#my coworkers and i have. a Point Of Contention about this (like we all agree vs our Nebulous Boss)

[halflingkima]

is it just me. who is so angry when libraries have books in series but not the first one. like tbh i don't care if you've got the first one and not the rest, but you've got book two?? and not one?? you've got book 12?? but not one?????

i understand things happen to library books but i would THINK. that'd be an item of priority. to replace the first book in a series. if something were to happen.

[lovelyhan]

— melting point ⟢

rumor has it that icy department head of pledis insurance has something going on with her loyal secretary, wonwoo. well, she does—it's just not the kind of behind-closed-doors business one would expect for them to partake in.

★ FEATURING; secretary!wonwoo x afab!oc

★ WORD COUNT; 12.3k words

★ TAGS; coworkers to lovers, revenge fic, angst, smut

★ WARNINGS; blackmailing, manipulation, mentions of past bullying, graphic sexual content (MINORS DNI)

★ NOTES; hi... it's been forever, hasn't it? i missed tumblr a lot, and have decided to grace the tags with this fic after months of radio silence heheh ! this was a commissioned piece on twt which i tweaked to fit my tumblr audience better! cheers to 5k followers even in my absence t__t you guys are the best!

★ PS; i'm sorry i can't be bothered to dig up my taglist and tag those who filled it up T T

There’s a saying in PLEDIS Insurance that goes: enjoy your coffee early because once the Ice Queen is in, it’ll turn just as cold as she is. 

Of course, the words were merely thrown around in jest. Something that bored employees come up with in the break room whenever they’re careless enough to think their little jokes won’t reach said ice queen’s ears. But still—they’re just jokes. As long as they worked enough to satisfy their salaries’ worth, Emma the Ice Queen would always turn a blind eye. She might be cold, but she isn’t completely heartless.

Most of the time.

“Good morning, ma’am,” her secretary, Wonwoo, greeted with a curt nod as she entered her office. 

Emma scoffed before setting her things down on her work desk, the frown on her face only worsening when she sees the elegantly wrapped gift box in front of her. “What's this?” 

Wonwoo swallowed thickly, like he was nervous. Wonwoo never gets nervous.

“We have an...unforeseen circumstance,” he prefaced before tapping away on the iPad in his arms. “Sir Leo from the Choi group wants to pursue you.”

“Unforeseen?” Emma repeated. “Wonwoo, this is completely foreseen. Isn't it our from the start is to make them fall in love, only for us to expose their dirty secrets in the end?”

He looked as if he wanted to agree. But after turning the screen of his iPad so Emma could see the article written on some shoddy newsletter, her brows furrowed together in confusion.

A Race for the Inheritance: How the Choi Group’s Next Generation of Ambitious Youngbloods Will Do Everything to Get Their Fill of Old Money. 

The title itself didn’t give Emma much context of what exactly was making Wonwoo—her ever-composed secretary—lose his composure. It’s natural to see the sons and daughters of a powerful business conglomerate fight each other for their rights to the family inheritance. But after reading through what the rest of the article had to offer, the pieces of the puzzle suddenly started to fit.

“They're seeing who gets to get married first?” Emma laughed incredulously before handing the iPad back to Wonwoo. “Does Leo really think he can get me to become his lover—even more so his wife—after everything he did to me in high school?”

Wonwoo breathed in deeply. “Miss Emma, we both know the answer to that. If it were all up to you, you could easily put him to shame and reject him. But his interests somewhat align with the director’s interests as well…”

Ah. Her father’s interests.

“No,” she answered sharply. “Even if he kicks me out of my position, I’m not going to be wed to that prick.”

“Are you sure about that?” Wonwoo sighed before adjusting his glasses. “Miss Emma, we both know you love your work more than anything. And you're chronically attached to this company even if you despise the executives. Sir Leo has good leverage over you, sad to say.”

There was something irritating about hearing Wonwoo call his ex-best friend Sir, as if he was underneath some scumbag of a human being like Leo. But then again, years have passed since then. Lots of things have changed. 

But Emma’s grudges hold steadfast, still.

“Hmph, whatever.” She dismissed the matter with a nonchalant wave before unwrapping the gift box in front of her. “Was this from Leo, too? Is he on a deadline or something?”

“Hmm, first one that gets married before December gets the rights to the inheritance,” Wonwoo informed her as he picked the clutter of ribbons off Emma’s desk and pocketed them in his coat for later disposal. “Do you want me to look up the progress of his siblings and cousins? We can sabotage him while it's still early.”

Emma didn’t respond right away—preoccupied with unwrapping Leo's so-called gift. But when she sees a red velvet box with an engagement ring and a folded letter inside, she begrudgingly realized that Leo wouldn’t be as easy a target as her other high school bullies.

No, this man really was rotten to the core.

By the time you’re reading this, I’m sure you already heard the news. You know what to do, right, Emma?

Or should I say, wifey? ;)

“Send this back to him. Now.”

Wonwoo nodded obediently as Emma pushed Leo's cursed gift box away from her. “Alright. Anything else I can do for you? Like…have someone plant a snake in his bedroom or something?”

Despite the sour mood that Leo undoubtedly put her in this morning, Wonwoo's little idea of a joke made the corners of her mouth turn up into a small smile. The offer was tempting, but in the end, she shook her head and booted up the PC on her desk instead.

“As much as I want his death by a snake bite to headline the news, Leo doesn’t deserve to get out of this the easy way.” Emma muttered as she started browsing through the hard-drive she’d hooked up onto the computer. “And lucky for us, I finally got the evidence to send his suspiciously prosperous career down into a spiral.”

Wonwoo raised an eyebrow before taking a peek behind her. “What's that? Money laundering records? Tax fraud?” 

No. It was really something as simple as—

“Footage of a mass orgy he participated in,” Emma casually told her secretary as she clicked on the only video on the hard drive. “Might not look like a big deal compared to what we had to go through with Ezra, but Leo belongs to a family of devout Catholics. Good thing your contact from Leo's favorite bar had some use. All I did was ask around and he quickly spilled all the details with the right amount of money.”

Wonwoo chuckled as he flashed her an impressed look. “As far as I know, I’m the one who’s supposed to do the dirty work for you. Why are you directly involving yourself in matters you can leave to me?” 

The lewd video continued to play on her screen—muted, of course—and one could easily make out Leo Choi's face amongst the crowd of sex-depraved freaks. Once they sent this over anonymously to each and every person who might think that scumbag deserved to inherit his family’s wealth, it would be all over for him.

“‘Cause we’re a team, Wonwoo,” she chuckled. “You’ve done your fair share of work when we took down Gavin and Ezra. But admittedly…I've got more bones to pick with Leo. I think it’s only fair for me to orchestrate his downfall with my own two hands.”

“Right…” Wonwoo agreed with a hint of fondness in his tone that completely went over Emma’s head—far too triumphant with her newfound ammunition. 

“We’re a team.”

But it wasn’t always that way.

Wonwoo was actually more deeply involved in Emma’s mission to exact revenge on the people who’ve wronged her years ago than one would otherwise expect. He’d been best friends with Leo since they were kids, and when they eventually met Gavin and Ezra in their high school basketball team, the four of them were quite inseparable. 

But despite being his best friend, Wonwoo knew that Leo could be quite…off-putting with his behavior sometimes.

“Hey, look at that,” Sixteen year-old Leo scoffed before gesturing towards the loud girl earning amused stares in the cafeteria. “She's so fucking loud. Is she the new transfer student?”

Gavin snickered as he took a bite out of his lunch. “How'd she even get in here? Our tuition isn't a joke, and she doesn't really look like she can afford it. The kid of a maid, maybe?”

“Or she could be one of those financial scholarship kids,” Ezra pitched in with a shrug. “Though she doesn't look very bright if we're being honest.”

Wonwoo didn’t offer anything to the conversation, merely eating his food quietly as his friends talked smack about the new transfer student in their class. Emma Rodriguez was like a piece of meat thrown into a pit of vipers. Some might like her—like the classmates who were howling with laughter because of her antics—but others looked at her with disdain. 

She didn’t belong to any wealthy well-known families like every other kid in their grade. The girl simply popped out of nowhere like an eyesore, according to Leo. Wonwoo didn’t really mind her presence though. She made the boring monotone of his school days a bit more bearable with her energy.

But what Wonwoo thought was just his friends’ surface-level dislike for a girl who behaved differently from the others in their grade turned out to be something else.

Something worse.

He wasn’t stupid. He knew what bullying was, and was well-aware that what his friends constantly did to Emma wasn’t something that normal high schoolers did. Leo was the most vicious about it, and Wonwoo never really got to know his reasons for doing all those horrible things. 

But whenever they spotted Emma horsing around in the hallways, Leo would always be the first one to come up to her—calling her names like fraud, gold digger, and the like. Gavin and Ezra followed each and every time, and they were usually the ones who pushed her around for no real reason.

And Wonwoo? Wonwoo was the one who always stood a few feet away every time his friends decided they were in the mood to pick on the transfer student. The one who always stayed quiet and pretended nothing unsightly was happening in front of him.

The one whose gaze Emma always tried to silently catch, hoping he’d be the one to stop his friends from harassing her. 

But he never did.

That cycle of three boys bullying a once bright and bubbly transfer student became commonplace. Before their third year in high school came to a close, Emma suddenly vanished off the radar. She didn’t attend their classes, nor was she there in the completion ceremonies at the end of every school year. 

Most of the kids around Wonwoo didn’t really give two shits about her sudden disappearance. Word around the street was that she transferred out because of the heavy harassment she was getting, not just from his friends, but also the rest of the students from their grade. They didn’t think Emma was funny because of her silly antics and loud jokes anymore.

Everyone started to collectively think of her as a nuisance, and the fact that she had no familial connections to protect herself with only fed into the senseless yet oh-so popular trend of crushing Emma Rodriguez’s hopes and dreams into the ground.

It was almost like Wonwoo was the only person in their entire grade who felt the tiniest bit of pity for her. But he told himself long ago that someone like him had no right to feel sorry for someone he never bothered trying to help. 

The years passed by in a flash. After Emma’s disappearance, Wonwoo quit the basketball team and  completely cut off his friends and everyone else who actively hurt her. He didn’t really know why either—all he knew was that he couldn’t stomach the idea of keeping those connections despite what they drove Emma to do. 

Of course, he knew he wasn’t completely innocent either. But it wasn’t too late to be a decent person, right?

Wonwoo simply went through the motions of graduating high school, then college, before pursuing a career in the vicious world of the corporate hierarchy. But instead of gunning for executive positions like his fellow fresh grads dared to dream, he worked his way up without using his family’s prestige to his own advantage. 

In fact, Wonwoo realized he liked working closely with his bosses. That’s why he became the designated secretary to all the finance department heads who walked through the doors of PLEDIS Insurance. He was content with being a jack-of-all-trades kind of guy who’s at the beck and call of someone else—a tool who worked on the sidelines. He never really wanted to be the face of any company anyway.

But then, in his fifth year on the job, he was told that there were a couple of changes in PLEDIS’ executive board. The boss he’d been working under was set to retire and he’d be replaced with a new one—someone younger and full of promise, as the head of human resources dramatically explained to him. 

It wasn’t really a deal breaker or anything. As long as Wonwoo got paid, he’d gladly work for even the most terrible of people in this industry.

But on the day his new boss was set to start, he was haunted by a ghost from the past instead.

Wonwoo hasn’t spared a single thought for Emma Rodriguez in God knows how long. Yet the moment she stepped into the office, he recognized her almost immediately. There was no trace of that girl people called gold digger and other derogatory names because of her appearance. This was a woman with her head held high—someone who oozed confidence in every stride with a gaze sharper than her winged eyeliner. 

Yet Wonwoo couldn’t be mistaken. This really was Emma Rodriguez.

He wondered if she remembered him, too. The boy who kept quiet about those who bullied her in those few crucial years of her life. Wonwoo even considered apologizing for not doing anything to help her when he should have. 

“Ah, Wonwoo Jeon?” Emma repeated his name with a dismissive air, almost like she was wholly uninterested in him. “The one who just watched when Gavin Kim pushed me in the muddy courtyard at school? The one who pretended not to see when Leo Choi splashed paint all over my uniform? Of course I remember you.”

God. Was this her exacting retribution?

For the next few days since she came into the office, Wonwoo helped Emma get used to the feel of things in the Finance Department. At least, that was his intention. 

From the looks of it, Emma already knew the ins-and-outs of managing a company’s cash inflow and outflow, as well as the other gritty, more technical details that came with accounting for each and every cent. She managed to prepare and present several sets of data that his previous boss had trouble organizing to the current board of directors within two days’ time. 

Her work ethic was admirable—she got the job done quickly and efficiently, and that made her earn the respect of her subordinates faster than Wonwoo had seen them warm up to their previous bosses. It would have been the perfect relationship between the new department head and her employees, if it weren’t for Emma’s stone cold behavior towards other people. 

Not only did she look different from the Emma he knew in high school, but she acted differently too. Wonwoo couldn’t picture this Emma purposely making a fool out of herself just to make the people around her laugh. This Emma wanted the entire team to get the work handed to them done as soon as possible, and if they did, the most they’d receive in return is a mere nod in approval and nothing else.

It was for that reason that employees would start calling her the Ice Queen. Though she wasn’t some tyrant that gave people an unreasonable workload—she was actually very lenient and fair about the division of tasks—her people skills needed a little work. 

That or Emma was purposely shutting everyone out with her chilly attitude. 

Wonwoo had a few clues as to why she’d want to do that, but he’s a secretary, not a therapist. The only thing he could do about it was to keep his silence.

But then came a day when Emma asked him to come into her office to do something he completely expected from her but didn’t at the same time.

“Are you still in touch with Leo, Gavin, and Ezra?” she asked him, not even bothering to look up from the report she’s reading off her PC.

The question caught Wonwoo off-guard and it was obvious Emma caught on to his reaction if the tiny smirk that curved across her lips was anything to go by. Still, he took it in stride—breathing in through his nose as he thought about his answer.

He hasn’t been in touch with any of them since his high school graduation. All their attempts at reaching out to Wonwoo to invite him for a quick game of ball or a round of drinks somewhere in the city were all ignored. Not even turned down—ignored. 

Leo was the most persistent about it. After all, they were best friends. But after several years of Wonwoo not even bothering to give their invites a single glance, Leo stopped reaching out altogether. Wonwoo's life became a lot more peaceful since he cut ties with them, and he never really regretted the decision to do so. 

But perhaps the universe really was telling him to pay the price for his past inaction now that Emma was bringing up the past on a regular Wednesday afternoon. 

“No, ma’am,” he told her honestly. “Do you want me to reach out to them? Their contact details are pretty easy to get our hands on.”

Emma sighed quietly before meeting his gaze, an unreadable look hovering across her face. “Mmm. Yeah, I’d like that. But aren't you going to ask why I want to contact them again?”

He wanted to, but Wonwoo learned that in his line of work, the last thing he should do was ask questions. It made him wonder if Emma was purposely setting him up on some sort of conversational bear trap, but seeing as he didn’t really have anything to lose by giving, he chose to relent. 

“...Why?”

The silence of her office rang in his ears as Emma typed away on her keyboard. It was a mechanical one with tactile switches that matched the color of her desktop wallpaper. He didn’t take her to be someone who cared enough about aesthetics to that degree, but then again, Wonwoo never really got a chance to get to know her back then. 

He was too much of a coward to do so.

Once she was done, Emma got up from her ergonomic chair (which also matched her desktop setup), leveling her gaze with Wonwoo's even if the latter was easily a head taller than she was. Something about the glint in her eyes made him swallow the lump in his throat. Not to mention that sweet yet chilly smile that graced her bright red lips.

“It’s really simple, Wonwoo,” she told him with a laugh. 

“I want revenge.” 

And that’s how their little team was formed.

It was a two-person job. Emma entrusted Wonwoo with digging up the information she needed about the three men she wanted to bring down, all while she was in charge of putting their plans into motion by heading over to the front lines. 

Gavin was an easy target. Unlike the other two, he’s the only one who pursued professional basketball and for a while, he amassed quite the number of fans and admirers because of his outstanding plays. What’s more was that he managed to wife up a beauty queen who’s already conquered the international stage a few years back. Now with their first baby on the way, one would think that Gavin Kim has a picture perfect life.

But further down the road, talk about how he’s actually a womanizing wife beater started to seep out of the cracks and crevices of the athletic industry. The allegations were serious, but no one really bothered batting an eye. It’s normal. Lots of athletes are like that. We can't do anything about it.

It was easy to get a hold of which gym Gavin frequents to maintain his physique. He preferred working out in public facilities instead of the one provided for his team because it gave him all the freedom to ogle and flirt with other women who just happened to be hitting the gym on days he was on the prowl. 

Wonwoo even added a little footnote in the file he prepared that said likes to engage in post-workout coitus in the shower rooms. Emma rolled her eyes in disgust when she read it, but made sure to keep it in mind.

The day finally came when she’d collect enough evidence to ruin Gavin’s career. Emma hasn’t dropped by the gym in a while—work having sapped her energy too much to let her psych herself back into working out. But she realized she didn’t have to act out too much because the moment she started operating the treadmill right next to Gavin’s, he was already checking her out.

He didn’t seem to recognize who she was, unlike Wonwoo. But then again Gavin was easily the stupidest out of her trio of high school bullies. This man was all brawn and no brains, which was why it was all too easy for Emma to seduce him in the showers of this shoddy gym not thirty minutes since she’d arrived.

It wasn’t the most pleasant experience. The last thing Emma wanted was to have this idiotic man inside of her so she offered to go on her knees and blow him instead—something that Gavin was all too happy to relent to. 

He didn’t even boast a cock of considerable size. It probably wasn’t any longer than her middle finger, and for a split second, she wondered why his beauty queen wife stayed with him despite having a cock that didn’t back up his cocky attitude. It was probably the money.

Emma didn’t waste much time though. Wonwoo visited this gym only a few hours prior to plant a bug somewhere inside the specific shower stall they were currently occupying. She just had to hope she and Gavin were positioned well enough so the camera would get a full view of what they were doing. 

It was the longest twenty minutes of Emma’s life, and she had to go home right away to disinfect her mouth about ten times, but hey. All in the name of vengeance, right?

At around eight in the evening on that same Saturday, her phone lit up with an email notification from Wonwoo. 

From: Wonwoo Jeon  Subject: CLASSIFIED Good evening, Miss Emma. I hope this message finds you well. I retrieved our bug from the gym earlier today and extracted the videos taken before properly disposing of it. Attached to this email is the MP4 file of our evidence against Mr. Gavin Kim. Around the time this message arrives to you, I have simultaneously sent said evidence to Mr. Kim’s managers, sponsors, teammates, other colleagues, and of course, his wife.  The only difference between their emails and yours is that this is a self-destructing message. Once you’ve closed this window, it will be deleted from your inbox without a trace. So if you are interested in watching the video below, best save it to your device of choice for better perusal. If you have any further questions and concerns, I am merely a text message away.  Regards,  Wonwoo Jeon Secretary, Finance and Logistics Department PLEDIS Insurance 

Like hell she was going to watch it.

The moment Emma finished reading through Wonwoo's overly formal email, she quickly exited the window and, true to his word, the message itself had disappeared. Despite being a fairly new player to the game, she had to commend all the precautions Wonwoo was setting to make sure her plans were a success. 

It made her wonder if his previous bosses have also asked him to do shady things under the company’s nose in the past. Whether or not that's true, she was reaping the benefits of his expertise, so she had no room for complaints. 

As long as she had Wonwoo, she’d get to punish everyone who wronged her without fail.

Gavin’s downfall followed soon after. 

Tabloids were their best friend in that scenario. The thumbnail of the video that Wonwoo spread around like some virus that wouldn’t stop replicating headlined every single paper, talking about how one of the most promising basketball stars of their generation had fallen prey to his own vices.

It was a good thing that not only was Wonwoo careful enough to not leave digital footprints as he sent out those emails, but he also edited the video to keep Emma’s identity a secret. As Gavin’s world started to crumble before his eyes—him being kicked off the starting roster of the team, his wife leaving him behind, and the public execution of his reputation—Emma simply shared a bottle of aged wine from Tuscany with the man who helped her pull off a wonderful performance.

