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fuckyeahgoodomens · 8 months ago

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Good Omens graphic novel update: June 2024

Welcome to the June update. A lot of behind the scenes work at the moment but we're grabbing the travel sweets, popping in the Bentley and hitting the road. More on that below.

Admin

Ongoing reminder that the project FAQ can be found here.

I pledged using my Apple ID, or no longer use the address my pledge is attached to, or I cannot work out what email address my pledge is connected to. What should I do? Please contact us via your Kickstarter account where the pledge is connected; we will be able to see on our system which address it is. If it's one you have access to, great! The FAQ has information on how to resend your invite link to access the PledgeManager. If it's one you are not able to access, then you can let us know which email is preferred and we can update this on the system, which will automatically send a new invite.

Events

We've had a lot of queries about when the Good Omens team will be attending events more formally, after some Aziraphale and Crowley spotting at conventions we'd been to previously. Well, we're excited to confirm the first: Good Omens HQ will be at ACME Comic Con in Glasgow, Scotland this September.

We'll be bringing the actual-real-life-home-to-Crowley-and-his-plants Bentley from Season 2 of Good Omens, the first time the car has been made available publicly for fans to come see and get photos with, ahead of its journey back to the set and the start of Season 3 filming.

We also see Quelin Sepulveda, aka Muriel, has been announced for the event for some additional ineffable joy.

You can get your tickets for ACME Comic Con here. We hope to see some of you there.

While we won't be rocking up with the Bentley to this next one, we want to let you know about Ineffable Con which, though sold out in person, is also taking place virtually in July. The fan-run event hosts great panels, auctions and more, with money raised going to Alzheimer’s Research UK, in memory of Sir Terry Pratchett.

Where next? We have - not an exaggeration - a list of about 200 events somewhere from when we asked fans this on Instagram and while we can't promise quite that amount of convention attendance, we're certainly looking to do some more things in future with Good Omens at large. Watch this space.

Good Omens items...

This month has largely seen prototypes and samples for the wider Good Omens merch store arriving, and while we can't share those yet, we are certainly excited to see more fan product suggestions coming to life. That does, however, leave our public item updates a little slim on the ground.

To make up for that, here's some new panels from Colleen:

Also known as, "What could possibly go wrong?" And:

Also known as, "Well why don't you ▇▇▇ ▇▇▇▇▇▇ ▇▇▇ ▇▇!@#▇" or words to that effect, we'd imagine.

Update from Colleen

Following such a positive response to Colleen's piece last month, bringing you behind the scenes into making the Good Omens graphic novel, we are delighted to say that she has agreed to write something for our updates going forward! For June, she's going more in depth into the process of flatting and the technicalities of colouring on screen vs print. Over to you, Colleen.

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I mentioned the other month that I use a flatter to help me with technical work on GOOD OMENS, and here is a great example.

This is my original, hand drawn line art.

And this is the flatting file which was created using the MultiFill computer program.

It will put your eyes out.

The raw image above demonstrates how the color art lines up solidly under the line art. If it doesn't do that, you get a weird phenomenon in print called ghosting, a tiny little line of white around each segment of color. I had this issue on one major project and ended up redoing every single color file after I got a look at the first printing. Nearly two weeks of work.

The same image with the line art on top.

The layer order looks like this.

Background copy is the clean, line art layer.

I scan the art at 600 dpi, then make the blacks pure black, the whites pure white. Then I convert back to greyscale, then RGB, then duplicate the layer. Then I delete the white on the upper layer so the line art layer is transparent but the blacks on that layer are not.

If you have blacks on a layer that has been multiplied, you can see slight color through those blacks. You want pure black.

The lower layer is where I use the MultiFill program to create the digital flats. First you use MultiFill to drop in the random colors, then the companion plug-in Flatter Pro to make those colors seal under the black lines.

This probably sounds like a silly thing to worry about, but if the flat colors don’t line up perfectly under the black line art, you get the dreaded ghosting I mentioned. You can see it below in this image. It’s a tiny little white line that will appear around the black lines and color areas.

This drives me nuts and is an absolute nightmare to fix.

It’s a very common problem, especially for people who work for web and don’t anticipate the problems going from web to print.

What looks great on your computer can cause big problems in print.

From here, my flatter Jul Mae Kristoffer, who is way over in the Philippines, does flatting that is more in keeping with the areas of color I want to isolate. As you see on Layer 1.

But again, this is still pretty ugly, and not what I would use for final color. Flatting is a technical issue, not a creative one, though in some cases a flatter will make choices you may use. Most of the time they don't.

Here is my final color page.

Sometimes my MultiFill flats are so wonky I have a hard time getting my brain to snap out of what I see before me. If I get stuck, it's a good idea to just pick at it and come back to it later.

If it really, really bothers me, I’ll take the MultiFill flatter layer and desaturate the color so it doesn’t poke my eyes out.

Here’s an example. The digital flat file.

The desaturated flat file that doesn’t make me want to poke my eyes out.

And the final color.

Sometimes I just put in a solid white layer so I don’t see the flats at all. Flatting is there to allow you to easily pick spots to color in, and doesn’t usually appear in the final work.

Sometimes I want to create my colors using transparent color over a white ground, which is more delicate in the final.

Here’s an example from Neil Gaiman’s American Gods. I also selected all black line art here and converted it to sepia to give it a vintage look. Except for the fairies. They’re green.

A colorist must also consider color settings.

Different clients can have different requirements. I find these color settings, which I got from the Hi-Fi Studio, to be pretty solid. I use them as my default for all my projects unless otherwise requested. If your publisher has other settings, they’ll usually send you a csf file which you can upload to Photoshop. The program will save your files and you can just switch between them as you need them.

This tells the printer things about the paper and the spread of the ink you will use. That’s what dot gain means - it makes printed color look darker than intended, so you set up your files to account for it.

When you hover your pointer over each box, it will tell you what each setting is supposed to accomplish.

Another really important thing to consider when coloring comics is color range.

I’m coloring this book in RGB range, but for print you use CMYK.

I’m about to confuse the heck out of some people with this post, I’m afraid. But here we go.

Here is this shot in RGB color setting.

And here is the same page calibrated for print in CMYK.

The biggest shift is in the reds. Print cannot match those reds.

You may not see much difference here, but it’s the sort of thing that drives artists crazy.

A computer should be perfect for conveying exactly what you want, right? It's all just 0's and 1's, binary information, and that information should be the same from one computer to the next?

Nope. Not even close.

First off, computer monitors must be calibrated. You can use a computer program or a tool that measures the color on your computer screen and then adjusts the color to an industry standard.

Have you ever been in an electronics shop where a bunch of TV shows were on display, all of them playing the same show, and have you noticed how different the color was from one TV to the next?

It's like that.

I freely admit I don't pay a whole lot of attention to calibration, but if I were a professional photographer I would. I'd have a little spectrometer attached to my screen and software would adjust my monitor to the best possible standard range. As it is, I just use the default setting on my computer and hope for the best.

If your monitor is properly calibrated and your art is shown on another monitor that is properly calibrated, the art will look almost identical from one monitor to the next.

YAY!

But from one monitor to the next, that's about where the resemblance ends.

Colors are calibrated to something called RGB, or Red, Green, Blue.

All colors come from a mix of red green and blue. At their greatest intensity, all the colors in the spectrum together become pure white light.

This is why RGB is called ADDITIVE color, because you ADD colors from the spectrum to get ALL colors, and all colors create the entirety of the rainbow, and pure white light.

Your computer monitor, your phone, your television, all images are created via light using RGB, a gamut that covers all possible colors that can be created.

That's a lot.

And that's why some of the colors you see on your TV or phone are so deep and intense.

For the widest possible range of color and intensity, you use RGB.

Unfortunately, there is what you can create with light, and then there is what you can create with pigment or ink. And that is why printing what you see on your computer almost never looks exactly like what you see in a book.

For printing, you must use a color setting known as CMYK. This stands for Cyan, Magenta, Yellow and Key/Black.

In printing, the pure blue is actually Cyan and the pure red is actually Magenta.

CMYK color range is not created by addition, but by SUBTRACTION. In order to get the color you want, you reduce the percentage of one of the four colors for ink mixing. Mixing all colors, instead of giving you white, gives you black.

The gamut of CMYK is limited to what can be created with ink.

You've probably heard the term four color press? This is what that means. Four colors, with each color of ink run over the paper on rollers which, combined in varying layers of opacity, create all the printing colors you see.

But remember, what you see on your computer monitor and what CMYK gamut can handle are two different things.

Now, I’ve been really careful with the color settings on Good Omens, so there haven’t been any big surprises, but let me show you a snippet of a project I did for the French fashion house Balmain.

The RGB version:

And then this shot after it was converted to a CMYK file for print.

That's a pretty big difference.

Now, you see this shift mostly with vibrant colors, such as that pink there. But other colors hardly changed at all, right?

That's because this issue is about range of color. CMYK and RGB occupy a shared range which you can see demonstrated by this graphic I got from Wikipedia.

The graphic shows the RGB ranges supported by various digital formats. SWOP CMYK is the most common range my publishers use. Note that the bounding box line shared by the RGB and SWOP CMYK formats shares about half the range space. So whatever RGB colors you use that are outside that range will be digitally converted to the smaller SWOP CMYK range.

And you may not like what you end up with.

As you can see, some of the most ethereal and intense colors get lost outside of the SWOP CMYK boundary.

A look at the Dark Horse Comics color settings in Photoshop. Theoretically, this information should prevent your art from looking like mud on publication.

Now, after I just told you the dangers of coloring in RGB then converting to CMYK for print, I tell you I am coloring Good Omens in RGB anyway. There’s a couple of reasons for this.

Remember, RGB give you a greater range of color, so it can be to your advantage to preserve your original files using a format that gives you the greatest range.

Again, here is the unaltered file.

You can see what the CMYK result will be simply by clicking the Proof Colors button here. This will show you how the art will convert.

And the Gamut Warning will show you which colors are out of gamut range for print.

The intensity of that magenta and that purple in the top right are not going to print true.

This is how it will look in final.

So even if you do what you think is perfect color on screen, there is no way it can perfectly convert to print. Almost everything will involve a little bit of compromise.

Even though you have to consider the color shift issues, preserving your files in RGB gives you greater wiggle room, especially if you get lucky someday and get to work with a printer who can print in 6 colors. Or maybe some technology you don’t know about will pop up and make printing super glorious. Who knows.

Regardless, you should keep an eye on that gamut and color for CMYK print, while preserving your master files in RGB.

Until next time.

#good omens #graphic novel #good omens graphic novel #graphic novel kickstarter #colleen doran

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centrally-unplanned · 5 months ago

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youtube

Academic History YouTuber Premodernist released video recently on "State Flag" discourse, and flag discourse more wildly, that I thought was pretty good! I agreed with 50% of it. For those who don't know, there is a longstanding movement in the vexillology community to push for more simplified flag designs, and they hate the state flags of the US as their antithesis; a movement that catapulted into the internet mainstream when YouTuber CGPGrey released a video riffing on that debate and grading all the state flag designs.

That video is great by the way (it's hilarious, CGP Grey is just very talented as a performer), and the biggest thing Premodernist is wrong about is that the state flags do suck. But what he gets right is that the so-called "principles" briefly referred to in the video are themselves pretty weak; some are fine but others do not hold up to much scrutiny. The state flags largely suck for the boring reason that they just suck; they are shitty designs and often repeat each other in a domain where "standing out" is the point. Like what the fuck Montana:

This is something a 5th grader whips up in PowerPoint for a class presentation. Helvetica Bold?? "Mandated by law in 1985" yeah I didn't need Wikipedia tell me this decision dates to the 80's.

But that is boring and subjective, right? You can't just say they suck. So you had to make a theory about it - and I won't go into too much detail but it generally boils down to:

Make it simple, "something a child could draw"

Make it "distinct at a distance", since it is a flag you are supposed to see it at a distance

Three colors or fewer

No words on flags

Which I think you can get the philosophy for. These principles, which CGP Grey outlines, actually come from the work of Ted Kaye, who is a big figure in the aforementioned flag reform movement and the focus of most of the video. As part of the original CGP Grey video I just rolled with that, but I did remember him showing Utah's newly designed flag at the end which embodied these principles, and uh:

This is kind of mid? Like it doesn't suck, but it looks like a corporate redesign of a hockey team logo or something. A bit of a red flag (hah) if your front-and-center case is weak.

Anyway this is what Premodernist digs into in the video. The stuff I agreed with the most are the parts where he just ???? at some of these rules. "No finicky bits", a "child must draw it", "distinct at a distance"? None of these actually track for say this one:

A child drawing the US flag does not draw 50 stars and 13 stripes unless they are a budding librarian; you absolutely cannot tell if this flag has 50 stars on it from a distance, and that level of detail is clearly some kind of finicky. Of course your response is "okay sure but still, I can tell what the flag is from a distance, I can't count the 50 stars but I get the gist". But that is true for almost all flags!

It's a fern and a peace pipe and a brown thing and the word "Oklahoma" below it, you absolutely, 100%, will be able to tell what this flag is at a distance. You don't need to count the leaves to get the general shape, and when you think about it, it is actually kind of silly anyone would claim otherwise. There just isn't any need to appreciate the tiny details on a flag to understand whose flag it is. (the only valid critique here is that everything should be bigger - too much dead space)

Not to mention the "see from a distance" thing even being a metric. That isn't how you encounter flags most often today? Maybe in the 19th century on a battlefield that was (and even then you had battle standards), but it isn't now. You see it in textbooks, on your computer screen, as an icon for a football game team, right next to you in a government office. Why privilege distance? You just made that up as a value. 99% of "flag consumption" is not seeing it at a distance.

The "only use ~3 colors thing" is the funniest, you can just argue this with...no? No you don't. You don't. What? No. You can...you can just use more colors? Here is an example from the "manual" Ted Kaye wrote on the subject:

And the 5 bands on the chinese flag are fine! They are not "hard to look at" or whatever. Also, I am screenshotting a tiny corner of a youtube video, this image is like 240p, and I can tell its a dragon - and that isn't even the color point it is trying to make, dude just deviates off into another critique. Meanwhile the Amsterdam flag looks like a traffic warning sign. Chinese flag needs to not have the white stripe connect into the white seal background, that is an error, but otherwise I prefer it.

It is annoying how many of the state flags are a blue banners with a round seal in the middle. That does make them hard to distinguish from each other. But that isn't a problem with seal-on-blue, that is just a collective action problem! Flag-reform-favourite the tricolor can run into this too - here are the flags of the Netherlands and Luxembourg:

Like one of your needs to go home and change, that is ridiculous. Though if you had a complex seal in the middle that might avoid this problem! Funny that.

Even the "no words on a flag" argument, which I am more sympathetic to, doesn't hold up too well because too often you find yourself going "unless it is good" which just isn't a rule. The Iranian flag is the stand-out he mentions:

The middle crest is a stylized rendition of the name Allah, and the cursive lining on the tricolor bands are text as well - God Is Great, 22 times, marking the anniversary date of the Islamic Revolution. Stylistically beautiful, also words on a flag. The state flags just didn't try to do anything artistic.

I think the best point Premodernism mentions is a sort of stylistic unity Kaye & Co are pursuing above all else - everything sacrificed for corporate minimalism. Kaye's book will say it respects history and symbols should be meaningful, but then hates any symbols that require complexity. He singles out Turkmenistan as an ugly flag for example:

And as I said I only 50% disagree sometimes, I do think there is a complexity limit, and this flag goes over it, that is too detailed. Though the main reason this flag is bad is the weird choice to not put the banner at the edge, and have the crescent just...float off center? If it was this:

Two seconds in paint, already better, you can play with it. But anyway, you can say the symbols are too complex, but if you also say you care about historical meaning? Turkmenistan is a nation of traditional semi-nomadic tribes, who populated the Silk Road and made textiles as their ultimate expression of art. These carpet guls are traditional symbols used in those carpets that represent the five major tribes that compose the country. You can't just invent new symbols that have equal meaning to these, right? Like you can try if you want, sure, new symbols become meaningful all the time. But a rule that says "all art from before 1950 is tossed in the dumpster because it wouldn't pass muster as a Pepsi logo" is a weird rule to adopt if you say you value historical meaning. Turkmenistan does not have to look like France, and it is weird to want every national symbol to be aesthetically coherent to each other. Let 100 flags bloom! It is certainly "distinct at a distance" lol.

Anyway that is enough summarizing of a YouTube video - as I mentioned, he actually likes the state flags, I don't, I do think you have to balance a lot of this with just "general design principles". Never have your name on a flag in Helvetica Bold, amazing I had to write that one down for you. But a lot of these flag-specific rules derived from Kaye's work I often see bandied about are silly, and I was glad to see someone point that out.

#FLAG DISCOURSE LETS GO #Youtube

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enhaheeseung · 8 months ago

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BREAK UP - L. HEESEUNG

Pairing: heeseung X fem reader

Warnings: crying, break up, angst, cursing, heartbreak, arguments.

Word count: 2,072k

Note: I'm just writing a few drabbles for now, hoping to get my engagement up a bit. This is really rushed, so it’s not good, but oh well.

Part 2 Part 3

“Babe, when are you coming to bed?”

It’s twelve am, and you have been waiting hours past your bedtime so you can finally go to sleep with your boyfriend for the first time in literal months.

It’s been a while since he started working from home, and you thought that would free up some space for you both to spend time together.

You thought you guys could go back to normal like how you used to be but now it seemed like he worked even more after being able to work from home on top of his promotion.

You received no answer, and you sighed. This had been going on for months, him ignoring you and solely focusing on work. You disappointedly slipped under the covers so you could patiently wait for him to be finished.

Staring at the clock, you counted down every minute until a full thirty minutes passed.

You decided to give it another go thinking half hour may have been enough time for him to conclude his work. “Honey, it’s so late,” your voice is groggy, eyes half opened, and you’re still worried about your boyfriend’s well-being. How could you not be when he barely ate and barely slept anymore? The last time you two spent quality time together was so long ago you couldn’t even remember. “Please come to bed. I know you’re tired.”

He snaps at your words, only increasing the annoyance that he currently feels. “Can you just stop talking, damn?!” He agitatedly shouts out of nowhere, turning his head in your direction with an angry expression plastered on his tired features.

Startled by the sudden loudness of his tone you jumped a little bit not used to him speaking to you that way. “S-sorry I was just worried” you tucked back under the covers your heart aching in your chest cause of what he said to you.

He was always on edge lately, but you never received that type of treatment from him. Ever even in your five years of dating, he has always been respectful to you.

“You’re sorry?” he scoffs. “You should be sorry I’m the one working hard every day to provide for you and all the frivolous bullshit you buy, and this is the thanks I get. Do me a favor and stop fucking bothering me while I’m working,” he rubs his temples, turning his attention back to his computer.

It most certainly wasn’t the first time he’d said such harsh words to you after your constant nagging for him to eat and sleep more, but this was the first time you felt pure anger from him, and it worried you cause he was never this bad before and you feared that as time went on like this it would just get worse.

“O-okay.” You looked at his stressed back, noticing how tense his shoulders were, and you felt bad knowing he was taking on all of the work to provide for you both. Apparently, all you were doing was bothering him, but you weren’t doing it intentionally. “I guess it’s a crime to care about my boyfriend.” Your voice broke a little, and you turned your back to him, calling it quits for the night. He could come to bed whenever he wanted.

“You know what?” He shuts the computer and sighs. “I think.” he pauses for a moment, the silence getting the best of your nerves cause you were scared about what he was going to say. “We should just break up.”

His words dangle in the air for minutes, and within those minutes, you feel tears pricking your eyes and your heart breaking into little tiny bits. “Hee-“ you sat up now, looking at him with your bloodshot eyes.

“I know you’re going to run down every reason why we shouldn’t, but I’m done. I’m tired of this, and I’m tired of talking. I can’t do it anymore, and nothing you say can ever change my mind.”

You’re left absolutely speechless too stunned to even say anything not to say he would want to hear it or listen now anyway.

You’ve spent so many long years of your life with him that you couldn’t see yourself being with anyone else besides him you thought that he was your happy ever after and to hear him say he wants to break up felt like a dream a very bad dream never in your life did you ever think he’d say the words but he did and it came out so easily like he’s been wanting to say it but only now decided to.

