time to time. “Hm… I’ll think about it.” you taunt him, seeing his brows furrow and his lips forming a pout. You take this as a chance to kiss his lips, seeing his ears getting red and his eyes going blank makes you smile from ear to ear. “You’re cute. So cute. I love you and of course, I’ll throw it.”

수민

SUMIN

Both you and Sumin love picking out each other's outfits when you go out, however, today it's different. The two of you have agreed on not showing each others' looks before meeting up, you haven't necessarily worn much makeup with him, and this was a chance to surprise him with a look he hasn't seen you in before. Just as you zip your pants up you hear someone knock at your door, trudging towards the door, albeit checking the peephole first, noticing the blond hair you figure that, that's your boyfriend. Opening the door the first thing you see is his gorgeous smile makes you melt, you hear him clear his throat before saying "My princess.. you're breathtaking. Should we go?"

"The Art Museum, right?" You question, receiving a hum from the blond.

Before entering the museum Sumin had caught the guard staring at you, he didn't think of it as anything, or at least before the guard came up to you and asked if you were single. Receiving the most obvious answer, which is no. Sumin who was staring at the security with slightly creased brows, pulling Sumin away, his eyebrows now slightly relaxed, “What was that?!” He questioned, voice laced with disarray. “Not sure either, my prince,” You let out as you raise your brows.

You and Sumin go on about your day hopefully, with no more interruptions, you both have long forgotten the scenario that happened a few hours ago.

진식

JINSIK

Jinsik didn’t know how important this event was till you went to his apartment wearing elegant clothing and makeup, his messy morning hair and pajamas looking extra cute “You’re beautiful, though if you don’t mind me asking, where you’re going?” He asks, “Do you mind going with me? I have to be there by 9 am,” Your eyes dilate as you check your watch. “Should I uh… Just wear a suit?” He stutters, after receiving a nod from you he checks his clock and instantly runs to his bathroom. Waltzing over to his couch and taking your pocket mirror out to check if your makeup is smudged.

It’s been about 10 minutes and your boyfriend Is still sprinting around the place, brushing his hair as he walks up to you “Can you help me with my hair, please?” Jinsik looks at you, trying to see what your answer would be on your face. “Yes dear, I will. Though you have to hurry.” His face lights up, giving you the widest smile after.

You’re now driving to the event parking. You tell them your name and take your ticket. Your car circles around the parking lot checking to see any available parking spaces that are closer to the entrance with Jinsik helping you. “Dearest, there’s one over there!” He exclaimed as he pointed his finger towards the spot he was talking about. “Shall we go inside? I have to introduce you to my coworkers! They’ve been wondering who my plus one is!” You ramble excitedly, “Yes we shall.” He kisses your nose and gets out of the car, opening your door for you.

You’re now in the venue with your boyfriend. You introduce him to some of your close co-workers. All telling you how you have a handsome boyfriend who’s fit for your beautiful self, how you’re the perfect pair, and joking around saying they feel so single around the both of you. You approach the security guard you’re acquainted with while your boyfriend gets some sweets. “Hey… I didn’t know you’d be here!” He gasped, he didn’t know about your boyfriend which led him to ask, “Are you free anytime soon? Let’s go out, just the two of us.” Fortunately for you, your boyfriend heard. “Ah- Sir, she’s unfortunately taken, by me,” Jinsik said as he found himself having a burst of confidence but later cringing at himself. “Bye, Sir!” You murmured as your boyfriend pulled you towards your seats. “I love you, dear,” You enunciate as you kiss his lips, feeling him smile into the kiss. “I love you too, dearest,”

정훈

HYUNWOO

You had dressed up and put makeup on today due to your Christmas party. You show up at his place all dressed up, “You’re astonishing” He says, ears red as this was his first time seeing you dolled up. “Hi baby,” you mutter as you kiss him softly.

“Let’s stay here for a while, if you don’t mind, it's a bit too early to go there right now,” you suggest, of course, Hyunwoo doesn’t mind. “Honey, you’re so lovely,” He lets out as he kisses you, he just can't keep himself together when you’re all pretty like this. Not that you’re only pretty today but considering that this is his first time seeing you like this he just can’t help staring at you.

You’ve been watching for at least an hour and you’ve determined it’s time to go, “Baby, we should go now.” you whisper, weakly after sitting the whole hour. Holding your phone up and checking the camera if your makeup has smirched. “Right, let me get my keys first.” Your boyfriend says, kissing you once again. He leads you to his car opens the door for you and gets into his seat afterward.

He has already memorized the shortcuts to your building making it quicker to get there. Unlocking the door and kissing you before you go has been a thing Hyunwoo always does. Usually, he’d go back to his place and wait till you text him to pick you up but today he decided to stay at the mall nearby and wait for you. He had called you a few minutes after finding a place to stay in the mall, informing you that he was staying in the mall near your office.

At least an hour and a half has passed and you’ve finally texted him saying you’ll meet him at the front of the mall, instantly going to the front of the mall. He immediately finds you and he moves toward you. “Baby… Can you answer this number for me and tell them I have a boyfriend?” You huffed out, obviously annoyed. “Ah- Alright…” You give him your phone as the number keeps on ringing.