“You’re not too bad,” she mused as she took a small sip, crossing her legs from where she’s seated unceremoniously on the edge of her desk. “You're surprisingly more on-board with this plan than I thought. If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were never friends with Gavin in the first place.” 

Wonwoo retained his stoic demeanor, not having touched the glass Emma offered him simply because it was against company regulations to intoxicate himself on the job. “If my boss tells me to ruin someone's life, I'm mandated to do it. I’m just doing what’s written on my job description, ma’am.”

Emma’s lips stretched into a grin as she threw her head back with a laugh. She leaned in closer to Wonwoo, who seemed wholly unfazed by the fact that the gesture granted him an ample view of her cleavage through her blouse. 

“Does your job description cover watching and editing your boss' sex scandal so you can mass send it to hundreds of people?” She giggled before leaning back to take another sip of her drink. “You’re in the green for now, Wonwoo. Keep it up and I might just have a pay raise arranged for you with HR if our next escapade is a success.”

He hummed in understanding. “Who’s next?”

In usual Emma fashion, she didn’t give him a straight answer right away. Instead, she hopped back to the carpeted floor of her office—not even wobbling in those thin heels she’s wearing—before rounding her desk to access her computer. 

“Have you been watching TV lately? Primetime soap operas?” she asked him as she clicked away on her screen. 

Wonwoo shook his head. “They don’t really interest me, ma’am.”

“I figured they wouldn’t. But this might.”

Emma gestured for him to peer at her monitor and Wonwoo wordlessly followed suit, getting up from his seat and standing behind her. Flashed on the screen was an article from a more reputable news outlet that featured two co-stars who played the main couple in a popular network’s newest drama. 

“Ezra Lee and Alaina Park…” Wonwoo muttered under his breath before his eyes flickered to Emma. “You have any leads I can work with?”

His boss chuckled before looking up at him with an expectant smile. “Someone's determined. I never thought I’d get to see someone so eager to do the dirty work for me.”

Wonwoo shrugged. “Miss Emma, I'm not sure if you're aware but desk work gets boring sometimes. You’re right. This is a lot more interesting.”

“Alright, then,” Emma chuckled before retrieving both of their wine glasses and handing Wonwoo's back to him. “Unlike Gavin, I don't have a lot of surface-level leads with Ezra. He’s a celebrity—their reputation needs to be squeaky clean, so it makes sense why I can’t dig up anything about him through regular means. But this should be a piece of cake for you, right?”

Wonwoo stared at the bright red liquor inside the expensive glass, gaze darting to the wicked smile playing on Emma’s lips. If he looked a little closer, he would be able to tell that the shade of her lipstick matches the color of the liquor in her hands. 

He took it from her grasp with a sigh, clinking the edges of their glasses together before downing the entire thing in one fell swoop. The wine was aged well, and had somewhat of a sweet aftertaste, but despite the appealing flavor, Wonwoo reminded himself to never drink on the job ever again. 

“I’ll get back to you once I have the information you need.”

Wonwoo swiftly left Emma’s office after that little victory party. Even with his new sideline of being his boss’s lead henchman, he still had a lot of work to do for PLEDIS Insurance. And that included telling the other employees to quit horsing around in the break room when their designated lunch break ended hours ago.

“Sir Wonwoo,” one of said employees, Soonyoung, snickered before throwing an arm over Wonwoo's shoulders. “You've been hanging out in Miss Emma's office pretty frequently. Is there something going on? You became close real quickly.”

“Yeah” said one Seokmin, who’s still snacking on a wafer despite Wonwoo's scolding. “Boss, we know you're not the fuck-your-way-up kind of guy, but who knows, right? But with your position right now, do you really need it?”

Seungkwan, the last member of their unruly trio, slapped Seokmin’s arm with a scowl. “Hey! Do you really have to say it to his face? Oh, boss, if you make a report about these two, please know I have nothing to do with whatever they're saying.”

Soonyoung snickered. “Are you sure about that? Weren't you the one who first noticed that Sir Wonwoo was stepping inside Miss Emma's office more frequently—”

“Hey! Boss told us to scram, didn't he?! Let's go.”

Seungkwan quickly ushered his two friends out of the break room, scolding them in a hushed tone before they all went back to their respective cubicles. Wonwoo shook his head with a sigh, muttering something about inevitable rumors as he made himself a cup of coffee.

Was that how they perceived Wonwoo’s sudden closeness with the department head? That he was fucking Emma in the solitude of her office? Well, the idea of a boss having illicit relations with their secretary wasn’t too far-fetched. He’s heard about how the head of the Advertising Department gets frisky with his secretary through the corporate grapevine. But just because it was a popular trope among the employees’ strange fantasies, it didn’t mean it applied to himself and Emma as well.

They were strictly professional: he did the dirty work and she paid him in full. That was all there was to it.

(But what people don’t know was that editing Gavin’s scandal wasn’t exactly the walk in the park Emma thought it was.

Despite being one of the most indifferent people in the company, Wonwoo was still a man. Seeing his boss, whose body would be coveted by anyone who dared to want her, in such a compromising position excited an…unexpected physiological reaction out of him.

His resolve was as sturdy as steel, however. Instead of taking care of the obvious problem in his pants as he edited the scandalous video, Wonwoo dealt with it by taking a long, cold shower until all the blood that rushed down south started circulating properly again.

He told himself not to think about it come morning.)

“A drug den?”

Even Emma was baffled by the news that Wonwoo brought her the following week—a scowl of disbelief permanently etched on her face as she scanned the file her secretary prepared for her. Wonwoo merely stood at her side, waiting for her to finish going through the data he’s gathered. 

And he sure hoped she understood every single word printed on it. He practically risked his life trying to investigate Ezra’s secret business. No wonder it was so hard to dig up any dirt on him—dead men tell no tales after all.

“This is…” Emma swallowed thickly before continuing, “way above my expectations. If he was just getting faded on his own with a private dealer, I'd understand. Lots of celebrities do recreational drugs. But for him to head an entire operation? Where'd he find the time on top of his taping schedules?” 

Wonwoo sighed. “I would’ve been able to investigate further if his men weren't so meticulous. They're fiercely loyal to Ezra. Couldn’t bribe him like we did with Gavin’s gym coach.” 

“And you made sure to keep your identity under lockdown?”

“Positive.”

Emma drummed her fingers across the smooth surface of her work desk—brows furrowed as she stared into nothingness. Though they’ve only been working together for roughly six months at most, Wonwoo knew her well enough to realize she hit a wall.

It made him wonder if this was where she would draw the line. Their success with Gavin gave them both an unexpected high, sure, but Wonwoo recognized that this game they were playing was a dangerous one. The people they were trying to take down had more money and connections than the two of them could ever hope to get their hands on. 

But one thing that he failed to recognize right away about Emma was that she’s always been grossly ambitious. 

“The file you gave me also mentioned na he was hoping to insure his new house in Incheon,” she pointed out. “Care to tell me why you decided to include that?”

“I know you told me not to involve the company in this as much as we can, but I couldn’t think of any other way to penetrate into his circle.” Wonwoo adjusted his necktie, suddenly feeling like he’s being watched by the hawk that was his boss. “I’ve been told that he’s wary of people. Side effects of the cocaine, probably. Though the info broker sounded like he was joking, it’s best to be wary of him. If he can hide behind the protection of his management and his family, we need to play our cards right and protect ourselves, too.”

Emma took a moment to process what her secretary just told her, nodding slowly before closing the folder containing Ezra’s file and locking it inside a hidden drawer beneath her desk. 

“Oh, Wonwoo. If only all men were as intelligent as you are,” she sighed, getting up from her seat before pinching his face. “Good work. Let's go out for drinks later. My treat.”

Wonwoo's face twisted with confusion. “For what? Doing my job?”

Emma rolled her eyes. “For going above and beyond every single time. You think you're only good at doing dirty work? At being my errand boy? You never fall behind your quotas here in the office either, you know. I think that in itself is a cause for celebration.”

Now that she’s reasoned it out, Wonwoo was even more weirded out by this strange turn of events. In the six months that Emma Rodriguez has spent as the head of PLEDIS Insurance’s Finance head, she never failed to uphold that arctic cold façade. She treated both executives and regular employees with the same degree of cut-throat harshness. 

And that’s when Wonwoo realized that she didn’t really treat him the way she treated them.

Huh. Did the Ice Queen have a melting point after all?

Despite his extensive protests, however, Wonwoo let Emma rope him into grabbing dinner and drinks at a food hub several districts away from their office. The fewer people who could recognize them outside, the better. Of course, he pleaded and reminded her several times that she was his boss and she really didn’t have to—

“Hey! Keep drinking!” Emma slurred with a huff, face red from the alcohol as she pushed another pint of beer into Wonwoo's face. “Why aren't you drunk yet, huh, Wonwoo Jeon? Are you God? Maybe that's why you're so good at obtaining information for me. Ah! No! Maybe you're the devil! Right, what we're doing isn't exactly good nor is it legal…”

Wonwoo exhaled long and hard as his boss continued blabbering nonsense across from him at their shared table. One glance at the smartwatch on his wrist told him that it was near midnight and that he should probably bring Emma home before she could make a scene. 

But…maybe they could stay for a few minutes more.

“Miss Emma? Are you sleepy?”

“Hm? Why would I be sleepy? We're drinking, aren't we?” 

“You're half-asleep on the table, so.”

At the prospect of being called out, Emma quickly shot into an upright position—looking around to see if anyone caught her drooling. When she realized she was in the clear, she narrowed her eyes at Wonwoo.

“Not a word about this in the office,” she warned, using one of the finished barbecue sticks on their empty plates to threaten him. “But...yeah. Alcohol makes me sleepy. Drive me home.”

Not even a please. This woman was really shameless even when drunk.

Not a peep of complaint was heard from Wonwoo when he drove Emma all the way to her condo unit in uptown Poblacion. Though he had to practically carry her inside and even help her out of her clothes and into her pajamas (at her request, not his own initiative), he simply told himself this was all part of his job. 

When his boss was safely tucked in bed, he was ready to bid her farewell and head back to his own place to catch up on some sleep. But for someone who was intoxicated beyond belief, Emma was still quite aware of her surroundings. The moment Wonwoo took a step away from her bed, her hand shot out to grab ahold of his wrist, making Wonwoo look back at her with an eyebrow raised.

“Wonwoo,” she murmured, face still smothered in her pillows despite her tight grip. “Can you stay?” 

“There's nowhere for me to sleep,” he chuckled. “I should go.”

“Then sleep next to me.”

The furrow on his brow merely deepened. He’d ask her to repeat what she said, but Wonwoo could recognize that Emma wasn’t really in the headspace to be reasonable right now. So instead of refuting her wish, Wonwoo carefully pried her fingers off his wrist so he could take off his work coat and fold it neatly on top of her vanity table.

This is all part of the job, he told himself.

Wonwoo laid on his boss’ duvet perfectly still. He didn’t want to make the mistake of touching her when he didn’t have explicit permission to do so. He was merely told to sleep next to her after all—nothing else.

But about fifteen minutes after he lied next to her, Emma shifted on her side of the bed—turning to him with a sleepy look in her eyes.

“You know,” she whispered, so softly, he would’ve missed it if he wasn’t as observant as he was. “I hoped...so hard back then that you would help me when I needed it. But you never did.”

Emma probably won’t remember what she mumbled in her drunken stupor in the morning. But the sadness and honesty that underlined her words sent him back about ten years into the past. To a time when he was a much greater evil than those who directly wronged her.

An apology sizzled across the tip of his tongue—something that’s a decade overdue. But before Wonwoo could hope to let her hear his piece, Emma’s breathing had become even and shallow. 

She was already fast asleep.

He sighed, staring up at the dainty ceiling of her bedroom as he chuckled helplessly to himself.

“That’s why I’m making up for it now.”

If Gavin’s case was a walk in the park, Ezra’s was an Olympic-level marathon.

Wonwoo didn’t want to dwell on the details anymore. To cut it short: he was going to cross out ‘exposing a notorious drug lord’ off his bucket list without thinking of doing it again ever. While he managed to get out unscathed during his investigation, it just so happened that their final altercation with Ezra ended up putting Wonwoo in the hospital. 

But so what if he fractured a couple of ribs trying to save Emma from being killed by that drug-addicted lunatic? As long as their goal to bring Emma’s enemies down was achieved, he’d gladly sustain any life-threatening injuries.

Which was, admittedly…strange. 

Long before Emma came into the picture as his boss, Wonwoo never would’ve pictured himself risking his neck for the benefit of someone else. Though he had an entire arsenal of skills and knowledge at his disposal, it would take more than just his generous salary to get him to put them to good use.

But with Emma, he found himself utilizing whatever means to help her exact her revenge—on people he once called his friends, much less.

He must be going insane. 

“Wonwoo…?”

Funnily enough, he ended up recalling everything that happened over the past two weeks first before recognizing that he was just regaining consciousness in the intensive care unit. Wonwoo's eyes hurt because of how bright the fluorescent lights were overhead, but for some reason, he didn’t flinch away from her relieved smile when it was a million watts brighter than the hospital’s indoor lighting.

“Good…day, ma’am,” he croaked out awkwardly, belatedly realizing that he didn’t know what time it was. “What day is it? Did someone fix your schedule for today? Did someone go over your meal plans in my stead? Were you—”

His endless stream of questions was interrupted by hacking fit—making Emma scramble for a glass of water on the table by his hospital bed, a concerned look lining her gaze.

“Don't talk too much,” she scolded him as he finished his drink. “You’ve been out for two days, idiot.”

Two days? 

Needless to say, he couldn’t do a thing about it once his boss started fussing over him. She called over doctors she personally knew and handpicked only the most competent of nurses to look after Wonwoo. How Emma could be the judge of that, Wonwoo wasn’t very sure, but he gladly let her take care of him for a change. 

After all, they successfully concluded another chapter in Emma’s little revenge story.

“When are we going to start with Leo?”

Wonwoo brought the matter up about three days after he woke up, right in the middle of eating the stale hospital food served to him for dinner. Emma, who was snacking on some takeout fast food, hummed before tossing a french fry into her mouth.

“You're not even healed yet, and you're thinking about work?” she sighed before pointing a fry in his direction. “I’m still paying you your regular wage even if you're stuck here. You don’t have to worry about making ends meet so much, Wonwoo. You just need to rest—”

“But I don’t want to rest, I want to be useful to you,” he interrupted her gruffly, which was strange of him because he never interrupted his employers. 

For a moment, Wonwoo thought he’d be on the receiving end of a verbal lashing even if he was still recovering. Emma never let other people talk back to her without consequences. But instead, his boss threw her head back with a laugh that bordered on a snort. It’s a look that Wonwoo had seen on her time and time again—a look that he noticed Emma only showed to him. 

Back then, he didn’t really think of her smile all that much. But now…

“You’re being useful enough just by being alive, Jeon,” she reassured him, that grin of hers unwavering. “Enough questions about Leo. I'm not even thinking about him yet because compared to the previous two? He’s a lot easier to track down.”

Wonwoo shot her a puzzled look. “What do you mean?”

“Same approach lang with Ezra.” She flashed him a toothy smile. “We’re going to get him to insure some of his properties under PLEDIS. But instead of us going to him, he'll be going to us instead.”

“I…? Sorry, ma’am. I don’t follow.”

Emma stifled a soft laugh behind her palm, unwrapping the burger included in her takeout meal before taking a bite of considerable size. “The Choi Corporation is expanding a chain of shopping malls somewhere in Jeju. Leo Choi personally contacted our CEO and there we have it: another big shot client.”

Another person to drag down to hell.

“Is that good enough for you?” 

Wonwoo was still processing the news as they both finished up their respective meals. He should probably be glad that Emma didn’t decide to put their secret operation on hold just because he was out of commission. But something about how smoothly they’re progressing into the next phase of Emma’s big revenge plan that made him wary of treading any further. 

He felt like he was being paranoid—probably the aftermath of almost crossing to the other side because of what happened with the Ezra incident. Wonwoo couldn’t help but be wary of any and all threats to both his life and Emma’s, and it was for a good reason.

“Okay,” Wonwoo breathed, wincing a little when he felt the spot where his ribs broke ache at how fast he inhaled. “What do you want me to do for now? Investigate? Trace his whereabouts?”

Emma’s smile suddenly turned ice cold. “I want you to rest, Wonwoo. Do I have to keep repeating myself?”

“But—”

“No buts. Boss’ orders—I'm your boss, right?” 

Ah, there’s the Ice Queen they all knew and loved. 

Fine. Maybe he could use a break from all that quote-unquote field work he just did. But one thing about his entire hospitalization still remained unanswered.

“What did you tell HR? About…this?” Wonwoo gestured towards his battered but healing body. “You’ve got the charisma, but I’m pretty sure it’s difficult even for you to go into cahoots with the other employees of PLEDIS. Much more, our human resources head.”

Emma waved away his concerns with a shake of her head. “You're so persistent, aren't you? Don’t think about HR. Or Leo. Or the rest of our plans. Can’t you be a normal salaryman and be happy that you have a break from all the things I make you do?”

“I told you, Miss Emma. I just want to make myself useful.”

“And I told you that you're the least useful in your current state. So give. It. A. Rest,” she threatened, putting emphasis on every syllable. 

But behind her intimidating façade was someone who actually cared for him. The details were still a bit muddled in Wonwoo's head, but he remembered being rushed to the hospital in an ambulance. Remembered how Emma never let go of his hand as they made the trip all the way. And how he heard her pray for him to make it out alive despite being a well-known agnostic.

Once their conversation had mellowed down, he laid back against the steady elevation of his bed, watching the scenic city lights glimmer outside the window of his hospital room—just behind the woman who made his life a lot more interesting.

He couldn’t wait to be useful to her again.

“I hate this. I fucking hate this so much.”

Wonwoo spared his employer a quick glance as she practically glared at her reflection in the full-length mirror. He’d been browsing through a sports car catalog tucked underneath the hotel’s coffee table, but watching Emma have a furious meltdown about her wedding was more worth his time. 

“You're the one who said that there'll more benefits if you accepted the marriage proposal,” her secretary reminded, crossing his legs as he leaned back on the couch he was sitting on. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“Of course I was just…gaslighting myself about this entire fucked up situation!” Emma growled as she stomped over to him with a scowl. “Can’t fucking believe my dad agreed to marry me off just like that, too. After all his talk that I needed to love whoever I'm supposed to marry...”

Wonwoo shrugged. “Anyone can be blinded by money—especially if it's from the Chois.”

“Even you?”

It’s a question that sunk into the room with a rhetorical implication. Emma was quick to exchange the earrings her stylist chose for her with something more suited to her taste—a pair that didn’t sparkle all that much but was worth more than six months of Wonwoo's salary. In her reflection on the vanity mirror, he could clearly see the way her red lips parted in concentration as she clipped the earrings in place. 

“No,” Wonwoo responded even if he knew she wasn’t looking for an answer. “I’m more easily blinded by other things, ma’am.”

Emma glanced behind her with a puzzled look, not getting his drift. “Like what?” 

Wonwoo didn’t dare think twice. 

He got up from his once comfortable position on the couch, closing the distance that sat between him and Emma in long, calculated strides. She didn’t seem fazed by his sudden need to walk over, but the moment Wonwoo was behind her, she stiffened when he reached a hand in front of her face. Then, with a firm yet featherlight touch, her secretary wiped off the lipstick that stained past her lip line with his fingers—not once breaking eye contact with her in the mirror. 

“It wouldn’t be fun if I told you, now would it?” He smiled before pulling his hand back. “I need to keep you on your toes sometimes, too, Miss Emma.”

He half-expected her to scoff and brush off his attempt at being smart with her. Emma was a no-nonsense kind of person, and with the wedding happening soon, Wonwoo understood why she’d be more high-strung than usual. 