And the thought made you upset because if he’s been feeling this way for this long why did he even bother to string you along knowing he didn’t see a future with you anymore after your guys relationship went downhill?

In the midst of your thoughts his voice brings you back to the present. “I’ll call your mom in the morning so you can get all your stuff and be out by tomorrow.” You don’t respond, and the only thing you hear for the next few hours is typing on a keyboard.

You would go to the sofa, but you’re literally glued to the bed, paralyzed by grief.

The tears wouldn’t stop flowing, and they definitely didn’t stop once he came to bed. If anything, they got worse when you felt his warmth so close to you but yet so far away.

He tried slipping his hand around your waist, but you slapped it away. “Don’t touch me,” you say through your heartbroken cries.

He immediately retracted his hand, a little surprised at first by how quickly you rejected his touch.

He didn’t care really he just thought it might comfort you a little so you could sleep since you’ve been up crying for literally hours but it didn’t matter one way or the other to him as he turned on his side and shut his lamp off.

Heeseung slept soundly while you lay awake, crying every last tear you had left in you.

When morning struck, heeseungs alarm woke him up. His eyes shot open, and he quickly grabbed his phone, turning the awful sound off.

He turned towards your side of the bed and patted the soft material in search of your warmth, but he found none.

His eyes opened, and he was met with a few luggage bags that looked to be packed already. He sat up confused for a moment until memories of last night flooded his mind.

He heard a rustle coming from the closet, and you appeared a second later, already fully dressed this early in the morning. Usually, you would still be asleep when he started work.

But obviously, today was different.

His eyes shifted throughout the room. Most of your stuff was already gone.

As you walked to each end of the room collecting your stuff, his eyes followed you, watching your every movement.

The moment he saw you grabbing all your ornaments, he felt an ache in his chest.

You didn’t have much in the bedroom, but those little ornaments had you written all over them, and it was one of the few things that made it obvious to him that he wasn’t living alone, and seeing them all getting wiped out made him feel sick to his stomach. “Y/n?” He mumbled out while nervously picking at his nails.

You didn’t answer. Of course, you didn’t. He said he was done talking, and so were you. Last night, you came to terms with this. It took hours, but you just accepted it.

You had to.

Were you going to miss him?

Yes.

Was it going to hurt?

Yes.

But you didn’t want to be in his life if he didn’t want you to be in his.

You continued to pick up the little porcelain cat decorations, and that’s when he decided to slip out from under the covers and walk over to you, standing behind you and taking the figurine from your hand, setting it back down where it had been sitting for the last couple of years. “I’m sorry,” he whispered in your ear while back hugging you, the warmth of his bare chest sending electricity throughout your body. “About last night, sweetheart, I was just tired and said a lot of things I didn’t mean, and I know that it sounds like a shitty excuse, but I really didn’t mean it, baby. I’ve just been so stressed lately, and I hate myself for taking it out on you. I’m so sorry I made you cry.” he closed his eyes, inhaling your scent, the one he’d been missing for months.

You hated yourself for the way you melted into his arms after all the things he said to you last night, but it’s just been so long since you felt his touch on you that you couldn’t help it.

You leaned into him, his body pressing flush against yours. It felt so good being in his strong arms again.

But as fast as you melted, you hardened up even quicker, slipping out of his grasp.

You started packing up your things again, keeping a good distance from him because right now you know you could easily forgive him, but you didn’t want to because there’s no way he could say what he said to you last night and change up so quickly in the morning you weren’t falling for it.

When you walked by him, he quickly extended his hand, grabbing you by your elbow, pulling you into his chest, and hugging you closely. “Little one, please forgive me.” he rested his chin atop your head, stroking your back softly. “I need you. Love, without you, I don’t have anything, you know that. Remember, I’ve told you so many times everything I do is all for you. I know I made a mistake, but I’m sorry. Please forgive me, please?” His voice shook slightly, and you could feel just how fast his heart was beating against your chest and the words were on the tip of your tongue, but for the way you feel right now, you think breaking up would just be for the best.

You two were living different lives, and the compatibility wasn’t aligned anymore. As much as you hated living a life without him, the thought of living a life where he was working and you were being neglected was something you hated even more.

Your breath got caught in your throat the moment his lips pressed against your neck. “Please,” he begged in between each soft kiss he left on your neck. “Say something, please,” he sniffles softly and rests his palms over your stomach.

You peeled his hand off your body, turning around to tell him that you were done straight to his face, but it was so hard cause he looked absolutely distraught. “Heeseung, I’m leaving, and that’s final.”

The sob he let out almost made you break down in tears yourself. He tried to cover it by cupping his mouth, but it was too late. It was one of the most heartbreaking things you’ve ever heard from him, and you had to leave now before you ended up forgiving him.

You quickly grabbed your things, wheeling them to the front door with him close behind you. “I can’t let you go, y/n. I-I love you.” his arms were secured around you again, and you stood there, trying to remain as emotionless as possible until he finally let go of you. “So that’s just it? What am I supposed to do without you, baby?” He asked warm tears running down his cheeks he looked so sad and vulnerable.

“You said you were tired of talking, and at this point, so am I. Goodbye, heeseung. I hope work treats you better than I ever could.” You unlocked the front door and opened it.

“Y/n-“

“Enough!” You shouted at him, losing your patience finally and letting all your months of pent-up anger get the best of you.

He stood there completely stunned by you raising your voice at him, and it left him speechless.

Even though his mouth was parted like he wanted to say something, the words just never made their way out.

The last thing you saw before slamming the door was his sad, tearful expression, but this was what he asked for, and he got it.

Thanks for reading likes comments and reblogs are always appreciated sorry for any typos or errors I hope you all have a good day/night♥️

#enhypen heeseung #enhypen #heeseung #lee heeseung #enha heeseung #engene #heeseung smut #enhypen smut #enhypen hard hours #enhypen heeseung smut

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starringp1 · 6 months ago

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Office hours

Synopsis: Working hard for an upcoming promotion, the last thing you need is your boss glued to your back for no apparent reason. Stubborn as you are, you're set on finding out why. So when you do, you realize he isn't the last thing, but everything you need.

Pairing: CEO!Yunho x office worker!afab reader (ft. Hongjoong) Wordcount: 10.7k | 5k plot - 6k smut

Content: 18+ mdni; big dick yunho, somewhat cheating?? but not rlly, choking, dom!Yunho, degrading, face fucking, fingering, oral both!receiving, unprotected sex (stay safe irl!!), liiiittle bit of pegging, a tiny bit of voyeurism?, spit play

The soft sounds of rain droplets run against your window, thunder and lightning about to make their way to you. Next to the tapping of the rain, the only noise audible is the clicking of your keyboard, as you sit in your office wrapping up the last pieces of paperwork.

Someone gently knocks on your door and when you tell them to come in, Jeong Yunho enters, politely greeting you. "Miss, I think it's time for you to go home. Take a rest." you quickly stand up and bow your head, holding back the surprised look on your face. It's not often that your boss comes your way, let alone to your office. "What brings you here Mr. Jeong?" you offer him a seat in one of the chairs in front of your desk before pushing close the laptop you have been working on.

"I saw light in your office and was wondering why you're still working, at this time of day, or I should probably say, night." he takes a performative look at the watch on his wrist.

"Well, there's some documents I'd like to finish today, to lighten my workload. I want to clear my schedule as much as possible for the upcoming project. As you know, I need to perform well." you give Mr. Jeong a polite smile, before opening your laptop again after realizing he has no pressing matters to be discussed. "Also, it just started raining, so I'd rather use my time wisely, instead of getting soaked trying to get home. My car is in maintenance."

Your superior doesn't seem delighted at your response and leans back in his chair. He watches you type on your computer for a while before speaking up again. "You know you can always ask for one of the secretaries to help, right?" his hand reaches up and tugs on his tie to loosen it slightly. Your eyes flicker up to him for a second before concentrating on the screen again. "Yeah sure," you scoff, "because someone in my position needs help? I know HR and most importantly you are watching me, Sir."

You finally stop typing and look up into Mr. Jeongs eyes. "I won't be throwing this chance away, just because I'm a little worn out."

A loud rumbling of thunder suddenly arises and the loud banging makes you flinch. Mr. Jeong chuckles lightly before opening the top button of his shirt, eyes never leaving yours. "I think you're too paranoid, which is not a good quality in a leading position." he winks at you. You clench your jaw, realizing he'd be able to turn anything you say to his favor.

"I'm not trying to sabotage you, neither do I think you're lazy. I sincerely wish for you to go home because it's late." a soft smile flashes across his face. "A couple of investors are coming in on short notice tomorrow and I haven't told any of the candidates yet, because I'm planning to call in an emergency meeting." Mr. Jeong immediately catches the confusion in your face and before you can even ask, he answers your question.

"I'm only letting you in on this, because you are so adamant on working at this ungodly hour. So do me a favor and tell no one of this." he puts his finger up to his lips as if to shush you, though you already know it isn't a request, but a command. You nod slowly, packing up your things with a sigh.

Strangely enough, Mr. Jeong waits for you and the two of you leave your office together. A soft jingle is playing when the doors of the elevator open and the two of you enter. Your hand reaches out to press the button for the lobby, but Mr. Jeong grabs your wrist and instead presses the button for the underground parking lot.

"I'm driving you home."

You open your mouth to somehow decline his offer, but he shuts you down immediately. "I insist, Ms. y/s."

a/n; y/s meaning your surname or last name

You're feeling tired and you don't have it in you to fight back today, so you decide to just go along with it. Yet you can't help but be provocative. "Sir, I don't mean to be rude nor am I interpreting this the wrong way, but are you sure this is okay for your wife?" Mr. Jeong stops in his tracks and looks at you amused. He gives you a light smile just for it to turn into a stern, almost threatening look. "What my wife deems to be okay or not, is none of your business, Ms. y/s. I suggest you be thankful of my generosity, driving you home." he almost seems a little on edge, so you're sure you've hit a sensitive spot. Needless to say, you regret asking in the first place.

You mumble out a quick apology, before entering his car, Mr. Jeong holding open the door for you. It's a little awkward when he settles in place next to you and you try to avoid his gaze. "Give me your adress." his deep voice makes you shift in your seat and you hope for the ride to end as quickly as possible, when the car has just left the parking lot. Arms crossed, you're crouched in your seat and watch the raindrops on your window rolling down.

Mr. Jeong seems to misread your body language and increases the heater. For a while you withstand the thick air, but soon you find it unbearable, due to the windows being closed because of the now heavy rain. You take off your jacket and fan air with your hand, all the while Mr. Jeong doesn't seem affected at all. "Sir, how long is the ride?"

"We'll be there soon, don't worry." you almost feel like you can sense a sly smile on his lips, but you don't want to stare at him too obviously. Is he doing this on purpose? Too embarrassed to ask if he can turn off the heater, you can't seem to get behind it, so you try not to think about it any further and keep your eyes plastered onto the dark street in front of you.

When the car finally comes to a stop, you're sure your face is all flushed from the heat, blouse sticking to your back from the sweat. Even Mr. Jeong seems to be hot now, his breathing a little heavier, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Why wouldn't he just turn on the AC? You can't help but let your gaze linger a little on his upper body, veins flowing down his arms to the hands, that were gripping the steering wheel up until now.

Quickly you advert your eyes, undoing your seatbelt. Suddenly Mr. Jeong undoes his too, your brows furrowing in confusion. "Relax, I'm just bringing you to your front door, since you don't have an umbrella." He leaves the car, draping his jacket over his head. When he opens your door, he leans down to cover you from the rainfall. "Nothing my wife should be upset about." he adds, earning an embarrassed look from you.

You close the car door and Mr. Jeong holds his jacket above his head, urging you to slip beside him. You hesitantly press up against him while the two of you slowly walk over to your apartment complex. His arm sneaks around your shoulder, holding you close while shielding you from the rain. You can feel the heat radiating from him and you're sure your body feels just as hot to him.

When you reach the front door, which luckily has a small roof, he lowers his jacket and scans your body. "You're so wet." and for a split second, your heartbeat increases, before realizing he was talking about your legs, that hadn't been covered from the rain. Though for some reason, you feel like his choice of words was intentional.

"It's okay, I'm home now, aren't I?" you give him a wry smile before fishing for the key in your bag. "Thank you Mr. Jeong, I appreciate it. I hope it wasn't too big of an inconvenience."

"Not at all miss, anything to have you home safe and sound." he reaches out his hand to see you off with a handshake. Hesitantly you grab it, as you would usually bow and not say goodbye western style. His big hand wraps around yours, long fingers enveloping almost all of it. "See you tomorrow Ms. y/s. Rest well ." his thumb caresses your skin a few times before finally letting go, an undoubtedly ominous smile on his lips.

You hurry inside when he leaves, leaning against the door of your apartment.

What the hell was that?

When you wake up the next day and get ready for work, you can`t help but wonder about last night. In the beginning you had been sure Mr. Jeong just wanted to be nice and maybe somewhat make a picture of his own, of one of the candidates for the recently vacant position of chief operating officer.

The company was running on the efforts of young people, but for someone as young as you to work their way up the ranks this quickly, was still an astounding accomplishment. You knew this and so did everyone else. It had gained you a newfound respect, as well as some enemies, though mainly older collegues who were envious of you. Since Mr. Jeong hadn't been the CEO for long (the chairman had stepped down from the position of chief executive officer) he naturally wasn't too informed about the strengths of the higher ranking employees.

It was in fact his spot that opened up, as he got promoted from COO to CEO. You feel uneasy, not knowing his intentions after last night. Was it just some kind of manipulation tactic to see if you are fit for the position? Or was he acually hitting on you? You try to convince yourself you're just reading into it, but you know all too well even a marriage won't keep a man from cheating.

And now that you think about it, you realize you barely see Mr. Jeong without a female coworker next to him. All this, while wearing a ring on his finger.

A few hours later, you find yourself looking at exactly this ring, as Mr. Jeong has called in the emergency meeting, just like he said he would. Somewhat you are a little prepared thanks to him telling you in advance, but it also pressures you to perform even better, as if he is expecting it from you.

"Ms. y/s, I would like to have a word with you." Mr. Jeong calls out to you after the meeting ends. He doesn't even look up from the sheets scattered on the table, voice sounding almost concerned. When the conference room has cleared, the two of you sit in silence for a while, until you speak up. "Sir, what did you want to talk about?"

Finally his eyes meet yours and he looks.. disappointed. "As you probably have noticed, I told everyone in advance of this 'emergency meeting'. I wanted to see how each one of you would prepare themselves."

You definitely had noticed. The meeting went by too fast and smooth, for it to be truly a surprise for all the participants present. 'So it was a ruse all along' you think to yourself feeling relieved. He was indeed just trying to get you out of concept, not hitting on you.

"You didn't satisfy me today." and maybe speaking ambiguously was just his thing...

"I expected you to make good use of my briefing, but you didn't. Why didn't you prepare your materials properly?"

"I felt like it would've been weird if I seemed too well prepared in comparison to my colleagues. Also I deemed it unfair to those who didn't know about the meeting." you admit, hands fumbling with the hem of your blouse beneath the table. "Well Ms. y/s, the world just isn't fair." Mr. Jeong sighs and leans back in his chair. "Look. I still think you are a suitable candidate and I'm giving you the benefit of the doubt, because I know very well what it's like to be working with all of these geezers."

A smile forms on your lips as he starts speaking so informal. Jeong Yunho is only a couple years older than you, of course having the advantage of being the chairmans son, nonetheless. "So please promise me to be a little more selfish? I think being fair is an important quality, but wit also is." you nod along, feeling almost ashamed.

"Mr. Jeong can I ask you something?" fiddling with your hands, you try to hold his gaze. "Are you only looking out for me because we almost share the same age, or is there another reason..?"

"What other reason would there be?" his voice sounds surprised and it has your cheeks heat up from the embarassment. "None.. please ignore what I just said."

He gives you an indifferent look before finally letting you go. "I suppose you'll be working late again today, Ms. y/s?"

"Yes sir, is there anything you need?"

"Nothing in particular, I'll just be dropping off some spreadsheets at your office." he gives you a last polite smile before his eyes are fixated on the papers in front of him. You leave the conference room, quickly making your way to your office.

Why would he need to drop off spreadsheets by himself when a mere assistant could do the same? You groan and fall into your chair, massaging your temples. Jeong Yunhos weird behavior is getting to you and you're sure it's part of his scheme. It doesn't help that he is (per your judging) the most attractive man in this company which oh so happens to partly belong to him? This whole situation feels like bullshit.

You just want the scouting part to be done and over with and the new chief operating officer to be announced, so you don't need to deal with this anymore.

'Hold out y/n, think of your future.' you affirm yourself, tapping back into work.

When it's dark outside, a knock on your door brings you to pry your eyes away from your laptop. You expect it to be your boss, but instead Kim Hongjoong enters, a colleague you grew rather close with over the past few years.

"Hongjoong? What do you need?" surprised to see him, you take a little break. "Why do you always suppose I need something?" he pouts a little, letting himself fall onto your office chair. "I was working until now and haven't had dinner yet. You wanna clock out and grab something to eat?"

Just as the words leave his lips, you can feel your stomach rumbling. Today was not a good day. The exhaustion is creeping up your body and for once, you really want to get out of your office and stop working. With a nod, you save all drafts on your laptop and get ready to leave.

"What do you wanna eat?" you ask your friend, opening the door for him. But Hongjoong doesn't reply and just stands still with a startled look on his face. Mr. Jeong stands right in front of your door, hand balled to a fist - he was about to knock when you opened up.

"Mr. Kim. What are you doing in Ms. y/s' office at this hour?" Mr. Jeong sounds a little taken aback but you can't pinpoint why. Hongjoong quickly bows before replying. "Good evening Sir. We were just about to leave the office together."

Jeong Yunhos gaze turns towards you and he looks disappointed. "I thought I told you earlier I was dropping by."

"I-it's late already, I thought you weren't coming anymore." you stammer, trying to find an excuse. In all honesty you were hoping not to see him anymore after todays dilemma. "Hongjo- I mean Mr. Kim, I'll be with you in a second." you say, gesturing him to wait outside.

"You don't need to wait up Mr. Kim. I'll need Ms. y/s to tend to these documents," he wavers the papers in his hands in the air, "It'll take a while for sure."

And with those words, Mr. Jeong closes the door in front of your friends face, not even waiting for a reply.

You just stand there dumbfounded. What just happened? "Sir, we were actually about to have dinner..." you mumble, "it's really late, can't I look over the papers tomorrow?"

He ponders for a moment, before leaning against the door with crossed arms. "If you're too tired to be working on these, then you shouldn't be going out to eat with a coworker." his tone is sharp and his eyes are squinting at you.

"W-well I can't really sleep on an empty stomach." you give him an apologetic look.

He closes his eyes slowly and sighs quietly. "Excuse me, I'm not sure what has gotten into me. Of course you need to rest. These can wait." he places the sheets on your desk. "Guess that means we'll be spending more time together tomorrow." a light smile spreads across his face. You keep getting this suspicious feeling in the back of your mind and you're really hoping you're wrong, but you feel like Mr. Jeong is... jealous.

"What do you want to eat?"

Surprisedly you raise your eyebrows in surprise at his question. "You said you're hungry. So I'll take you out for dinner. I'm sure Mr. Kim is already long gone."

You have to hold back a scoff at Mr. Jeongs statement. You are very sure Mr. Kim hasn't gotten that far and is probably still in this very building. But you get the feeling you shouldn't be disagreeing with your superior right now, so there's nothing you can do except for giving into him.

"I don't really care, you can choose the restaurant, sir." you reply, wondering how your dinner plans with Hongjoong suddenly turned into dinner plans with your boss, Jeong Yunho.

Somehow, this becomes an almost daily occurence. Mr. Jeong comes by your office unannounced in the evenings to 'discuss work matters', or finds ways to have you come to his instead, like entrusting you with delivering important papers to a colleague "because a simple assistant could mess things up" or "because you should look into the documents as well". When it gets too late, he ends office hours with you and insists on driving you home just like the first time, eventhough you have your car back.