“Hello? Who’s this?” Hyunwoo questions. “Y/n, how come you forgot already? This is the security guard, you know, the one you always talk to…? I got your number to tell you I want to go on a date with you, though I’ve already told you this a while ago” “Well I’m sorry to say this but this isn’t Y/n, quite obvious already from my voice. I don’t sound anything like her, and she’s not single,” He asserts, voice tinted with jealousy. That’s all it took for the number to hang up. “Block the number, please” Hyunwoo pleas, “Well I wasn’t planning on keeping his number anyways”

#yu’s writing - 📝#xikers #xikers x reader #xikers minjae #xikers junmin #xikers sumin #xikers jinsik #xikers hyunwoo #xikers junghoon #xikers seeun #xikers hunter #xikers yujun #xikers yechan #xikers scenario #xikers reaction

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aromacaque · 5 months

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tumblr you get this too. i am always sending mini essays unprompted on discord servers

in text under read more

"rewatching lmk again don't worry about that but just thinking. about how when mk was like "so monkey king really was a bad guy?" "that's what i believed" in past tense "wukong was on a path of self destruction. we all were" THESE AREN'T NEW REVELATIONS BTW I JUST THINK ABOUT THEM so i always feel a bit crazy when i rewatch MORE THINGS THAT DRIVE ME CRAZY NO MATTER HOW MANY TIMES I REWATCH PART 128934843

macaque actually reaching out for the memory of wukong even though he KNOWS it's a memory

"i just wanted to be strong enough to protect the people i cared about... i lost sight why i was doing any of it. i know i've made a few lifetimes worth of mistakes, but living them over and over again like this" and it's macaque and him together with macaque looking sad and conflicted

"good thing you're immortal then. there's plenty of time to do things over" basically summarizing macaque and wukong's entire relationship and why it works tbh

"we can't fix everything, we just need to leave it a little better than we found it" AND HE LOOKS UP TO MACAQUE. WHO IS GIVING HIM SUCH A SAD LOOK LIKE THAT'S NOT HIM BROODING THAT'S HIM JUST LIKE. THEY'RE BOTH SAD IDK!!

"i need you to be the monkey king" AND HE BASICALLY LOOKS TO MACAQUE FOR PERMISSION?????

also the implications here that macaque has started to see wukong's side of things a little more. do you hear me. can anyone hear me

the way after they're being like ????

THEY'RE STILL LIKE . YOU KNOW.

but they're being objectively more friendly with each other, done with each other but friendly, but both are very much still keeping their distance. EXCEPT THEY'RE ALSO BOTH MAKING STEPS TO BRIDGING THAT DISTANCE??

BUT THEY CAN'T BECAUSE . UM. WELL. MACAQUE DIED AND THEY HAVEN'T TALKED ABOUT THAT

sorry i am staring so hard at season 5

season 5 you want to get these two to actually have a proper conversation sooooo bad please please please please please please please please plea

#lego monkie kid #wukong #macaque #shadowpeach #if you want it to be #this is my tumblr and i get to infodump here if i want #<- i remembered i have free will

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pinkrifle · 1 year

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i know i’m a scream blog or whateva but i am. fixated on south park rn it is my spinterest and i love it sooo take being kyle’s older sista :3

lemonade luh luh lemonade,,,

tw’s: none !! :D but if you don’t like cussing don’t read thi

literally ike and kyle’s big sister, like literally,, automatically you feel like it is your duty to protect them!!

and that is exactly what you do <3

when kyle and his friends are doing random shenanigans you always call him occasionally just to make sure he’s not dead in a ditch—

and when kyle calls YOU randomly you pick up and your covered in superhero stickers, playing with random marvel action figures with ike. (team stan/main 4 always laugh at you :3 )

as a child, when kyle was a babey (let’s say uhh your 2 years older than him, so your 3 and he’s 1 🗣️) you always joked around with him and your biggest inside joke was owning a pig. when ike was adopted you guys shared the joke with him!!

whenever your around cartman never dares say anything about you and kyle’s religion,,

because time you beat cartmans ass, you didn’t care how big the age gap was and how wrong a big kid beating up a little kid was you would nawt stand for you and your brother being bullied 🗣️🗣️

whenever kyle and his friends have a bad day at school, or just one of them, you always make your next babysitting job with them fun!! watching comedy movies (that you should not make those kids watch 😙..), eating shit ton of icecream and prank calling people!!

whenever sheila gets upset and kyle and ike for doing the most outrageous antics ever you always attempt to distract her

and if your doing those stupid antics wiyj kyle and ike your always the person to lock her somewhere or prevent her from doing crazy shit to yall

the main 4 always battles to see which one you like more, you love all those little goofy babies equally!! but they still fight

in that metrosexual ep, you definitely participated in the wacky outfits, even helping the other 3 transform kyle !!

if you ever got a boyfriend or girlfriend kyle would be a little suspicious of the person but if it makes his sister happy he’s okay with it!!

y’all definitely cook jewish dishes together, it’s usually you doing most of the work but kyle loves helping you!!

doing goofy ass poses infront of the menorah and posting it on insta 100%

sometimes you join the boys in doing crazy shit and your always the mastermind 🫶 you always excuse their behavior in public by saying your their guardian and will stop them if they go too far (you don’t)

well thas it! requests are open 24/7 if anyone is interested, and if i made any mistakes in interpreting the main 4 boys let me know so i can fix it 🫶 if you see any grammar mistakes also lmk!!