But instead of acting the way she always did with him, Emma took Wonwoo by surprise when she fisted his silken necktie in her manicured nails, tugging him down so that their eyes were leveled with each other. Normally, that wouldn’t be enough to wrestle Wonwoo into complete submission, but this was his boss they were talking about.

There’s a glint in those sharp eyes of hers that had his heart beating off the charts. This wasn’t the gaze of someone entitled the Ice Queen of their office. No, there’s something warm in there—borderline sensual. And before Wonwoo could even hope to figure out what it was, Emma was already closing her eyes and sealing their lips together like some unspoken pact. 

It’s an inconsequential kiss. Wonwoo has made out with both men and women alike—all desperate gasps and lust-fueled passion—but somehow, none of those experiences could hold a candle to the way Emma Rodriguez pecked his lips for a fraction of a second before pulling away. 

“You're getting more and more insufferable,” she muttered, resting her forehead against his. “You were never this cheeky before. What happened?”

You, he wanted to tell her. You happened.

At that point, Wonwoo's brain was merely operating on carnal instinct alone. He lunged forward to capture her lips again, making her gasp in surprise as he snaked a strong arm around her waist. Thank fucking god Emma’s wedding dress had a simple design—no pretentious frills to obstruct his movements. 

Despite the fact that this woman—his boss—was getting married in less than two hours, Wonwoo couldn’t even give a damn. He swiped all the makeup boxes and accessories off the vanity table, propping Emma up on the horizontal surface as he kissed her until she saw stars. 

“Wonwoo,” she sighed against his lips, thighs inching apart as he bunched the long hem of her gown up to her waist. He wondered distantly if Emma was going to ask him to stop—to see reason. But the glazed look in her eyes told him otherwise.

“More.”

Wonwoo wanted nothing more than to give her more. He’d do everything she could ever dream of asking him. Never mind the fact that it was more than a little messed up for him to consider fucking his boss right before she’s married off to the man who tormented her endlessly at sixteen. 

Nobody else mattered—not Leo, not the director, not even Emma’s intricate revenge plot that was years in the making. At that moment, only the two of them existed, only separated by a few layers of clothing before they could finally become one. 

But Wonwoo was abruptly reminded why he always chose reason before ambition long before he met Emma. Dreams and delusions were bound to end when you least expected them to. Reality, on the other hand, would always remind you of life’s harshest truths.

“Miss Emma?” They both could hear the voice of Leo's personal assistant outside the door to the hotel room, preceded by a few short knocks. “It’s time for your prenup shoot. Director Rodriguez is also looking for Sir Wonwoo. Is he in there with you?”

Whatever dream the two of them have fabricated only minutes ago had been erased from existence—all that was left was a bride-to-be with her dress ruffled in all the wrong places, and a pitiful secretary with red lipstick stains adorning his face.

“Yeah, he’s here with me,” Emma yelled over to the doorway, eyes refusing to part from Wonwoo's. “We’ll be down soon. Thanks, Christina.”

“Okay, ma’am. I'll just wait for you in the lobby.”

Wonwoo counted to ten before peeling himself away from Emma, quickly striding towards the bathroom to get some tissues both for himself and his employer. But while he was wiping off the lipstick on the corners of his mouth, Wonwoo immediately noticed the shift in the atmosphere.

Emma was already busy straightening herself out—smoothing down the creases in her gown and retouching her makeup as best as she could without her stylists. Wonwoo wouldn’t have minded the silence, it’s exactly the kind of setting he preferred working in. 

But just when he thought he’d managed to melt the Ice Queen’s heart over the past year, she turned arctic cold all over again. 

“After the wedding, tell my driver to accompany me to Leo's penthouse. Though I despise the idea, we have to go home together to keep up the act for everyone to see.” She gave her orders the same way she used to tell Wonwoo to sort the company’s financial reports—straight to business with little room for playing around. “Other than that, I don't have any more orders. You can rest easy for the day, Wonwoo.”

He felt like he should say something to address what just happened between them five minutes ago. To ask why she was pretending as if they weren’t breathing each other in like all the oxygen on the planet had gone in a flash. But Wonwoo wasn’t some desperate fool that overestimated his place in Emma’s life. 

“Duly noted, ma’am,” he muttered with the same degree of aloofness she’d just given him before tossing the soiled tissues in the trash. “I’ll be waiting for you outside.”

Emma didn’t even break face as Wonwoo's footsteps resounded on the carpeted floor. She didn’t even spare him a second glance. But then again…

He was her secretary, and she was his employer. 

That was all there was to it.

Much to Wonwoo's surprise, Leo's case was closed much sooner than he thought it would be.

Before Emma could even make it to the cathedral, the commotion had already started. Wonwoo had arrived earlier in the venue with Emma’s father, the director of PLEDIS Insurance, and were just about to take their seats among the other principal sponsors when the television screens mounted all over the church suddenly started playing a video.

A video that Wonwoo has already seen before.

He didn’t have to glance at Leo to know that he was sporting the most horrified look he could muster upon seeing one of your many sex scandals having an impromptu screening at the cathedral. Collective gasps and disgusted remarks were heard in a chorus of murmurs that reached all the way up to the high ceilings. 

Wonwoo could hear Leo's assistant, Christina—who turned out to be part of the sex parties her boss secretly indulged in—barking orders for the church staff to cut the feed. But it was too late. Those who needed to see the truth have already gotten their fill.

Recognizing that his daughter couldn’t possibly be wed to a man with a reputation that’s been tarnished in a church, of all places, Director Rodriguez ordered Wonwoo to contact the bridal car driver and tell him to send Emma straight home instead. It’s a job that Wonwoo got done fairly quickly, and despite the numerous text messages that Emma sent him demanding answers about what happened, he didn’t respond to any of them right away. 

After a few hours of digging around, Wonwoo eventually found out that one of Leo's cousins was behind the public exposé. Apparently, said cousin was able to obtain the same footage that Emma acquired and was able to sabotage Leo's attempt at seizing their family riches before Emma could even put her plans into motion. 

Well, at least someone else already did the dirty work for them.

As usual, Wonwoo collated all the information he’s gathered in a concise email. This was how he kept Emma up to speed about their progress—through self-destructing emails. He informed her about the involvement of Leo's cousin and how the trash had taken itself out, ensuring that Leo Choi had fallen from the false pedestal he’s clung onto for years.  

Their behind-the-scenes mission has been fulfilled.

While he didn’t expect Emma to respond enthusiastically, receiving radio silence in return wasn’t something Wonwoo had anticipated either. But he opted not to read into it much. She must’ve been royally pissed that Leo's demise wasn’t brought about by her own hand, and Wonwoo respected that.

The following Monday after the canceled wedding, however, he ended up finding out the reason behind her silence. 

“Boss,” sobbed Seokmin when Wonwoo timed in at the office. “Please don't leave!”

Immediately backing him up was Soonyoung, who didn’t hesitate to hug Wonwoo, even giving him a few pats on the shoulder as if they were old drinking buddies. “It's okay, Sir Wonwoo. You've been here long enough. Maybe it's about time you found your path elsewhere.”

…Huh?

“What are you talking about?” Wonwoo voiced out his confusion. “You’re speaking like I got fired.”

As if on cue, the third member of their trio walked in on the conversation as he sipped on his usual iced americano. Seungkwan stared at Wonwoo with a puzzled expression before saying:

“But weren't you fired, sir? Miss Emma announced it this morning, but I think she left right away after, too.”

Not privy to the way the pieces started to click in his head, Seokmin and Soonyoung kept consoling Wonwoo as he made his way to his (old) cubicle. Emma had been one step ahead too—someone already having packed away most of his belongings in storage boxes. Not to mention the notice of contract termination sitting on his desk. Effective immediately, it says.

“I really don't get it though” Seungkwan droned behind him. “You? The best secretary in the city? Fired just like that?”

Seokmin nodded. “I don't understand it either. You two were business-as-usual after the wedding. Miss Emma must've been so pissed that she didn't get married that she laid off the boss here.”

“True,” Soonyoung agreed with a snicker. “Boss, maybe Miss Emma's just being unreasonable. I bet she'll be begging for you to come back in a few days' time.”

Yeah. That’s what the situation would seem like to an outsider. But Wonwoo knew perfectly well that Emma wasn’t bluffing about this. She fired him for a reason that’s been stewing for more than a decade. Even if Gavin, Ezra, and Leo have had their taste of justice, Emma’s revenge plot wasn’t finished like Wonwoo thought it was.

Because Wonwoo was one of her targets all along, too.

I hoped...so hard back then that you would help me when I needed it. But you never did.

“Where is she?” 

Seungkwan perked up. “Uh, maybe she went home? She told us something about feeling a bit under the weather?”

Seokmin nodded. “She's probably in her penthouse or something. If i were you, I'd start making it up to her.”

“Hey, you're talking like they're actually dating,” Soonyoung scolded with a laugh.

Not even bothering to thank them, Wonwoo turned on his heel and made a beeline for the office entrance—dead set on doing exactly what Seokmin jokingly suggested.

This is why I'm making it up to you, he mused with an exasperated air as he buckled up in his car. 

Can’t you just let me in?

Emma spent her first Monday after the entire wedding disaster with Leo holed up in her unit—stuffing herself full of ice cream. The only reason she bothered going to the office today was to formally announce that her secretary Wonwoo Jeon was fired—just like she’d been planning since the moment she met him again as her secretary after all these goddamn years.

Her high school bullies have been put in their place. Her fifteen-year revenge plot was finally over.

But why did she feel so fucking depressed about it?

She sighed pitifully when she realized she’d already emptied her tub of double dutch ice cream, finally deigning to get up from the couch to deposit it in the kitchen for later disposal. But just when she was about to continue moping in her living room, the doorbell to her unit buzzed from the entrance, making her glance that way curiously.

It could be her next-door neighbor. A kind, elderly woman who lived with her daughter. She borrowed Emma’s rosemary spices yesterday—something that she barely used because she often opted to go for food deliveries instead of whipping up her own meals. 

With that reasoning in mind, she didn’t bother checking who was at the door through the peephole. She simply undid the locks before opening the door—only to come face-to-face with—

“Hey,” Wonwoo sighed as he jammed his foot between the door and the doorframe. “Ma’am, please talk to me first. Did you think I wouldn't catch onto what you were trying to do?”

“Why do I have to explain myself to you? You’re fired, right?” Emma growled as she pushed the door with her back, but sadly, Wonwoo easily overpowered her. At least he was decent enough to not let himself in—he simply lingered out in the hallway with a placid look on his face. “What?”

“Emma,” her ex-secretary addressed her for the first time without any formalities. “If you fired me as vengeance for not helping you all those years ago, I get it. I deserve it, even. But after what happened sa hotel…

“You can’t convince me there’s nothing between us anymore.”

Her breath hitched, face growing warm at the reminder of that intimate moment they shared hours before she was supposed to get married. Whenever she closed her eyes, she could still feel Wonwoo's mouth on hers. But that wasn’t a thought that was healthy to entertain at the moment.

“What are you saying? That was all part of the plan, you know?” She bluffed with a mirthless laugh, fully turning to face him as she crossed her arms. “Make you smitten enough with me to let your guard down. Look, you didn't expect me to fire you, did you?”

“No, but you can’t fool me, Emma,” Wonwoo chuckled with a self-satisfied smirk. “You wanted me too—that was real. If I’m mistaken, then make me leave. Call security on me. If I’m the nuisance you so desperately want me to be, then get rid of me here and now.”

The silence was thick between them. Emma was practically shaking with frustration as Wonwoo stared down at her with that overconfident look on his face. She wanted nothing but to punch him, hit him, slap him—

Kiss him.

Maybe Wonwoo was right. Maybe Emma did want him more than she led herself to believe. 

Because why the hell did she fist the front of Wonwoo's work shirt before pulling him inside her penthouse? Why did she slam him against the door, earning a sexy groan from him as she crushed their lips together?

Was this a healthy way to deal with your current predicament? No—definitely not. But it felt too fucking good to pass up on.

Wonwoo, however, was all too quick to regain control—hooking one of Emma’s thighs around his waist as she gasped into his mouth. She could practically feel him smirk against her lips, and though she’s loath to admit, it only made her want him even more.

“You’re not getting rid of me that easily,” he chuckled before peppering her neck with love bites. “You might need to kill me first before I stop pursuing you.”

Emma spared him a breathless laugh that quickly melted into a moan when Wonwoo's hand found itself inside her oversized sleep shirt. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were obsessed with me, Jeon.”

His fingers were warm against her skin, and Emma couldn’t help the full-on shudder that racked her body when Wonwoo grazed her bare nipples. The smile on his face was wicked—dangerous, even. 

“Maybe I am,” he chuckled, his breath fanning against her flushed face.

“What would you do if I was obsessed with you, Ma’am?”

Emma was well aware that Wonwoo knew the answer to his own question. It was obvious in the way he quickly picked her up from the floor, fully wrapping both her legs around his waist as he carried her towards her bedroom. But despite the carnal urgency in his grip, Wonwoo was awfully gentle as he laid her down on the mattress.

“Last chance to kick me out,” he murmured against her ear as he started unbuttoning his shirt. “You could exact your revenge on me even better, ‘no? I’m giving you the leeway to frame me for forced entry…among other things.”

God. She knew Wonwoo was a little crazy when he accepted Emma’s orders to help her make his old best friends suffer. But the way he looked at her with such crazed desire further confirmed her suspicions.

And she didn’t want her men any other way.

“Fuck me, Wonwoo,” she told him clearly before stripping her own clothes and laying herself bare for him to feast on—eyes lidded, desiring him just as much as he did her. “That’s an order.”

He shook his head with a chuckle, and Emma had to force herself not to drool over his perfectly built torso. If she had more patience, she would’ve taken her time worshiping every inch of Wonwoo's body, but he’d already set a fire in the pit of her stomach. One that she fully expected him to deal with sooner than later.

“So wet for me,” he observed with a lopsided smirk, pressing their foreheads together as he lathered his fingers with her slick. “Have you always wanted me this way? Do you touch yourself to the thought of me, Miss Emma?”

Yes. Fuck, yes. 

“That’s none of your business, Jeon,” Emma stubbornly insisted, keeping herself from moaning when his lips descended onto one of her hardened nipples. 

Wonwoo made good on the opportunity, using the fingers he’d used to feel up her slick cunt to rub her essence across the other bud he wasn’t suckling on. The effect was near immediate—Emma throwing her head back with a pretty little whimper as Wonwoo started to massage her breasts. 

Fuck. He’d always dreamed of getting to smother his face between them.

“Wonwoo,” she gasped out loud, hips bucking desperately when he bit down on her sensitive flesh. “F-Fuck me. Now.” 

“Demanding.” He pulled away from her sensitive nipples with a pop, staring up at her with a lustful gaze. “You enjoy ordering me around too much, you know?”

“You enjoy being ordered around, too,” Emma pointed out with a scoff, trying her best not to moan too loudly when Wonwoo's fingers started to toy with her leaking cunt again. “Just—I need you. Please.”

Ah, he never thought the day would come when he’d hear Emma Rodriguez begging for his cock.

“Okay, Ice Queen,” he relented with a playful laugh, kicking his underwear and trousers off as he pumped his already hard length. “Since you're so eager for me to fuck you, I’m not going to prep you anymore. You better not cry when my cock splits you open, okay?”

Hearing him talk so lewdly to her made her pussy gush with excitement. What’s more was that, not only was her secretary blessed with a face and body that gods would covet, but his cock was something she was afraid she’d keep looking for even when he was done with her.

He was awfully careful when he first pushed inside of her, sharp eyes riveted on her face as it twisted with both pain and pleasure alike. His size was something that one needed getting used to, and he wasn’t about to make his first time with Emma uncomfortable for her.

No, he wanted her to keep thinking about him even after they’ve had their fill of each other.

“Squeezing me so fucking tight,” he rasped against her neck, licking a long stripe along the column of her throat to make her shiver. “Too bad you already fired me. I always wondered what it would feel like to bend you over and fuck you in your office.” 

He could feel her pussy squeeze his cock even tighter at the shameless image she put in her head, making Wonwoo smirk with pride as he started to move. Emma mewled his name, grabbing his face as he chased his lips. He was all too willing to give her what she wanted, meeting her with an open-mouthed kiss as their tongues clashed together in time with his thrusts.

“W-Wonwoo,” she moaned into his mouth, hips eagerly meeting his. “Deeper. Fuck me deeper.”

And fuck her deeper, he did—Emma’s got him wrapped around her pretty manicured fingers, after all. 

Wonwoo was relentless with the way he pounded her into the bed, the sound of skin slapping against skin ringing much too loudly in his ears. But he didn’t fucking care. The feel of Emma’s velvet pussy walls pulsing around his cock sent his mind into a frenzy—fucking her until the bedframe creaked, until Emma was begging him to give her more, more, more—

All of a sudden, she gasped, “Coming, coming—!” 

If being inside her was life-changing, feeling her cum around his cock sent Wonwoo straight to heaven. Her cunt spasmed deliciously as Wonwoo helped her ride out her high—lips locked together as they breathed each other in. 

“Cum inside me,” she murmured deliriously into his mouth, practically rubbing her breasts—sensitive and littered with all the marks Wonwoo left on them—against his toned chest. “Make me yours, Jeon.”

He didn’t have to be told twice.

“God, I love you,” he sighed a little mindlessly, and those carelessly uttered words made Emma’s eyes widen with surprise before losing herself to the feeling of delirium. 

Wonwoo spilled his load inside her quivering cunt with a long-winded moan, feeling like he’d been shot through the head and was experiencing a level of euphoria that bordered on illegal. Emma moaned at the feel of his warm cum filling her to the brim, bringing him down for another sloppy kiss as the heat of the moment started to dissipate in the quiet atmosphere of their bedroom.

As their breaths started to settle, Emma was the first to glance at him—to meet his eyes. Wonwoo couldn’t find any trace of the arctic cold Ice Queen that practically told him to scram the other day at the hotel.

No, it was just Emma. 

His Emma.

“Can I still take back my verdict?” she muttered softly, inching closer to bury her face in his chest. Wonwoo instinctively pulled her in for a tender embrace, kissing the crown of her head with a smile.

“You mean the contract termination?” Wonwoo chuckled. “Take it up to HR, Miss Emma. I’m just a lowly secretary.”

All of a sudden, Emma rolled over so that she was seated upright on the bed. Wonwoo had to keep himself from groaning at the sight of her—hair disheveled and body sporting all his marks. Seeing her freshly fucked by him was doing things to his libido. 

“You’re not just my secretary, Wonwoo,” she sighed, twiddling with her fingers awkwardly. “I…I wasn’t going to fire you anymore. I got used to your company. I…

“I fell in love with you.” 

The words floated between them like a cloud that couldn’t easily be swept up by the wind. Wonwoo offered her a comforting smile before pulling her into a firm kiss.

“Yet you fired me anyway,” he pointed out with a laugh. “Why? You couldn’t deal with the fact that you fell in love with one of your high school bullies?”

That earned him a punch in the shoulder. “You’re not one of them. You’re different.”

“And you’re in love with me too, no? You said it yourself. Since when?”

Shaking his head, Wonwoo then pressed a soft, featherlight kiss on her nose—one that had Emma’s heart fluttering like she was a schoolgirl.

Gosh, this man. He’s fifteen years too late.

“Maybe I’ve always been a little in love with you. Who knows?” Wonwoo spared her a Cheshire cat smile. “There’s more where that came from though.”

Emma punched him in the chest this time—a bit too close to the spot where he broke a few ribs months prior. But he didn’t care.

She could send him to hell and back and he’d do it for her in a heartbeat.

From: Wonwoo Jeon 

Subject: NOT-SO CLASSIFIED

Good evening, Miss Emma. I hope this message finds you well.

I heard that you dealt with quite a stressful client today. I’m very sorry that I wasn’t here to help you with the matter as I was given tasks to do elsewhere. In order to make up for this lapse on my part, I am cordially inviting you to dinner at 7PM tonight after work. 

Rest assured, the expenses shall be shouldered by me and your only job is to sit and look gorgeous as I wine and dine you for the evening. Sincerely hoping for your most favorable response.