Soon you can't deny the fact you're starting to grow fond of him. He's very charming, knows how to make you laugh and when he smiles at you it gives you this fuzzy feeling in the pit of your stomach, which you try to ignore. Most importantly; you find working with him most pleasant. Mr. Jeong is smart and hardworking, it makes sense to you that he was given the opportunity to lead the company at such a young age, even when related to the chairman.

Older colleagues had been in favor of the position, but still didn't make it.

Slowly but surely, having him this close to you is making you go insane. Your intuition tells you he's being way too nice for a superior, or any other colleague at that. Maybe it's just wishful thinking, but you're not ready to admit it yet. Buying you coffee, leaving work together and one time him inviting you out for lunch (which you declined) have the rumours rolling, which isn't great at a crucial time like this. But your biggest concern is the way you can feel yourself catching feelings for him. A married man, who is also your superior.

After almost three weeks of this, you finally snap.

Mr. Jeong had just ordered you to come to his office again, pray tell what reason he'd find today. You take a deep breath, collecting your thoughts.

This was driving you crazy and you couldn't go on like this.

Before entering, you try to calm yourself, as your job could be on the line for this. You knock, waiting for his approval. When you enter the room, a godly picture unfolds before you.

Mr. Jeong has rolled up his sleeves and unbuttoned the top three buttons, leaving little to imagine. His cologne lingers in the air, almost as if sprayed on a few minutes ago. His hair is dissheveled, cheeks having a rosy taint to them. He's so focused on his papers he doesn't even bother to greet, nor look up at you.

Your breath catches in your throat for a second, but you keep your resilience. "I can't seem to figure out this problem.." he mumbles, inviting you via hand gesture to sit, eyes still locked with the documents. You sit down in front of him as he turns around the papers. For a few seconds you scan it with your eyes, looking for the issue. As fast as you realize the numbers for a recent project aren't adding up, you also realize the problem doesn't even lie in your department. He should have called someone else to his office, but instead he summoned you here. There was no way he wasn't playing you right now.

"Mr. Jeong please be honest with me. Are you testing me right now? Is it because of my age? To see if i would sleep with my handsome boss to get a promotion?" you blurt out, no longer willing to have him play tricks on you.

"You think I'm handsome?" he retorts, lips wearing a gentle smile.

You immediately feel your face heat up, being at a loss of words for a hot minute. "No! that's not what I... sir, you know exactly what I'm talking about."

"No, I don't think I know. Would you care to enlighten me, Ms. y/s?", his tone has some playfulness to it, almost as if he's enjoying seeing you flustered.

"You call me to your office to solve a problem, which I will barely be any help for. I was neither the project manager nor did I even take part in this one. It's a way different compartment, so why would you involve me out of all people?" your brows seem to be furrowed in anger, but in reality it's your anxiety.

Rudely confronting your superior like this wasn't your greatest idea. But now that you had started, you couldn't just back off like a scared dog. "I think you're reading into this. As potential future chief operating officer you will be faced with things like these all the time. Even if they don't fall under your specialized compartment." Mr. Jeong doesn't seem offended by you stepping out of line and you wonder why.

"Of course I know this, but usually I'd be taking the issue on with the people involved, who were actually working on the project. So where is the project leader? Why are we alone?" You cross your arms in front of your chest. "Why have we been alone so many times for the past few weeks?"

"I commend you for being so insistent, but I get the feeling you're just seeing what you want to see. I've been so good to you, giving insights on tasks and a routine. After all I was favoring you as a candidate. Is this the thanks I get for taking you under my wing?" he replies nonchalantly and you can't help but still be sure he's favoring you in more ways than just work.

Just seeing what you wanted to see? Bullshit, but you can't exactly call your superior a liar. There's nothing else left to say as he keeps denying your allegations, and you feel like you've crossed the line way too far already, so you give up on it.

"I'm guessing it's safe to say I am not in your favor anymore, seeing as you used the word 'was'." lips pressed shut tightly as you try to hold back the heavy feeling in your chest. You really messed up here. "I apologize for my rudeness sir. I'll make sure I won't behave improperly again." you stand up and bow deep, about to take your leave.

Somehow you wonder if maybe you were indeed delusional. The way Mr. Jeong is denying everything you accused him of, hurts. A lot. You had been so sure over the time being, that he was acting differently towards you than other colleagues. And now that you had caught feelings, you needed to confront him. For the sake of your mental well being, as well as the sake of your future at this company.

Mr. Jeong watches you quietly, almost as if he's not sure what to say after your sudden change of heart. Just before stepping out of the room, you turn your head back, looking him directly in the eyes. "Just so you know sir, I still stand by what I said earlier. Now that I'm out of the picture for the position I would like to ask you to stop coming to my office late at night." you bite your bottom lip, hesitant to say the following words.

"It's... giving me the wrong idea."

The stern look on his face turns into a softer one, almost apologetic. "Y/n."

You halt your movements as he suddenly calls you out by your first name. "Did I go to far?" he stands up, hands leaning on his desk. "Please forgive me."

You still stand in the doorway, now completely baffled by the unexpected turn of events. Slowly you step back into the room, closing the door. "You weren't wrong." Mr. Jeong says, inviting you to sit on his office couch. "I didn't want to admit it right away, because I wanted to be sure you want this as well." he explains, but you don't care for that part anymore.

He's had you on his radar weeks before you were even in question as a possible candidate, but there was never reason to summon you. When he decided to join the recruitment committee himself, he knew he had to take the chance, but he wasn't planning on telling you that.

Your mind is racing with thoughts as you try to figure out what to say. He walks over to you, sitting down carefully, your legs almost touching.

"Don't you think I noticed the way you kept looking at me every time we encountered? And especially now?" He refers to his unbuttoned shirt which your eyes keep flickering to. "T-that's because it's all out in the open!" hand automatically reaching up to shield your view from his defined torso, you whine while blushing,

He doesn't reply and instead grabs your wrist, guiding your hand to his chest onto the exposed skin. His warm skin meets your fingers and you suck in a string of air at the contact. "Mr Jeong.." you warn him "I have a job to lose and you a wife." but his grip doesn't let up.

This wasn't exactly what you had in mind when you confronted him. All you wanted to hear was a clear explanation and that you weren't making things up.

"Not if it's within my company." he retorts back with furrowed brows.

"Do you know I consider this psychological warfare? Competing for a promotion but also being at odds to be eliminated any second because my boss who is married is hitting on me?" he finally lets go of your wrist and you pull back your hand.

Scoffing, he's leaning his arm onto the couchs' backrest. "Then care to explain to me why you're dressed like you want me to take off all your clothes each time you come in here? Your skirts get shorter every time I see you." he lets his eyes wander over your body, but doesn't come any closer. "You don't consider that psychological warfare?"

You know you started putting more effort into your outfits and make up, but you hate to admit that it was all for him. Wearing skirts almost everyday, when before you used to wear pants all year long.

"Are you sure you'll be able to walk away from me right now?" he sounds like he's challenging you and you would love to prove him wrong, but you can't.

You stay seated as you're torn on what to do. The rational answer would be to leave his office immediately and try talking to him tomorrow, preferably in an open space. Your mind tells you to stand up, but your body doesn't comply.

The smell of his cologne mixed with his body odor, the flushed cheeks, everything about him makes you want to stay. "I don't know what to do." you confess, hands trembling in your lap.

"But I do."

He leans forward, hand cupping your cheek and his soft lips gently kiss yours. Your eyes flutter shut and all the restraint you had left flies out the window. When he pulls back just a little to look at you, his cheeks are even rosier than before.

He looks like a dream.

"I won't touch you any further if you don't tell me to." he whispers, his hot breath fanning against your face.

"You already did, Yunho." this time you speak with confidence, knowing there's no going back anyway. "So do it again." Your hand holds onto his thigh as you move upwards to embrace his lips in another kiss. His hand flies to your hip and his chest immediately presses up against yours as he pushes you back to lay down on the couch. "I have.. been waiting.. for so long..." he manages to say in between kisses, before grabbing your hair and gently tugging, to suck on the skin on your neck. "Say my name again."

You quietly moan out, arms propped up behind you on their elbows. "Y-yunho..." The hand that was on your hip moves to slip under your shirt, pushing the bra underneath up your boobs. His fingers cup your breast and he slightly pinches your nipple, making you arch your back into his touch. You let yourself fall onto your back to unbutton your blouse, giving him free access.

Yunho takes in the sight of you sprawled out beneath him, dick growing harder by the second. "So fucking pretty..." his hair falls into his eyes and you wipe them away only to reach behind his neck and pull him back in for another kiss. He kisses you sloppily, tongue deep in your throat.

You can't remember the last time anyone has made you feel this good and Yunho was just getting started.

When he pulls back for air, a string of saliva still connects your lips, you quickly unclasp your bra and throw it to the ground along with your blouse. You look stunning to him and it's taking everything in Yunhos might to take his time with you instead of just pulling his cock out and fucking you stupid.

His long fingers graze the marks he has just left on your neck, before plunging two of them into your mouth. A soft whimper escapes your lips as your tongue swirls around his digits, sucking on them eagerly. Wishing he could take a picture and frame it in his office, Yunho groans at the sight.

His unoccupied hand pushes up your skirt to reveal some laced panties and he gives you a little slap onto your clothed throbbing cunt, which makes you moan out loudly around his fingers.

"Are my fingers not enough to keep you quiet? Maybe I need to stuff your mouth with my cock instead." your moaning earns yourself another slap before he pulls his fingers out of your mouth, circling them around your left nipple.

You watch as he hovers over you, kneeling inbetween your legs. His fingers leave your nipple and without warning he pushes your panties to the side to slide them into your heat. Your saliva as well as your wetness make it way too easy and your lips part to choke out a moan. Yunho grabs your jaw and brings himself close, but instead of kissing you like you anticipated, he spits into your open mouth.

You clench around his fingers in surprise then swallowing all of it, the rest that landed on your bottom lip distributing onto your chin with the help of his thumb. Never in your life did you think you could be so at mercy for a man, but here you are.

Yunho looks like he's about to devour you but your focus is directed at the feeling of his fingers sliding in and out of you, occasionally curling inside.

"More.." you manage to whimper, begging him for more stimulation. His lips turn upwards into a smirk as he adds another finger. You feel something cold enter you and you can tell it's his wedding ring that's pushing you to another level of pleasure.

"Look at my little slut getting off on a married mans fingers.." Yunho coos as he watches your cunt greedily suck in his fingers. Your heavy breathing quiets down as you accomodate to him stretching you out, knowing you need even more.

You bite your still wet bottom lip and look up into his eyes, one hand roaming his body until it stops at his bulge. "I need you inside of me, now."

But Yunho isn't done with you yet.

"What you need, is to have some respect." his fingers come to a complete halt and you whimper at the sudden loss of friction. He pulls them out only to rid you of your skirt and panties, leaving you completely naked on his couch.

Lips come crashing into yours, followed by his hand on your throat, smearing your juices onto you. His hips start rolling into yours, the friction of the fabric against your throbbing clit driving you insane. "I'll fuck you when you deserve to be fucked." he says through gritted teeth, his cock starting to painfully twitch in his tight pants.

Now kneeling over you, he's pulling his shirt over his head. You can't help but stare at his chest in awe, fighting the urge to suck hickeys all over his torso.

Yunho chuckles at your dazed look before grabbing a fistful of your hair to yank your head up, now eye leveling his crotch. "Suck me off and I might consider fucking you." Having no time to waste your hands are pulling down his zipper and freeing his cock from his underwear. You let out a long breath as you finally hold his dick in your hands, so long and girthy you start worrying if you can even fit the head in your mouth.

Precum is leaking from his slit and you hesitantly give the tip kitten licks before pushing it into your mouth. Yunho lets out a soft sigh, relishing in the feeling of your warm cheeks embracing him.

You test the waters by slowly pushing him in further, only to halt abruptly when you start choking on him.

"Who said you could stop?" His hand flies to your head to push you down on his length, tears filling up your eyes as you try to breathe. Your hands grip onto his thighs to steady yourself, not being able to get in more than half of his cock.

Slowly his hips start moving and you have to do nothing but stay still and be his little fuckdoll. His moans grow louder each time he thrusts himself into you, the sound being your new favorite melody. You're sure that by now there must be stains on his couch from the way your wetness keeps pooling in your heat.

One of your hands sneaks down to rub small circles over your clit, which leads you to ellicit a small moan, dick still stuffed deep in your throat. He pulls out of you, only to let his fat cock slap against your cheek.

"I don't remember giving you permission to touch yourself." He frowns before stealing your air supply again, now bucking his hips into your face with even more fervor than before.

You whine out and grab onto the couch. Your jaw is starting to hurt and you know you can't keep this up much longer. You knew he was packing, having stolen glances at his crotch over the past weeks, but you didn't expect him to be this big.

When his hips finally start to stutter, you're already so fucked out, saliva dripping down your chin onto your breasts.

Your eyes are halfway closed as tears roll down your cheeks, Yunho being all you could feel, smell or see.

He comes to a complete halt, shooting his load down your throat, letting out a deep moan. "F-fuck." You feel the bitterness spread in your mouth and quickly swallow down the warm liquid. His eyes are fixed on your beautiful face and the way you're taking everything so well. When he pulls his softening cock out of your mouth, he strokes your hair, gently lowering you onto your back.

"So?" you ask him, hands grazing over his nicely toned muscles.

"So what?" Yunho asks back with a confused smile on his lips.

"Do I deserve getting fucked?"

He's trapping you in between his arms and the couch, eyes never leaving yours.

"You deserve getting ruined." his lips meet yours again, licking off the remains of his own cum. Slowly he's peppering kisses all over your neck, moving down to your chest, slightly grazing one nipple with his teeth. Yunho starts sucking on the hard bud when you let out little whimpers, hands laid on his strong arms, that are still caging you. Excitement rushes through your veins at the mere thought of Yunho touching you again and you almost start trembling from the anticipation.

His tongue swirls around your nipple a few times before leaving your breasts altogether as he moves further down. Face hovering over your pussy, you prop yourself on your elbows to have a better view.

You just need to witness this.

His face gets closer to you until you can feel his hot breath on your core, only turning you on further.

"Such a pretty cunt." he whispers before placing a few gentle kisses on your clit. You inhale a sharp breath of air when he finally buries his face into your pussy, tongue delving deep into your folds.

One of his hands rakes up to grope your breast, roughly massaging it. You close your eyes for a moment and get lost in the feeling of his wet tongue inside of you and his big hand assaulting your tit.

As your moans grow louder, Yunho stops for a minute to mark you up on your inner thigh. "If you keep this up, everyone is going to hear us." he kisses down gently on the now red-ish skin. "But maybe that's what you want? To have Mr. Kim hear how I rearrange your guts?" His eyes dart up to meet yours and there's a mischievous smile plastered on his lips.

You could tell he was hung up on the fact you were close to a male colleague of yours, but you didn't want to think about Mr. Kim now. Not in this situation.

"I'll try to be quiet..." you mumble, blushed cheeks from the suggestion. Quickly you grab his wrist, guiding the hand that was massaging your breast, up to your mouth sucking in his fingers, to cut the conversation short. Yunho just chuckles softly before lapping at your hole again, eyes closed while getting enveloped in the taste of you. His nose bumps into your clit at times and it's getting harder for you to hold back your moans.

It's taking all your might to stay quiet when he plunges the three fingers, that you were lazily sucking on just a moment ago, into you while relentlessly flicking his tongue against your sensitive nub.

His long slender fingers glide right into your heat while stretching you out deliciously. If this is how his fingers feel you can barely contain your greediness for his huge cock.

Head thrown back in pleasure, your hips start bucking into him while your hand is tangled in his hair. Breathy moans leave your lips when the pace of his fingers quickens and the knot in your stomach gets tighter. Yunho is sucking and licking on your clit like his life depends on it and you can feel yourself clench around his fingers. "I-im so close.." you huff out, still rolling your hips into his tongue.

"That's it.. cum on my face, baby." the vibrations and especially the use of the petname sends you over the edge and you come undone, legs squeezing around Yunhos head.

You pant heavily, arm covering your face as you recover from your high. Yunho is lapping up your juices, fingers still moving in and out of you. You whine out, pushing his head away from the overstimulation.

"S-stop I can't-"

He chuckles before finally removing his fingers from your cunt, licking them clean. His lips are glistening from your wetness as he emerges from inbetween your legs and you can't believe this god of a man just ate you out, with all that he had at that.

"God, you taste so sweet."

He sits up, quickly getting rid of his pants, then stroking his now hard again dick. Grabbing the base of his cock, he rubs it against your core, covering his cockhead in your cum. You moan at the stimulation, clit swollen and abused. You can't pry your eyes off the attractive nude body gracing your sight and it leaves him chuckling at the way you're looking up at him with needy eyes, begging to be fucked senseless.

"Are you sure you want this?" Yunho asks you one last time, needing to reassure himself, even when he already knows the answer.

It makes you scoff, furrowing your eyebrows. Like he didn't just have you at his mercy on only his tongue and fingers, eating you out like a starved man. His skin is glistening with sweat from the arousal and heat between you two, only showing off his defined muscles more. The naked man in front of you looks like a deity, almost like he's the god of sex.

You could swear you've never gotten this horny just by looking at someone.

"I need this." you reply while grabbing one of Yunhos hands to intertwine your fingers with his. He smiles warmly at you before pinning down your hand next to your head and slowly pushing his tip into you, tightly holding your hand.

Soft moans leave your lips as you're getting stretched out by his girthy cock, the feeling of his length inside of you bringing you almost to tears, because it just feels that good. Eyebrows furrowed, enveloped in the feeling of him as he bottoms out in you.

Your cum makes it a little too easy for Yunho to slide in and he lets out a deep moan when he's fully sheathed inside of you.

"Shit, your pussy feels so good.." he murmurs and places a wet kiss upon your left temple.

Your eyes flutter open to take in the image of him hovering over you while getting spread on his thick cock. The stretch feels so good it has you loudly moaning even when he hasn't started moving yet. "You're too fucking big." you groan, eyes tightly shut again. He let's you get used to his size for a couple of seconds before starting to move.

"You say 'too big' but look at how your pussy is sucking me in - just fitting for the greedy whore your are." slapping your tit, he watches in contentment as it jiggles.

Quickly he's building up his pace, knocking the breath out of your lungs. Soon Yunho is smashing his hips into yours, hand having let go to properly hold himself up. You let out uncontrollable moans while digging your nails into his forearm, resulting in one of Yunhos hands covering your mouth.

"My dumb little slut.. wants everyone to hear how I'm fucking that tight little pussy so well, hm?" he taunts you, lips curled upwards into a smirk. You clench around him at his words, letting out a muffled moan against his hand. But you can tell he's feeling just as good as well, voice breathy, sometimes letting a moan slip inbetween.

You're feeling so good you don't care anymore wether someone is going to hear you, all you care about is his big dick stuffed in your cunt. When his hand leaves your mouth to roughly grab one of your tits, your head immediately tilts downwards to see how his cock is disappearing in your pussy.

The drag against your walls feels insane and you just feel so full, you're scared you will never be able to have sex with someone else.

"Y-Yunho.." you moan out his name as your climax keeps building, head thrown back in pleasure.

"What is it baby?" you love how Yunho calls you baby and it has you tightening around him, making his hips stutter for a hot second. "Fuck, don't do that again or I'm cumming inside of you." his lips come crashing into you while still rutting his hips into yours at such a fast pace, you almost feel like he's splitting you into two.

Pinching your nipple one last time he sits up to firmly grab your waist and thrust into you. "I'm gonna cum!" you cry out, hips bucking into his, but he immediately stops, the rising feeling in your stomach vanishing.

You can imagine yourself getting addicted to the way he's thrusting into you, because now that he's stopped you feel the urge to cry, as if getting down from your favorite drug.

And it's quite the same. His dick is taking you to levels of pleasure you couldn't even think of before, making you not wanting to waste thoughts about what's going to happen when he's done with you.

And luckily Yunho is far from done with you.

"I decide when you cum." he slips his cock out of you to slap it against your clit before sliding it through your folds. "My greedy little whore." he whispers, while you're trying to restrain yourself from grabbing his dick and just shoving it into yourself.

You feel so pathetic at how he's making you feel so good just by rubbing his lengtg against you, but when he doesn't stop teasing you, it drives you insane. "P-please."