#kyle brovlofski #kyle broflovski #south park #eric cartman #stan marsh #kenny mccormick #south park x reader #south park x reader platonic #（✿ ◞◟）🫧 marj writes! ﹒

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nobodysdaydreams · 7 months

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OH AM I GONNA HAVE SOME FUN WITH THIS IF I EVER HAVE THE TIME TO WRITE FANFIC

(Or my reaction to Episode 61 of Wolf359: Brave New World).

Well gang, we did it. We've reach the end. Sorry for how my reactions went from super spaced out to speed running the finale in a number of days, but I did warn you that I'm just sporadic like that. Though I have been semi-putting Brave New World off, because as much as I want to know how Wolf359 ends, I don't want it to end. I love these characters. I want good things for them. As much as I hate what they did, I wish that Hilbert and Maxwell had gotten the chance to get the redemption arc that Jacobi got. Hilbert had plenty of opportunities, but Maxwell was young and its not fair. I don't know how much more sadness they are gonna throw at me, but I'm guessing its a lot and I can't listen to it all in one sitting, so I'm just mentally preparing myself.

I also don't want this to end because I've loved giving you guys these reactions. Thank you all for reading my rambles and enjoying them. It means a lot to me, and I hope you were entertained. Thanks for coming on this journey with me, and please know that the second this is over, I am gonna figure out how to unblock the wolf359 tags (I did it so long ago I forgot how I did it, oopsie-daisy), and I am am gonna be reblogging and going crazy over all your posts and fanart and stuff so I hope you're ready for that.

Plus finishing the podcast also means it's time for me to deliver on those fics I promised y'all, which have been very carefully written (in my head). I will write them out eventually, but if there is anything my tmbs mutuals will tell you, my wolf359 mutuals, it's that my ideas tend to lead to other ideas, which means my fics do tend to be a little long, but (based on the reviews I've gotten) worth the read. So it might take a while to get them on AO3, but when I do, I hope you enjoy them!

Tagging the mutuals who got me invested in this, and if you want to be tagged or untagged from these posts, lmk, or you can follow my blog or simply follow the tag "#bods wolf359 reactions". Anyone who has followed me for a while knows my updates are inconsistent, so I apologize in advance for that and for any spelling/grammar mistakes in my posts.

@sophieswundergarten @oflightningandstars @acollectionofcuriousreblogs @herawell @commsroom @lovelyladylavie

Episode 61: Brave New World

The fact that Brave New World was written in 1932 and Cutter and Pryce are old and the fact that the message of Brave New World is about humans losing their humanity...already we're setting the stage.

And based on Kepler's earlier declaration, why do I suspect that this is the part where Doug's daughter's life and Minkowski's husband's life are finally on the line. I know Cutter and Pryce won't hesitate to aim their guns at them (and probably the rest of the planet too).

That moment when you can't tell if Wolf359 starts with sad piano music, or if this is just an ad for another podcast.

Oh it's the intro. Hi Hera! Or Miranda...oh wait I genuinely can't tell if this is Miranda talking about herself or Hera talking about her.

Clouded eyes, weak heart, child genius, orphan, no friends...I see. Obsessed with making things stronger and better. Yeah, except for herself I bet. Oh. She made her friends. Because she could control them. "Never left her behind, never talked back, never were afraid of her...except when she wanted them to be." "The one thing she couldn't fix was herself" see I called it!

Until? Oh no. Marcus.

And Old Man? Almost as clever as her? "Hello little girl. I want you to make a doll for me. You're very best doll. It must look like a real person, and sound like a real person, and be a real person." "And if I can?" "Then you and I will fix the world. I will be young and you will be whole and the world will finally be everything it could be. Everything it should be."

Okay. Thoughts.

When I made my jokes about Pryce being Cutter's evil science girlfriend, I was not assuming a romantic relationship, I was trying to use that language to insult Pryce and Cutter by making them sound like the kids they hate so much in a frivolous, juvenile and toxic relationship. Then, I was told by a few of you that given this assumption, it’s important that I know that I shouldn't assume that Pryce met Cutter when she was young based on this story and it was meant to be "fairytale language", which does make sense given that Cutter being willing to call Miranda his "work wife" when he's known her since she was young enough to be his granddaughter is incredibly creepy.

I appreciate the clarification, but also, I really don't think it matters whether this is hyperbole or not. If it is, then okay. Pryce and Cutter's relationship is still weird. If it's not, then Cutter's a creep, what a surprise. Tell me something I don't know.

"And so they did. And everyone lived happily ever after. The end."

The fact that it's Cutter that interrupts Miranda's story to give that closing line and declare this the end adds to the creepiness. Miranda says what Marcus's promise to her was, but never says whether she agreed before Marcus jumps in with "and so they did". Also, if Miranda was dying, Cutter was her only chance at survival. It also sounds like she was a kid with a pretty messed up view of the world. Doesn't excuse anything she did, but see Cutter? THAT is how you give a good sad backstory, and she did it in five minutes. You spent a whole hour with Nash just so you could cry that the government took your precious telescope.