Regards, 

Wonwoo Jeon

Secretary, Finance and Logistics Department

PLEDIS Insurance 

Your boyfriend :)

end notes: this wasnt thoroughly proofread so if you spot some strange errors (aka sentences in a different language bc this fic was partly in filipino) here and there, pretend you didn't see em! as always, ur feedback means everything to me so scream in the tags or my ask as much as you want ^__^

[saetoru]

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。underneath the stars (looking for a sign)

synopsis. al-haitham thinks waking up beside you feels like a dream—well, until it doesn’t

— word count. 4.1k (how did a drabble get here sobs)

— contents. pining al-haitham, honestly it’s mutual pining lol, gn! reader, implied one night stands, consumption of alcohol (both reader and al-haitham) reader is a matra, al-haitham is acting grand sage, it’s basically the “avoid my crush after i accidentally sleep with him until he corners me” trope lol, confessions, brief angst and then a happily ever after, sfw + fluff, not proof read—this was entirely written on tumblr drafts through mobile app. yeah. we raw dogged this bad boy lmao

— notes. if you knew. how many wips i have with him. you would be astounded :,) he’s all that matters anymore

al-haitham wakes up to a bed much softer than his, red flag number one. there’s also a weight on his chest, red flag number two. red flag number three, however, doesn’t make itself apparent until he opens his eyes and sees you.

oh. not good. you’re covered in the sheets, but you’re clearly…topless, and a quick glance at his own torso tells him he’s also not clothed. oh. double not good.

but there’s also a small voice in his head that’s cheering and patting himself on the shoulder—he’s managed to fall into the bed of the very person he’s been quietly pining over for months, what more can a guy possibly ask for?

but unfortunately, his mini celebration in his inner thoughts is disrupted when you open your eyes at the disturbance from his movement—and before he can get even one word in, you shriek. rather loudly, too—it makes him wince at the sound (he’s always had sensitive ears.)

“what are you doing here?” you gasp, “and why haven’t you got a shirt—wait. why haven’t i got a shirt on?”

“well, it seems—”

“you slept with me?” you gasp again, cutting him off as your face twists in disbelief, “while i was drunk?”

“i was drunk too,” he points out, frowning at the accusations. al-haitham is a respectable man, and more importantly, he cares about you too much to take advantage of your inebriated state like that. “it was a two way street.”

that seems to calm you for…approximately two seconds before your face twists in horror again.

“al-haitham,” you wail his name in despair, slumping onto your mattress in defeat, “this is the worst thing we could have done. do you realize that?”

oh. you regret this—the voice in his head suddenly stops cheering. it deflates, in fact.

worst thing. is this really the worst thing? al-haitham thinks you both have always gotten along rather well, and he’s always taken your slightly stuttered words and nervous chuckles as a testament to holding the same attraction he holds for you. but maybe he was too quick to assume you feel the same, and your words now feel like a boulder on his chest. they’re heavy. soul crushingly heavy, in fact—but he keeps the blank expression on his face ever so easily.

“yes, it seems a bit inappropriate for coworkers to have an entanglement,” he agrees after a moment, making you whine at his word choice.

“you don’t have to call it that,” you huff.

then, out of sheer curiosity (and absolutely nothing else), you take a quick peek from the corner of your eyes at his chest. in your defense, his shirt leaves practically little left to the imagination, and when else will you get the opportunity to see his (very impressive) chest? a peek won’t hurt.

you’re thoroughly impressed when your eyes catch his sculpted pecs. his eyes are thoroughly unimpressed when they catch your gaze.

“well, what would you like to do about our predicament?” he asks flatly.

acting uninterested is the hardest part, he realizes. here, you’re within reach for his arm to curl around you, and yet somehow, there still feels like there are miles of space between you in the sheets. it’s a bitter reality, he thinks, one that stings a bit more than he’s ever really imagined.

al-haitham has witnessed lots of rejections in his time. whether it’s at the akademiya where he is the unfortunate witness of a rejected confession, or in novels he reads of unrequited feelings. he however never thought he’d land himself in the same situation—even if he hasn’t technically confessed to you yet. but your reaction definitely feels like one, and he’s smart enough to deduce that if he did confess, you wouldn’t take too kindly to the idea.

sure, it’s a bit unprofessional for the acting grand sage to have a relationship with one of the akademiya’s top matra that he works with rather frequently, but al-haitham is only the temporary grand sage. technically, after this, he will be going back to being the scribe who makes himself scarce on a regular basis. and it’s not very unprofessional for the scribe and a matra to be romantically involved, he’d like to argue. most people meet their significant others through the akademiya in the first place—why should he be any different?

but one glance at your face tells him you’re rather unhappy with this situation. he thinks he can hear a crack where the boulder resides on his chest.

“i think you should leave,” you mumble, chewing nervously on your lip, “and don’t say anything about this to anyone. especially not cyno.”

“noted,” he says blandly. you turn away, letting him have the privacy to rise out of bed and dress—which he does as slowly as possible, just to drag out the feeling of being in your bedroom for just a while longer—before he says clears his throat. “i’ll be seeing you,” he says.

“sure,” you nod awkwardly, “see you at uh…see you at work.”

with that, he walks out of your bedroom, and sees himself out. as soon as you hear the front door shut, you turn and scream into your pillow—the same pillow that happened to be under al-haitham’s head for the entire night, the same pillow that smells like his shampoo.

you think for a moment how you can never wash this pillow case again—and then, when you realize just what you’ve thought, you scream again.

you might just be entirely screwed.

—————

“and where have you been?” kaveh is waiting in the kitchen as soon as al-haitham enters.

great.

kaveh has a talent for making himself available to chatter away into al-haitham’s ear on the most stressful of days. whether it’s to greet him with complaints about having no help with cleaning after a long day of work, or to bang on his office door and demand an explanation for rejected funds as he does paperwork, or to ask where he’s been after he’s been wounded rather harshly by the one person he’s ever felt romantically inclined for, kaveh is always there at the worst possible timing.

leave it to kaveh to sour his mood more.

“i don’t see how it’s any of your business,” al-haitham mutters, grabbing the glass of water on the table and chugging it to help with the slight hangover he nurses—it’s evidently not his best morning in more ways than one.

“hey, that’s my glass,” kaveh scolds, “get your own.”

“it’s actually my glass. from my grandmothers set,” al-haitham corrects his roommate, “and i pay the water bills. so it’s my water too.”

“you—” kaveh shakes with frustration. it would pull a bit of an amused grin on al-hairham’s face if he wasn’t in the worst mood possible. “nevermind,” kaveh huffs, crossing his arms, “where were you—wait, is that a hickey?”

“no,” al-haitham says instantly, pulling his cloak higher to cover his neck—but kaveh beats him to it, reaching over and inspecting his skin. he seems to light up as soon as he realizes it is, in fact, a hickey on al-haitham’s neck.

“it is a hickey,” he grins gleefully, gasping in sheer disbelief that al-haitham seems to have some sort of life outside of work and home, “this can’t be. did you pay someone to get into bed with you—”

“just because some of us can afford such services doesn’t mean we indulge in them,” al-haitham grumbles, which earns an offended gasp from the blonde, “and i’m not obligated to tell you where, or with who for that matter, i was—”

“was it that matra you’re always standing around with?” kaveh grins knowingly, cutting him off.

the mere mention of you must make his face fall—which is new, because al-haitham has always been good at hiding his emotions on his face. but kaveh seems to have realized he’s overstepped, because his smile fades just as quickly as it comes.

“it doesn’t matter,” al-haitham mutters, “it was a mistake.”

“a mistake? but you’ve been pathetically pining for months, anyone with eyes can see—”

“i’ll be going to work now,” al-haitham cuts kaveh off, “make sure you pay this months rent on time.”

with that, he turns, making his way to his room to shower and then be off to the akademiya—where he equal parts hopes he doesn’t see you, and equal parts hopes he runs into you just to catch a glimpse of you again.

—————

you haven’t seen al-haitham is six days—correction: you’ve avoided al-haitham for six days. admittedly, it’s becoming increasingly difficult seeing as he is the acting grand sage, and you do need him to approve of your reports from recent investigations—but then you remember how six days ago, in the darkly lit corner of the street on your way home, you both kissed.

(and yes, it was a drunken mistake—neither you nor al-haitham value public displays of inappropriate affection between coworkers, but that doesn’t erase what happened.)

perhaps it would be easy to laugh it off as an impulsive action the both of you took while being under the influence, but then you both stumbled into your house. and then your bed. and then a kiss turned into more…and then next thing you knew, you’ve been awakened to a very unclothed (but still very handsome) al-haitham next to you in the mattress.

you should be mature and face him—people can sleep with people and not let it mean anything, proper adults would simply brush over this and never look back. but al-haitham is a bit of a difficult scenario.

he’s handsome—painfully so, with those sculpted muscles and those soft strands of hair that fall perfectly over his face. but more than he is easy on the eyes, he’s a charming individual. at least to you—you think the majority of the akademiya would have to disagree.

but al-haitham is kind, he greets you properly, holds doors open for you, and he often notices when you’re tired just by looking at you before giving you extensions on reports. he’s caring, you can tell because he’s helped people more than once, and while he claims it’s for the sake of his own convenience so he can avoid extra trouble, you know that he doesn’t have the heart to turn away from those that need him. more importantly, al-haitham is disciplined—it’s something all matra such as yourself can appreciate.

he seeks out knowledge in the most moral of methods, he never crosses limits or abuses power even when he holds the ability to, and he never takes advantage of the authority he may hold over others.

he’s wonderful, you can’t help but think—and admittedly, his hands also have very attractive veins that make you sweat a little. but that’s not the important part, of course. the important part is how perfect his character is, if you take the moment to understand it. and you like to think you understand it—much more than most at the akademiya.

except romancing the akademiya’s grand sage isn’t the best look for a matra—especially if you want to climb up the ranks soon. you don’t want rumors spread to undermine your hard work…or worse, be accused by the general mahamatra of taking your position as the grand sage’s lover to your advantage for work gains.

cyno is a strict individual—you’d hate to get on his bad side. and just as you think about how awful it would be if he got the wrong impression, he walks right up to you.

with that serious look on his face—why does he always have that serious look on his face?

“grand sage al-haitham requests you in his office,” he says. you don’t detect any suspicion in his voice, and it seems like a perfectly normal statement, but that’s the thing about cyno. he’s too good at not letting his movements be read, too good at cornering caged animals before dragging them by the ankles out in the open, exposed and vulnerable.

you gulp. “did he say why?” you ask, “i’m a bit busy.”

“no,” cyno shakes his head—and then he looks at you oddly, “you don’t seem busy.”

“well….this report won’t write itself,” you chuckle nervously, which only makes his brows furrow in confusion.

“wasn’t that due two days ago?”

fuck.

“yes….but al-haitham gave me an extension.”

“he seems to give you a lot of those,” cyno points out, unimpressed.

well, that’s great, you think. surely, there is no other matra as good at losing composure and making things more obvious for themselves than you.

“i haven’t been feeling well,” you say quickly—which isn’t the worst excuse, seeing as you’ve hardly shown your face at the akademiya for the last few days.

cyno seems to buy it too, because he nods in understanding before giving you a concerned look. “you shouldn’t push yourself, you know,” he lectures, “being sick snot fun.” you blink, and he looks thoroughly amused with himself. “get it? because when you’re sick, you might have a runny nose? snot? and—”

“right,” you nod, “i’ll be seeing the grand sage now. i wouldn’t want to keep him waiting.”

at least you know cyno has not made any….inappropriate assumptions if he’s making jokes, as painful as they might be. you’re not sure if you’d rather face al-haitham or continue to listen to the general mahamatra’s interesting sense of humor, but the closer you get to the grand sage’s office, the more you want to turn back and find cyno again.

but you’re an adult, and adults do adult things sometimes, and sometimes they’re not the most ideal, but the only way to handle such situations is the adult way—to be mature and not let things get in the way of being professional. easy enough.

at least, you hope.

—————

“you called for me, grand sage?”

ouch. al-haitham has now been reduced to grand sage, not just al-haitham. he looks at you for a moment, and he tries—really, he does—to seem unbothered, but his brows crinkle before he can stop them.

“i did, yes,” he says, looking at you.

you look lovely—which, you always do, even when you’re nervous. he can tell you are because you have that habit of chewing on your lip when you’re nervous, and he hates that he makes you anxious enough to do that right now.

al-haitham has always hated the gap between him and everyone else—not because he enjoys being close to others, but because it’s burdensome to always seem like a pretentious asshole. being interpreted as one over the years has left him quite numb to what other people think….but that’s not the case with you, unfortunately. he wonders if you’ve ever thought he was an asshole, or if you’ve ever felt that he acts like he’s better than you are. he hopes you’ve never talked to him and thought he’s condescending like kaveh insists he is—he hopes you find value in his honesty and find him insightful.

he thinks you might have at one point, if the way carrying conversation with you is so easy is of any proof. it feels natural, talking to you. your voice is smooth, especially when it reads over mission reports to him in his office. your laugh is even smoother, though—it’s soft, and honeyed, it sounds like something he’s been missing his whole life.

everything about you feels like something he’s been missing his whole life, like he was born to be with you by his side, and he’s been empty without you all along.

you clear your throat, handing him papers as you pull him from his thoughts and say, “here is the report for that last investigation,” you say quietly, “i apologize for the untimeliness. it won’t happen again—”

“that’s not why i called you,” he cuts you off.

al-haitham is a straightforward man. he’s watched many confessions, and he’s read about many confessions, and he’s even thought about how his own confessions might go should he ever find someone he finds interest in.

but this isn’t interest. al-haitham is not interested in you—he needs you. to call this a confession might be incorrect, he thinks for a moment, because this almost feels like he’s about to plead for you to give him a chance.

“oh,” your voice is small.

you think you have an inkling of an idea of what he’ll bring up, and you contemplate running out of his office and begging cyno to tell you a few more of his jokes….or a few dozen….maybe a few hundred to be safe.

“we should talk about that night—”

“well, there’s not much to talk about,” you say simply, “you and i are consenting adults, and we happened to be heavily under the influence, which caused a lapse in judgement. it’s a bit unprofessional, sure, but as long as neither of us say anything, and as long as we manage to keep a professional atmosphere between the two of us, there shouldn’t be any—”

he cuts off your (rehearsed in the bathroom mirror many times) speech as he clears his throat. “i….” the words are caught in his throat.

for a lifetime of straightforward honesty and blunt words, it seems like now of all times he can’t seem to speak.

“you…?” you motion for him to continue.

“i enjoyed it.”

you sputter. his eyes widen as he stumbles over his words when he realizes what he’s really said.

“grand sage,” you gasp, “i think that’s hardly appropriate for—”

“n-no, i meant i enjoyed you,” he says quickly, making you furrow your brows.

“and what does that mean? because—”

“i enjoyed being with you,” he croaks. it’s a good thing kaveh isn’t here to witness this, because as a self proclaimed expert at love (which al-haitham would have to disagree), kaveh would have an absolute ball watching this. “i don’t….i would prefer if we didn’t pretend nothing happened,” he mumbles, “if you feel the same, that is.”

everything about al-haitham is hopeful. from the way his eyes watch your every movement as they stare at you, to the way he clutches the pen in his hand tightly in anticipation of your response, he’s hopeful. you can tell.

you can tell he’s hopeful you’ll say yes, that he’s hopeful you’ll say you feel the same way as him, that he’s hopeful he’ll see you again in a setting that’s not just for work and mission reports and investigation details.

he’s hopeful you’ll say yes to his pleading eyes and fill that empty spot beside him that’s been empty for far too long.

and it feels like swallowing lead when you sigh heavily and watch the hope crumble.

“al-haitham,” you mumble, “this wouldn’t be very wise, you know?”

“and why’s that?” the hurt in his face is almost tangible.

he’s not foreign to rejections, he’s witnessed them his whole life. he watched that haravatat scholar that declined the amurta one outside of class that one year. he read about that main character that found self respect and declined the toxic love interest in that novel he read last summer. he’s declined his own fair share of confessions by random scholars that stare a bit too long at his chest and arms for his liking.

but for some reason, he never imagined it to feel like this. like being with your for one second longer might just burn his skin, but being away from you might leave him cold and numb. al-haitham thinks that if you walked out that door, you might just take every bit of warmth he’s ever known from him—but sitting in front of you, in front of your sorrowed expression and sympathetic eyes���.it might be too much heat for him to handle.

“well, you’re the grand sage, and i’m a matra—”

“acting grand sage,” he corrects, “it’s temporary. i’ll be back to being the akademiya’s scribe in a short bit.”

“but people talk,” you insist, “and i’ve worked hard to be a respectable matra, and i wouldn’t want anyone to think i’ve slept my way to the top. plus, the general mahamatra is technically my boss, and he’s very strict—”

“the general mahamatra and i drink at taverns together quite often,” he says pointedly, “he’s well aware of how i feel.”

“you told cyno?” you gasp, shooting him a sharp look, “i asked you specifically not to—”

“he’s known of my feelings before that night,” he assures, “evidently i’m not very subtle.”

“well,” you hum, biting back a smile, “no, you aren’t.”

he raises a brow, tilting his head in confusion. “you’ve known?”

“al-haitham,” you chuckle, eyeing him fondly. something about the way your smile is so bright makes him clutch his pen tighter. “you aren’t the most social, you know. but you always have something to say to me.”

“that doesn’t always mean anything,” he mumbles, blush rising to the tips of his ears.

he’s endearing this way, you decide—when he’s flustered and almost pouting and flushed a bright shade of pink. you think for a second that maybe, if you kiss him for a bit in the comforts of his office, no one will ever have to know.

“but it does, doesn’t it?” you tease.

“and if you’ve indulged it all this time, am i safe to assume it means something to you too?” he asks, raising a brow.

you should say no. sleeping with the grand sage and kissing him in his office and maybe even going on dates and possibly holding hands is hardly a good look—but the scribe….well, maybe the scribe is a different story.

“ask me again when you’re the akademiya’s scribe,” you say, biting back a smile, “perhaps my answer will be different then.”

“i see,” he nods, biting back a smile of his own, “i suppose the grand sage isn’t everyone’s type, huh?”

“no,” you chuckle, “i suppose not. but the scribe….well, he’s rather charming.” you walk up to him, lean down and press a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth as you mumble, “i don’t mind waiting for the scribe.”

“well, lucky for you, you won’t have to wait too long,” he hums.

he watches you leave his office—and then he decides that when he clocks out at five pm sharp later, he’ll go straight home, tell kaveh that he is, in fact capable in the field of romance, and demand this month’s rent.

—————

“haitham, we’re out of eggs,” you pout, poking your head out of the fridge, “will you bring some on the way home today?”

“we would have eggs if kaveh didn’t use all of mine,” al-haitham grumbles, glaring at the blonde who gasps in offense. 

“and you help yourself to my beer, don’t you? i deserve a few eggs,” kaveh huffs. 

“well, make sure you pay this month’s rent on time. we’re going to buy some more furniture for our room.”

this time, kaveh turns to you in disbelief—you find it amusing how he seems to still find it improbable that anyone would like to spend longer than five minutes with al-haitham, let alone share a bedroom.

“are you really sure you want to do this? what could you possibly see in him? he’s the most aggravating individual i’ve ever had the pleasure of talking to,” kaveh eyes you in concern as you walk over and press a soft kiss to al-haitham’s forehead, earning himself an unimpressed glare from the scribe and making you giggle. 

“he is a bit aggravating,” you agree with a teasing glint, pinching al-haitham’s cheek as he scoffs, “but i think he’s just nice to me because i sleep with him.”

“that’s gross,” kaveh wrinkles his nose, “you had better not be doing anything i can hear from my room—that would be traumatic. although, it must be more traumatic for you,” he says with sympathy.

“if you don’t like it, you can simply move out,” al-haitham, shrugs, wrapping an arm around your waist. as much as you love your boyfriend—and you love him quite a bit, you can’t help but mourn the fact that constant bickering will now become a staple in your daily routine. 

“are you threatening me?” kaveh gasps before he turns to you with his finger pointing to al-haitham, “do you see? this is your future, i hope you know that. he’s much more unpleasant to live with, i’m warning you in advance—don’t say i didn’t try.”