"Please what?" slowly he dips his cockhead into your pussy, fucking you with only an inch of his dick. "Use your words. How else is a dumb slut like you gonna get a promotion?"

You didn't know you had a degrading kink but Yunho sure as hell brought it out in you.

"God you get tighter everytime I insult you." he scoffs with a smile, eyes locked onto his tip inside of you.

"Please fuck me properly.." you whine, hips trying to push yourself further onto his cock. Yunho chuckles at your poor attempts before yanking both of your legs up to gather them over one shoulder, gripping them firmly and unexpectedly thrusting deep into you. He has completely buried himself into you, your mouth agape from the feeling. His lips are softly grazing the skin on your legs, while you're letting out obscene noises. The way he's slowly rolling his hips into yours is making you lose your mind and you wish he'd just fuck you for all eternity.

As he keeps thrusting into you, his huge cock is hitting your bladder and slowly it's getting uncomfortable, because it feels like you need to pee, eventhough you're already aware you don't. Yunho is starting to fold you in half, legs that were draped over his shoulder now pushed into your face as he's using your wet hole like his cocksleeve.

The squelching sounds are making Yunho emmit deep groans, eyes not being able to look away from his pulsing cock drilling into you. One of your arms is holding onto the couchrest behind your head to somewhat find stability and Yunho leans down to sloppily kiss you while folding you like a sandwich.

The angle makes you cum without a warning and you moan out loudly into his mouth to muffle the volume of the forbidden sounds. Your walls are clenching around him hard, wetness seeping onto his cock.

He halts abruptly in his movements, pulling away from you. A short string of spit connects your lips until it plops down onto your chest. Yunho is panting hard and it seems like he just held back from cumming inside of you, much to your disappointment.

"Fuck, I didn't tell you to cum." he pulls out of you, immediately grabbing a fistful of your hair to yank you up and pull you towards his desk. "Is my bitch wanting to be punished?" he asks in a daring tone, eager for what's to come.

His big hand is pressing down your cheek against the cold wood of his desk, bending you over. Heart beating fast, you don't resist and just go along with what he's making you do. Right now you'd do anything he requested of you if it meant getting fucked properly. His other hand lines up his dick with your entrance and with a sharp thrust he pushes his cock past your folds, earning a loud whimper from you. Your voice is too fucked up to be forming proper words, so only pathetic moans and a variable of other noises leave your mouth.

Not even recovered from your high he's fucking you so hard your hips are rutting into the desks edges, sure to leave behind bruise marks. "That's what you get for disobeying me." he groans and you love how he's putting on this dom show, your overstimulated pussy tightening at the thought of him punishing you right now. "How can you still be this fucking tight when I'm stretching you to my size?" Yunho buries his face into your neck, sucking hickeys into the soft skin to distract himself from not hitting his release too early. He was set on making you cum at least a third time.

"D-don't give me so many hickeys.. what if someone sees..?" you manage to whimper out. Fuck, leaving his office later, looking like a mess and pumped full of his cum already has you shivering at the thought. There's no way no one's going to notice, especially when he's leaving kiss marks all over your neck now.

"Then they'll know you belong to me."

You moan as he slows down his thrusts, pulling your asscheeks apart to have even better access to your throbbing hole. A string of saliva drops down onto your ass and you immediately panic when you feel Yunhos thumb press against your back door. "Wait, d-don't!" you cry out as he slips his finger past the ring of muscles, clenching around him hard. He groans, finger slowly moving but hips staying still.

"You're gonna snap my dick in half, relax." thumb still inside, he leans down and turns your head to the side to capture your lips in a kiss. Your hands are gripping some sheets of paper that are scattered beneath you as he starts thrusting into you again, balls slapping against your buttocks.

"F-feels so good Mr. Jeong." mind so hazy that you don't even notice you go back to calling Yunho by his last name. A low chuckle leaves his lips before he suddenly moves around a bit, making you try to turn around and see what he's doing.

"Is that so? Then why don't you tell Mr. Kim about it?" You hear a clicking noise and the next second Yunho places his office phone next to you and turns on the intercom. The unfamiliar feeling of having both holes filled have you pant loudly, barely shutting up in time for the call.

Hongjoong is way too quick to pick up the phone, which leaves you no time to brace yourself. Your eyes widen and you try to get Yunho to stop from fucking you so hard, the very obvious noises probably easily heard through the phone. "Good evening sir. How may I help you?" your colleagues voice politely appears through the receiver, seemingly not yet suspicious of the sounds coming from the other end.

"Go on. Tell him how good my dick inside you feels. Let him hear that dirty little pussy of yours." Yunho whispers into your ear, only for you to hear.

"Hello? Mr. Jeong?" Hongjoong quietly asks into the phone. Finally Yunho pulls out of you, letting you breathe for a second. When you feel his hand grabbing your ass forcefully you know you have to play along. "Hello Mr. Kim, it's me."

"Oh? Ms. y/s? Why are you calling me from Mr. Jeongs office?" he sounds very confused, which makes it harder for you to come up with a believable excuse. Even more so when Yunho suddenly turns you onto your back and forces you to sit up with his hand on your throat. A helpless little yelp leaves your lips and you immediately shut your mouth, hoping your colleague heard nothing.

"..."

"Is everything okay?"

Right now you can only applaud Hongjoong for his polite- and patientness, as you're sure you would've been annoyed as hell by now if you were in his shoes. "Sorry I just dropped something." you manage to say, gears in your head turning on what to tell him next.

"So uhm... I called you.. because... I need help with a document..?" it sounds more like a question the way the words are leaving your mouth and you're sure you don't sound believable at all.

"Okay.. what is it?" no further questions are asked and you just know he'll give you hell later for this awkward phone call.

"I uh-"

Suddenly Yunho plunges his dick back into you and you have to hold yourself upright on his shoulders. Lips tightly shut you shake your head and look at him with pleading eyes to stop. But he doesn't let up.

"I-I think there's a m-mistake in the formatting of one of t-the project files, but I can't seem to f-find it." it's taking all of your strength not to moan or let out any other noise and you feel like Yunho isn't as strong as he's acting either.

His face is buried in the nook of your neck, sucking more marks onto your skin. Sometimes a little whimper slips out, quiet enough for Mr. Kim not to hear. He must be insane, you think to yourself, to be risking getting caught. Maybe he's even into this, maybe he wants to get caught.

Caged in one of Yunhos arms, the other is placed right behind you, holding himself stable while he's jerking his hips into yours, coating his cock in your wetness. "So good for me..." he whispers, sending a tingle up your spine. "I can't believe I haven't fucked you earlier."

"Alright, can you send me the file now? I'll look over it while you're on the phone." Hongjoongs voice snaps you back to reality and your mind is racing, thinking of the next excuse to give. "My computer is broken." is all you can think of.

"Is that why you're in Mr. Jeongs office?"

You feel relieved when Hongjoong thinks even further than you, finding a way to make this lie work. Though it makes no sense in your head, you gladly accept it.

"Yes, she is. But I think it would be more efficient if you just came down to my office Mr. Kim." Yunho cuts right through you when you open your mouth and you look at him in terror. Is he seriously inviting Mr. Kim to come over right now?

"No! I'll come to you! Don't come here!" You almost yell out, slamming the phone onto the charging station. "How am I going to explain this? You're insane." instantly you let out a loud moan, closing your eyes and letting yourself get enveloped in the feeling of pleasure. Your legs are slung around Yunhos waist, slowly starting to hurt from having to hold them up in the air as he's fucking you on the edge of his desk.

"I'm insane for you." Yunhos lips brush your earlobe before slightly nibbling on it, his moans starting to get louder too. You can feel your inner thighs getting coated with your slick everytime he pulls out just to slam back into you, the sheets of paper you're sitting on probably already completely ruined.

Fast and surely you can feel your third orgasm building up, hips starting to rock against his to get some more friction. He captures your lips in a sloppy kiss, his tongue exploring the inside of your mouth. He's so big it almost feels like his cock is hitting the entrance of your cervix, you can swear you see the outline of his bulge in your stomach. "So fucking big.. I can't." you cry out, head thrown back in pleasure.

"Mr. Jeong let me cum, please?" you automatically ask him for permission, leaving him moaning into your ear.

"Only because you've been so good for me." he tilts your chin up to press a surprisingly soft kiss to your lips before picking up his already fast pace, one of his arms locked around your waist. He's hitting just that right spot several times and you have no strength in you to form any coherent words, a string of moans and other obscene noises accompanying the sound of skin slapping against skin.

Your wetness keeps gushing out and is coating his cock in your liquid, having him groan at the feeling. Just the way he's moaning so deliciously into your ear almost has you cumming and you know you won't be holding out for much longer. Arms thrown around his neck you come undone, your orgasm washing over you so intensely, you see your vision go blurry.

It's taking everything and more for Yunho not to spill his load in an instant when he feels you orgasm around him and slows down his movement for a second. "Where do you want me to cum?" he asks breathless, gazing at your face contorted in pleasure, only hurrying him more.

"I-I don't care just fuck me." you cry out, rocking your hips desperately against his. Your words take him over the edge immediately, hips stuttering while he's driving himself into you. Legs sqeezed tightly around his waist you feel the spurts of long thick ropes of cum painting your walls. The joined moans of the both of you sound like they're straight out of porn, neither caring for the volume anymore. Your high lasts so long, you think you might just pass out from this incredible feeling, the waves of pleasure seemingly not coming to an end. And you wish they didn't because oh god was this the best sex you ever had.

In the meanwhile your pussy is milking Yunho completely dry, his cock twitching inside of you before he eventually starts growing soft. He stays sheathed in you, just heavily breathing into your neck with his head laid on your shoulder.

As the both of you come down from each high, reality hits you like post nut clarity and you get this heavy feeling in your chest over what you have just done.

"Mr. Jeong. This was so insanely wrong of us." you murmur quietly, your heartbeat going up again, this time out of fear. It's not exactly what anyone wants to hear after fucking their brains out.

He lifts his head in confusion, looking at you surprisedly. "If you think I'll be favouring you in the selec-"

"No- not that. I don't really care about the work part. At least for now." you frown at him, urging him to get some distance between the two of you. His arm is slung around your waist still and face only a couple inches apart. "I'm talking about your... marriage."

But Yunho doesn't bother letting go of you, the corners of his mouth curling up into a soft smile. "The marriage with my ex-wife that I have been divorced from for over two years?"

The look of disbelief forms on your face as you try to get in your head what he just said.

"What are you talking about? Then what about your wedding ring? You're still wearing it." it makes no sense to you, especially when you saw them at a work gathering weeks prior. Does he think you'd fall for such a pathetic lie?

"That's because we haven't made the divorce public. It was a marriage of convenience and while our families know we aren't together anymore, which we technically never were, no one else does, except for a few higher ups." He finally pulls out of you, watching his own cum slowly flow out of you and keeping your thighs spread.

"C-can you not do this while we're talking?" you blush from his boldness but don't resist his hands that are now wandering up your body.

Blatantly ignoring you, he goes on with the explanation. "It's better if rival corporate businesses don't know our two family firms aren't binded by law anymore." His hand is cupping your breast, thumb softly rubbing your nipple.

"So you're trying to tell me the two of you act like you're still married, but you've been divorced for two years already?"

There's a big chance he's just lying to get out of this situation, but you sincerely hope he's not making all of this up. Yunho seems to notice your suspicion and leans forward to capture your lips in the softest kiss.

"You don't believe me do you?"

He whispers, burying his face in your neck. "I'm not sure if I should." a heavy sigh leaves your lips as your hand reaches up to comb through his hair. "I want to, though."

You can feel him smile into your neck, before lifting his head and pulling you in for yet another kiss. "I'll take you home tonight," he mumbles against you, "to my house I mean. And you'll see there won't be no wife waiting for me."

Warmth fills your body at his words, coming to terms with the fact he might just not be lying at all. Spending the night at Yunhos place wasn't exactly what your to do list included for today, but your heart starts racing regardless, thinking of all the things he could do to you later. "If you say so.." a small giggle escapes you, leaning into his touch more.

"Should I get plan B for you?" Yunho asks out of the blue, while looking down at the mess he made. You're surprised at how considerate he is, not quite expecting him to even care. Though it should be common decency of course. "It's okay, I've got an IUD in." you smile at him softly, pressing a peck onto his cheek, before retracting awkwardly. It feels like you've overstepped the boundaries, boundaries which you yet have to talk about.

"Are we weirdly loving right now?" the atmosphere is somewhat heavy and you try to lighten the mood. Yunho gives you a cheeky grin, hand that was cupping your breast moving back down again. "I don't know about that. But I do love your body." he tries to sneak his finger to your clit but you slap his hand away before he is able to. As the both of your are laughing, your eyes fall onto an object that is standing on Yunhos desk, and something seems off to you. After closer inspection, you fall silent and your eyes widen in horror.

"Mr. Jeong..."

"I think we're past the stage of calling each other by our last names, don't you think?" he chuckles at you, not noticing how distraught you are. When he finally does, his gaze follows yours, soon the shock is written all over his face as well.

Earlier you didn't put the phone correctly onto the charging station.

Which means you never hung up.

A/n; i'm actually so insane for yunho...🥹🥹 this fic sucked the life outta me. can't believe my second fic on this acc is such a lengthy one. hope you enjoyed it!!

#yunho smut #ateez smut #jeong yunho #yunho x reader #ateez x reader #ateez fic #ateez fanfic #ateez

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m1sa-w1sa · 9 months ago

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SAGAU!!!! A headcanon on whatever genshin characters you like to choose, is about they able to access on our desktop computer, and what they do when interacting youtube videos of all kind and music in it including memes on our computer and how they use it on Teyvat. Anyway get yourself a good night and good rest, your the best!

(Okie dokie! Coming right up!^^)

Ancient language?

•Lets say you started getting lazy with genshin, logging in less, not doing commissions yada yada yada

•But the characters got PISSED is someone else taking up their divine time with their grace?! Thats not fair! No other low life should take up their time with the all holly one themselves!!

“Why is your grace not spending time with us?!”

“The person that took them away is definitely guilty of life in the dungeons!”

“Just calm down furina..”

•Then SOMEHOW SOMEWAY they figured out how to get access to other files of yours, if your a artists, your art commission, a writer, stories that you wrote, funny videos you have, homework and even more

•If they looked at your homework they would think it was something not even their little tiny mind could comprehend (dottore is currently studying it)

•If they look at your art they would steal it and hang it up in castles, churches, stores, even trees ANYWHERE needs your glory on it

•If you liked dark humor then I feel like the harbingers would relate to you or if you laugh at people failing at something they would watch it with you 24/7

•if you read fanfics if we are being completely honest and in cannon terms they would think your weird BUT if your thinking in fannon terms they would think its ancient scrolls made by your past servants for you

(DONEOENENEJENE sorry if this is mad :c ty for the sagau requests!!)

#genshin x reader #genshin impact #pearlsrequests #fatui #fatui x reader #furina #furina x reader #lumine #lumine x reader #sagau cult au #sagau #self awareness

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mr2swap · 1 year ago

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Family therapy: A promising future.

-What do you think of “dad”? The first place medal again, aren't you proud of me?- After the flash of the photo I looked at his old and tired face, he barely made a small smile that seemed totally fake, I knew what was hidden behind his smile, only jealousy and bitterness, I was sure what was going through his mind right now:

“That should be me, you stole my youth, my life, my triumphs”

But I think deep down he knew that all of that was a lie, he wouldn't have been able to get to where his body is now if it wasn't for me his father, Before I took his life he was just a teenager slowly approaching failure.

-HEY! Let's take a picture with just the guy for the hall of fame

My Ex-wife Karol and my son Nathan walked away from me and The photographer started taking pictures of my perfect body, When I did a double bicep curl the camera flash focused completely on me, My son Nathan's face of defeat In my old body was just funny. Maybe at one point Nathan could have accomplished all of this on his own, but now he was just a sad, overweight old man.

-Congratulations… “Son”-

Before I was a retired man, I used to be a teacher and had seen hundreds of kids like my son Nathan, he started skipping a few classes, failing most of the tests, going to the infirmary in PE and then getting caught smoking pot with his friends behind school. I knew if I didn't do something drastic, what would be the end of my son Nathan frying French fries at McDonald's and living in a tiny apartment with his teenage sweetheart who is pregnant.

His mom and I were so sick of Nathan we started fighting, and it led to a divorce, the only thing I had left in my life was Nathan and I couldn't let that last one slip through my hands.

Since there was someone who could help me and that was my old boss and friend, Principal Morris, we had done this trick so many times to deal with the Bullies in the school, just swapping their bodies for a week with their victims would make them turn model students.

I called him and I found out my problem with my son, without asking him, he gave me the recipe for his secret elixir, the body swapping potion, it was enough for two people to drink a bit of that potion, and they would immediately be in each other's bodies, and that I did I poured some into my coffee and into Nathan's breakfast juice, he didn't even notice the taste he drank every drop of that juice until he started to feel the effects of the potion.

Just a little dizziness, A little sleep and a blink later Our souls traded places occupying each other's bodies. Nathan was so confused by the identical person in front of him that he ran off to his room like a madman, he didn't even realize his huge belly was bouncing up and down as he ran his little feet around his old room where I sleep now.

Meanwhile, I was left alone in the dining room admiring my new youth In the kitchen mirror, It felt good to be a teenager again Although there was a lot of work to be done, I ran my hands over my soft and weak arms, but I already had everything planned, he had even bought a membership to the gym that was close to Nathan's school.

When everything seemed calmer in Nathan's room, pretending totally that you didn't know what hadn't happened, I spent hours pretending that I was on the computer looking for my information on body switching and things like that so that Nathan wouldn't suspect that I had something. What to do with this

I tried to calm him down by telling him that he wouldn't have to worry about anything in my body, he could sit his ass on the sulfate all day Watching TV or playing his video games and no one would notice that he was really just a 15-year-old, meanwhile I would go to the school and would pretend to do it.

As the years passed I improved Nathan's life, in just one year Nathan's life improved, his grades were perfect, and all the dedication I put into Nathan's diet and gym paid off, Nathan's adolescent muscles reacted very well to protein powder and weight lifting.

I got rid of the good for nothing, my son's friends and started making new friends at the gym my Gym bros, It's great to be young again, making friends is so easy, especially when you look as big and handsome as me.

And while I was living My second life they need, he didn't seem to get used to his new life, he avoided leaving the house as much as possible, and he became grumpy, all he does is clean the house, go to the supermarket and spend all day insulting kids his age while playing online video games, He hates when I walk shirtless around the house demanding my hard horny muscles or when I pose for the pictures I post on my new Instagram, he was so upset that his life has improved so much that he refused to give me his social media passwords, but it's okay there's nothing to make me proud of old Nathan.

Maybe in a couple of years when Nathan learns what it's like to be an adult responsible for getting back into his body In the meantime I'll enjoy myself a little more being a teenager, maybe I'm ready for dating now, I've always wanted to try something new, and I can't stop From looking at all the hot guys in the gym, and they keep staring at me, I don't think Nathan will mind if I fuck a guy or two while I'm in his body.

Sup If you liked this story or any of my other stories you can take a look at my story archive by subscribing to my page on Ko-fi, there are a lot of stories that haven't been published here yet and that are too hot for Tumblr.

#body swap #male body swap #body switch #bodyswap #male transformation

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vikspretty · 7 months ago

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windows of opportunity

in which lance is a disaster romantic and misses every opportunity to ask you out

masterlist

pairing: lance x reader

tags: fem! reader, disaster romantic lance, blue paladin lance, oblivious reader, oblivious lance too, reader isn't a paladin she just, like, helps(?), very very tiny bit of angst, happy ending, fluff, mutual pining, flirty banter, no use of y/n, lance calls reader ‘pretty’ as a nickname, cheeky little taylor swift reference if you squint.

notes: as a huge hopeless romantic, missed opportunities with a happy ending and mutual pining but thinking the other doesn't reciprocate is my obsession. i also know i said the first one would be keith but then i thought of this and it fit lance more i think.

wc: 2.3k

“Rise and shine, work hard, carve out your name, Take aim, pull the trigger, hit the bulls eye for fame, Know the value of faith, an' family, and don't you complain, Open wide, your windows of opportunity" — Kate Denson's "Windows of Opportunity”

To say that Lance liked you was an understatement. He was obsessed. Not crazy obsessed, but obsessed in the way that you consumed his every thought.