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

"THAT'S the evil plan?" Care to fill us in Doug?

"That's THE plan, yes." Shut it Rachel. It's evil and you know it.

It's...so evil. And so...planned. Doug's words might be simple, Rachel, but sometimes simple is better. It gets to the point and cuts through the BS.

"It's real and it's happening" And ARE you happy about this Kepler? And why tell them?

Good question Kepler, why are you here? Please tell me you're going to take Rachel away.

"You're going to help" "of course I am" Are you Kepler? Oh please tell me he gets a redemption arc and betrays Cutter.

Does anyone want to fill ME in on the plan? No one? Okay. :(

"Where's the trust?" That's not for you, Rachel.

"I really don't like her" I don't either, Doug.

"What about Cutter's plan?" WHAT IS THE PLAN? WILL BOB AGREE TO IT? WHAT WILL WORK? WHAT WILL THEY DO?

We can't stop them, so let's see our families again. No, Minkowski, you can do this! I believe in you! You can't just go home, we have two hours left! That's plenty of time to stop them.

It's been a long...years.

I forget how long they've been up there. And that everyone on Earth believes they're dead.

And not do anything about WHAT? WHAT IS THE PLAN PLEASE FILL ME IN.

What was that sound?

-----------

Oh Doug is in the comms room. Oh yikes. It's okay, Doug. We've all broken very expensive lab equipment before.

"Living in a cuckoo clock" you have no idea, Doug.

"I wouldn't do that." Is that Pryce or Hera? And yeah why is there gas?

"Good boy" oh good it's Hera. Hera calls him good boy, Pryce just calls him boy.

"Who are you?" OH THIS IS DOUG MEETING HERA FOR THE FIRST TIME. At first I thought that Doug...forgot her? Or something? I was confused.

Ultraviolet halo? Contraband cigarettes. 😂

"Just ask. I'm here to help." Aw that was sweet.

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

Ew Rachel. I'm gonna start using "----" breaks to cut off sections.

"Actually he's in quite a lot of pain. Back to work." Always charming, Rachel.

"Thanks for saving our lives-" Kepler, that's a great question. What IS this? Where was the concern for brainwashed Jacobi or better still, WHERE WAS YOU CONCERN FOR MAXWELL? Or Jacobi dealing with her death?

"And do what? Get myself shot? Get you shot? No. I played the game." Was it worth it, Kepler?

"That's the lie you tell yourself. The truth? The truth is that you were afraid. And the only thing YOU did was try to save YOUR hide?"

Dang this dialogue is amazing.

"You're not wrong." "Which one?" "Both of you." This isn't YOUR conversation Rachel.

-----------

Momentary weakness?

Oh my gosh, the good food too? Why does Cutter hit so many show Curtain parallels? He might torture, enslave, and kill people, but he's gonna get them a good meal first.

Good for you Doug, turning down the wine. I'm proud of him.

This is a sweet moment between Doug and Lovelace. I gotta say, since I'll be reacting to this section by section, it's nice that they have it broken up a little like this so I can reach a section and then get to a stopping point if I need to.

I'm just worried about who is going to die. These conversations feel like goodbyes.

----------

Minkowski. I know you miss your husband. But...yeah, ARE you ready to go back?

YEAH WE'RE DOING THIS! To borrow from Eris's words: "Let's beat the bad guys 🥳"

----------

Quiet Rachel.

LET'S GO MINKOWSKI. WHO CARES WHAT CUTTER AND PRYCE WANT?

Wait. Destroy a whole species?

Are they talking about humans?

...are they ecofascists? Eugenicists? Pryce is literally disabled, how the heck...

"Only stay if you have to." Well, it sounds like you all have to.

"Hera what did you say to her" "Something a friend once said to me" 🥰🥰🥰

"I'm starting to think these guys are my kind of stupid" GO JACOBI!

"Adorable corpses 🥰" Rachel you suck!

"Come with us. You're still people, you're still on our side, even if you don't think you are." Very true. What do you think Pryce and Cutter will do to YOU when they have what they want? They'll dispose of you too.

"You're allowed to make mistakes as long as at some point you admit that they're mistakes!" "I was wrong and people died. All I can do is not be wrong again" "You knew what you were getting into" "No I didn't. I didn't know I was getting into mind control and reducing people to nothing. There's a line. And you're almost out of chances to get on the right side of it." PREACH!

"There is no line. Forwards. Always forwards." FORWARDS TO WHAT RACHEL? WHY HAS NO ONE SHOT HER YET?

"Thank you, Daniel, and goodbye." Oh so that's how it is. Goodbye Kepler. I look forward to your last minute sacrifice.

Character arcs woven like a quilt.

"We're going to crush them" Yeah, let's do it!

A full reboot? Worth the risk? That kind of stuff always worries me.

Is this Maxwell's notes? It's hard to recognize the voice on the recording. "She really was something special" Oh it is Maxwell.

----------

Ah. Another flashback! Jacobi meeting Maxwell.

Looks like Kepler got an important text.