“well, i’m sure he’ll be on his best behavior for me,” you grin, eyeing al-haitham playfully as your fingers weave into his hair, “otherwise, i’ll have to come sleep in your room when i’m mad at him.”

you think, for the first time ever, kaveh and al-haitham seem to agree on something as they both share a look of dread at your words.

pov: you write 3.8k words of build up for a plot just so you can write the last scene 😭

no bc literally i meant to write this as a drabble just so i could write that last scene bc i thought of it and giggled but then the plot just kept going and now we’re at 4.1k words like w h a t

[puripurin]

[50, 100, 150, 250 and 350 follower special] [Yan! Omega x Male Reader x Yan! Bunny Hybrid]

— You coughed as you suddenly breathed in only to realize two large purple eyes were staring at you. They blinked two times before they were pulled away harshly.

"Move it you whore. Just because we made an agreement to share him doesn't mean I'll just let you infect him with your stripper mindset." The person with bunny ears degraded the man with a harsh tone. However, the crude remarks only made him burst into laughter.

"How about you stop coming at me when you look like some of my coworkers with that skin-tight body suit?" He mocked the bunny hybrid, who put his middle finger in his face.

"At least I don't go around shoving my dick into other people other than (Y/n). Sometimes I can't believe I have to work with a bitch like you!" The bunny hybrid scowled at the other person. You raised your eyebrow at the two's arguments.

"Right... so what the fuck is going on?" You stopped their glaring at one another by making them shift their focus on you. Almost immediately, they came super close to you. The bunny hybrid slapped his hand on the other person's mouth before speaking up.

"The name's Clear Blackwell! I'm non-binary, so use he/ they pronouns." They winked and blew a kiss before swiftly pulling their hand away and glaring at the man who bit his hand.

"I'm Cecil, and the reason you're here is that you need to be taught a lesson on why you shouldn't break the rules." He kissed you on the nose before moving back a bit to cross his arms with a glare on his face.

"What were the rules?" You questioned, not recalling being given any rules. "No talking to anyone outside of work colleagues for work-related things, friends, family or people in the service industry. No watching porn. No seeking dates with anyone and so on and so forth. We tried our best to make it lenient, but you broke Every. Single. Rule." Cecil shook his head in disappointment. Oh, they were probably the ones you kept receiving in the mailbox of your apartment complex that they wrote with blood. Obviously, you didn't follow it and threw it away. You were going to say something but Clear started to speak.

"Sigh, this is one of the few times I have to agree with this whore. You have been out and about prancing around, flaunting yourself to anyone who wants to see it. Ugh... do you know how many times I had to call up my bodyguards to kill all of those cunts who dared to indulge themselves in your desires?" Clear's eyes twitched as they seethed in anger and frustration. You looked at them with a blank stare before realizing what they meant.

"YOU KILLED MY DATES!?!?" You shrieked in horror. It was no wonder why not a single one of your dates messaged you back for a second date. You tried moving away from them, but Clear slammed his hands on the chair handles to stop you from moving.

"And don't play as if you're scared. I don't like it when someone that belongs to me pretends to be all innocent whilst whoring themselves out." Clear inhaled and exhaled to calm themself down and moved away from you. Cecil patted Clear on the back in comfort before moving towards you.

"Your punishment is going to be rough. Although we wanted our first time having sex with you to be gentle, unfortunately, you couldn't keep yourself in check, so it has come down to this." Cecil sighs and takes off his collar before putting it on you. He stops at a point before pulling it so tight you start to choke.

"Now let's see if you're going to disobey the rules after this." He relaxed the tightness of the collar before pulling you into a rough kiss.

"I- I'm sho sorry f- for breaking the rulesss!" You sobbed from the pain. Almost everywhere on your body was hot with pain. Your mouth and throat were in pain even though Cecil and Clear had innocent-looking faces, their sizes were no joke. Clear kissed your swollen and bleeding lips in contentment.

"F-fuck... Clear, do you think he's learnt his lesson?" Cecil moaned as he slammed back into you, making you shudder and moan from the roughness. His face was flushed as he watched both of you make out.

"A-ah haa... Yeah... He looks so docile now, with his lips all messed up and his body covered in lovebites. Shit, this makes me want to mess him up even more... but I think he's starting to reach his limits." Clear rubs his thumb on your cheek, which nearly makes you close your eyes if you weren't getting fucked by Cecil. Cecil nods before thrusting back into you a few more times before he came inside.

"Damn... You're better than any of my clients." He kissed your cheek before rolling his eyes and kissing Clear on their lips after they motioned for a kiss. "Right, time to clean up. I'll get the towels and water." Cecil got up and brought back some towels and a few bottles of water.

Cecil cleaned up both you and Clear so fast but was pretty gentle about it before cleaning himself up. You fell asleep from exhaustion and snuggled up into a pillow at first, but Clear switched out the pillow for you to hug them instead. Clear watched as Cecil wiped off his body before speaking up.

"You're so much nicer when you aren't spouting a bunch of bullshit, you know?"

"How about you shut the fuck up before I fuck that brattiness out of you."

Yall thought you were gonna get a full-length smut? Guess what, you got bamboozled. Sorry if their personalities switch up like crazy, yall have no ideas how hard it is to write this shit down before valentine's day so you have time to write a val. special.

Anyways, for those of you who don't know, Cecil and Clear are the very first ocs I wrote about to publish on here and I appreciate all of the people who scrolled through my blog to read everything like thirsty dogs. Thank you.

Also i squizshed every follower milestone to one poast is because realistically, i aint gon an write all of that but I might reblog later to write out the full smut. Ah, almost forgot, if Clear's intro is bad here IM SORRY CUS LIKE IDK HOW YOU DO THIS WITH CONFISENCE OMG IF YALL ASK ME TO CHANGE IT ILL CHANGE IT CUS ITS BADDD 😭😭😭😭 Also Cecil not saying his last name intentional.

Once again, without the jokes or spelling errors, I'm actually grateful that yall actually comment, like and follow my writing. So I might go back on my old quotev ACC to rewrite and finish the story that I posted before. Any questions that you all might have, I'll answer in the comments. Also yes, I will write pt2 for cute! Monster's father.

(noto prooftred)

[skyloftian-nutcase]

Outbreak Pt 1 (LU in Healthcare)

(Content warning: This is likely to hit close to home for everyone as it's essentially a pandemic fic told from healthcare workers' POV. It's as mild as I can make it, with the boys dealing with their usually lives and stuff, since I don't want this to be a drawn out fic, but still. FYI.)

It started like a whisper.

One case. A new illness, a variant of a disease that had torn through Hyrule's military during the war, had popped up in the outskirts of the Gerudo Desert. Someone who had traveled there recently brought it to Castle Town. But it was just one case.

Everyone had been put on alert with emails from the health department, but no one had really thought much of it. Legend had seen plenty of scares in the past - just as recently as two years ago, there had been another stir like this over a far deadlier disease, and nothing had come of it.

But this new disease--officially named Respiratory Failure Influenza, colloquially called Arfy by healthcare workers, and unofficially called Yiga's Revenge by the public given its point of origin and how it was tearing cities in the desert apart--was starting to make an impact.

To the world at large, the media would not stop talking about Arfy and stirring up the public. Inside Hyrule General, though, the staff was pretty calm about it.

"Who names a disease Arfy, anyway?" one of Legend's coworkers chuckled.

Legend shrugged and stretched. "I've heard worse. At least it's not based after somebody's name - I hated memorizing all those names for diseases. Nowadays the naming scheme's much better - respiratory failure influenza makes it pretty straightforward to figure out what happens."

"Preach," a tech who was in nursing school grumbled.

Time walked by as they chatted, and Legend nodded in greeting, throwing out, "Whatever reason you're here for, it wasn't me, my patients are fine."

The trauma surgeon smirked. "I'm not here for your patients, no."

Legend bristled. "Look, this is my first night shift, I haven't been working insane hours."

Time outright cackled now. "I was consulted for someone else. Relax."

"Good," Legend huffed. "Anyway, did you hear there's a case of Arfy in town? I haven't seen them pop through here, though, think they got diagnosed at an urgent care clinic."

Time hummed thoughtfully, growing serious. "Hopefully it just stays one case."

"Eh," Legend shrugged again with a noncommittal sound. "The media stirs everyone up. This happened last time, and it was contained and never came here."

"Arfy's cousin nearly killed me during the war," Time noted gravely. "Don't underestimate it too much. The fact that it's a brand new strain, and the typical medications for its cousin don't work on it, isn't promising."

"Look, I'm not saying it isn't something to take seriously," Legend argued mildly. "But it's isolated to three cities in Gerudo Desert, and then the one guy who came here. The media makes it sound like the world's ending."

"They tend to do that," Time agreed, looking down the hallway. "But in either case... let's just hope it stays as one case."

Wild wandered over at that point with an empty stretcher, having just transported someone to the floor, and both men honed in on him. He looked pale and distracted, but he somehow still managed to notice their scrutiny.

Wild watched them silently, not seeming eager to speak. So Legend talked first. "You want to explain what happened earlier?"

Time glanced between the two, brow furrowing in confusion, and he silently observed the exchange. Wild seemed to grow colder, crossing his arms, but Legend wasn't going to back down.

When his friend remained silent, Wild pressed, "Rulie said it looked like you had another absence seizure when we were dealing with that heart attack patient. Tell me what's wrong. Now."

"I didn't have a seizure," Wild assured them as Time took a protective step towards him. "Look, I just..."

The young man sighed, shriveling into himself further.

"Link," Time said sternly. "I understand you have a lot of things in your past that you're trying to reconcile. But not telling us led to you going undiagnosed and getting into a wreck that almost killed you. What's wrong?"

"When I have absence seizures, sometimes I just zone out. But other times, I get hit with... I don't know, I feel like seizures don't give you memories, okay? I don't think it was a seizure. It was a trigger."

"Trigger?" Legend repeated. "You got PTSD?"

Wild blinked, thought about it, and shrugged while shaking his head. "Probably not. Sorry. Bad phrasing."

"You have said before that you don't remember much of the war and your past because you sustained serious injuries," Time supplied. "I know you did. I operated on you. Twice."

"Sorry," Wild mumbled sheepishly.

"Just tell us what's wrong," Legend insisted as gently as he could. "What set you off?"

Wild was silent for a long time, and Legend almost grew impatient. However, eventually, he finally said, "I... I know the guy. The one who you were taking to the cath lab. I knew him be-before. Please, I don't want to talk about it right now."

Time and Legend exchanged a look, and the surgeon shook his head. Legend sighed, backing off. "Okay. But you're okay? Like physically?"

"Yeah," Wild answered, voice growing raw. Legend watched him worriedly.

"You know, you can talk to us," the nurse tried to say, but Wild shook his head.

"I don't want to talk about it," he repeated.

Time nodded, putting a hand on the young man's shoulder. "When you're comfortable, we're all here for you, okay?"

Wild stared at Time for too long, eyes watering, and he cleared his throat, nodding and walking away.

Legend bit his lip, swallowed, and looked back at Time. The surgeon was still watching Wild go down the hall. A call bell light went off, as well as a cautionary alarm on the monitors, and the nurse had to return to work, brain filled with too many thoughts and worries.

Time found himself far more nostalgic than he needed to be. Wild's words about his past, about the war, and this new virus that was kin to the one that had almost killed the surgeon were mixing together. He sighed, shaking his head. This all just needed to resolve.

He would keep an eye on Wild. That was the bigger issue than anything else.

It started like a whisper. But the roar of their pasts was coming for them, haunting and rumbling and demanding everyone’s attention.

[belltrigger]

Submastober Day 14!

Inspiration: There's an older OC-tober prompt-list here that I am using.

Title: What Does That Remind You Of? Prompt: Legend Word count: 1170 Synopsis: There's a rumor that Ingo and Emmet are legendary dragons in human form.

~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~

Every once in a while, an odd idea floated through the air of Gear Station. Ingo and Emmet, the twin Subway Masters of Nimbasa City, were the legendary dragon pokemon Zekrom and Reshiram. The reasoning was fairly simple: Zekrom and Reshiram were black and white respectively, and Ingo and Emmet wore those same colors all the time.

“That's not just all,” Jackie said, waggling his finger to Cameron. “They're both so tall - obviously legendary dragons would need to be tall humans if they were trying to blend in. Where else would they fit all their power?”

“Lots of people are tall, Jackie.” Cameron elbowed his coworker playfully with a grin. “In fact, Ramses isn't that much shorter than the bosses. Are you saying he's some kind of pokemon too?”

“Well, we can't rule it out." That earned Jackie another elbow into the side, eliciting an ow! from him. Holding his side in mock betrayal, Cameron rolled his eyes at Jackie's dramatics. “Well, still, it would also explain their cool glowing eyes.”

Cameron sighed, tipping his cap towards White as she stood with him and Jackie. “Surely you don't agree with this silly rumor.” He'd thought this a standard visit from the teenager until this line of discussion had started. Jackie always had fanciful thoughts, and White was just encouraging it now.

White shifted, resting her weight on the other foot and jutting her hip. Crossing her arms, she shut her eyes in thought. “When Drayden told me the story about twin heroes wielding a dragon that split into a black one and a white one, they were the first thing that popped into my head.”

“There! See! It's not just me.” Jackie exclaimed. “I'm not saying this as a bad thing. Just think about how cool that would be. We could be working for legendary dragon pokemon, Cameron!”

Sighing again, Cameron's shoulders dropped. “I just think it's all so very mundane! The dragons were heroes who created an entire region. Sure our bosses are strong battlers and have their quirks, but they're just people like us.”

“A region might be a bit much, with our busy schedule. Perhaps you would be content with merely a small island?”

Both agents stiffened, shoulders hiking up to their ears as a very familiar voice piped up behind them.

“Hi Ingo! Hi Emmet!” White chirped, putting her hands behind her back and lacing her fingers together. She'd seen the Subway bosses coming up behind the agents -they were so tall, after all- but thought it might be funny to let them overhear. It was hard to tell what they thought as they approached, wearing their normal expressions.

Both of the Subway Masters tilted their caps in greeting, each giving their own version of a verbal greeting at the same time. Interestingly, although Ingo's was much longer, her name synced up in both of their greetings. Their attentions then turned to their gossiping agents.

“I am Emmet. I have human arms and hands. Reshiram does not.” Emmet stated matter-of-factly, hands down at his sides. As if to prove his point, lifted one hand and held it out palm up to the three that had been talking.

“That is quite true. There are may physical differences between us and the legendary dragons.” Ingo agreed, cupping his elbow as he held a finger to his chin. “Though, I imagine even legendary dragons would find trains and battling a most interesting combo.”

“You don't even focus on the same elements as the legendary dragons!” White said, pointing a finger up. “I feel like it would be so much easier to beat you if you couldn't switch up your types.” Thoughts of all the times she'd lost to them resurfacing, she looked momentarily put out.

“You will beat Emmet someday. But probably not today.” Emmet kept his normal expression as he said this, and White hung her head in fake defeat before popping it back up to express her disagreement! Surely today she was going to win! She'd practiced hard for this visit!

Cameron and Jackie exchanged looks while their bosses were distracted. Glancing to the side, they happened to see Cloud, who luckily was walking their way. “UH!” Jackie said, as he and Cameron straightened their backs, arms tightly against their sides in a mock-attention stance. When Ingo and Emmet turned their attentions to them, Jackie continued. “It seems that Cloud is looking for us!”

Cameron, just as eager to escape his bosses likely teasing about the dragon theory, continued. “It's about time for us to file some of our reports, so we better be going!” Without waiting for an answer, they both made a hasty retreat towards the safer option of Cloud possibly chastising them for slacking off.

After the agents all but scrambled off, the twins turned their attention back to White. Giving them a cheerful grin, she put her hands behind her head casually. “I really am serious about beating you guys today! You better watch out, Emmet!” she said, confidently. “I'm gonna go get Black, and we're gonna get prepared for the battle later!”

“I trust that you will, Ms. White!” Ingo said, clapping his hands in approval.

“I don't. I am Emmet.” Emmet said, hands on his hips.

White stuck her tongue out at Emmet, making a “blehhh!” sound. Emmet always teased her like this, his comments ranging from confident of her future success to insisting she wouldn't win in the now. Ingo had always considered positive encouragement to be the best method, but somehow Emmet's method kept White going. Then she nodded to Ingo before turning on her heel and jogging off to find her own twin.

“That rumor pops up rather often, don't you think, Emmet?” Ingo glanced at his brother. “It could prove troublesome down the line. Perhaps we should set people on the correct tracks again.”

Emmet nodded. “It is too much fun using electric attacks.”

“I quite agree. However, I am having very much fun using other moves, like Earthquake.” Ingo laughed into his fist, eyes shut.

A blue glint flashed over Emmet's silver eyes as he turned his frown on his older brother. “I do not like when you use Earthquake. I am Emmet.”

“No, I suspect you don't,” Ingo agreed, playfully, his partially open eyes showing red sclera. Emmet looked as though he wished to stomp a foot, though he never would do such a thing when they were in the subway. The important part, however, was that Ingo *knew* he wanted to.

Emmet did, however, puff his cheeks in disapproval. "I am Emmet. I will explain to you why it's mean to pick on your brother." Since their secret was still kept, Ingo didn't see any reason why he couldn't listen to Emmet's lecture until White and her brother showed up.

[snippy-tano]

Since I don't know where you stand, I'd like to introduce myself as a Fives simp. That being said, my request is for a Fox slash!! Some people have hard feelings but nOT ME. THE POOR MAN DESERVES SOME LOVE. He works so hard and gets abused so much (*cough cough* looking at you Palpacreep 👀) and I would just like some appreciation for the guy. We all know he hasn't slept since last Tuesday and his blood is more caf than it is human cells.

Thanks vod, you're the best! Happy writing :)

thank you for this request vod! I absolutely agree! Fox deserves so much better!! which I hope I delivered in this request! I decided to mix it up and have a super confident reader, so I hope I did that justice! please let me know what you think!

like I said last time, I have a few requests in the pipeline, so keep an eye out for them!

masterlist is here!

taglist is here!

tagging: @pro-fangirls-unsocial-life; @marvel-starwars-nerd; @mackstrut; @dissapointingpancake; @ahsokatano-thetogruta; @welcometothepedroverse; @lightning-wolffe; @fractiouskat; @mandaloriandin; @lussyyung; @lowkeyodinsong; @str-wrs-fics; @bantha-shit; @badbatch-simp24; @katelynnwrites; @s1st3r; @leotatombs; @torchbearerkyle; @rain-on-kamino; @the-navistar-carol; @bombshe77; @arctrooper69; @social-mockingbird; @isabelle-99

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

Late Night Caf

You gathered up your things and waved goodbye to a few coworkers before stepping into the lift and hitting the ground floor button.

It was late on Coruscant, but as a reporter, you were used to late nights. Late nights were when you finished some of your best works. You had started out as a beat reporter, covering local stories on Coruscant. Your articles were far from front page stories, but you worked hard and it showed. 

You got your big break completely by accident. 

There had been an incident on the lower levels and you happened to be nearby and one of the first reporters on the scene. Normally, it would have been an incident that would garner little attention, but it quickly grew into a much larger story and you were just lucky. Lucky to be there from the beginning and get a scoop many others weren’t able to get. 

It catapulted you into being one of the top reporters at your news agency. 

It also happened to be the case where you first met Commander Fox. 

He was quick and to the point, which was something you could appreciate as a reporter. He was gruff at first but then the thief’s showed up again, this time with blasters. Commander Fox and pushed you behind some cover and started firing, shouting commands immediately. 

You had to admit, it was pretty hot.

Your relationship started pretty professional and you think he only tolerated you because your article was incredibly kind and open about the clones. But gradually, he started to warm up to you. On the outside it would look pretty harsh, but to anyone who knew Fox, he was a total softie when it came to you. 

You visited him frequently and were consistently the only one who could get him out from behind his desk. His men had come to look forward to your arrival because they knew someone was looking after their commander who had more caf in his bloodstream than actual blood at this point. 