Luckily this didn't extend to during fights, but even then he would still be acutely aware of where you were at all times, making sure he could hear your voice over the comms, often talking over Coran just to flirt with you.

You were no different. Having known Lance since before joining the Garrison, your feelings for him have come and gone repetitively. Each time you'd confide in Pidge, declaring that you were over him after seeing him treat someone else the same way he treats you, claiming that he'd only ever see you as a friend, he'd do something that would make you retract anything bad you'd ever said about him.

Yours and Lance's feelings were obvious to everyone and it bewildered them how you both thought they were one sided.

The kitchen was quiet, Hunk, Keith and Pidge holding conversation while each did their own thing: Hunk baking, Keith tracing his blade and Pidge on her computer. Peaceful.

"What if I say something and she thinks I'm weird and never talks to me again?"

Keith and Pidge immediately groaned while Hunk remained silent, watching as Lance walked past all three of them, interrupting their conversation and train of thoughts. He threw himself onto a chair at the table across from Pidge who had already gathered her things and gotten up to leave. "Nope, not dealing with this again," she said as she left.

"She already thinks you're weird, I'm surprised she still puts up with you," Keith says from the spot next to where Pidge was. Lance glared at him in response, ignoring him.

"I think you should just try. If her face when she looks at you is anything to go off, I'm pretty sure she likes you too." It was a usually useless statement that was many times returned with "You're lying," or "I would've noticed." This time however, Lance turned to face Hunk and instead said,

"I was on my way to ask her out just now but she was training with Shiro and was in a zone and I didn't wanna disrupt that cause- where are you going?" Lance cut his rant off with a question directed at Keith who was leaving the kitchen.

"To train," was all he replied with.

"So you're finally going to do it? Why are you in here then?" Hunk asked.

"Yeah I am. I'm sick of wondering if she feels the same so I'm just gonna ask. I've never had a problem with it before so why should I now?"

From there, Lance vowed to himself that he would ask you out as soon as possible. He didn't want to spend any more time not being able to call you his than he had to.

You heard your name being called from down the corridor as you made your way to the showers. Training with Shiro was one thing, training with Shiro and Keith was another when you weren't out in the field anywhere near as often as them. It also didn't help how Keith had mentioned he had come to you two to escape Lance's apparent rambling about you. It had thrown you off and to make up for it and stop Shiro's teasing, you had put even more effort in than you normally would.

Turning around, you saw Lance running to catch up to you. Despite wanting to turn and make a run for it to the showers to avoid any embarrassment, you stopped and waited for him to meet you.

Huffing slightly, Lance met up with you and stopped to take you in. You were beautiful. Even when you were clearly sweaty and exhausted. He had to shake his head slightly to keep his thoughts from turning dirty. "Finished training?"

"Yeah, was just heading to the showers, wanna join me?" you said with a smirk, knowing that your question could be taken a couple different ways.

Recognising your signature smirk you used whenever the two of you would 'harmlessly' flirt, Lance played along. "Of course."

"Was there something you wanted to talk to me about?" Lance froze up briefly. He had wondered if Keith had overheard him say that he was going to ask you out and had opened his big mouth to you. You quietened his thoughts by following up with, "You look like you wanna say something. If its to tell me I smell, I know, Shiro and Keith are not easy opponents."

"Yeah you do stink, but I hope you kicked Keith's ass." Lance joked. "Anyway, I just wanted to ask you the best way to ask someone out." Your smile dropped for a second before replacing it with a forced one. You knew he didn't like you and he wasn't yours to lose so why should you keep someone else from experiencing what you could only dream about.

"Oh, well, it depends who it is. Personally, I like when it's done in a way that shows the person really knows me, like with trinkets or using inside jokes as a way of showing their feelings rather than just saying it. Allura though, she'd probably like to be taken somewhere nice, so when you ask her out maybe do it on a planet with a nice skyline or sunset or something." You knew it had to be Allura he was planning to ask out. He'd been flirting with her ever since you all met her. It was only a matter of time. You felt the unwanted tears build up - you had to get away, and fast. "Oh look, we're at the showers, thanks for walking with me and good luck on asking Allura, I'm sure she'll say yes." You were out of sight in seconds.

Lance stood facing the door speechless and confused. Where did Allura come into this? Why were you so quick to leave? He had only asked how to ask someone in hopes to lead up to him actually asking but instead his window of opportunity had closed before he even let it open.

His next window was clear. He had his speech planned out, knew exactly what he wanted to say and how. Now was the perfect opportunity. You were the only one on the bridge, sat in his seat seemingly just relaxing. Why you were doing that here instead of in the lounge he didn't know but he decided to ask later.

You hadn't noticed Lance's presence until you head a "Quiznack" be muttered under his breath as he tripped over his own feet, luckily managing to catch himself. You sat up and turned to face him. "Finally falling for me, Sharp-shooter?" you joked, internally cringing at the use of the word 'finally'.

If Lance had noticed your slip up, he didn't mention it. Instead, he rounded to the front of the chair you were in and dropped to sit on the floor facing you. "You wish. No. I just wanted to talk to you about something."

"How did it go with Allura?" Truthfully, you didn't want to know, but you were sure you'd hear about it from one of them soon enough so why not get it out of the way.

"How did what go with Allura?" The confusion on his face was obvious.

"You were gonna ask her our remember? You literally asked me how to do it like two days ago." You mirrored Lance's confusion.

"Oh." Silence. "Oh! No! I wasn't planning to ask her out! I actually wanted to ask you-" his voice, which was already turning very quiet was cut off by you sitting up and squinting at the window.

"What was that?" You asked yourself aloud. Lance mistook that as a question for him.

"I said-" he was cut off again when you quickly got up and ran to the window.

"Quiznack!"

"What?"

"Alert everyone. Get to your lions. Now."

At that, Lance looked outside to see multiple Galra ships appearing. He groaned internally. To you the groan was about having to go out and fight. For him, the groan was because yet another window of opportunity had shut.

Keith really just wanted to lay down. Not necessarily sleep as that had never come easy to him, but he was exhausted. Instead he had to listen to you whine about how Lance doesn't share your feelings. When he had asked why you were coming to him about this you had said that everyone who wasn't Lance was busy and she didn't want to bother them. At that moment he wished you hadn't found him sat in the lounge. As much as he cherished you as a friend, he was quite frankly sick of hearing about Lance. When there was a knock at the door of his room, of which you had followed him into and immediately flopped onto his bed mid rant, Keith rolled his eyes and opened it. He was glad it had at least got you to be quiet since you also wondered who it was.

"Hey have you seen, oh hi pretty, Keith have you seen-" Lance stopped talking. When he'd said hi, he wasn't thinking, it was natural instinct. When he realised you were laid out on Keith's bed, his brain caught up to his mouth.

You, on the other hand, were blushing. It wasn't the first time Lance was calling you pretty. In fact it's what he called you 90% of the time. But it was the timing. You had just been complaining about how he doesn't think of you except from if he has to or if you're talking with him then he calls you pretty, offhanded. You were going insane.

"What's up?" Keith asked Lance, aiming a sly smirk at you as if he could tell you were going crazy over both seeing the person who was the main character of your rant and at the name said person had called you.

"Actually I was looking for her but if you guys are busy..."

Keith took this opportunity to both get rid of you so he can lie down and also get back at you for talking his ear off. "No, no, please, take her, I'm sick of hearing about you."

Lance ignored Keith's comment, turning to you, "Can we talk?"

Your eyes went wide as you sat up, your heart immediately dropping. Had you done something wrong? Had he overheard you talking about how much you liked him? Was this the end of your guys's friendship? You'd rather have him as a friend than nothing at all. You just nodded and said bye to Keith as you left his room.

The door closed within milliseconds of you leaving the room. It was just you and Lance now. Alone. "Come on," Lance smiled and started walking to his room.

Arriving in his room, Lance's nerves began to pick up. This was his chance. Again. He promised to himself that this is it. He wasn't going to let another interruption keep him from telling you how he feels.

Being in his room alone with him was nothing new, so why did you feel so nervous. "Come sit down, pretty." Lance patted the spot next to where he had just sat on his bed. You plastered a smile on your face and sat down.

"What's up? You never ask to talk, you usually just... do."

Lance let out a snort at that, giving you a pointed glance. "Oh and you don't?"

"I never said that."

The light hearted joking relaxed you - it's what you were used to between the two of you.

Your previous nerves about what Lance had to say dissipated as the two of you continued to joke together a little longer.

"Lance. You didn't come find me just to hang out. I know you. What's up?"

He had been putting it off, nerves creeping up the closer he came to confessing and so he sought comfort in your company as it was. Lance nodded and cleared his throat, turning to look in your eyes. "Every time I've tried to talk to you about this, something interrupts me: you rushing off to the showers, then the galra finding us. And then you thought I asked Allura out which is crazy because yeah she's-"

"Lance." You cut him off, not wanting to hear about how the princess of Altea was perfect and dreamy. "Come on."

"As I was going to say, before someone rudely interrupted, again-"

You laughed and stuck your tongue out at him quickly and jokingly.

"Hey! Anyway, yeah Allura is cool, I mean, she's a princess. But she isn't you." He paused, but realised how that could be taken, he continued, "I don't want Allura... I want you pretty girl. And it has taken me way too long to finally tell you. There have been so many missed windows of opportunity, and I refuse to miss any more. It's you. It's always been you, and I'm sorry I led you to believe otherwise."

You were speechless. A confession wasn't even on the list of things you had expected to come from this talk. The smile that grew on your face was unstoppable. Not trusting yourself to let out a happy squeal, you threw your arms around the man who had just told you he chooses you.

The sudden force took Lance by surprise, but he was fast to wrap his arms around your waist and fall back onto his bed, pulling you down with him. You lifted your head to look Lance in the eyes. Lance took this as his chance to finally make things official. "Will you be mine, pretty?"

The smile you didn't think could grow any wider, did. "I will always be yours, Loverboy Lance."

notes: i low-key kinda don't like how this ended up but i tried. it's also only slightly proof-read because i wanna move on to a keith fic now. also, if you saw this before, i reposted it cause i wanted it after my masterlist stuff so its still the same just reposted. reblogs, comments and likes are always appreciated. i also may make a taglist so let me know if you wanna be on it!

@cafekitsune made the dividers here!

thank you for reading!!

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giuliettagaltieri · 2 years ago

Text

Project: Galatea

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x AI!reader

Synopsis: Allowing you sentiency made things more complicated between you and Miguel. But Peter Parker from Earth-199999 decides to take on an unfinished impossible project of his late mentor, and possibly bring you and Miguel back together.

Warning: Questionable nerd writing, spiderverse context, angst

Word Count: 6218

1 of 3

You are one of Miguel O’Hara’s greatest regrets.

You were created as an artificially intelligent system and with the advancements brought by the time Miguel created you, he was able to make you connect, bond, and feel. He was lax with your restrictions. Thinking of you as a companion than a holographic computer system.

He gave you a name that is not patterned to your system, it was just a name he gave you as he thought it suited your features that was just generated by the programming. He wanted your appearance to be something that is yours, and not something that he created based on what he preferred.

You usually sat on Miguel’s shoulders before he even became Spiderman, working as a bioengineer at Alchemax. He knows it’s late when you start yawning and you lean on him for a nap, kind of like how someone would put their phone on a power saving mode.

“Miggy, let’s sleep?” You often say as you plop yourself atop his hair.

He just chuckles as he works on his suit, getting tired of the easily ripped fabric of his previous gear, he decided to create one that is made of unstable molecules. “You can go offline. I’ll have to finish this.”

“’M not sleeping if you’re staying up.” You huff. “Come on, you can work on that tomorrow.” You fly in front of him and cross your arms.

He notes how your halo is a bit dimmer. “Alright.” He often wondered if you can really get sleepy. You are created through codes and though it is evident that you can have emotions, you can’t possess qualities the same as a real person would.

Your wings flutter excitedly as you flap them so you can perch yourself back on his head.

It was a little inside joke between you. You are the rational voice when he is about to do something stupid. An angel on his shoulder. Your sudden appearance would often startle his enemies and wonder what the fuck you are and you would simply smile, point at Miguel and say, “I’m his conscience.”

Your halo and wings often glowed in the softest hue of pink and white. Their hue depends on your mood.

Miguel yawns as he enters his bathroom. You shriek and shield your eyes when he lifts his shirt up to strip.

“You pervert!” You stomp your heel on his forehead and even though he can’t feel it, your annoyance was enough to amuse him, Miguel’s laugh was muffled by his toothbrush.

You often sit on the faucet as you wait for him to finish his shower.

“What does a shower feel like?” You muse, your chin resting on your hand while your elbow is perched on your thigh.

“Uh…wet?”

You roll your eyes at his response. You look away from him when he comes out of the shower, a towel wrapped around his waist.

“It’s refreshing, I guess.” Miguel shrugs as he scoops your light projected body on his large hand.

Your tiny hands hold his thumb for balance, not that you need it but you felt the need to anyway.

“Go offline now, firefly. See you in the morning.”

“Don’t forget to buy groceries tomorrow.” You say before flickering. “Goodnight, Miggy.” And you disappear.

“Goodnight, Y/N.” He smiles.

On Sundays, you both share lazy mornings. He would often walk around his apartment in nothing but his boxers and you eventually get used to it. You would sit on his shoulders as he attempted to cook for himself.

“No, it should be three tablespoons of soy sauce, not teaspoons.” You would correct him every now and then and he would just switch the utensil, knowing that you have unlimited access to the recipes online.

You would lie on your stomach on the throw pillow he would put on his lap as you watched a movie. “She easily could have transferred the data and he won’t have to go through all that.” You would comment now and then as your tiny feet sway in the air. “But that’s fine, I guess, he looks hot fighting the bad guys.”

Miguel would jostle the pillow and you would dramatically roll as you struggled not to fall off, it was probably because of the spatial awareness he gave you.

You would often sulk when he goes on dates. Not responding when he asks you how to tie the piece of fabric that should be his tie. He often found you sitting on top of the bookshelf, your knees tucked to your chest as you drew shapes on the dust covered surface, the shapes not really being made, reminding you that you are only a projection, a hologram, an artificial being, someone who can’t be with Miguel.

“Oh, come one, firefly.” Miguel would sigh as he watched the soft glow behind the books. “It’s only a date.” But you don’t reply.

When he comes home, earlier than he should have been, he’s a little disappointed when you don’t greet him.

“Y/N? Where are you?” He calls as he looks around his apartment. His hands are already loosening his tie. “Come on, I didn’t even kiss her.”

Miguel chuckles lightly as he sees your head pop out from behind the picture frame containing a silly photo of the two of you. “You didn’t?” You ask.

“Nah, her breath stinks of onions.” Miguel throws his coat on the sofa and he collapses next to it.

You giggle and you fly to him, landing on his chest, laying down on your stomach once more as your hands support your cheeks. “Yeah? You didn’t like her?” You ask a little excitedly.

Miguel shakes his head as he keeps his eyes on you. He smiles when you cheer out of happiness.

He would also have fun watching you play dress up in front of his holographic tablet. He’s in his bed, just lounging and you’re on his abdomen, swiping the screen to find a new dress to wear. Miguel glances at the clock on his nightstand. You’ve been at it for hours.

“I like this one, what do you think, Miggy?”

The man turns to look at you, only for his spit to go down the wrong tube, making him hack. “What the hell is that?”

You look at the white skin tight dress that covers your tiny holographic body. “A dress?”

Miguel frowns at you. “Says who?”

A cute brow is raised at him. “Calvin Klein.”

He clicks his tongue. “It looks like underwear. The fuck would you choose such an old brand for?”

You scoff and continue to scroll to look for something else. “It’s a classic.”

“Well, I don’t like it.”

Then it happens one day.

You are helping Miguel battle Mysterio when he meets her. He caught her just before she fell to her death.

Next thing you knew, they were going on dates.

“Yeah, I know. I’ll deal with the symbiote sighting tomorrow evening.” He says hurriedly as he makes his way to his front door but you land on the doorknob and you look at him angrily.

“You can’t choose a girl over an entire city!” You say sternly as you place your hands on your hips.

Miguel raises a brow and smirks down at you. “What an exaggeration. Are you jealous?”

Your frown deepens. “Miguel, you can’t seriously go on a date when Carnage is at large!”

He straightens up and looks at you, annoyed. “If I wear the mask all the time, I’ll go mad. Just let me be Miguel O’Hara for tonight.”

Miguel does not return to his apartment that night.

And you don’t respond to his calls for a week.

“You’re such an inconvenience, Y/N.” He quips. “I made you so you can help me with my work.” He says as he looks around for the villain that was wreaking havoc in the city. “Stop sulking and do your job!”

You would reluctantly pop out and help him, only speaking when needed, giving him the information that he needs and nothing more.

It was difficult for you to watch Miguel slowly fall in love with her, and even more so when he loses her.

He became sad and angry, very angry.

“Miguel? You need to rest.” You say softly as you watch him perfecting an experiment. You peer on his work and your eyes widen when you see a powerful focused energy hovering on Miguel’s work table.

You immediately fly to his face. “Are you mad? Do you realize what you are doing?” He turns to the other screen but you follow him around. “You can’t tamper with time and space like that.”

All lights suddenly go off and Miguel exhales deeply through his nose, his eyes full of rage as he glares at you. “Power it back on.” His voice is low and it was the first time you have ever felt fear because of him but you stand your ground.

The man does not falter with his disapproving look on you but you refuse to power his computers back to life. You won’t just stand around and let him interfere with the natural order.

“My name is Miguel O’Hara and I am authorizing a shutdown sequence.” He says and you frantically look around as a bright red screen flashes behind you.

“Miguel, don’t do this!” You cry to him, your eyes begging as you press your tiny hands on his cheeks but his eyes remain cold as he stares at the screen.

“Commence shut down of the Intelligent Digital Assistance System. Project name: Galatea.” Miguel looks at your pleading eyes. “For good.”

He watches your eyes fill with sadness before your form flickers just like how it used to whenever you whisper ‘Goodnight.’ And he watches the pixelated tear roll down your cheek before you disintegrate into a million tiny pieces.

The events that followed after his decisions of tampering with the fragility of the multiverse was his punishment.

There was no undoing it all.

He wished he just listened to you when you tried to stop him. It wouldn’t have come to all of this.

Now, he dedicates his life to protecting what else is left. Trying to keep the multiverse intact to prevent the same mistake from happening.

And Lyrate Lifeform Approximation was created, or Lyla.

Miguel made her different from you. Lyla is created to be more objective, more functional, with just a right amount of spunk for a bit of personality.

The Spider Society was then formed. A strike force dedicated to keep the multiverse from tearing apart.

In there, he found a sense of sympathy. The people in there suffered just like him. A lot of spider-people were in pain. But not all of them knew how to follow orders. Not thinking about the consequences of their actions. Never willing to sacrifice a portion of themselves for the greater good.

Like Miles Morales.

Or Peter Parker of Earth-199999.

They both came around eventually, after a couple or more heart attacks from Miguel.

Peter Parker was trying to learn from Spider-Byte and how future tech works. He was given a specific holographic screen in the corner and he’s been trying to pick it apart for hours.

“Wow, Ned’s not gonna believe this.” He whispers as his eyes dart from one file to the other, being connected like faint orange lines.

“Hold on, what’s this?” Peter mumbles as he taps on a tiny file that is placed separate, somewhere isolated, forgotten.

“Can I?” Peter scratches his jaw. “Should I?” He shrugs before opening the file. He rolls his chair backward as the tiny file explodes to the most intricate coding he has ever seen. He saw something like this before. When he studied Tony’s AIs. Or at least what was left of them.

He clicks on a file, one of the millions. A large ‘RESTRICTED’ was flashed on the screen in bold red letters. He tries again and the same word is flashed. He tries again and again until he sees Miguel O’Hara himself in front of a mirror and a miniature angel on Miguel’s hand.

“You like it?” Miguel asked.

The holographic angel nods excitedly, pure joy evident in her eyes. She twirls around in front of the mirror, inspecting her wings and adoring her tiny halo.

“Miggy, it’s perfect!” You fly up to kiss his cheek. The connection between you was impossible to miss.

And the screen goes blank.