"Cool stuff with robots" good work Maxwell. The best scientists can always dumb it down.

"The Whiskey speech" 😂

"You're one of the best. You're gonna do great things. It's the last nice thing you'll ever hear from me. Except: you need anything I got you're back. No matter what happens, I've got your back. I'll take you up on that." 😭💔

Oh it's okay. Take my heart. I didn't need it.

----------

"Are they going to do the smart thing?" "Well who are we to deny them an agonizing death?" Shut it Cutter.

They put a tracker on Jacobi? See I knew Rachel was a snake. So is Kepler, but at least he's gonna take a bullet for someone or something. My money's on Jacobi, but I could be wrong.

----------

Yep. Eiffel logs everything.

"I never got the chance to say I'm sorry. YOUR DAD LOVES YOU, YOUR DAD LOVES YOU SO MUCH." 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔

"Don't let anyone tell you that you can't do something. You can go so far. I wish I could be there to see it. I love you Ann. Always and forever."

AKJLS;DJFKL;SJF;ALSKDJFA;KD

Time to go? Oh. The comms room? Oh, right. Poor Doug.

"One more day, and then we're done." This is so sad.

Wait...what is happening? OH SHE LIED. SHE'S TAKING EIFFEL HOME TO PROTECT HIM. SO HE CAN SEE HIS DAUGHTER? DON'T DO THIS TO DOUG! DON'T DO THIS TO ME.

"Go home Eiffel, hug your daughter" OH HE CALLED HER RENEE!

This leaves me with so much feeling.

Eiffel can't leave he's the main character. Who will make pop culture references? Who will save the day through the power of random associations, luck, and good intentions?😭😭😭

I hate that they the bad guys know exactly what happened too.

"I'm so sick of this happening!" Use too Doug.

Oh "For god's sake just let me change the flight plan!" So that's what the F stands for. The lore I've been waiting for.

"People need to know what's coming?" Minkowski...I get why you did what you did, but HERA DIDN'T GET TO SAY GOODBYE.

----------

Is this Minkowski's flashback?

Oh when Minkowski met Hera.

"I heard units prefer to go by their serial numbers..." "I don't" Good for you Hera!

I love this. I love these flashbacks, but they just make everything so much more sad!

----------

Ah. More piano music. Does this mean we're back to the bad guys, or...?

Is this Cutter playing the piano?

"The Tempest. Do read a book sometime. Is this the best use of our time?" Pryce and Cutter are really the most toxic people.

"A storm is coming. And on the other side..." "Oh Brave New World." "That has such people in it."

Yes, Pryce and Cutter. People. As in humans. As in: NOT YOU.

"How have they decided to throw their lives away?" "By destroying the device"

WHAT DEVICE? What are you talking about?

Heck yeah a harpoon! I hope Cutter gets it.

----------

"This is Minkowski. I love schedules and musicals and that man who I married." 😂 1-2-3-4-5? It was a good guess Doug. Would have worked in my fanfic.

Okay here comes Victor...

...um what is happening? What is this?

...a surprise party? Sounds fun! 🪩🥳

Oh right, the bio tracker. I'm happy to see Jacobi pulled one over on him. Now shoot him! Please tell me that was Victor that got shot.

They...they trapped him in the room. "Tell me this before I kick your ass" Why on Earth would he ever tell you anything Victor?

----------

Okay, so they are blowing up Pryce and Cutter's evil device, but...what is the device? What ARE they doing? Did I miss it? I'm sure they're doing something to enslave or kill all of humanity, but I'd like the specifics.

"The Hephaestus has almost fallen out of the sky so many times, it's hard to believe it's happening." Well...the show isn't over until it's over.

Is this a Lovelace flashback? A date? A date with who? Oh, Hilbert. Not that kind of date then. Oh, this is her introducing Hilbert to the crew he's going to betray.

"Prudent to keep things formal" to avoid the guilt.

Selburg. Once again with the constant fake names. Dmitri. Matthew.

Though I think Miranda has always had hers.

----------

Yeah Doug. You've listened to her say it so many times. This is like me trying to drive in my hometown. No, I wasn't paying attention in the car as a kid, I was not the one doing the driving. I just zoned out and we got from point A to point B by magic.

Oh, Minkowski. "Get up and do it already. You can do it."

Yes you can Doug. You are the main character. You are the guy that's gonna swoop in at the last second when Cutter pulls one over one them. So you CAN do it. I believe in you, Eiffel.

"Victor Uniform Lemma Charlie Alpha November VULCAN" I knew it must stand for something! Good work Doug!

----------

Oh dear. More of Pryce and Cutter's marriage falling apart.

"Time to change the world." Or you could not. Maybe you could just not.

WHY IS THE DEVICE RUNNING? WHAT DEVICE? WHY DOES HE NEED TWO MINUTES?

Please explain this? Oh of course he has a speech.

Oh he's talking to the dear listeners, not the Hephaestus crew.

Ah. The Decima virus. Thanks a lot Hilbert. DEPLOY THROUGHOUT THE EARTH? He wants to cause a pandemic????

Automatic, can't be stopped, destruction of human race? But why would the aliens care? Oh because Cutter wants them to talk to HIM? But the aliens prefer Doug.