You checked your comm and didn’t see a message like you had expected. You were set to meet up with Fox for a very late dinner, but it was likely he got so wrapped up in work that he completely lost track of time, again.

You didn’t hold it against him, he didn’t mean to do it. But it did happen with an alarming frequency. You didn’t really feel like you could complain however because it wasn’t like you were seeing him. Despite your best efforts that is.

That was one thing that surprised people. You made it very clear to Fox that you liked him and would pursue a relationship if he wanted to, it was him that held back. You didn’t mind though, you were content with spending time with him, even if it never progressed beyond that. You’d be here as long as he wanted you in whatever capacity that was. 

There was a beep and the doors to the lift opened. You exited the lift and headed down and out through the lobby until you were standing on a busy Coruscanti street. You glanced at the time. 

Well, if he wasn’t going to meet you, you’d have to go to him. 

You began your walk towards the Corrie guard headquarters, stopping on the way to get two frozen fruit mixtures that you enjoyed and had been trying to get Fox to drink instead of just caf. You had yet to be successful, but you were nothing if not persistent.

You arrived at the guard headquarters in no time, tossing your own beverage in the garbage before striding inside the nondescript building. The two troopers at the entrance looked up when they saw you.

“Evening boys!” You called with a wave.

“Thank the Maker you’re here.” Radar said, looking exhausted.

You sighed. “How long has it been this time?”

“At least twelve hours. We know he’s still alive because we could hear him pacing, but he hasn’t left that room in at least that long.” He confirmed and you deflated a bit. 

This man was going to be the end of you.

“I got it boys, don’t you worry.” 

“We trust you!”

“Thank you!”

They both called as you walked by and they waved. You followed the winding halls, wincing at the one overhead light that was flashing. You finally reached Fox’s door, glancing down the hall to see another door cracked and light pouring out. 

Good. Thorne is still here. He can be back-up if you need it. 

You knocked quietly on Fox’s door and slowly opened it, peering inside. The Commander was sitting hunched over at his desk and didn’t react to you poking your head in. You quietly stepped inside the small office and closed the door behind you, continuing to move deeper into the office. 

Fox still hadn’t noticed you, despite reaching his side. He just continued tapping on his data pad and making notes on some flimsy. You peered into his almost empty cup of caf before picking it up and replacing it with the frozen fruit mix. 

And then you waited.

Thankfully it didn’t take long for Fox to blindly reach for his drink and take a sip. It was almost funny how quickly his face contorted as he drank what he expected to be caf and turned out to be not caf. He looked over and saw you, jumping slightly.

“When did you get here? Aren’t you supposed to be working?”

“Good evening to you too Fox. I’m great thanks for asking. I got here a few minutes ago, since we were supposed to meet up about an hour ago.” You replied and he narrowed his eyes, looking at the time before huffing.

“I lost track of time, now give me my caf back.” He reached out and you pulled the cup away.

“Ah ah ah. Not so fast big guy. I’m cutting you off for now. It’s late and you need to get some sleep since I know it’s been far too long since you slept. Drink that instead, it’s much healthier.” You said and he rolled his eyes.

“No, I want my caf.” He made a grab for the caf and you jumped backwards. Normally he would be much faster than you, but because it had been days since he probably slept, you were at an advantage. You darted out of his reach and upon seeing him still intending to take the caf, you raised the cup to your lips and chugged the rest of it in one go.

You coughed. “Kriff Fox. Could this be any more bitter?”

“It’s bitter?” 

“Yes.” You gasped. “I’ll buy you some more sweetener because kriff Fox this is awful.”

“It tasted fine to me.” He said, slumping back into his chair and picking up his data pad again. 

“That’s because you haven’t slept, so you didn’t even notice it was wrong.” You tossed the empty cup in the small garbage can near his desk before striding closer to him. You watched him tap away at his datapad before snatching it out of his hands. 

“Hey!”

“Don’t ‘hey’ me mister. When was the last time you slept?” You asked and he blinked.

“Uh. After the last time I saw you.” Fox said, sounding a bit more confident as you nodded.

“Hmm. That was five days ago.”

He blinked again. “Oh.”

“Yeah oh. Come on, it’s time to go.”

“What? No, I have too much left to do.” He said, reaching for his datapad which you held up out of reach. 

“It can wait. It’s been five days since you slept. Don’t make me get Thorne.” You threatened and he hesitated. 

“You wouldn’t.”

“Try me.”

“Alright fine, I’ll go to the barracks after I finish this report.” He said and you shook your head.

“I’m not falling for that Fox. You’re coming with me now and you’re staying at my place where I can make sure you sleep.” You insisted and he again glared at you. 

“What if I refuse?”

You chuckled. “Normally my philosophy is not to argue with men with brown eyes, because whatever you say gorgeous, but this time I will have to resist and insist.” You replied and he took a deep breath. “Come on, you’ll get a good night's sleep, I’ll make you breakfast, and have you back here by 0700 hours. Promise.”

Fox stared at you and you raised an eyebrow. 

“You can’t keep doing this Fox. Let me help.” Your voice lowered and you could see him struggling. You placed your hand on his armored shoulder. “Come on. I’ll make sure you’re back first thing in the morning, but you need to sleep.”

“Okay.”

You gave him a soft smile before locking his datapad and setting it down on his desk. You went to turn when he spoke again.

“But first-“

You turned so abruptly that your shoes squeaked against the floor. “For kriff’s sake Fox-“

A hand grabbed yours and yanked. Not expecting it, you lurched forward colliding with Fox who was still sitting in his old rickety chair. You would have thought it was an accident that you ended up in his lap, but his arms wrapped around your waist and suddenly you forgot what you were here for in the first place. 

His eyes scanned your face before he leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to your lips. It caught you off guard, that’s for sure. But despite its short duration, it was probably the best kiss you’d ever been given. 

You opened your eyes to see Fox’s still closed. You smiled gently before leaning back forward for more. Your hands tangled in his hair and he let out a soft groan at the contact, just as eager as you were. His arms tightened around you, tugging you impossibly closer. You brushed a hand against his cheek and he sighed. 

Fighting against the urge to continue, you forced yourself to pull away. You let your forehead thump lightly against his, feeling his breath puffing against your lips. 

“Not that I didn’t enjoy that, but can I ask why?” You whispered and Fox let out a hoarse chuckle. 

“I wanted to. Decided it was time to stop holding back with you.” He said and you smiled.

“Good. Please feel free to do that as often as you want.” 

Fox gave you one of his rare smiles before leaning in again, but was stopped by your finger. His eyes narrowed as he looked at you. 

“Nice try Fox. But we’re still leaving. Once we get back to my place however, feel free to not hold back.” You said and he sighed but relented, giving your waist a squeeze before you stood up. You brushed imaginary dust off your clothes and smoothed your hair as he straightened up a few things on his desk. When he finished, you held out your hand. 

Fox stared at it for a moment and for a second you thought he might refuse, but he intertwined his fingers with yours and you grinned broadly. Together, you walked out of his office. You waved brightly at the two troopers at the front who looked terribly confused, but were clearly going to report what they saw right to Thorne as soon as you left. 

And after that you kept your word. Fox got a good night's sleep and breakfast before he returned to his post. 

Fox was admittedly a little late the following morning due to your staying up a little later than you had originally anticipated, but you’re not sure he really minded. Not one bit. 

And frankly, neither did you. 

[luckyshotwrites]

Ch. 102 // How Do You Feel? // Day 78

Contents (Warnings): Sum up what's left (Angst, character and monster info as always). Read full chapter on A03

Wordcount: 2,000+

Song I correlate to this Chapter: definitely not Mariah Carey's all I want for Christmas is you.

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

(Dec. 20th, Tuesday)

Lynette

It had been nearly two weeks since the incident.

After we were collected, given immediate care, exchanged our testimonies, and debriefed, we were allowed to go home. 

Most of it was mashed together in my mind. I figured it was due to how fast everything happened. Working at the pizzeria is a testimony to that statement. 

I knew there were mass casualties—most of the people in the basement were recovered, and Andras, along with Victoria, were in custody, most likely going to be put to death.

I didn't know the extent of the C.P.P.A.'s legal system and wanted to avoid asking Wicks. Despite claiming he was okay, I knew he wasn't. 

Lately, he was antsy. He'd check on me every hour, and each time he did, he'd offer me sweets—far more than usual. His excuse was that he had to dispose of the ever-increasing keep-away-from-Lentils stash.

And before I left today, he made me promise three things. 

"One, you won't go out with anyone, monster or not, unless Charletta, Mom, Dad, or I go with you."

It felt fair for now. I hadn't made any human friends. 

"Two, IF anyone bothers you after you tell them to leave or you feel uneasy about them in any way. Use your knife."

I received it after finishing my training last week. I currently had it strapped to my belt, concealed behind my jacket at my back. 

I was afraid to admit that even thinking about seriously stabbing someone scared me. 

It'll get more manageable if I keep training with Garter. I assured myself.

"Three, if you get in a coworker-related trouble again at any point, you're quitting."

It was the only compromise I'd give him. It wasn't their fault. Neither Claudia nor Drake expected that to happen. I convinced him to agree, but I wasn't sure if I'd go back or not.

"Here's your pretzel," my sister said. She unconsciously hummed the current Christmas song on the speakers: ' All I want for Christmas is no copyright infringements.' 

We were at the mall together, getting last-minute Christmas gifts for the family. All we had to do was wait for Wenna to arrive. 

I still think dragging me along with them is a bad idea. I thought.

After what happened, Drake wasn't permitted to be around me for the next month. Because of the extreme stress of being constantly deprived of energy and drinking my blood back to back to back, he got addicted. 

From what I understood, if a vampire was under pressure and continued to drink from the same person, their body deemed no other "resources" available, so it'd become possessive and protective over that "resource." That'd also mean they'd exclusively crave that being's blood. 

So, Drake would be drinking animal blood for the next month to 'reset his palette.' This apparently happened to him with Elise, Viola's partner as well.  

Wenna assured me she'd stay at Viola's house after she left the mall, so Drake wouldn't have exposure to my scent either. 

It made giving him a birthday gift a little more complicated. I said in my head as I took a bite of the pretzel while we walked. Charletta happily tore into hers beside me.

We had yet to walk into any festively decorated storefronts, but seeing them made my smile come alive. Not that I hadn't been to the mall in a while—Wicks and I'd come here at least once a month since the rock climbing place we visited every week was next door.

The adorning wreaths and garlands in cahoots with the cinnamon and pine scents delighted me. I loved buying gifts for people, and this was the holiday with the biggest and best excuse to spend my money on it. I hadn't had a reason to use much of the money I'd made at the pizzeria. 

This realization brought me back to what I should do. If I stayed, I planned on going back after Christmas. 

After I finished my pretzel, I threw away the napkin, and Charletta tugged my arm. 

"Hey, we should sit at those chairs you like." She slipped her phone back into her pocket. 

Before she continued to drag me, we waited for the excited kids to run by to see Santa at the huge, well decorated, Christmas tree.

"I remember when you and Madre had to put up with me pulling Wicks to Santa." I chuckled as I plopped onto the chair, feeling the motionless massagers underneath me awaiting my money. I also noted the other person using one behind mine. 

Charletta fell back on the one next to me and laughed, too: "That first time he was put on his lap. He was bawling and begging for Mom to get him." 

I whimpered, "I still feel so bad. I thought you guys knew who Santa was!" I put a dollar into her chair and mine. 

"We had a monster similar to Krampus back on Yexodele, but no Santa." She said with a shake of her head. 

A monster similar to KRAMPUS? I would have asked further, if the other part of what she said didn't get my attention too. "On Yexodele?"

"We lived there before we came here." Charletta closed her eyes and relaxed back. "We should get a massage at one of the shops with Wenna." 

"Then why did you..." It had been so long since it was mentioned to me, but I remembered what Drake said. 

"I never saw it, though, Yexodele. I was born on Earth." [...] "There was a big war that broke out between the strongest nations, and now nearly all of it is uninhabitable."

"Oh, right." I sheepishly replied.

Despite Charletta's smile, her face contained freckles of concern. She asked, "have you been told about it?"

"Yeah, Drake told me some things about the war."

"It was crazy. I was thirteen when we came here." She bustled with laughter and waved her hand around, seemingly to avoid the topic. "You know how hard it was not to use any of my tricks in front of people and to be around people that looked like me."  

I didn't press her. "I think it's similar to how I feel knowing about everything now." It was disorienting to see some people at the mall, knowing one could be a giant monster living here peacefully or, like Andras, not so much.

I followed her lead and shut my eyes, too. Beneath my eyelids, the images of what has happened so far, the good and the bad, fluttered about. It's been, what, a little over four months? 

"Speaking of things you can't always see," Charletta nudged my arm with her elbow. "What's on your mind?" 

I flinched as the massage chair got to my neck. I pulled away from it for a moment and sighed.

"What should I do?"

"About?"

"You know…" How could I explain it?

Charletta turned her attention to mean, leaning up in her chair. "What do you feel you should do?"

I shrugged and played with one of my curls. "I don't know. Claudia's nice, and Zilla's not bad. As long as she's not using me in some hair-brain scheme, she's fine. Lev is Lev, Drake... I don't blame him for what happened." It was all Andras. He abused us both and manipulated Drake. I'd attempt to treat him the same; even with the incident at the festival, he was the only one who acted friendly and genuine to me. 

"And Alexander," my thoughts sank. There had been so many things dwelling under the surface of my mind. Yet Alexander's face stuck out the most. I had never seen him like that. He was always annoyed, unbothered, or hungry, never terrified. 

"I-I never had someone look at me like that before." I kept vividly hearing his raspy, hard breathing and seeing his body shake and stammer in retreat. "He looked afraid of me when he's the scary opposing one-" I don't understand how Andras could derive satisfaction from it. It made me feel sick and overwhelmed with the need to chase him. I wanted to know why he ran away from me and refused to accept what I said.

"From what Wicks told me, things went down, and Alexander had other complicated feelings at the time," Charletta said calmly.

I didn't know Wicks talked to you about it. "That's why I was trying to get it through to him. He went back to help Wicks!"

"Knowing you, of course, you did," Charletta said as she paid the chairs for us this time when they ran out. "You shouldn't fret too much about that big softie. He'll be fine."

I did a double take and choked on my spit. I coughed, "wha-" I continued the fit for a little longer. "He's not a softie!"

Charletta pursed her lips together to hold back her giggles, then popped them when she got a handle over herself, "I did my own investigation during Thanksgiving because Wicks wouldn't stop complaining about him."

"Huh?" That's right. She sparred with Alexander during the party. "that's why you fought him?""

She tilted her head, "duh." She rested her hands behind her head momentarily before she realized the robotic massage went up to it. "I wanted to know if he was as stupid and rude as Wicks described. " 

He's blunt and abrasive. I didn't know whether I'd call him dumb or not. Just not as receptive?

"I think he's pretty simple," she scoffed. "He's definitely quick with magic and a lot more trusting than I imagined." Charletta rested her head back, "even after I threatened him." 

"Threatened?"

She brushed her wavy brown locks from her face. "What? You think I'm not a little peeved that he might not treat my little sister respectfully?" She grabbed my hand and squeezed it. "It worked out well."

"I guess." 

"Do you think otherwise"

"I wouldn't fight someone for that reason," I muttered quietly. 

Charletta flicked her hand from mine and pushed my chin up, "And there's your answer."

I didn't move from the position she put me in, "not to fight people?" I could have told you that.

Charletta tipped her finger off my chin. "You decide what you do." She put her hands flat over her chest. "I can say what I think is best, same as I'm sure everyone else has or can for you, but we aren't you."

She pointed at me. "You're going through everything, Lyn. You know what you can handle and what you can take. And if you don't know yet, you'll learn." 

She's right. I was afraid to make this decision alone—why did I keep fighting with Wicks then? I don't want to give up, do I? 

"It's your decision, not theirs," she said, teasingly poking me. "I know it can be tough, especially with Mom and Wicks always coddling you."

My smile wavered. I let my head fall, staring at my knees, going over the side grooves in my jeans with my fingers, "What if I fail again?"

"You don't fail if you try. You fail when you give up and stop trying entirely. If you leave or stay now and leave later, that doesn't mean utter defeat. You tried, and you can work elsewhere if it doesn't work out there." She leaned closer; our chair timers were up. "Like, does it make you a failure at rock climbing if you can't do a wall?"

I shook my head. "No. I'd do a different one until I get good enough to do the one I couldn't." 

"Exactly, or you might never go back to that wall again. It might not be your style, fit your groove, or it'll change. So, you aren't a failure unless you stop entirely and deem yourself one."

I puckered and relaxed my lips, still brushing the seams of my pants, while in thought. I do plan on working more after the year. I want to get better at art so I can make silly animations. 

My hands rested on my thighs. And if I do quit, I will still do what I can to make that dream a reality. I'll work anywhere else and keep saving.

I looked up at her. "Thank you."

"We're always here for you, Lyn. We'll support you no matter what," she popped up from her chair and offered me an arm up, too. "just don't drive us too crazy, okay? Unless you want Madre and Wicks to seal you away like a Rapunzel forever."

Wicks is already doing that, I thought as I took her offer. "I'd also like to make another thing clear." She brought me close and sharpened her gaze. "When you ask yourself what you want, don't think of the money as a way to pay us back."

"But,"

"We're here for each other. If things didn't work out between Ulysses and me, you all would be there, showering me with everything under the sun. It's no different from us to you, no matter what your brain tells you. Got it?"

"O-okay"

"Good." Charletta glanced at the chairs back to back with ours. "Are you going to hide there all day or give us hugs?"

"Sorry!" Wenna popped up from the chair. 

My cheeks were red with embarrassment. People passed us during this conversation, sure, though none were listening. Knowing Wenna was there the whole time, my cheeks were hot. 

"I didn't want to ruin your sisterly moment." Wenna came around the chairs to us. 

"You're allowed to join them being our sister and all too."

Wenna squealed and grabbed me first in the hug, then Charletta. "Yeah, I am!" Because of Wenna's height to me, we were nearly cheek-to-cheek.

I glanced up at Charletta as she squeezed us back. 

My mind was still wrecked, trembling when I thought of what had happened so far, but for some reason, whether it be my stupid determination or the feeling of wanting to prove myself, I wasn't keen on making a decision until after the holidays.

…

Hey, you, thank you so much for reading. I'm glad I put out a story that people can enjoy! I hope you continue to enjoy it as WE have a LOT more to go! YOU BETTER KEEP PROSPERING! (Nonnegotiable, as always~).

First Chapter Previous Chapter Next Chapter

Catch up, see some maps/art, or check the latest release dates down below  ↓ ↓ ↓ 

What I’d do for a Livable Income Part 2 (Synopsis/Chapter - List)

[iaus]

5, 6, 8, and 18 for the asks 👀

5: first sentence of the fifth paragraph of an unpublished WIP

cheating because these lines go together so well. but from hunger pains:

And Jace burns. He wants to shut Porter up, to claw at his revealed skin and tell Porter if he’s not going to feed him the least he could do is fuck him.

6: the word that appears the most in your current draft (wordcounter.net can tell you)

i'm gonna scream. porter is the word that appears most in darling with a whopping 115 uses. which I MEAN YEA. if we ignore the names... back is the most used word with 36 uses. huh.

crying i ran part of the epilogue draft through here and porter is still the most used word. i'm sick.

8: if you had to write a sequel to a fic, you’d write one for…

hmmm at the moment i'm pretty content with the endings (and future endings) of my sb stuff.

one day getting motivation/energy to go back to my darkest dungeon fic i'll crawl home (to you) would be so cool. mostly because it would require a lot of world-building and require a re-exploration of damian and tardif (who are leagues healthier than sb when one of them is a mass murderer and the other a literal walking corpse) and how dd2 changes them...

or?? finishing?? the arc i started with my bg3 fic? cute little thing where gale takes care of my oathbreaker paladin after he takes a consensual walloping from that loviatar worshiper in act 1. i actually have two follow up fics for this but. lost interest in writing for bg3 very quickly.