“Are you kidding me?” Peter grasps his hair as he jumps around in excitement. Peter squints his eyes to read the file name. “Galatea.”

“Greek mythology Galatea?” Spider-Byte wonders behind Peter.

Peter flinches, his sidersense clouded with the amount of enthusiasm being contained in his body. “I-I don’t know. I don’t know yet. It’s-”

“That’s the file name of my older sister, Y/N.” Lyla suddenly pops out between them.

“Lyla, you know her?” Peter asks, not being able to hide his eagerness. “Is she an AI like you?”

Spider-Byte and Peter look at her in anticipation. “I’m not sure if I should talk about her.” She looks skeptical before she breaks into a wide grin. “Well, there’s no order for me not to so I suppose I can.”

Two sets of eyes follow Lyla around as she glitches towards Peter’s screen and she pops up a photo of you sitting on Miguel’s head as the two of you wore similar aviators.

“She’s Miguel’s first AI companion. Way before the Spider Society was even created, before he was even Spiderman, I think.” Lyla rubs her chin as she opens her own tiny screens. “Though, I’m not sure. Miguel replays their videos together in the dark when he thinks he’s alone but I can’t really find most of her files.”

“It was compressed there.” Peter points at the screen, trying not to get distracted from what Lyla just told them. “Did she get corrupted by a virus?” His thoughts wandered to the articles he read about Ultron.

“No. She uhm.” The small screen Lyla created vanished, making her glowing face look a bit dimmer. “Her program was shut down.”

Spider-Byte glanced at the screen that has you and Miguel in it. “Why shut down a working program?”

Lyla glances at your face on the screen. “She was created differently. More empathetic and subjective. For some reason, she was sentient.”

Peter gawks at her and he shares a look with Spider-Byte. “Was that even a possibility?” Spider-Byte asks.

Shrugging, Lyla gives them a tight-lipped smile. “Well, it happened, didn’t it?”

“She was sentient but she was shut down?” Peter asks incredulously. “Did she go rogue or something?”

Lyla shakes her head no. “She was the total embodiment of those wings and halo.”

“Then why was her program shut down?” Peter asked, his face twisted in pure confusion and disbelief.

Lyla doesn’t respond and turns to your picture with Miguel and your matching smiles.

Spider-Byte sighs. “They got too attached, didn’t they? Her and Miguel?”

Peter frowns at her question but remembers Wanda and Vision J.A.R.V.I.S.

An impossible idea pops in Peter’s head. It’s irrational, risky, and impulsive but those are just some of the qualities Peter got from his mentor.

“Do you think Miguel would give her codes to me?” Peter blurts.

Lyla and Spider-Byte looks at him as if he just asked if he could go break a canon.

“Absolutely not.” Was Miguel’s response to Peter when he finally asked the bigboss for your codes.

Peter curses under his breath. He even had to ask MJ and Ned to help him create a presentation as to why Miguel should give your codes to him.

“Oh, come on. I rehearsed that speech for a week!”

“She holds classified information. I can’t just give a copy of her to you.” Miguel says as he taps on his holographic screen.

“Not a copy. The original code.” Peter says more seriously. “Protocols and memory.”

Miguel pauses and glowers at Peter from his shoulders. The look was enough to make Peter second guess himself but his resolve comes back, stronger than ever.

“I’m trying to bring her back to you.” Peter says loudly.

This catches Miguel’s attention and he turns to look at Peter from above the platform in his office.

“Elaborate.” Miguel looks at Peter with a blank expression.

Peter pumps his fist secretly and clears his throat before speaking.

“I am currently studying bioorganics and I’m trying to complete an unfinished project of my mentor, Mr. Stark. He created a synthetic body that is not made of vibranium but something that is made of organic materials. You know, like a real person.”

Miguel looks at the screen next to him which is flashing Peter’s proposal. “And you want Y/N to bring life to that thing?”

“Well, it won’t be easy without the mind stone but I heard she’s quite sentient.” Peter explains while gesturing with his hand way too much, clearly nervous. “That is also assuming that her operational matrix adapts to the organic body.”

“What if you fail? I’ll lose all her data.” Miguel says, a threatening tone clearly heard in his voice.

“Last time her file was opened was years ago.” Peter quickly shut his mouth when Miguel throws him a dangerous look. “What I’m trying to say is, this is a chance. You could potentially see her again, this time, with a physical body.”

Miguel heaves a sigh and chooses to glare at the walls instead.

“I know something painful must have happened for you to shut down her program like that. But it doesn’t feel right to trap a sentient being in a set of codes.” Peter frowns at his feet and grumbles the next words. “Come on man, I’m trying to give you a chance to apologize to her, face to face.”

Silence fills the entire room.

Peter is waiting for Miguel to yell again but he is taken aback when he looks up to see a defeated and longing look plastered on Miguel’s face.

“Just…” Miguel pauses, it was difficult for him and Peter can see it. “Don’t destroy her code.”

“Thank you, Mr. O’Hara. You won’t regret it!” He beams at Miguel.

“I sure hope not.” Miguel turns to his screens to resume his work. “And Mr. O’Hara was my father. You can call me Miguel.”

Peter wasted no time and started working on the project right away when he got back to Earth-199999.

It was difficult, trying to follow Bruce and Tony’s work. Especially when the body is more susceptible and reactive. You even had the anatomy of a real person, inside and out.

The project was something that Peter cannot do on his own. He needed his friends and MJ and Ned were more than willing to help. Both were hesitant with the thought of literally bringing an AI to life, considering what happened before in Sokovia. They did not know you, MJ and Ned, they were wary as they should be with all the risks they were about to make.

Peter had to turn your code upside down, in and out, trying to look for glitches or any malicious intent but found none.

The three of them are taken by surprise as to what your synthetic body could do.

It was MJ who noticed first. You have a lymphatic system.

By next week, Ned finds out that you have a fully functional endocrine system.

There was always something in you that they discover for the first time when they delve deeper. Which makes it difficult for them to make real progress. Just as they thought they made a breakthrough, your synthetic body just shows another ability that blurs the line between you and humanity.

“You need to stop looking at her like a robot.” Miguel tells him one day as Peter seeks any advice from him, considering that he did work in Alchemax as a bioengineer. “Treat her like how you would treat a human.”

That was when Peter decided that just him and his friends can’t do it alone. They were only college students!

This project calls for someone who has a doctorate in medicine and knows the human body like the back of their hand.

It was difficult for them to get Stephen Strange to have a look at the setbacks they encountered in your body. But when given the right information and told what he wanted to hear, Stephen was already opening a portal to Peter’s dorm room.

“I’ll tell you what’s the problem.” Stephen says. “Some of her neurons are meeting in a terminal. Electrical impulses can’t get through, causing circuit failures.”

Peter squints on the holographic screen that Stephen zoomed in. “Yeah. That’s where the mind stone is supposed to be.”

“But the AI has an awakened consciousness, she won’t be needing it.” Stephen mutters more to himself. “And the mind stone's already gone.”

Ned walks over to look at the screen, a cup of hot chocolate in his hands. “But you’ll be able to redirect them, won’t you?”

Stephen does not respond, only staring intently at the holographic form of your shell.

MJ glances at the anxious look on Peter’s face as he awaits Stephen’s answer. When silence still follows, MJ rolls her eyes.

“Don’t get your hopes up too much, Ned.” She sighs, making Stephen narrow his eyes. “There could be a thousand neu-”

“A trillion.” Strange emphasizes.

“A trillion neurons to redirect. He might be a neurosurgeon but he is not a miracle worker.”

Ned sucks in a breath and raises his cup to his lips and sips quietly, eyes wide, awaiting Stephen’s response.

Stephen suddenly rips off the sling ring and slips it somewhere in his robes. Peter takes a step back, almost getting hit by Stephen dramatically taking off his cape. “I’m about to become your deus ex machina.”

MJ snatches a piece of bread sitting on Peter’s dining table and takes a bite, sending a wink to Peter.

“Stark really outdid himself.” Stephen marvels at your intricate anatomical structure. “The shell does mimic the human body, the nerves, fiber, and vessels.” Stephen squints at something and hums. “But there’s the issue of physiology.”

Peter looks at the metallic casket and to Stephen. “What about physiology?”

Stephen points at the left side of your pelvis. “That’s an ovary.” He drags his finger on the screen to point at the right side. “There’s another one here.”

Peter could only look at Stephen. Waiting for him to confirm what was running in Peter’s head.

Surely Tony did not think that far ahead to give you that ability. That is ethically ambiguous.

“It is possible that it is not functional.” Stephen rubs his jaw. “Perhaps we could think of it as a vestigial organ for now.”

Peter simply nods, following Stephen as he zooms in on your lumbar spine.

“She has a functional endocrine system.” Ned recalls, making Stephen whip towards him. “I ran a noninvasive test and I detected traces of estrogen, progesterone, and FSH.”

Stephen runs a hand on his face. “And hCG?”

Ned ponders for a moment. “Yeah, human chorionic gonadotropin was also there.”

MJ clutches her bread a little too tight. “She is capable of gestation?” Her voice came out as a shaky whisper.

All eyes turn to Stephen who shakes his head. “That is ridiculous!” He chuckles dryly. “That shouldn’t be possible.” He stares at the holographic image of the synthetic shell. “Was Stark trying to play God?” His voice was starting to raise, his fist clenching.

“Whoa, I’m sure that’s not it.” Peter raises a hand nervously as he gulps.

Strange points at the casket. “You realize you’ll be bringing a being to life that isn’t supposed to exist.”

“She has a name!” MJ interjects.

“You understand that you are overstepping your mortal bounds.” Stephen continues.

Peter looks at Stephen, shocked. “Please, sir! I-I only want to finish this project for Mr. Stark.” He points at your holographic body. “And set her free from her digital prison. We are about to give her a chance to live, like really live.”

Stephen glances at your metallic casket warily.

“She’s not a villain.” Peter says more calmly. “I checked her code a thousand times.”

Stephen shakes his head.

“I can’t believe I’m about to take part in a project that is the peak of Stark’s god complex.”

Peter grins.

The chance of meeting you does not seem so impossible anymore.

Miguel watches Peter Parker of Earth-199999 with a sharp glare.

The “project” that the kid told him about has been going on for six months but he has been given zero updates regarding your progress.

His jaw tightens when he catches the kid stealing a glance at him from across the cafeteria in HQ before ducking his head again.

“Why don’t you go ask him what’s wrong?” Peter B says blankly at Miguel as he stuffed his mouth with fries. “Kid’s been doing that for the past hour.”

Miguel scoffs. “If he has something to say, he will be the one to approach me.”

For the past months, Miguel has been dropping hints to Avenger Peter, the nickname seems to really make the kid happy so the entire Spider Society just rolled with it. Miguel made sure to assign him on missions that might aid his project. The kid can be dense sometimes in picking up indirect messages but Miguel does it anyway, almost sighing out a breath of relief when he watches Peter’s eyes glimmer with realization.

“Whope- Okay! I gotta run. See you around, Miguel.” Peter B snatches his drink and clumsily leaves.

Miguel glares at the man’s retreating form before he hears his name being called.

“What?” Miguel spits.

“Uh, is this a bad time?”

Miguel looks to his side and narrows his eyes at Avenger Peter. Finally, he mustered the courage.

“What is it?” Miguel straightens, his enormous arms crossing in his chest, looking a bit threatening.

Peter looks at the empty seat in front of Miguel, he’s not sure if it’s rude to just sit there without being invited to but he does it anyway.

“It’s about Y/N.” Peter whispers rather too loudly, basically defeating its purpose.

Miguel’s eyes flickered with fury, making Peter swallow harshly, trying to choose his words very carefully.

“I know I really took my time with the project but the good news is that we successfully transferred her code to the shell.”

Oftentimes, Miguel would pitch in sarcastic comments but he can feel the weight in Peter’s words that he finds himself closely listening, trying to take in every detail that Peter shares.

“We managed to synthesize her code and reprogrammed her synapses to sync and adapt to the body.” Peter heaves a breath. “But the thing is, we can’t get to wake her up.”

The crushing feeling of losing someone again was not easy for Miguel to ignore but he nodded at Peter’s words.

“Did you try amping the power source?” Miguel suggests.

Peter nods slowly. “Yes. We tried from nuclear fission to the arc reactor.” Peter leans back on the cafeteria bench, looking too nonchalant despite the shadiness of his words, Miguel won’t be surprised if one day he finds out that the kid’s locked up in prison for conducting mad experiments. “I was thinking of contacting Thor but I really didn’t know how.”

Miguel masks the disappointment in his eyes with a stern look. “Did you make sure that you got all her system matrix properly embedded in the body?”

“Definitely!” Peter nods. “It’s like she’s far away, dreaming. She’s there but she’s also not. Y/N’s shutting us out.”

A pindrop silence befalls them.

“What did you say?” Miguel says sharply to Peter as he leans slightly forward.

The kid unconsciously leans backward. “Y/N’s…shutting us out?”

It all clicks in Miguel’s head.

“She needs me.”

Peter’s eyes widened at his bluntness. “Huh?”

“I designed her program to only respond to me. I shut off her system. Of course. Her protocol does not recognize you.”

Slowly, Peter catches up, his eyes widening in barely contained excitement. “Is she programmed to activate upon voice command?”

Miguel rises to his feet, quickly making his way out of the cafeteria while Peter giddily follows, the largest smile plastered on his face.

“I’m certain I can get her to respond.” Miguel mutters as he taps into his multiverse gizmo.

The familiar building up sound of the portal fills the air and soon enough a cluster of patterns and colors emerge right in front of them.

With purpose in his steps, Miguel crosses the portal headed to Earth-199999, to you.

Peter’s room was nothing short of underwhelming compared to the building they just stepped out of but Miguel can see the traces of genius scattered around the room.

On top of a desk, piled notes for astrophysical physics. Next to the kitchen sink, a perpetual motion machine that is made of the most tedious house materials. In a corner, a phone is being charged and is hanging by the charger cord.

The lights suddenly power off, coating the room in darkness. “I know you’re sensitive to lights.” Peter shrugs, to which Miguel only nods.

“Stop right there!”

Miguel turns to see a girl threatening him with a piece of…toast? And another kid who is doing a very poor karate stance.

“No, MJ, Ned. It’s fine, he’s here to help Y/N.” Peter raises his hands and steps in between Miguel and the other kids.

“Where is she?” Miguel asks.

The kid trying to do the karate stance points to the corner of the room that is covered by a screen.

Miguel easily slips past them, he didn’t even have to try.

He ignored the calls as his feet just led him to where you are. He didn’t know what he should be expecting to see. But he knew it wasn’t the metallic casket.

“She’s in there.” Peter stands next to him. “It’s powered enough and it should activate when you power her system on.” Miguel can only nod at Peter’s words. “We don’t have a hypothesis yet as to what would happen when she rises. But we could probably expect that she would manifest signs similar to someone who just woke up from cryosleep. Orthostatic hypotension could also be a possibility-”

Peter pauses when he feels MJ’s hand on his shoulder. MJ nods to Miguel’s pained expression.

The time they spent on your project was enough to drive them nuts and they are dying to see you but looking at Miguel’s face, they know they might never fully understand the longing he feels.

Peter does not know what happened between you two but he can ask another day. He watches how Miguel’s fingers carefully brush the metallic casket. If Peter didn’t know better, he would have been greatly disturbed with the amount of vulnerability the man is showing.

“Well, we’re gonna step out for a bit as you wake her up.” Peter says with a softer smile gracing his lips. “And I really appreciate the hints you drop every now and then.”

MJ smiles at Peter and she interlaces their hands together. Ned nods at the two and follows them out.

The soft footsteps soon fade and the sound of the door locking into place reaches Miguel’s ears.

A quiet buzzing was audible from the box that contained you. It must have been the energy they tried to power you with. But it was endearing to him in some way that only he could wake you.

There were only a few times where a man of such stature as Miguel O’Hara was brought to his knees. This was one of them. His knees hit the cheap fabric of the carpet and his weight bears on his skin. Miguel lay his hand flat on the cool surface of the metallic box. And he leans his forehead to it.

With his voice hoarse, he whispers your name. He swallows the rest of the words. He does not know why. He cannot wait a second longer to see you but the fear grips him hard, just like how it did for years.

It was a cruel terror but his desire to see your face again overpowers any fear.

“My name is Miguel O’Hara and I am authorizing a startup sequence.”

Miguel grits his teeth when he does not hear the same beeping sounds that precedent your arrival. His forehead creasing at the memory of you begging him not to lock you away. He did not deserve you, not after what he did. But Miguel O’Hara is a selfish man and he would stop at nothing to have you back.

“Commence booting of the Intelligent Digital Assistance System. Project name: Galatea.” He sucks in a breath, this time, meaning the next words with all honesty. “For good.”

Silence has never been louder. It clogged the room, suffocating him.

“Please, wake up.” He brushes his lips on the freezing cold case.

A hiss is released by the contraption and Miguel’s eyes widen as he steps back to see you better. But as more hissing sound came, vapor flooded the area where the metallic flaps were slowly opening.

Then a hand grasped on the opened flaps, then came distressed gasping.

“Y/N!” Miguel didn’t know what he was doing, his body was acting on its own as he hopped inside the casket to help you sit up.

Your hair covers your face and Miguel reaches to brush them to the side, his large calloused hand rubs on your bare back to soothe you. It felt unreal to finally have you in his grasp, hearing you, seeing you.

You whimper in pain when a particular cough rasped on your throat.

“Hey, take it easy.” Miguel whispers as he crouches down so he can see you eye to eye. “Breathe.”

And when you look up to him with your eyes heavy with exhaustion, Miguel halts his movements as he feels himself being caught up in a temporal illusion.

Time, space, everything felt irrelevant the moment your eyes met his.

“M-Miggy?” You whisper.

Miguel breaks into a disbelieving smile.

He watches your moonlight bathed face contort to confusion. You raise your delicate fingers, reaching out to his face but stopping just before your skin touches. You hesitate, not sure if what you see before you is truly the man you loved.

The tips of your fingers brush on his cheek so softly, he almost doesn’t feel it and you let them run across his warm skin so you can cup his cheek.

Your chapped lips break to the smile he missed and loved so ardently.

He closes his eyes as he lets your fingers dance on his skin. He holds in a breath when your fingertips smooth out the crease on his forehead and his much larger hand captures your wrist.

For so long, he wanted to apologize. He did, countless of times, in the darkness and silence of his room, to a photo of you. His apologies only floating in the air, unheard.

“What I did to you was wrong. Everyday, I regret it. I promised you happiness when I created your code but I upset you and I have no right to be hurting in the way that I am. I was so stupid for shutting your system down when you were only looking out for me.”

The moonlight bathed you, making you glow, an ethereal sight to behold.

“I wasn’t ready to say goodbye when you shut down my program.” You say as you place your hands on his shoulders. “But there is nothing you can ever do to make me stay mad at you.”

He was about to protest when you hushed him.

“I know.” You smile at him tenderly. “You don’t have to say anything else. I know.”

Miguel could feel his chest tightening. The complexity of the quantum physics, he has no trouble understanding, but what you do to him, he is easily lost. “I don’t deserve you, firefly.”

You nod. “No, you don’t.” You yawn before flashing him a sleepy smile. “But I’ll stay with you anyway.”

He chuckles, eyes boring into yours.

You are as stubborn as he remembers you to be.

Your breath mixes together as you let yourselves draw to each other.

His arm slips to your waist, pulling you flush to him.

“Pervert, I’m not decent.” You mumble against his lips. “I have so many questions.”

“Save them for later.” Miguel captures your lips in his. You let out the deepest breath you have taken and you let him mold your lips together. “I screwed up.” He slots your bottom lip between his and he nibbles. “But I could spend the rest of my life making it up to you.”

You hum, amused. “Are you sure about that?” He kissed your shoulder. “I can be quite a handful.”

The corner of Miguel’s lips tugs upwards. “Believe me, I know.”

A teasing smile creeps on your lips and the half-lidded eyes that you are giving him are making him feel fuzzy, it was like you were never apart.

“You are so in love with me.” You press the tip of your finger to his chest, teasingly accusing him.

He shakes his head as he laughs.

“Always have been.”