As do most others it would seem. Hurts, doesn't it, Cutter? All those years of experience and work, and yet, you still just can't have what he has, can you?

Ah. It's Bob. Did he just shock Bob? No temporal jumps, no disintegration?

"Remarkable and cold" No Bob, you saw Doug! It's just them. They don't need to be cold.

Willing to disrupt species survival??? What piece of tech do they want? Surrogates?

They want to fill the world with people they can control?

"You can't make duplicates of our species." Bob, they are worst than you can ever imagine.

"We're going to make better humans." "That is not the way that-" "Random part out of the equation" That's a bad idea. Do you know how evolution works? Do you know the negative side effects that have come out of selective breeding of animals? The unintended consequences? To quote Miranda from earlier in the episode: READ. A. BOOK.

"Our Humanity" Gross.

HOW ARE THEY ACCEPTABLE? IT'S MUSIC. WHY ARE YOU THAT DESPERATE FOR MUSIC?

Oh here is comes. Betraying Rachel and Warren.

OH TELL HIM BOB.

"Your brains can't handle it without modification. I cannot with my limitations. Do you have Doug Eiffel?"

Hahaha...hahahahahahaha....HAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHA..... 😂😂😂😂

Oh boy...oh Cutter is gonna snap. If only Doug had just kept going...

Oh wow okay Cutter has lost it. What happened to emotionally playing the piano and giving speeches about how the time had come?

oh geez no, Doug is back. Doug, no, they need you for the evil plans. This is a good idea, but very bad timing.

"He wouldn't" Oh he WOULD. He really really would.

Show 'em how it's done Dougie Boy!

"I'll get it" No you will NOT Miranda.

Kepler, now is a great time to betray Cutter and Rachel. A really good time.

Also is Victor dead? I'm trying to keep track of how many bad guys are gone.

----------

"You're the only person who can receive the data Pryce and Cutter want" Oh dear.

"With my life darling, with my life" 🥹💕

So what is Hera going to do?

"Lets make sure at least someone makes it through this" YOU ALL NEED TO MAKE IT.

"Let's go get our idiot back" That's the spirit baby!

----------

Oh dear. Jacobi. "Terrific for an SI-5." Wow.

"I'm gonna win!" I hope so Jacobi. But it sounds very not good.

Oh and here's Doug. And um...other Doug. Aka Bob.

Bob. Do not do this.

That was it? "You shall not call me again" "No Bob. I shall not."

THEY KILLED BOB.

"I hate loose ends"

I mean, I saw that coming, but dumb idea. I'm SURE Bob's family will be cool with that! Oh right, he just...recreates himself. But this has got to be trippy for Doug because Bob takes his form. Imagine watching a clone of yourself die.

"Pryce is not right?" DANG IT DOUG, I WAS GONNA USE THAT PUN IN MY FANFICTION AND NOW I CAN'T (WELL MAYBE I STILL WILL WE'LL SEE WHAT HAPPENS HERE).

"Let's make a deal 🥰" Wow Pryce is the worst. Again, very trippy how much she sounds like Doug.

Wait. GOING IN? What does. What does "going in" mean? Don't go in, I don't like going in?

Ah yes. Going into someone's mind. I've done that in my fics before too. Fun stuff. And um...it's because you're disorganized Doug, I hate to tell you.

"That was...that was...that was..." OH SHE DESTROYED THE MEMORY. OH SHE TOOK THE MEMORY?

This is...horrifying. She could take his daughter away. She could take Hera, Minkowski, and everyone and everything away.

HERA! HECK YEAH!

Oh my gosh is she actually here? Like as a person?

This is everything.

----------

Ah yes, confrontation with Cutter.

Cutter has modified his body or he has a magic shield.

He can catch bullets? Of course he can.

I wouldn't try hand to hand combat either. I bet he gave himself super strength.

There has to be a weak spot. He has to have a weakness. But what could it be...

...what is the opposite of a chai latte?

----------

Ah. Back to Jacobi.

Kepler this would be a GREAT TIME to come in and get your arc. "I'm not a good guy" oh Jacobi. What's happening now? Oh has he been pretending to lose this fight to buy them time? What is happening? It's hard to tell.

----------

She's always been interesting, Pryce! You’re just noticing now.

"You don't look like me." Disappointed, Pryce? Sad that she’s better than you?

And the fact that all these AI want human forms...this is so sad. They structured them based on human consciousness so of course they want human bodies and experiences, that's just cruel.

Wait Doug got beat up in the 2nd grade? The Star Wars Prequels? "I might be okay without that one" No one tell him about the sequels 😂😂😂

"Of course you can. You can do anything." 💕

"You and what army, 214?" The sounds in this really makes the fight sound super epic. One of my favorite parts of the whole thing.

----------

Oh gross not Rachel again. Why is she still here?

And Kepler. Dude, you wanna hurry it up? Grab your arc or go, the clock is a-ticking.

"We're changing what humanity can be." you suck Rachel.

Pulse beacon, half power? What does that mean? The signal wouldn't have made it back to Earth?

"We have tell Mr. Cutter." "Do we?" KEPLER THIS IS IT!

YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES!!!!

He gave you a chance, Rachel. He gave you a chance. "After all, I am still a person. I'm on Jacobi and Minkowski's side. Even if they don't think I am"

And even if they never know you were.

Is she gonna blast him out the airlock? Rachel, you're dying, it's over! You were wrong! The best thing to do is let him live!

He's literally drinking as he goes out the airlock. My...my wish came true. But this isn't how I wanted it to... why now? Why like this? 💔

It's a true sacrifice though. Because even though no one will ever know, he still did the right thing.

You became more than just a Whiskey Boy in the end Kepler. You became so much more.

Rachel, no so much. You were never anything. It doesn't matter if Warren was not as good as you. Because now you're both dead. And your life, well...you were never anyone. Or at least, you haven't been anything or anyone for a long, long, time. So be quiet now.

Silence at last.

----------

HOW CAN CUTTER GET HER TO POINT HER GUN AT MINKOWSKI? WHAT...WHAT DID THEY DO?

Well this isn't good.

Ah yes. Back to Jacobi. Looks like Kepler's not coming to save him. But at least he took care of Rachel.

Explosives? Fireworks? Oh this is a party! 🎆🎇🧨

Well that was a grand surprise party! But um...does this mean Victor and Jacobi are dead now?

Ah back to Lovelace and Minkowski!

"It's...side wave radiation!" Okay, thank you Cutter, now we know what we need to shut down.

"Humans who do exactly what we tell them to do" "You're crazy"

Yeah. He is literally crazy.

OH SHE SHOT HER??? Oh no....Oh no please tell me SOMEONE makes it out of this.

What really did happen the night of Doug's junior prom? Sounds interesting.

Fishing with Dad? Okay these memories are getting personal.

Wait, what did Doug do?

What are they going to do? Oh they could delete the memories Bob put in there. But they need to find them before Pryce.

----------

Shut up about the stomach wound Cutter. No one cares. This isn't rewriting a person. And THAT'S NOT WHY PEOPLE CARED ABOUT HER YOU IDIOT. And without your intelligence and tech, who. are. YOU, CUTTER?

Renee Minkowski! YES! Tell him!

Lovelace you can fight this. I know you can.

Shut it Cutter. No one cares.

"Sooner or later, you're gonna do as your told" And sooner or later, you are gonna lose everything, Cutter.

"You really think I'm afraid of you?" "THE BEAUTIFUL THING IS I DON'T NEED YOU TO BE"

Please tell me they have the harpoon gun.

IT WAS THE HARPOON GUN? OH HECK YEAH!

"That's...not...how...this is suppose to..."

Yes, it is Cutter. Like you said. You know how these stories end. The good guys win. They might lose a lot in the process, but, they win.

Is he dead now, like, for real dead? I don't want to celebrate too early but MAN what a way to go.

He and Rachel even died in similar ways to. It's like they short circuited when they realized they didn't win.

----------

Ah Pryce. "I don't need to beat you. No matter how much I want to, no matter how much you deserve it, it wouldn't change anything. What I need to do is make sure you're not going to hurt anyone else again ever." That's right!

"I'm not going to hurt you." OH SAY THE CLIP YOUR WINGS LINE COME ON COME ON COME ON.

"Clip your wings a little. Goodbye Dr. Pryce."

So...Hera's gone now. So what is about to happen?

Oh no. Is she...is she gonna delete both their memories?

"Bye bye to my memories?" Oh Doug, oh poor Doug. His daughter, everything...oh Doug this sacrifice will not be forgotten. 🫡 This is so Milligan coded of him (@/tmbs mutuals).

"You can't. Don't do this." "Oooo...sorry buddy, we gotta" YEAH THROW IT BACK AT HER EIFFEL!

And goodbye. I hope you have a second chance with your daughter. I hope you never remember the trauma. All a bad dream. All a bad dream.

"Do you have any idea what you've...I'm sorry...what was I saying...where...where am I?" Oh my gosh the way her voice changed...and she apologized. Oh my gosh. She's literally a new person.

So...memories gone? Where does this leave her? Oh this will be fun in fanfics. Imagine having no memories, and people are weird about it, and then finding out that before you were basically the worst person to ever exist. How would you even mentally cope with that?

"Yeah commander, it's going." No, Doug! Doug!

"It was an honor, sir" Oh this is so sad.

"Hera...Hera I...I..." You know Hera. You were in his mind. Please tell me you know.

Oh. He's gone. 💔

----------

WHY IS RACHEL BACK I THOUGHT WE TOOK CARE OF THAT?

Oh it's her and Eiffel meeting, okay.

"Are you just asking if I'm the commander? Yes." I love Minkowski and Doug's friendship.

"Never use one word when ten will do" oh Doug...never change. Even if your memories are gone, I hope you find yourself again.

He didn't know you couldn't smoke in space? Oh Doug...at least now you can quit.

----------

"Do I know you?" Yes Doug. Yes you do.

She's briefing him. He...he doesn't remember Star Wars???

Well. At least he gets to watch it all again!

Wait. What's happening to the station? Are they...are they going into the star?

Oh no. So it's up to the dear listeners to save them, or...they just die here. Heroes. Heroes that everyone on Earth thought were dead already.