18: if you keep them, share a deleted sentence or paragraph from a published fic

so.... i mentioned in the most recent chapter of epilogue that i had to delete/rewrite a scene like 3 times? i'm gonna pull from there. i had to make a separate document for this scene and i just called it INTERLUDES. because i'm as we all know. long-winded i'm gonna share more than a paragraph (teehee) of this big ass cut scene. because i spent SO long on it.

Porter rubbed the curve of his ankle and smiled indulgently. “C’mon, Jace. I’m being a considerate coworker.”

That had made it worse, somehow. “Sober me up. You do it all the time.”

“Tapped out—some of the seniors got rowdy last period.”

Jace rolled his eyes. “Fine. Take me home. One condition.”

Porter hummed, still rubbing circles along Jace’s ankle.

“No. Asking me about.” He waved his hands vaguely.

Porter had agreed, then stood and tucked Jace under his arm. Told everyone they passed: Stardiamond’s cut off. Just looking out for him.

“You,” Jace had announced as Porter fiddled with his truck's climate control. “Did that on purpose.”

Porter grinned at him. “It’s winter break. Everyone will forget about it.”

Jace narrowed his eyes. Porter turned down the music. They drove in silence.

It had never bothered him before how little he remembered of it. The fallout was much more memorable. Much more galvanizing.

“It was an accident,” Jace finally said, head feeling unfortunately clearer. He recognized the streets. They weren’t going downtown; they were still in Tillering—winding the streets to Porter’s house. “It was… like a wild magic surge.”

Porter had stayed quiet, keeping his eyes on the road. Snow was finally beginning to fall (what a strange detail to remember so clearly). Despite the empty roads, Porter signaled his turn and as he was slowly easing onto his street he finally spoke: “Didn’t think you were that kind of sorcerer.”

“I’m not.”

Porter stayed quiet the rest of the drive; uncharacteristically, he did not push—but he did reach over and put a hand on Jace’s knee. He kept it there, an unending point of warmth in the winter chill. He should have asked Porter to drive him back to the school.

He felt sober enough to drive. To go home.

But something ugly was crawling up Jace’s throat—a wave of sudden doubt. If he asked Porter to do that, if he drove home and started the winter break alone in his beautiful, empty townhome…

Would they—

[dearweirdme]

https://www.tumblr.com/dearweirdme/742406046571806720/i-went-and-took-a-quick-gander-at-the-jkk-tag-just?source=share

I agree with the answer and I partially agree with the original jkk blog.

Probably because I liked a post on twitter as tae biased, I get lately a lot of posts from vmin shippers (?- I am not sure if they seriously ship them). Their posts look EXACTLY like jkk. Jimin is loving and affectionate and initiates a lot of skinship with everyone, especially the maknae line. These last few days I saw so many vmin "moments" that could easily be Jkk. Backhugs, Jimin bringing his face super close or looking in Tae's eyes very flirtily. But all of the moments end in laughter, exactly as I have seen happening in Jkk. Like "I am comfortable with you and I have a playful personality and I am an idol and I have grown up with you and seen you naked and probably seen some porn with you" lol, as I imagine young boys who grew up together do. I get the exact same energy. Friendship.

In Tkk, no. Their actions are charged. Every little thing they do carries secrets. And for me it's all in the discrepancies. "I barely interact with you in the official Busan concert content but I am taking you for a secret late night walk at the beach after it", "we film as coworkers at the Belaggio but we take private intimate pictures there too" "I am kinda dismissive about our relationship in public but we video call each other constantly when we are not in each other's house" "I will describe my tour habits to make it look like we are not that close but when I am with you I will look at you like Ima bout to eat you up to the point our friend wants to leave the room". No, I dont see the same energy btw Tkk and all the other pairings.

Hi anon!

I suppose it's a bit of both.. in certain ways there's a lot of simularities between member interactions, but there's details that make them all differ a bit. Jm to me is the most physical member, so he has the most physical interactions with all members as well. Those moments do all look alike, I agree.

I have a few asks mentioning vmin and how it's less of a ship than Tkk and Jkk. What is the difference? Because it would be an obvious competitor right, even with them locking it down as a platonic soulmate bond? I kinda tend to think Jm and Jk's chemistry (yes they do have chemistry.. just not the romantic kind) is the easiest for BH to work with. Everything we see in official footage is an editing choice. Jk and Jm make for an active, banterous, playfull pair.. which is what people love to watch. There's a real chance that Tae and Jk's (suiteable for public) moments are indeed less interesting to watch if you look at it from an etertaining perspective. I think Tae and Jm together are probably also less entertaining to watch than Jk and Jm.

Whenever we do see Jk and Tae though.. it's full of familiarity and intimacy and touchiness. There is a tension there that is not there between other members.

[gildedmuse]

So, most the One Piece fans in my life have been discussing the live action series, and, surprisingly, most with a hopeful tone. Which is great because, seriously, I'm too old and close to death to deal with either of the following preemptive attitudes:

"Look, I know trailer footage is not only often unfinished but not even always what gets included in the final project but based purely off the smallest of moments contained in this purely commercialized content, I can definitely state with absolutely no doubt that due to minor detail, the whole thing sucks"

"This will be just like I imagined it including all the changes I would make to canon that have never once been hinged at by those in charge, I just know it's going to be not just as awesome as I have created in my mind but even betyeyr and there is absolutely no way they'd ever make the slightest change that would somehow immediately ruin the entire property retroactively for me!"

The fact that most the people I interactive with are taking a positive but grounded attitude instead of determinedly antagonist or unhinged optimism is just... Nice. Really, really nice.

Most our discussions regard general aesthetic and what we think these creative choices indicate for the show, but there has been one area where 95% of all feedback has been glowly positive, and that is the actors. Seriously, every sneak peak trailer reveal brings about more fan-gushing from the bleachers (related note, this means that any characters we haven't seen gets more and more nails bitten short. Like, why haven't I seen the Benn Beckman? This is actually really important to me.)

This has lead to a lot of excitement for potential future cast members, including from the boys at my work. Which.... They are definitely fans, there is no denying that, but like... I don't think of as "those kinds of fans" .

But I'm always happy to be proven wrong.

AnimeDub Fan Coworker: I've never seen a more perfect live action adaptation than Mihawk in the trailer. The word. The eyes. The facial hair. Like damn.

Manga/Anime Fan Coworker: The cast looks so fucking on. I know this will never get a season 2, but if it did, the absolute dream would be for Jamie Lee Curtis to play Kureha.

Me: Yes, please. She's on my list of Characters I Have To See In Live Action. It's Law (obviously), Kid & Killer but particularly Killer, Ace of course, Robin because ROBIN, and Kureha who, yeah, is on the list cuz I want JLC or equivalent.

AD Fan: You just went off about how Garp was too hot but are cool with Jamie Lee Curtis as Kureha?

Me: Yeah, because unlike Garp, Kureha is canonically smoking.

AD Fan: Agree to disagree.

M/A Fan: They'll probably go for no names again like they did for this cast, but dream casting would be Alexandra Daddario as Robin. Boom.

M/A Fan: *With absolutely no further promoting from me* Ooooooh I got another fake casting. This one's for Kid. Cameron Monaghan.

M/A Fan: He's played crazy before too. And he's really good at it. He was pretty much "the Joker" in the show Gotham. AND he was the gay brother on Shameless. So he can totally be pirate married to Killer!

Me: *Desperately trying to remember when I mentioned in my work chat - that includes a few non-geeks, like not just not OP fans but just straight up not up with geek culture - that Kid and Killer were Pirate Married, a phrase which is very much so mine.*

Me: *Decides it doesn't matter and just gives self a point to converting yet another normal fan straight boy around to the correct view of Kid and Killer's relationship.* Now we just need someone who can pull off the perfect 80 glam rock star AND NHL defense player and we have two more Supernoves cast and ready to go.

I don't know how I keep convincing these straight boys who have probably never read a fanfic in their lives to get behind Kid/Killer as canonical Pirate Husbands, but when one of the major considerations for fan-casting is, "would Mina find him suitable gay with Killer?" you know you've won. I'm not sure what exactly, but it's definitely a win.

[ovaryacted]

I NEED more milf content, like how does everyone on this platform just normalize older men with younger women. I love the mom's best friend or even like dad's coworker (yes this is something i have seen and it's SOOO GOOD) trope so much. -🍭

I’m collecting all of the emoji anons like fucking infinity stones YASSS! BIG SLAY!

Yes absolutely agree anon. Like sure, I get that people love the older man/younger woman dynamic (cause of daddy issues) especially for most male characters who just happen to be introduced when they are already at an older age (like Joel Miller I get it cause duh that’s pee paw right there). The thing that upsets me the most about these fics is it’s hard to not make the male character creepy (which I get is part of the taboo appeal). Personally, these type of fics aren’t like my go-tos, I’m really picky about them but otherwise I avoid them for the most part.

But we get introduced to Leon when he’s 21, and we see him at different stages in his life at different ages. Why not flip the script and get Leon with an older woman and that relationship can have the same taboo aspects that are so frequently normalized? It’s like a double standard thing and lowkey irritates me, even though I get not everyone is a 30 something year old person with kids so it defies the purpose of making it a reader insert. But we should normalize milfs and older women in fiction anyway, they’re hot, they’re interesting, and the different plot points that can be used are so wide and vast you just have to get creative with it.

I also think erotica & writing overall can be ignorant cause what do you mean you’re fine with a man almost in his mid 40s being with someone in their early 20s but when it’s an older woman all hell breaks loose cause women shouldn’t age or be old as if both dynamics don’t involve the same taboo, morally grey themes lol. Like shut up bro.

Leon as a character is interesting because depending on the version of him you use, you can mold him into multiple situations cause he doesn’t just fit into one.

Best friend’s mom is my personal favorite and it would make sense with Leon’s family background too, can be some really good angst fuel and really bring out how taboo that dynamic is. Plus, I think it’s fitting cause Leon could have mommy issues (I headcanon that) so it just clicks. Dad/Mom’s coworker or friend is also fun depending on how close they know each other, especially if the character involved happens to visit them at work and shit.

I’m just saying, I want to write more content with older women. As a writer in general, I want to write out things that aren’t seen in every day fanfic, there’s so many tropes out there but I get tired of seeing the same thing. I just think it’s because people normalize age gaps and rough sex with older men (which I get cause me too). I just want something different, a palate cleanser if you will. Even though I’m not that old, it would be a challenge and I’d like to test the waters, add more diversity to my creative work so yeah. :)

[lilbittymonster]

👤 for Ryne, Thancred and Emmanellain? 👀

Ryne- Ryne/Mini-fillia got pulled under Kitali's wing pretty damn fast along with the twins. She saw a lot of herself and how her own mother had treated her in how Ryne was being treated by Thancred, and that was her biggest (and really only) point of contention with him in ShB. Kitali wants to see Ryne thrive and grow into her own person and she thinks about her a lot.

Thancred- Thancred and Kitali really didn't get along with each other at first. Their senses of humour just didn't align and neither really knew what to make of the other, so they settled on "cordial coworkers". It wasn't until he came back in Heavensward that they finally managed to click with each other, now that all the pretenses are stripped away and it's just them being two very broken and lonely people. It got as far as them hooking up one night, but they were both like "well this was fun but i think we work better as friends" and they've been my brotp ever since. Thancred is Her Tank, I take him with me whenever possible. He always comes through for her.

Emmanellain- As soon as he introduced himself as the "second trueborn son" Kitali decided she hated him. He was more trouble than he was worth and she very much did not sign up to babysit him. Alphinaud was more well-behaved than him and Emmanellain was a decade older. He remained a nuisance throughout the expansion and became an especially irritating bit in the patches once he was set to replace Haurchefant at Camp Dragonhead. Kitali may not have actually physically punched him at Falcon's Nest, but she sure did give him a thorough dressing down about how he has been conducting himself so far.

I haven't gotten my own island to the max rank yet but I know what happens, and I think at the point of Endwalker Kitali is......not proud, exactly, more relieved that he's finally stepping up. (Though she agrees that sending him to be an emissary for Ishgard was a far better use of his time than trying to mould him into a soldier. Well done, Artoirel.)

Thanks for the ask @terendelev!

Send 👤 to ask about an NPC in my muse's life

[the0ldmann]

Headcannon time! (I'm sorry, I never know if it's one word or two-)

(Reminder that ''Something's Wrong with Sunny Day Jack" is an adult only fandom- minors and ageless blogs will be blocked on sight!)

I was just thinking about the 4 seasons earlier- some coworkers were talking about their favourites and why they were their favourites. So naturally, when I was on my own again, I had to wonder if *any* of our boys had favourites. Because nothing gets me through a rough workday better than thinking about these guys- *ahem*

Yes that's right though- *any* of them. I know I've typically only written stuff for the most beloved of clowns, but this seemed easy enough an exercise I thought I'd give it a go for all of them. So without further ado, here we go!

Joeseph:

Winter. He wanted to say summer, he really did. But with all the painful memories of school being out, having to deal with his "home life" (that let's remember was bad enough he ran away), and then struggling in the summer heat while undoubtedly homeless for a bit after having run away... It seems he was in the southern continental United States in the 80s during this point in his life. Winter wouldn't have been too ungodly cold at the time, so that might have been fairly okay to deal with. But summer? Summer heat would have still been unbearable even then. Not to mention if he had to dumpster dive for food, it would all rot quicker, and excessive sweating from the heat would have made him stink... Winter time meant school, and therefore getting away from 'home.' It also meant an ever so slightly more comfortable temperature-wise time while stuck on the streets (though I'm sure it still sucked, the heat of summer makes things 10x worse and so winter at least would bring mild relief in that regard). Once he gets the acting gig, starts turning his life around, and starts making friends, then there's also the holidays to contend with. Sure, the stress on family is painful I imagine. But if he had some genuinely good friends like some of his cast mates (other than Jean) seem to be? I inagine they might have invited him over for a friend get-together. Or they'd visit him where he's staying and bring a casserole and maybe a rotisserie chicken. They'd look out for him. And you can't tell me that wouldn't make the holiday season just a little more enjoyable for him. (Oh gods now I'm thinking about an impromptu friends-giving with all the cast members at like, a hotel Joeseph is staying at, I can't, who's cutting onions-)

Jean:

Autumn. Hear me out- he strikes me as pretentious af. A chunk of the content I see for him seems to have the fandom agree. Definitely full of himself with that ego he seems to carry around. So I'm going to go out on a limb and say that spring, summer, and winter try to, in his mind, hinder his perfect appearance/environment and so he hates them. You can't tell me he likes being uncomfortable, literally everything we know about him screams "if I'm not comfy 100% of the time I'm going to make it everyone's problem." Winter is too cold for him. Dressing trailer? No no no, he wants a room in the studio itself- a trailer would be far too cold. He'd shiver nonstop, ruin the makeup, and he just doesn't seem like the type to enjoy wearing fifty layers to keep warm. Summer is too hot. He's sweating everything off. While he may seem like someone to take pride in the way he looks, I imagine he only likes to do that in his own time, preferable at a pool, and not because he's sweat through the third costume since noon and has had to strip down yet again. Not to mention heat does tend to make people more aggressive... Spring? Too wet. He absolutely likes to keep himself looking perfectly styled, and the drowned rat look rain gives is not desireable to him. Spring is well known for its rain after all. So all that leaves is autumn! Temperate weather, not a whole lot of rain, gentle breezes, and some great fashions are fall perfect. He was wearing a turtleneck sweater in the one picture, wasn't he? Turtlenecks- perfect for fall weather and perfect for looking sharply dressed but also somewhat casual at the same time. That's it. He cares way too much about his appearance.

Shaun:

Autumn. He's absolutely an autumn fan. How could he not be? The weather is getting cooler so it's perfect for sweaters and cuddles. Spooky month (October) is in autumn and we all know he's a big horror fan. It's also the start of the holiday season, and for someone so willing to go out of his way to help and even just spend time with those he cares about? Regardless of what other autumn holidays besides Halloween he may or may not celebrate, you can't tell me he wouldn't take advantage to spend more time with those he cares about.

Jack:

All of them. No no, I literally mean it. Sure it may seem like a cop-out, but do you really think he could actually pick a favourite? One he likes more than the others? You would think summer would be his favourite- the clearest skies for the sunniest days are in summer and lords know Sunny Day is in the man's name... But I genuinely think he's such a positive and brighter-side-of-things kinda guy that he would say he loves them all.

Summer? Perfect for camping, going to the beach, enjoying ice cream for two but sharing one spoon...

Spring? The start of new life! Flowers are in bloom, animals are making babies (and whether or not he could make babies with you, he certainly wouldn't mind an excuse for the exercise), and the spring rains really do carry a freshness to them that rain during the rest of the year just does not have.

Autumn? Starting to get cooler, so it's perfect for bundling you up, especially in his jacket. Get cozy on the hillside as you stargaze at night...

Winter? (Assuming there will be snow.) Better like curling up under a blanket with him by the fireplace! Only after a long day of building a snowman with him, or after having enjoyed a lovely carriage ride through the park. Plus with numerous holidays coming up (pick your flavor), why wouldn't he want to spend as much time as possible with those he cares about? If its a holiday with any sort of gift giving or special foods/baked goods, surely you wouldn't go without gifting him a plate of his favourite chocolate chip cookies, would you?

Ian:

Spring. No, I wasn't influenced by the bunny costume. ... Okay I absolutely was. But I can still justify this! He seems like, if Jean is his dad like I've seen some people theorize, then I imagine he'd take after dislike of being uncomfortable and so that would rule out summer and winter. He also only has one childhood friend, so school had to be relatively rough to deal with. He had someone to hang with over the summer at least, but autumn is the start of school season. Therefore, autumn is the start of dealing with school bullies again. Spring would herald a soon-to-be end to the school season, with decent temps, and considering the fact he's a weeb- cherry blossom season. Again, spring is also the season of new beginnings. While we don't know when Ian and MC move in the game, spring almost seems like the perfect time for it to happen. Right after graduating, get away from toxic family as quickly as possible, and all the symbolism with them starting a new chapter... It just fits. And if Jean is his dad, spring could be viewed the opposite of his, while also being quite similar in a way- similar temps being the most obvious similarity.

Nick:

Summer. He is an influencer after all. What better season for doing all the fun things and showing them off, but the good ol' summer season? Water parks, camping trips, outlet malls, visits to the dog park, beach visits, museum trips, vacationing to other places in general... Also, it's so hot out, it's the perfect excuse to go to your fav local froyo place and try asking out the cutie behind the counter!

(I do not codone this behaviour of Nick's btw, please don't ask out people while they're at work, it's uncomfy af-)

Bonus Barry:

(Yeah I'm adding Barry for the all of probably three people that simp for him here.)

Summer. It's probably his favourite but not for the most obvious of reasons. Of course his business of frozen treats will be booming during the hottest season of the year- raking in the dough and boosting his ego for being "such a good manager to keep the ship running so smooth during such a busy time!" But if Sauce wasn't totally joking around when they said Barry had "never forgotten about you" in that ominous looking text... Well, what better season than summer to make your favourite worker sweat and squirm under your gaze? What better time than summer to leave them panting and breathless with your incessant phone calls demanding attention unpaid overtime that leaves them too exhausted to utter a word in protest? Plus, bodies rot and decay faster in the heat...

(okay but for real I hate Barry, I've had mamagers like Barry, I hope he gets some comeuppance be it either death or getting demoted or just having to do our job in our stead- and btw watching a manager like that get forced by their supervisor to come help you in a rush and have to ask you what to do and take direction from you? Good gods it happened to me once but it was worth the world to me heeheeheeheehee-)

(Holy shit this was long af- way longer than I intended, whoops! Hope ya'll enjoyed though! Also hope the formatting is okay as soon as I hit post cause I did this all on mobile-)

[asianpopfan]

Shuhua is becoming problematic:

During the last couple of years (maybe 2~), Shuhua has started getting more and more backlash for her general attitude. People claiming she is immature/impolite and narcissistic - in a sense that she doesn’t care or take account other peoples’ wishes and comfort and takes time to read the room and know when to not cross the line and making remarks that could potentially make her seem ungrateful or negatively sarcastic.