Project: Galatea • Project: Pandora • Project: Eros

Ficart created by @tired-lime

#miguel o'hara x reader #Miguel O'Hara x you #Miguel O'Hara #Spiderman 2099 x reader #Spiderman 2099 #spiderman across the spider verse #ATSV #Miguel O'Hara x reader #miguel o'hara fanfiction

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ms-demeanor · 1 year ago

Note

hi, thanks for all the tech tips! I hope this isn’t a silly question, but how are password managers secure? Isn’t there a risk of a data breach there?

Each individual account managed through a password management company is (or should be in any respectable product) individually encrypted.

When we see big breaches like the 2013 tumblr leak or similar leaks over the years, typically what you're seeing is either

A) One large collection of information that was stored under the same encryption umbrella and someone was able to use illicit credentials or some other nefarious method to access that information (very bad) or

B) Information that was never encrypted in the first place and was stored in plaintext (much, much worse).

With a good password manager any data that the company has is encrypted and your individual vault is encrypted separately using a key that the company doesn't have access to.

So imagine that you walk into a room and the floor is covered in dominoes arranged in a pattern. With no encryption (scenario B), imagine that the door is unlocked and you can simply open the door and knock over all the dominoes.

With one big encrypted bucket (scenario A), what happens is if you are able to open the main door, you can knock over all the dominoes but it takes some effort to get the door open.

With individually encrypted vaults you need to open the main door, then you see thousands and thousands of tiny safes, each with a combination that you need to guess to access the dominoes inside to knock them over. Each safe has a code that will take somewhere between two years and ten thousand years to guess, depending on the computer doing the guessing, and you can customize your safe to make it harder to guess the combination.

Good encryption is extremely secure, and a lot of the breaches that we see aren't failures of encryption, they are failures of other parts of the system security. What you are typically seeing with big breaches is either someone didn't bother to encrypt anything, or someone fucked up in a big way and people who weren't supposed to gain access were able to gain access.

But what you almost never see is someone genuinely cracking encryption of a secure system.

Password managers generally speaking have a better eye toward security than a lot of other products, and open source password managers tend to be rigorously tested by some tremendously intelligent and tremendously paranoid people who are VERY invested in security.

If you have a Bitwarden account (just using it as the example because it's my favorite and it's what I recommend), Bitwarden actually *can't* access your account. If you forget your password, that's it. You're locked out (this is why it's important to make a good password hint and to make your password manager password both complex AND memorable). They can't recover it for you because they simply do not have access to that data; it is encrypted and they can't crack the encryption and they don't have your key (they have a hash of your key, which means they can recognize your key but they can't reverse engineer it - it's complicated, look up cryptographic hashing, I'm bad at explaining it). So if anyone breaches that system, they ALSO don't have access to your vault or to your key and in order to access your passwords would need to brute force your main password by guessing until they landed on the correct one. If you have a sufficiently long and complex password, that is going to be so extremely difficult that it might as well be impossible.

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i-am-hungry-24-7 · 1 year ago

Text

Spider Webs Part 2 - König*Fem!Reader

Let’s play a game with our colonel.

Part two of my previous writing:

content warning: 18+, mdni, phone sex, masturbation, monitoring

100% will have part 3 because this isn’t what I’m planning first and I accidentally made myself need to write another chapter to finish this work, but hope you enjoy! :)

part 3 bonus chapter 1

Since the day König discovered your obsession with him at your home, your relationship shifted from “superior and subordinate” to something much more intimate, between lovers and predators with their prey.

Who is the predator, and who is the prey? Nice question.

You would feign that you were going to give him his favorite latte and report some “important information”, went into his office, and came out 20 minutes later.

“gott, your hands... so tight... shit...! ahh...”Your delicate hands wrapped tightly around his cock, moving at a swift pace, and after you gave him a playful squeeze on the tip, König came with a moan in your hand, cum splattered on your black shirt.

“Oooh, colonel.” You said with a fake concerned tone “You’re too loud, and you stained my shirt. Do you want your comrades to know what a slutty pervert you are? Cumming hard in your assistant’s hands behind the door of your office?”

“Nein...”

His voice was raspy, weakly spoken due to the exhaustion of post-orgasm.

You took out your handkerchief — the one you hid before so he would come to your house to find it — wiping the cum from your hand and your clothes while maintaining eye contact with König.

“Let’s play a game, colonel.” A mischievous smile appeared on your face. “From now on, no more self pleasuring, no more helping each other, or even sex for us."

“Whoever breaks the rules first needs to listen to the other person's order.” He watched you fold the handkerchief into a perfect square, put it on his desk, and left him panting on his chair.

You didn’t give him a chance to reject, not like he wouldn’t oblige though.

You gave him three tiny monitors and told him to set them up in his office and his room, of course, no blind spots were allowed. In return, you gave him access to those monitors you set up before to catch him sneaking into your house.

With these monitors, you both were able to see what the other was doing all the time.

Including the bathroom, because you both were sick perverts.

König’s libido wasn't that high until he met you, so he thought he might be able to beat you by imagining what he could do to you as a reward for the longtime self-control he maintained during your dangerous game.

But apparently, you weren’t an easy competitor to be beaten.

Sometimes he opened his laptop, clicked on the app for the monitors, and saw you walking in a black nightgown, the silky and close-fitting one that hugs your curves and challenged his self-control.

Well, you should admit he was doing much better than you estimated too.

You bought a second monitor for your computer, just for you to watch him every moment, and he really didn’t do anything sex-related.

You praised him right into his ear when he sat on his office chair, noticing him clutched onto the armrest hard enough to make his knuckles white, but he still played the game pretty well.

But no matter how he well performed, it’s still your game, you would win, eventually.

König came back from a two-week mission at night, it’s not arduous, but it’s an annoying one.

He walked to his office, took off his gear, and sat on his chair with a tired grunt.

The curtains were down, avoiding any moonlight pouring into the room,and he sat under the dim light of the lamp, eyes flickered around, finally lying on his laptop.

What were you doing now?

He missed you, he hadn’t seen you for two weeks, he missed the little praises you whispered to him, missed the heart-warming smile you gave to others, which only turned to a fetching one when you looked at him with evil glints in your eyes.

Open the laptop and clicked on the app he opened countless times before, he searched over the monitors to find your figure.

and there you are, lying on your bed, wearing a silver-white nightgown this time.

Your chest rose and fell at a steady pace, your facial expression was calm.

You looked divine in his eyes, like a goddess.

But his gaze moved down, to the place the strap of the nightgown fell down your shoulder, and down to the part of your skirt riding up, revealing your thigh.

König felt his body was consumed by fire, burning fiercely at the sight of you, even though you looked serene, the dirty thoughts about you were unstoppable in his mind.

How eager he wanted to kiss your soft lips, grab your thighs and ram into your pussy with an unforgivable pace, and left a bite mark on your shoulder until you cry out his name loudly.

He looked at the monitor again, you hadn't moved an inch, dead asleep because it was already midnight at the moment.

He hesitantly put his hand over the obvious bulge his cock made in his cargo pants. You wouldn’t discover if he pleasured himself this time, right?

but when he touched his shaft over his pants, he knew it was unable to stop right now.

He quickly pulled his cargo pants to his knee, letting his cock spring out with how hard it already was, the precum made a mess to his palm when he started moving his hand at a quick speed.

“Hmm...so gut...” He closed his eyes, recalling the memory of you falling to your knees, pink lips swallowing his cock, and he could almost hear the squelch sounds when you took him deep down in your throat.

but his breath hitched and a stuttered groan left him when he opened his eyes again.

You stared right at him through the camera, the corner of your eyes crinkling as your lips formed a cheeky grin.

Oh, he was so fucked up.

He watched you reached your arm, opened the bedside drawer, and took out your phone.

His work phone rang a few seconds later.

“Good evening, sir.” Your happiness was obvious in your voice. “What are doing now? Hmm?”

“I’m sorry, Schatz...” König moaned out, but his hand only became quicker once your voice flowed into his ear.

“Don’t feel sorry, colonel.” You cooed, and his eyes were glued to your body when you sat up on the edge of your bed, eyes never left the camera.

“Just came back from a tough mission, right? I know, don’t worry.” Your leg are placed over the other. “Let me help you, okay?”

“Bitte... I need you, h-help me...” König’s hand shakily holding his phone, and he knew he must sounded pathetic.

“I missed you so much, König. You know that?” You shift your hips a little bit, pulling your nightgown higher, and higher until fully expose your lacy black underwear to him.

“How much I want to lay my hands on you..... feel your cock twitch under my touch......”

You opened your legs. König can see it clearly even through the monitor, your panties were already been soaked by your arousal, making a darker spot at the clothes cling to your pussy, and he moaned out at the sight.

“When you come to the office in the daytime, what should I do to you as my trophy? Should I make you lick all my juices when I sit on your face, making your hood dampen by them? Or should I bring you a collar with my name on it, and make you mine forever?”

König already felt like he was about to cum, too long without having any relief, without seeing your pretty face and hearing your sugary words,making his orgasm build up much faster than usual.

“Ja! Make me yours! Bitte... Mach mich zu deinem...verlass mich nicht...ahh” (Make me yours...don’t leave me)

He tumbled over the edge with a high pitch whine, lukewarm cum spilled all over his skin and his abdomen, and in his hazy mind, he could only hear your enchanting voice, telling him the thing he wanted to hear the most.

“Good...So good for me. Now, ready for your punishment, yeah?”

#könig #konig x reader #könig x reader #könig x you #konig smut #cod imagine #female pronouns

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artificial-transmutations · 2 years ago

Text

Visiting the dentist

Rodrigo was really not looking forward to this day. He had a dentist appointment today and really didn't want to go - but his tooth ache was getting worse every day.

He hated going to the dentist with a passion. Everything about it was just painful or disturbing. No one should be allowed to operate a fricking drill inside his mouth! Even imagining the noise, it would produce made the hairs on his neck stand up in terror.

Standing in the cold winter air in front of the dentist's office made the pain in his mouth even worse, but he struggled whether to enter or just screw it and drive home immediately.

It was no use - on a rational level he knew the pain would only get worse. He sighed and entered the dental office. It was warmer in there, which was good. After hanging up his coat, he didn't actually have to wait long. There were no other patients in the waiting area, which was probably because of the time of day. Rodrigo was an author, so he had the luxury of being able to make appointments like this when other people were at work.

He was a little surprised though, as the person who entered the room after him was not the old woman who was torturing his teeth the last time, but a young and reasonably attractive man, who immediately shook his hand. Rodrigo could very much imagine that man not in a doctors coat but on a beach somewhere, just standing and looking good.

"Hi! I'm Garret, how are you feeling today?"

"Fine", Rodrigo lied, and added: "What happened to Dr. Shaffer?"

"Oh, she retired - actually two years ago! You haven't been here for a while?" Garret answered with a warm smile.

Rodrigo shook his head. "No. To be quite honest I don't like the dentist very much. Not you in particular Dr..."

"Just Garret is fine", Garret said.

"Dr. Garret.", Rodrigo continued, "But the whole place just gives me the creeps."

"No worries!" Garret laughed. "I don't know too many people who actually enjoy visiting the dentist. So, Rodrigo, what brings you to us today?"

Rodrigo didn't know if he was comfortable with the doctor being so first-name-basis with him but went along with it anyway. "Right, so, my teeth are aching, and it's really painful by now. I probably should have come sooner, but,..."

Garret interrupted him. "No worries. Let's just have a look and fix you up. Please get on the chair and open your mouth."

Rodrigo gulped and sat on the clean black faux leather dentist chair. This is where the hell began.

Garret carefully probed around in Rodrigos mouth, using his gloved hand to do so. After a while, he sighed and said:

"Well, there's a whole lot of caries in there I'm afraid. I can start to remove it right away, but it won't be pleasant."

"Ugh." Was all that Rodrigo was able to get out.

"There is another alternative, though. It's a bit more costly but it comes with additional perks. We can fix your teeth entirely painlessly by a new procedure. You will be better than new!"

"Painless sounds good. Okay, I'll take it. What do I have to do?"

"Great choice, Rodrigo. This procedure is really quick. Please take off your shirt."

That struck Rodrigo as a strange request, but everything was better than the drill. So, he exposed his unimpressive white chest, while Garret entered a few commands into his computer.

"Alright, this will only take a few moments. Have fun!" Garret smiled. Rodrigo couldn't help but notice the tent in the doctors trousers. Did he get a boner for some reason?

Suddenly, Rodrigo felt warm. The pulsating pain in his mouth ebbed almost instantly, but the changes did not stop there! His skin cleared up and his face grew a tiny bit squarer than before. Then, the changes continued from his face downward. Suddenly, his arms inflated with muscles, as well as his chest. His shoulders widened and his frame became way more masculine. It didn't expand to bodybuilder-like proportions, but he became way beefier than before. His abs became more defined as well. On his chest, a slight coating of hair grew in, and his skin tone became a healthy shade of tanned pink. Inside his pants, he could feel his pelvis growing wider and packing on meat, as well as his legs, which became stronger and fitter as well. Even his feet expanded a good one or two shoe sizes!

Last, but finally not least, Rodrigo felt his cock increase in size as well. It felt like getting hard, and he probably also was - but the final size of his stiff cock was considerably larger than what he measured before.

In just a few minutes, Rodrigo had been improved all over - including, but certainly not limited to, a whole new set of teeth, which were new and healthy as they could be. Full of wonder, he looked up to Garret, only to find that the other man had gotten rid of his own shirt as well and bent down to him, smiling and asking:

"Care to try out the full package before you leave?"

#male transformation #muscle transformation

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i-am-beckyu · 2 months ago

Text

Patience is a Virtue and Trust is Earned

A continuation of my Christmas fic One Small Gift

AYOOOOO! 3RD YEAR IN A ROW I'VE WRITTEN A CHRISTMAS FIC! LETS GO! I've been writing this fic on and off for almost a year ever since posting the first fic and got a few people wanting a sequel so congratulations!! You got your wish!!!

I recommend reading the first fic if you haven't already as this fic references plot that may not make sense without context so please consider reading it first before reading on. I'm gonna ramble on at the end of this fic but without further ado, MERRY CHRISTMAS AND ENJOY!!!

cw: fear, lying, panic and anxiety, hidden identity, magic and a TONNE of fluff and whimsey!

word count: 9180

Disclaimer! This story is based on the characters of the Dream SMP and not the real life content creators. Anything that occurs in this story is purely fiction and should be treated as such. Thank you.

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Borrowers.

Tiny scavengers that take human things for survival.

Well, that’s what all the articles say.

Wilbur leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms over his head. His back popped from the unhealthy way he’d been hunched over his computer for the last few hours, but he hardly noticed as he scrolled the internet.

“Yet another useless article that tells me nothing about how to actually coax one out.” He sighed dejectedly.

Now you are absolutely right, he should be studying right now while at University and not googling Borrowers again for the millionth time, but it’s not like he wanted to risk doing it at home. No way was he going to jeopardise having Tommy leave.

It had been a few weeks since Wilbur had met the young boy that fateful Christmas Eve and he was positive they hadn’t left. Not when he was now able to recognise the tell tale signs of a scavenger living in his walls. But the man was getting a tad testy about not being able to speak to them in person.

Over and over Wilbur had to tell himself that Tommy trusted Santa Claus, not him. If they ever got a tiny hint that he knew of their existence, then that would be it and the boy would be gone. If a Borrower was seen, the rule they set for themselves was they had to leave no matter the circumstances. Staying after being seen was an absolute no no and never worth the risk. The articles had been very extensive on that point.

His other option to try and unknowingly lure the boy out wasn’t going very well either. Every idea seemed either too obvious, or too dangerous to attempt. (No he definitely did not consider using a mouse trap…)

Tommy was smart enough to avoid those anyway.

But he couldn’t ignore the growing urge to speak to them despite how foolish it would be to do so. It’s not like he could just walk straight up to Tommy’s wall and be like: “Hi I’m Wilbur but you already know that and I know you’re living in my walls. Sorry for ruining your house and kidnapping you haha.”

…

Yeah that would definitely send Tommy packing.

So like anyone does when they’ve run out of ideas, Wilbur rushed to the internet and started doing his research.

Borrowers- who are they, and how to befriend one.

Surprisingly, it seemed there were definitely people who knew about them. The few articles proof enough; but no one seemed to know anything further or wanted to speak up about how they knew what they did. The few authors or bloggers he’d emailed ended up ghosting him when asked to elaborate or rudely shut him down (looking at you PandasCanPVP) and though it did make sense they didn’t answer his questions; protect the borrowers and their code etc, it was still damn frustrating that no one was open to helping him.

He’d at least done a few things to aid Tommy a bit more. He left more food out for longer than required and on the lower shelves so the blonde didn’t have to go to such lengths for a meal, and he’d creatively turned an unused draw into a junk draw and filled it with a bunch of mismatched items with multiples of each so that Tommy didn’t have to worry about him getting suspicious. (He definitely did not smile when he counted 6 paper clips instead of 7)

But there wasn’t really anything more he could do in terms of coaxing Tommy out. Wilbur just had to hope that either his message as Santa got through to him, or that he’d catch sight of Tommy one day and have an opportunity to acknowledge his existence. He hoped for the first of the two, but he’d take either to just make progress with the boy at all.

At least he had peace of mind they were doing better now then they had been before Christmas Eve. Niki was an absolute legend for helping him make all those tiny gifts. So yes he owed Nicki a massive favour when he absolutely bamboozled her for showing up outside her front door in the middle of the night and begged her for help to make tiny clothes for Tommy without explaining what for and why he needed them done that night. And yes he’d had to suck it up Christmas Day when he was tired as hell from working through the night to do it, but not for a second did Wilbur regret it when he knew how happy those gifts would have made the Borrower child.

It took everything in him not to tell his family about the encounter too, not wanting to risk the blonde hearing him, but it was for the best. One day it was going to pay off and then he could properly apologise for what he had done and get Tommy home.

Even if it meant he’d never really get to know the little guy, he would do it!

And that was a promise.

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This Wilbur guy was weird.

Did he have any reasons to back that statement up?

NOPE!

Wilbur was just decidedly a wrong-un and that was a good enough reason for him to accept.

Tommy had been finding his time in Wilbur’s walls a lot more pleasant now that he had some proper supplies. Santa really did spoil him rotten with all the extra gifts and was making getting by so much more achievable than what he had been previously. Even before his kidnapping, living in the forest certainly did not come with quite the same number of luxuries that living in a Human Beans house did.

For one: Constant food source.

Wilbur was one sloppy guy.

Bean did not seem very keen on putting things away properly before he left the house for hours at a time for this ‘You-knee-verse-it-tea’ thingy he went to for school. Anyone normal would probably think he was a slob, but for Tommy it was the golden ticket to trying foods he’d never even dreamed of! Did you know bread could actually taste good when it wasn’t mouldy?

Wilbur’s house was just a treasure trove of things to borrow from and Tommy had pretty much anything and everything he could ever want here. He still had plans to get back to his nook home, but perhaps it wouldn’t hurt to stay for awhile longer while he figured out where home actually was.

There wasn’t really a rush to leave with all the snow still about anyways. He couldn’t be the bestest Borrower ever if he was frozen solid before he got home, but he couldn’t help but think about what Santa had said.

‘He’s not as scary as you think’

After the whole meeting with the REAL Santa, Tommy hadn’t felt the same. After being so used to the isolation of the forest, physically talking to someone that wasn’t an animal or a tree had left the Borrower a tad empty. He’d spoken to someone, and they had spoken and listened back. The candy cane card sat in front of his bed and every day Tommy would wake up and reread the message and reminisce about that fateful night.

It seemed bonkers to the boy, the idea of actually speaking to another Human Bean, but Santa’s kindness and words seemed to ring loud in his head. He’d been longing to talk to someone again for so long, and after observing Wilbur all this time; the Bean hadn’t done anything to suggest that they were a bad person. Believing that Santa was telling the truth wasn’t hard, but the thought of willingly revealing himself? Well it was easier said than done.

Because what if Santa was wrong?

What if Wilbur was kind to other Beans but looked at him and decided he was more of a ‘Tommy shaped pet’ instead of an actual person? Just what would he do when he held all power over him? He would be powerless to stop them and could quite easily end off worse than where he started.

Tommy tried to shake the thoughts away before he thought too hard about it.

Wilbur would never catch him.

That wasn’t going to happen if he could help it.