Oh she's rebooting now.

"Should we be doing something?" Oh did Renee pass out?

So...is Doug on the ship alone without his memories? What's happening?

----------

Where is Renee now? Lovelace? Where? What? The Urania? How?

Did they leave Pryce on board? Did Jacobi get out?

Oh good Hera, Minkowksi, and Lovelace made it. Jacobi did it! Nice work, Jacobi. Oh gosh he's so dramatic 😂

So I assume Doug made it too?

"What about Kepler" "No." Oh so, they must have found Rachel and discovered what he did. "You can't save everyone I suppose"

But you did save him, Jacobi. You did save Whiskey Boy.

And then where is Doug?

Oh he's listening to himself.

"I was a jerk" There's a lot worse things you can be, Doug.

It does make you wonder. If you looked at your life with a blank slate, what would you think? How would you be kinder to yourself? How would you be more critical?

"Am I still that same person?" If you want to be, Doug. If you want to be.

And what happened to Pryce? Please tell me you did not give her to the dear listeners.

IS THIS PRYCE?

Oh Hera and Pryce. "Your voice is like mine, isn't it?" "Nice to meet you, Hera." Oh. Oh my gosh. Pryce calling her Hera.

"And I'm...I'm going to tell you a very, very long story about the two of us, okay?"

I hope this ends well...

...please be a good guy, Pryce.

----------

Hey guys. Guys. Quick question.

Why are there 10 minutes left?

I um...I like this ending. They're going back to Earth, all is well. Please tell me nothing bad happens.

What happened with Pryce? Hera hasn't glitched at all? She did it. She conquered her fear. GO HERA! But um...what about Pryce? Is she...is she good?

Minkowski needs to find her husband. And yeah...you guys have a lot to figure out.

Lovelace...yep. Take Goddard down. Good idea. Explain to your friends you're an alien with extended lifespan...might want to break that gently.

Take who out?

Oh the ship. Is this it? They're going home? Please tell me they're actually going home. Don't tease me like this.

Oh right, what will Hera do now? I'm sure you'll find something.

And yeah. Doug might not know who he is, but he knows there are people he should see. And then...he'll figure it out. They'll all figure it out. "Am I still Doug Eiffel? I'm not sure. Want to find out together?"

Yes. I love this. 🥰

I also love how it connects to "will I miss you, when you go away forever Doug?" Yes, but he's not gone Hera. He's not gone.

----------

Five minutes left. So...what is that for? Do we finally get to meet Doug's daughter and Minkowski's husband...or…

That was wolf359! Oh it’s just the credits!

Great ending. But...wait. No wait. I'm confused hang on.

How did Jacobi escape from Victor to get the Urania? How is Hera going to survive on Earth? How did they fix those wounds? If the Hephaestus went into the star...

Wait. These aren't more alien copies are they? Oh wait, no Hera's here, sorry y'all I panicked for a moment. They duplicate human lives, but as far as I know, not AI. Also, if this was a happy dream sequence, why would Pryce be there? Okay, phew, we're good. We're...finally good.

And even if they are alien copies...the process will take 14,000 years. So. For the rest of their lives, at least. Especially since...they're still using Lovelace to spy on Earth. For the next 14,000 years. But I guess that’s a problem for future generations.

Okay. Great ending. Thoughts:

Cutter got what he deserved. So did Rachel, but I feel a bit sadder that she never realized the pointlessness of her life until it was too late (and really not even then). Also love that Cutter's original last name was "Newman" since he keeps making himself into "new men".

Kepler's sacrifice was great no notes. I hope he enjoyed the Whiskey.

Blessie should have come back, and in fanfic, I will find a way to make this happen.

Eris should have come back, and in fanfic, I will find a way to make this happen.

Are the Dear Listeners just going to leave Earth alone now? If the Hephaestus went into the star...does that mean they can make Rachel and Cutter copies? Because I don't like that...

I love that the aliens weren't the biggest threat in the end and Cutter was always the real monster.

Is Pryce cool now? She doesn't want revenge, does she? Like what do you even do with her at that point? (I have plans for this, don't worry).

How do they dismantle or repurpose Goddard? Cutter probably has guys still loyal to him on Earth or people who are gonna try to be the next Cutter now that he's out of the picture. How do you deal with them?

Okay...so the decima virus can be used for great good and great evil. Cutter apparently had stations with it set up all over the Earth. I hope no one stumble across one of those anytime soon. What exactly are they going to do about decima? It's still swimming about in Eiffel's blood.

Is Minkowski's journalist husband going to blow this case wide open? I hope that after her brief phone call with his secretary, Cutter didn't kill him to keep the rumors from spreading.

Will the families of all the other astronauts that died ever get closure? I know we don't want this getting out and causing panic, but they deserve answers too.

When. Is. The. Empty. Man. Going. To. Show. Up???? /j /It was Cutter the whole time because he has no humanity

Well that was fun. Again, the fanfic will probably take a good long while (I put off a lot in order to listen to this ending), but I look forward to mapping it out.

Once again, thank you all for listening along with me. This has been fun.

Now, to figure out how to unblock those pesky tags...

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