I love G-Idle, they are the second female girl group I ever started following; I am not too much into watching the members’ content too much but I do it sometimes. So I can’t and I refuse to have a side in this situation.

Because I believe that she should be given the benefit of the doubt:

I can totally see all sides, in one she is a joker and has been having these “problematic” interactions with her fans(online) and group members, so people to whom she is somewhat close. On the other side the “proofs” are there and she should be more careful especially when talking to fans online. She never knows what these fans will perceive her jokes because no matter what, they aren’t truly friends.

My point is: We don’t know how she really is and what her intentions (conscious or not) truly are. Some people are sneaky about it. And that’s exactly how many people have started to view her as.” It doesn’t mean that she isn’t a good person, but not the way some defenders claim. She has been working (and maybe living too) with her group members for 5+ years now. They might as well be friends… or not! That’s the trick. Even if they aren’t friends though, they can still care for each other and have fun and joke around! But sometimes even in friendships certain “silly” behaviours are annoying for some people. Not everyone is fine with it, stop making it an eastern Asian or Chinese societal issue. Not everyone needs to spank or be spanked in the ass by their group members to be close. Some jokes are sneaky but if dove often the vibe is off and less genuine even if there is a connection.

This actually reminds me of someone saying that kpop fans are so obsessed with “chaos”, loudness and banters and fake silly fights, touchy etc idols that they believe that everyone who isn’t like that is not close and in a negative way. Because no, being coworkers isn’t bad at all. Not only you can have fun regardless but even if you don’t it’s fine! For example IVE are not as “chaotic” as other groups and are more subtle but kind to each other and their jokes are more harmless that people try to shame them for that. Also, sometimes the group isn’t chaotic but people push this narrative with edits and dramatic music. I remember watching a “Lesserafim is already an iconic chaotic group” after 2 weeks of debut because they danced/moved in a cool way in a video in the practice room…

All I can say and agree on us that she’s risky! The latest thing she has done to her fans was replying something that implies d¥ing to a fan who joked on her on an Instagram comment. I guess many people joke like that especially with close people but some don’t and it’s very impolite and/or uncomfortably received to strangers or so/so friends that you don’t meet everyday. {Personally, I believe that we should all check our vocabularies and avoid certain negative comments and jokes such as “I’m d¥ing” to refer to laughing and introduce “I’m living for it” instead, I believe in neuroscience}.

The latest thing she has done to her group members is joking with Yuqi at a concert. Pulling her from behind from the top of her skirt and joking in an annoying/immature way. This is risky because it’s not worth it to risk embarrassing Yuqi with a possible wardrobe malfunction in front of thousands of fans for the sake of being annoying. Even if it wasn’t the intent. People defend her saying that this is how friends play around, sure but we don’t (truly) know how close they are and their friendship dynamics and even if it doesn’t mean that Yuqi actually was fine with it just because she didn’t make a fuss in public (she was telling her to stop though). Many people wouldn’t like it too much even if they will later forget about it. At the end of the day only Yuqi can have a proper say on this and tell her if she wants her to stop. We don’t know how Yuqi truly feels about it either.

I do not have opinions on her as a person but I do think that she needs to behave/mature a little. Maturing is also applied to sneaky silky stuff like that and it seems that most people forget it. It doesn’t seem like a big problem but once you start to understand more about different dynamics, how others will take it or if there could be incomprehensions or secret annoying feelings, you understand that you need to modify the things you say and do. Not necessarily cutting off the joking style. (Just like in swapping “d¥ing” with “living”).

I have also done it myself and I think that I somehow elevated myself as in individual and my humor. Yes, pay attention to the things you consume and avoid controversial humor (many of them aren’t even funny…usually jokes made by non comedians males are the worst).

[luckyshotwrites]

Ch. 36 // Parched // Day 23

Contents (Warnings): Guess who might have broke a rule...maybe? (hunger pains, character shenanigans, more character information, and further monster/magic explanations).

Wordcount: 3301 (I'm getting no sleep tonight).

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

(Oct. 8th, Saturday)

"The touchy thing-" I didn't know what he called it. "Alexander told me he could do that-can, you not?"

Claudia answered before Drake could even muster up a reply. "Ha, he's not part magus!" Claudia put her hand out. "That's a special trait magus have. It's a good defense mechanism in case they get eaten." 

"O-oh, I-" I think Alexander mentioned it as a Magus trait. Drake refused to look at me. He started to move along again. 

"Drake, hey, I'm sorry!" I had no idea what to say. What am I supposed to say? Did I make him mad because I'm so ignorant? No. Maybe? It could be a mixture of the two. 

Claudia patted my head, "you're much more generous than I thought."

I stopped as I almost ran into a few monsters walking around. "Drake's one of the only nice monsters out of you guys, so I'd like to help him, especially since he doesn't eat people."

June finally spoke out, finishing his drink, "do you not offer yourself to your coworkers? I thought you would since you stayed and all."

"NO," I exclaimed. "I hate when they do it. It's disgusting!" I pointed in the direction of our pizzeria tent. "We sell awesome-tasting pizza; they could eat that or any other normal food."

June nodded in agreement, "exactly. It's not like things taste any different."

"You're a slime, so, of course, everything tastes the same to you!" Claudia giggled. She flashed me a smile, "also, Lynette, if given the option between eating you or human food, I'd pick you on most occasions. You're an excellent source of energy and tasty."

I shivered. "I am NOT. I've already licked myself. I taste like nothing." 

She didn't heavily tease me like the others. I felt a soft comfort from that, at least. 

"You have human taste buds, not monster taste buds. Ours are superior." Claudia said.

"They're wrong," I muttered. 

"Right."

"Wrong."

"Right."

"Wrong!"

"Right~"

I imagined we could do this all day. I was briefly reminded of what she said yesterday, so casually with a smile. I turned away and grumbled.

"We can agree to disagree."

Claudia nodded along.

I took a small swig of my specialty jumbo. I felt a light buzz on my tongue. I pulled the drink back and felt at it. It was like someone pricked my tongue with a few pop rocks. 

"That's-is it supposed to shock you?"

June shrugged, "it doesn't feel tingly to me. Mostly just cold."

Claudia smirked, "can I try some of yours? I wanna see how different it is!"

She held her hand out. "Is there anything that could happen if I-" If she had poison spit, I would have known. I had happily almost forgotten what had happened the day before yesterday. "Nevermind." 

I offered it to her. 

She took a big drink. I tried to put my hand up and stop her. She nearly finished it off. 

She smacked her lips a few times, "no. It's pretty similar, yours is a little sweeter, but the buzz is SO much smaller."

"Ah." So it's just me? "Do you not feel things either, June?" I asked. I took another sip, feeling it again mixed with the fruity mango flavor. 

He waved his empty bottle about as he talked, "from what I understand, no." He pressed his face with his free hand. "I mean, if you poke me, I can feel it. But it's more of a nice feeling. I hear pain isn't fun? Sandra explained the closest feeling we have is when we put too much stuff into our bodies."

Too much in your body? I thought as I glanced over. He's not super tall or anything. "Is that a constant problem for you guys?"

"Not often. But sometimes I forget and eat a lot." June confessed with a slight pep in his step. He pressed at his abdomen, "we can fill a majority of my body, but if we fill it too much, it pushes our own film too thin, and it'll burst outward." He laughed while holding worry in his grin. "It is actually one of the ways many of us die."

The last sentence hit me like a truck. WHAT?! I couldn't believe he openly told me a way to kill him. I could feel the overbearing weight of his trust. And my instinct to protect him rose up. 

He seemed like the least threatening out of the morning crew. They actually all seem better than most of the people I work with. I thought to myself, excluding Viola and Drake. I grumbled in my thoughts. 

"I'll keep that in mind, and I do hope you don't eat that much for whatever reason."

"I don't plan on!" He said.

We arrived at the tent a minute or two later. Edgar cheered at our arrival. 

"Good morning!" He ushered Claudia and me to him. Claudia would be helping with customer cleanup and service after they had their pizza. I would still be taking orders, but Edgar explained I'd be working with Zilla as Alexander needed to make the pizzas. 

Drake was already there, starting early too.  

…

Alexander

"She did WHAT!"

Drake elbowed Alexander in his ribs. 

Alexander lowered his voice, pulling his chair out to sit down. Drake followed suit. 

Alexander squinted over in Lynette's direction. He could see her taking orders next to Zilla. She had such a chipper expression even as the monsters leaned toward her. How can she not look so preyish with them? Does she do it on purpose to mess with me? 

Alexander muttered. A hint of jealousy trickled past his still, slightly famished lips. "She offered herself to you?"

Drake put his face in his palm, "please do not say it like that right now."

Alexander glanced back when he heard Drake's desperate whimper.

He leaned back in his chair, stretching out his arms, making their current height difference very noticeable. "How has Lynette survived this long? She's ridiculous." 

"She's never been around monsters. You know how it-" Drake stopped his sentence.

"Yeah?" Alexander said with a bit of sass. Like I'd hang out with what I eat. I'd hate to be hungry constantly. His hand traced his current meal subconsciously. "She's been with us for a few weeks. She can't use that excuse." He said. 

Drake slumped further down in his chair. "How do you get over the hunger?"

Alexander chuckled, "I eat."

"Dude."

"What?" Alexander found himself eyeing Lynette again. He turned his gaze away before she noticed. "I'm the last person you should ask for something like that. You know I'd love to be full at all times."

Drake let out an exaggerated sigh. One at which made Alexander smile, teasing him. 

...

Lynette

I felt worn. The amount of different-looking beings I met made me feel much smaller as a person. And made me wonder how many of them lurked around my area. 

We were getting closer to closing, so the customer flux was slowly dying. However, the next customer was finally familiar. 

"Hey there," the male looked over my face, "oh, hey again, Wayland, right?"

I nodded, "yeah. Nice to see you again…." I forgot the agent's name. I just remembered their partner gave me their number after the thing with Mara. 

He pressed back his sky-blue hair, "glad to see you look well." His attention went back to the menu, "you haven't had any complications lately, have you?" 

He had a sincere brisk to his tone. 

"N-no." I held my hands with a small 'x'. I left out what happened yesterday because it had been handled. "It's all been fine. And…how are you with your work?"

He sighed like we were old friends. "Tiring, but that's part of the job. There's always something new going on."

No one was behind him in line, and Zilla was cleaning up the counters. "You're getting a break, though, right?" I gestured to where we were.

"I'm still on duty, well, break as of now. The C.P.P.A. helps with events like these as there are a lot of different species here." He popped out of thought, "and sorry, I should get some food before I talk your ear off."

The male with pastel pink eyes talked casually compared to the serious professionalism when we first met. He ordered the triple meat with pineapples, small. 

He leaned on the counter near me. He looks human, except he has the same slight sharp point to his ears as Sandra had. I tugged at the end of my uniform shirt. I hated thinking about it, and I wanted to send a message before as a thank you, but I felt they only needed to talk to me during emergencies. 

"Is your partner from earlier here too?"

"No. We're on the quick dispatch unit. So we get paired up at random." 

"Well," he turned to look at me, "if you see them again, I-I know I said thank you before, but I really mean it, and I want you both to know that I'm thankful."

He smiled, "of course." 

After that, another customer came up. He said goodbye to me, and our shift was finally done. We were closing up shop. But Tristan, Edgar, and Viola would be doing a few small orders for another hour or so. 

The morning crew sent messages in the chat for us to join them at the event zone.

Claudia pushed at Alexander, "hey, hey, big guy, do you wanna do that magic competition?"

Alexander glared down at her, "and possibly fight you? Hell no."

"Aw! It'll be fun! You know how many people are gonna be a part of that too!"

I had to step back as the two giants, Alexander and Lev, surrounded her talking about it.  

Zilla and Drake were in their human forms, so I felt far more comfortable around them.

"Are you going to compete?" I asked them both. 

Drake shook his head, not answering.

Zilla chuckled, "the rules on the magic portion are iffy. There are a lot of technicalities because of the types of magic used and how much power you use on someone, so it'd be more of a hassle than fun to me." 

I looked down at my phone. I saw the group chat, and Beatrice responded, and the thought popped into my head. 

"O.H.! Sweet house!" I exclaimed. 

"Ah, I saw that event posted yesterday. More treats do sound nice." 

I looked at where her hand went. That's so weird. I then peered ahead, looking toward the giant Alexander. I still felt heavily uncomfortable trying to talk to him, especially as he was. I assumed he might have been convinced to do the competition by the sound of it. 

"A-alexander…" My voice came out too quiet. He didn't hear me. 

Zilla smiled, "he can't do anything to you. Why are you so worried?"

I muttered, "he can do stuff to me after today."

"Right," Zilla hummed, "unless you and I make some deals of our own.~" 

"I can't," I replied. I was going to explain, but she continued.

"I understand you created these competitions to increase your chances of success. It was very clever." Zilla said. "And lucky for you, they both don't back down from a challenge. If they did, there would be no other way to avoid them." She leaned over, "so if that ever does fall through… I'll be happy to have us work together again.~"

It's why I felt I couldn't do anything too complicated or tedious…but simultaneously, it hurt my sanity. 

We continued a bit of chatter. Arriving at the event zone. Everyone except Zane, Zilla, Drake, and Claudia were in their monster forms.

I let a majority of the giants talk to themselves. 

A hand wrapped around me; they brought me up, and I cried out.

Alexander looked ready to attack, then squinted ahead. "Beatrice."

"We've got a date~ She wanted to go with me to Sweet house while all of you do your little magic show."

I didn't take the polka dots off my boots yesterday. I couldn't stop myself if Beatrice dropped me. It was a long drop, too, as she was taller than Alexander. 

"Do you think I trust you watching her?"

"Come on, Alex~" Her tone sang sweetly as she lifted me higher than chest height, "You know I'd take excellent care of a cutie like her."

He eyed me. I didn't want either of them to manhandle me. He sighed and waved his hand, "if you lose the shrimp, I'm kicking your ass." Then pointed at me, "and if you get eaten again, I'm not helping you."

I gave a weak nod, and she buzzed happily with a slight flutter of her wings. She flipped me in her hand and brought me to her face. Her soft honey yellow eyes looked over me, more excited than I expected. Why can't they act normal with me! Like keeping me down on the ground...

My eyes brushed over her fuzzier exterior, rounded wings, and antenna. Is she a bee? The joke being Beatrice would be a go-to bee name. And her exterior held a very yellow and black color.

"Ready, honey~."

"Ready for sweet house...y-yes."

She was on the move but didn't put me any lower. She kept me near her lips. 

"B-Beatrice, can you put me down?"

"I don't want to lose track of you, or Alexander will be mad." She pressed at her cheek with her other free hand, "and your natural aroma is so relaxing.~"

Is it my flowery shampoo? I asked myself.

"I can-" I couldn't think of anywhere to be. Beatrice's shoulders were about my size, but that was it. She didn't have a bee backend. "Maybe sit on your shoulders?"

Beatrice chuckled, "That's too lowly and tacky. This is a lot better." 

"Beatrice!" A voice from behind called her. She turned with me, and I saw a group of what looked to be humans approaching her. 

"My lovelies." She hummed and went to gather them up.

…

Drake

I did pretty well. Drake said to his head. Not that it was over yet. Once the competition started, many other recently released prey were walking around.

"You good?" The gruff low tone questioned from beside him. 

He glanced over at the fuzzy black-furred being, with devilish pawed clawed hands, as well as two more arms much lower coming out from his abdomen. Its beam-like eyes peered at Drake curiously. He looked threatening, given his height was similar to Lev's. 

"Yeah…I just… shouldn't be around givers right now."

It shrugged its upper arms, "isn't this the best time to get willing humans?"

"I've been told. But I only drink their blood on a crescent moon."

Their head turned, perplexed by his confession, "oddly specific."

"I have to be," Drake said.

"Wouldn't that make you crave it more?"

"I'm trying to get over an addiction…besides animal blood works fine."

They stretched out on all fours for a second. "I'm not going pretend I know you, vampires." He replied, getting back up, "but I think it'd be worse if I forced myself away from what I like."

I think you were better than I was. Drake thought.

He heard his phone ring and answered.

"Drake, go find Beatrice and Lynette. Claudia and Lev won't stop telling me that I made a stupid decision and that Beatrice will leave her alone somewhere!" 

He sighed, "alright." And before Alexander could hang up, he heard the two teasing him more. 

After Drake thanked Elliot, thinking more about it. I just broke my habit. If I'd stuck to it, I wouldn't be this bad. He assured himself. 

It was hard to follow her scent and heart. Even though every heartbeat was distinct, with very slight audible differences to Drake, it was still hard to pinpoint Lynette's over all the others. 

He went to the Sweet House area and was about to head inside when he noticed Beatrice surrounded by other humans around a table. She's weak to compliments. 

He got closer to it, seeing Lynette was next to her arm. He got closer and tapped at Beatrice. She noticed him and smiled down.

"Hey, Drakey~." 

He could nearly see her inflated ego. "Alexander sent me to pick up Lynette."

"Ah~ Of course." She put her back down on the ground near Drake. 

Lynette stumbled about before gaining her balance. "Thank you…" She muttered, and he nodded, ushering her to follow. 

"W-wait." Lynette touched his shoulder. 

He traced her arm up and back to her neck, then her face. "Mhm?" He could hear her heart soften, and he tried to control his line of sight. Though, as usual, his bangs hid it well. 

"I want one of those little turtle puffs, please! We didn't go into Sweet house yet!"

"We can later-"

"Please! It'll be real quick, and I can get you one too. You still need energy, right?"

His shoulders rose, "I-I don't eat normal food." His voice was trembling. 

Lynette put her face in her hands. "Sorry, sorry-" She peeked out of them, "maybe they might have a drink for you?"

Drink? "I'd love one." He accidentally said aloud.

"Thank you!" 

She took it as approval and went again toward the Sweet House.

Drake gritted his teeth, trudging behind her. 

She slowed down to allow him to catch up, or at least that's what he thought. She started to go toward a photo booth. 

Her heart sounded sweeter, reminiscing a delightful memory. "I took these with my family every year around Halloween." She looked back at him, "do you mind if I go in there and take a few pictures? My brother hates how I dress, so if I give him a strip of me doing poses with my outfit, he'll get mad." 

She had such an innocence to her tone. 

He allowed her to leave. It gave him a much-needed breather. There were only so many people around their current area as the events drew everyone. Especially since there were a few hours left.

"Drake!" She peeked from behind the red curtain, "do you mind helping me? I don't know how to work this."

Drake approached cautiously, going past the curtain to her. It was big, yet with no one around, it felt so close to him. 

She pointed at the smaller panel that was about their size. "How do I get it to work?"

His lips quivered, "it needs energy." He barely opened his mouth to speak. 

"Okay," Lynette got closer. He couldn't help but stare. And she spoke to him, "and Drake, I don't know if I hurt you or was mean to you earlier this morning."

Drake took a deep breath, "no need to bring this up now. O-o-okay."

There was a slight stutter to her beat. It sounds so lovely. 

He didn't hear anything else. It started to overtake her voice, turning it to background static. Her heart trembled with every little beat, a slight fear for him that she rarely ever expressed externally. 

She went forward, waving her hand in front of him. 

"Drake? Are you okay?"

He couldn't move away from her. His fangs needed to taste her flesh. 

"Drake?"

She took a step closer. Her expression held fear yet more worry than anything. 

"What do you need? Do you want me to call Alexander? Do you need me to get you that drink? Tell me something, anything. Please, how can I help you?"

Drake stepped over the panic in her tone. He focused on the word "anything" and wrapped his hand around her waist. She couldn't even fully yelp out as he exposed her neck to himself and leaned into her sinking his fangs deep into her bare neck.

…

Thank you for reading! :D Have a gouda day! (Nonnegotiable, if you're lactose intolerant, you're about to be in a lot of pain, sorry, not sorry. Lol).

First Chapter Previous Chapter Next Chapter

Catch up, see some maps/art, or check the latest release dates down below  ↓ ↓ ↓ 

What I’d do for a Livable Income (Synopsis/Chapter - List)