Speak of the devil and they shall appear, as the sound of faint keys being slid into a lock as it clicked, signalled the return of said Bean. The man gently opened and shut the door as they sighed before walking into the kitchen, as Tommy listened intently to their routine.

Put their bag down on the table. Open and close the fridge Shuffle through the cupboards for something to eat. Take out a box of half eaten crackers. Eat one and toss the rest on the bench for later.

Move into the bedroom to relax and close the door with a soft-

‘Click’

Tommy grinned mischievously to himself.

Now was his time to shine.

It might be foolish to any other Borrower to take food while a Bean was actively awake and home, but Tommy had seen Wilbur do this enough times to know now that that man was not going anywhere for at least another 20 to 40 minutes while they de-stressed their day away watching Tikky Toks on their phone, and there was no way he was wasting the opportunity to get food while it was easy access on the bench right now.

Silently, Tommy grabbed his hook and borrowing bag as he made his way through the maze of walls to the kitchen outlet. Just a quick trip and Dinner would be acquired.

Easy.

With little effort, Tommy slipped the electrical cover off the outlet to the kitchen, double checking the coast was clear before making a move straight for the crackers.

“Ugh, Seaweed again?” Tommy scrunched his nose up at the obnoxious packaging.

He really shouldn’t be complaining about the easy borrow, but the blonde knew there were BBQ flavoured ones up on the high shelf he couldn’t reach. Stupid Wilbur gatekeeping his favourite snacks. Okay, unknowingly sure, but come on; Seaweed? The same stuff fish eat? Yuck.

Secretly the boy actually didn’t mind them too much but it does get a bit much eating the same thing 5 nights in a row. Better plan a supply trip to the high shelves next time Wilbur’s out to get stocked up with a bit more variety Tommy decided, as he opened his bag and stored a broken up cracker.

As he gathered up his borrowings, the unusual pangs of an instrument in pain sounded down the hall. Tommy gasped as he sped up his movements before grabbing his hook and hastily making his way down to the ground. Another few pangs of an off note sounded through the walls as Wilbur messed with his guitar strings.

Looked like it was dinner and a show tonight!

Lady Life’s music of the Forest was good and all, but Tommy never knew music like Wilbur’s even existed till he got to experience it one night. It was just like tonight, Wilbur in the other room with Tommy borrowing before the man started doing what was called ‘tuning the guitar’ to get the instrument in the right key.

Tommy thought he’d been destroying the poor instrument until they started playing a song he didn’t know. The brunette had talent and listening to them play felt like a private concert just for him. It wasn’t long before Tommy had crossed the kitchen and was back in the walls to Wilbur’s bedroom, nestled atop the Bean’s shelf out of sight in a discarded Beanie.

The soft strum of the guitar filled the room and Tommy found himself relaxing to the constant rhythm. It was easy to just let himself drift and sway with the melody. The way it put him at ease was almost hypnotic, but the boy found he didn’t care if it meant he could indulge in it forever.

Wilbur had been working on this song for awhile and it had quickly become one of his favourites. There were many times he had wanted nothing more than to cheer and clap whenever the Human Bean had finished playing, but the lingering fear of being caught was ever present in the boy's mind. This however didn’t seem to defer his ever growing loneliness.

‘Would it be so bad if he were to talk to Wilbur?’

‘What if he was one of the so-called good Beans?’

‘What if he had a chance to make a friend?’

Tommy peaked over the edge of the shelf down to where Wilbur was busy absorbed in his playing. How would he even approach them? It’s not like he could just walk out into the open and be like: ‘Hi I’m Tommy and I’ve been living in your walls ever since you kidnapped me and using all your stuff. Want to be friends?’

…

Yeah that’s definitely going to result in him winding up in a jar or something.

If only Santa Claus was still here. It was his suggestion to befriend them in the first place so he’d probably know exactly what to say and do.

Wait, THAT WAS IT!!!

Why didn’t he think of this sooner? Why not just ask Santa what to do! It made perfect sense! He’s a Bean and talks to them all the time so obviously he would know exactly how he could approach them!

Tommy crept back into the walls and quickly ran off in the direction of the house's study.

He had a letter to write.

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“Okay, Dear Santa…” Tommy said out loud as he began to write in his best handwriting.

As soon as he’d found an unused marker in the study, Tommy had been quick to fashion it into one his size from the red tip. His hands had been stained red, but red was the poggest colour ever so he didn’t mind. He had gone to start writing a letter with some borrowed paper back in his home that night, but quickly realised Santa probably wouldn’t be able to read his letter if the letter was written in his regular handwriting- AKA too small to read with Santa’s bad eyesight from being old. This would require a bigger piece of paper and writing with his Big Man writing skills!

That also meant needing a bigger piece of paper and room to write it which meant waiting for Wilbur to leave and that took far too long with it being a Sunday. Tommy had had to wait HOURS for Wilbur to leave to do the grocery shopping, but at least it meant he’d be out for awhile and the Bean had left the kitchen window open, so it was a good day to enjoy some fresh air, albeit if it was a bit cold still and windy.

So with his new marker in hand and a few sheets of Wilbur's scrap pieces of paper from the Kitchen, Tommy now had everything he could possibly need to write his letter.

“Dear Santa.”

…

“---Dear Santa?”

… … …

“Dear Santaaaaaaaa UGHHH WHY IS THIS SO HARD!?”

Well, everything but the right words…

“It shouldn’t be this difficult!” The boy complained, as he crossed out another attempt at writing.

“Dear Santa, so you know how you said to talk to Wilbitch? How exactly do I do that?”

Tommy groaned as he furiously scribbled over the dear santa line before flopping himself on top of the stack of papers. He had been trying to write this letter for 15 minutes and he was getting frustrated. He just didn’t know how to start the letter.

Get straight to the point or ease into?

Is there even a way to write a letter correctly?

6 year old Beans do this for goodness sake!

He just wanted to ask for the best way to approach Wilbur without the worst occurring. He knew the Beans schedule so he could probably work out a good time to talk to them based on their mood but he also still had to get over the idea of willingly exposing himself and that he definitely needed Santa’s help with. Not to forget to mention he still had to thank Santa for all his gifts too! He honestly couldn’t thank him enough for what he had done and the Borrower wanted the old man to know that.

Perhaps just being honest would be the best way to write this? Get it all down in one go and out in the open so he and Santa were completely on the same page. It was at least worth a shot. Wilbur would be back soon and he needed to get something written before that. With a little more internal deliberation, Tommy took a deep breath, and began to write.

Line after line the Borrower wrote his letter- as well as stopping to rest his aching hand as the letter grew longer letting the words flow as best he could. It wasn’t perfect, but then again he added pictures and doodles to make it better so he’s pretty sure that evens it out.

The last thing he needed to do was address the letter to Santa and get it to the letterbox. With his best precision skills, Tommy folded the letter in half and wrote on the front in his best writing.

TO: SANTA

NORTH POLE

Once he was done, Tommy stepped back to admire his handy work.

It was a bit wonky and anything but fancy, but for the first letter he’s ever written, it wasn’t too bad for a giant letter written by a Borrower.

Now all that was left was to deliver it. The boy quickly put his marker away into his borrowing bag and cleaned up the stack of papers back into a neat pile like how he found it, discarding any of his first bad attempts in the bottom of the bin where Wilbur wouldn’t find it, before moving to the window with the letter in tow.

Now the best way to get the letter to Santa would be to post it and Tommy had seen some Human Beans put letters in their letter box before on the big black box, and then they were taken to be delivered like magic, so that made the most logical sense to him. He’d have to go outside to send it, but if he went now and waited till the sun went down, he would be able to scale the letterbox under the cover of darkness and do it with less risk.

Tommy set the letter down beside him as he prepared to descend from the window sill to the outside world. The wind had picked up a little bit, but the Borrower was confident in his abilities to scale down the wall without any issues. Just like climbing up and down the trees back in the forest. Hook in, and descend down. Piece of cake.

Once he was sure his hook was secure, Tommy gathered up the letter in one arm before raising his other to shield his eyes from the setting sun, basking in the serenity of the afternoon as a chilly breeze blew through his golden curls.

Tommy exhaled a content sigh. He missed watching the sunset through the trees of the forest, the soft music of trees swaying and birds chirping as they did their birdie things. Hopefully he’d be reunited with his old nook and could enjoy them like he once did again soon. His letter was sure to fix everything.

Santa would fix everything.

Tommy gently closed his eyes to savour the feeling one last time, but the boy lingered for just a moment too long as a strong gust of wind was all it took to throw the Borrower off balance and snatch his letter from his grasp, sending it flying off with the wind.

“NO!” The blonde shouted, watching as his letter drifted left and right off into the distance.

It was almost magical in a sense, as he watched how it danced through the air and Tommy had to wonder, what if that was intentional. Santa had managed to do things he didn’t think possible with his magic, so perhaps he knew when letters were addressed to him and sent a magic wind to collect it for him?

Yeah that made sense! Good old Santa Claus looking out for his favourite Borrower! Prime he should have thanked Santa more in his letter.

Satisfied with coming to this conclusion, Tommy packed up his gear before heading back to the walls for a well deserved rest; blissfully unaware of the true whereabouts of his letter as it drifted through the wind over buildings and roads, before finally flying straight into a certain brunettes face on his way back from the shops.

“What on Earth?!” Wilbur grabbed at the piece of paper from his face prepared to throw it away before abruptly coming to a stop to read the bright, red scrawl across the front.

“Okay, interesting spelling.” Wilbur examined the poorly addressed letter.

It was obviously a lost Christmas letter written on what looked like sheet music from some kid judging by the spelling and array of doodles. Little faces in the O’s to make it look like Santa, but obnoxiously written in capital letters to make it stand out. It made him think of Tommy and how he went into all the finer details of his life that he couldn’t help but opt to read the childish letter and pique his growing curiosity.

Dear Santa

Hi, it's Tommy! TommyInnit the Borrower you spoke to on Christinimass Eve. I’m sure I don’t need to explain which Tommy to you being the most amazing Tommy to exist ever but anyways I’m writing this letter to ask for your help.

Firstly, thank you for all the pogger gifts. They’re all so AWESOME so thank you! (Like seriously, you are the Greatest Man alive- After me of course >:3 )

Anyways, the reason I sent you this letter. You know Wilbitch Wilbur? The Human Bean that kidnapped me? Well I’ve decided to be the bigger man and befriend him despite him kidnapping me and destroying my home (You know it’s still in his living room slowly dying? Weirdo).

Thing is, I don’t really know how to do that. I know you said I can trust him, but I’m still scared of what he might do to me if he finds out I’ve been using and taking his stuff. I know his schedule by heart at this point and wait till he leaves to get anything done outside the walls, but ever since talking to you I’ve felt so lonely. I loved talking to you but I know I can’t do that with you all the time so I’m willing to give the Bean a chance.

Do you have any ideas for how I can talk to him?

Thank you for your help and if you do this I won’t even ask for a Christmas present this year!!! Seriously I won’t!!! I would just like a friend.

From the coolest Borrower ever,

-Tommy

P.S. You’re the best.

Wilbur couldn’t believe his eyes.

It- It was a letter to Santa, from Tommy.

His Tommy.

This was it! This was his in, his chance!!!

Wilbur carefully folded the letter back in half and slipped it into his trench coat pocket before hurrying home, formulating a plan of action the whole way. Finally he had a shot to befriend Tommy and there was no way he was going to waste it.

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Waiting.

Waiting..

More waiting…

Great. Just great.

Wilbur couldn’t help but keep his eyes glued to the clock on the class room wall. His leg bounced in anticipation as the minutes ticked by to the end of the day. He should really be listening to his lecturer, but it was almost impossible to do so when all the uni student could think of was getting home as quickly as possible.

The only way to catch Tommy would be by surprise, and to do that would be to break his schedule.

Wilbur couldn’t lie and say he didn’t love a well structured schedule. It was the only way he found he really ever got anything done and if sticking to his timed out plan was the way to do that, then so be it. Sometimes that meant postponing other things like hangouts and was a pain, but right now it was his ticket to meeting one Borrower.

His Plan- Get home an hour earlier than normal by skipping study and hope to catch Tommy in the open.

Okay, so yes the whole plan was just one big gamble. It’s not like he got home at exactly the same time every day so he doubted Tommy was going to be out borrowing still even if he was home early, but it’s the best idea he’s got. The letter said Tommy knew his schedule so being early was rarity for him. It’s not going to hurt to give it a try.

He’ll either see Tommy, or he won’t.

Wilbur idly traced the words of Tommy's letter as he sat and waited for his lecturer to signal the end of class. So much energy and bright smiles were hidden beneath the red writing and he wanted to know it all.

After what felt like an eternity, his lecture finally ended and the brunette wasted no time in gathering up his things and racing out the door. He didn’t really need to sprint home, especially given that the roads were still a bit icy, but there was no time to waste.

It only took a matter of minutes for him to reach the end of his street, huffing and panting. He took his time walking down to his house allowing himself to catch his breath and recompose himself for the task at hand.

This was a stealth operation. No loud noises allowed.

Wilbur treaded lightly up to his front door, taking out his keys holding the key chains tight to prevent any jingling sounds before slipping the key in the lock. He turned the key as slowly as he dared, opening the door in a similar manner, before poking his head inside the door frame, eyes immediately looking to spots he thought the small borrower child might be hiding.

No signs of Tommy.

Wilbur crept into the hallway, closing the door behind him with a loud click. “Shoot.” he muttered before slapping a hand over his mouth sharply, before realising his mistake as he cringed at the slight stinging pain now blooming across his jaw.

‘Don’t talk, you idiot!’ Wilbur internally chastised himself.

Ignoring his first blunder, Wilbur quietly shuffled across the carpet to peek into the living room. Nothing appeared out of place, and Tommy’s spot on the book shelf remained as empty as ever.

‘Not here,’ Wilbur thought as he turned and tiptoed across the hallway. ‘Try the kitchen. Just slow and steady, keep quiet, move slow and steady and- ‘CREAKKKKKKK’ An old floorboard groaned loudly as it took the man’s weight.

‘So much for stealth.’

Holding onto a sliver of hope he hadn’t messed up, Wilbur peered into the kitchen. Just like the living room, everything remained untouched and just the same as ever. Wilbur sighed heavily, dropping his bag loudly in defeat. If Tommy had been here, there was no way he hadn’t heard that floorboard move.

Resigning himself to his failed efforts, Wilbur didn’t bother to stay quiet as he trudged into the kitchen defeated. He flung the kitchen cupboard open, grabbing the BBQ crackers from the top shelf cracking the package open. He then grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and his bag from the floor before moving off to his room.

So his one and only plan didn’t work, now what was he going to do? Guess he’d have to try and think of another time to break his schedule that wouldn’t compromise his study life a different way.

The brunette sighed as he grabbed his phone, chucking on one of his favourite playlists and booting up his Bluetooth speaker. Might as well do some study since he skipped his study block back at the campus. It was as he sat down his stomach suddenly grumbled.

Oh, right- the crackers.

Wilbur rose from his chair and moved through the halls before abruptly coming to a stop and hiding behind the kitchen door. There was movement from the BBQ Crackers packet. The man’s breath got stuck in his throat as he watched a tiny blonde boy emerge from the packaging with a cracker looking extremely pleased with themself, as they set it down next to a little blue bag.

Tommy.

Wilbur couldn’t help but stare as he watched the boy work. He should have known that Tommy would come out for food. It never occurred to him that he would try and get the discarded crackers when they were left out on the bench. It was dangerous for the Borrower considering he was home and could be seen, but it was easy access for the boy so of course the risk would be worth it.

With careful precision to avoid the creaky floorboards, Wilbur crept forward. Said blonde had crawled back into the Crackers packet and was distracted. He didn’t want to scare Tommy away, but the boy was far too close to the electrical socket and he’d determined it was a wall entry/exit a while ago. The last thing he wanted was for Tommy to bolt.

It wasn’t till he was about a step or two away that the Borrower popped back out of the bag with another cracker in tow.

It was now or never.

“Ahem,” Wilbur cleared his throat and tried not to feel guilty, as he watched the Borrower on the bench flinch, stumbling back in surprise. “Hi there.”

Wilbur remained completely still as he watched in anticipation for what the blonde would do next. Tommy’s face seemed to morph 100 different ways all at once before stopping at terrified as they processed the situation. The pure terror on the Borrowers face showed he knew there was no escaping this, as their eyes darted around trying to formulate the next best course of action despite their seemingly ‘dire’ situation, but Wilbur continued to remain calm.

He needed Tommy to understand he wasn’t in danger.

The silence stretched on for a few more moments, only broken by the sound of the cracker Tommy had been clutching to his chest, snapping into several pieces. The borrower was so frightened for being caught, he’d subconsciously been clutching the cracker tighter and tighter till it snapped.

“Can I help with that?” Wilbur asked, pointing to the broken cracker in the boy's lap as he stepped closer.

Tommy was fast to react. The blonde sprung to his feet, cracker and equipment forgotten as they bolted for the electrical socket.

“No wait, STOP!” Wilbur cried as lunged forward to stop the boy. Before he even realised what he’d done, he’d swept the Borrower up in his hand, the boy now kicking and screaming in his grasp.

“LET ME GO!!!” he shrieked as they dug and scratched their nails into Wilbur's skin.

Tommy felt the way the hand flexed as he did so, but his attempts weren’t enough to get the man to budge. This was only the second time he’d ever been picked up by a human, and it was nothing like the way Santa had treated him. It felt far too tight and confining and Tommy wanted nothing more than to be free of it. Tommy always knew that Human Beans could be fast, but he never realised just how fast they actually might be.

His futile attempt to make it back to the walls had been wishful thinking at best. Now the very real threat of his head being popped off for being caught stealing the Bean's food had his heart hammering out of his chest. He was going to continue his plans of bloody murder, but as his stomach lurched and he was lifted up and away from the counter, all attempts died off as he was brought closer to his impending doom's face. He couldn’t suppress the small whimper that slipped as his body shook as the Bean seemingly studied every inch of him, before their eyebrows furrowed.

“Hey, hey it’s alright.” Wilbur reassured. “I’m not going to hurt you Tommy.”

Tommy’s blood ran cold.

How did he know his name?

No, no he couldn’t have. He’d been careful. Never seen, not once. There was no way Wilbur could have known he was here let alone his name right? Right???

“How the heck do you know my name?” he spat.

Did this mean they knew he was here? Had the Bean been trying to lure him out this entire time just so they could trap him and punish him for taking their stuff?

“Ahhh so about that..” Wilbur began before quickly adjusting his grip and reached into his coat pocket, pulling out a small, thin piece of paper with red scribbled all over it. “I got your letter. It didn’t quite make it to the North Pole I’m afraid.”

Tommy couldn’t believe his eyes.

It was his letter to Santa.

All his worst fears were confirmed in the Beans grasp. If Wilbur had his letter then that meant he DEFINITELY had read it and would know everything!! As if magic wind was a real thing! Prime, why did he think writing to Santa when it was no longer Christmas would be a good idea?

“Hey, hey it’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you Tommy, I just want to talk honestly.” Wilbur tried to reassure as he placed the letter down. The boy only shook his head in response, trembling as they squeezed their eyes shut expecting the worst.

“Okay, I know you’re scared Tommy, but I’ve read your letter, and I just want to help you. You can trust me I-”

“WHY SHOULD I TRUST YOU?!” The boy shrieked. “YOU SNATCHED ME OFF THE TABLE AND ARE HOLDING ME AGAINST MY WILL!”

“Well yes I know, and I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to grab you, I just didn’t want you to run away!”

“If you’re really sorry then you’ll let me go!” Tommy pleaded, tears starting to well up in his eyes. “Please just let me go.”

Wilbur sighed, realising his terrific plan to speak to Tommy wouldn’t get very far with their current circumstances. If the roles were reversed, he’d be rightly terrified out of his mind too. You’d think after all his research on Borrowers, this is something he’d be aware of. Looking around the kitchen, he knew he couldn’t just put them down on the bench and risk the boy making another run for it, and instead turned and headed for the dining room table, despite the boy's sniffling cries.

“Tommy, I’m going to put you down now.” Wilbur explained, trying to be gentle as he sat down on one of the wooden chairs. “I promise I won’t hurt you and you can leave straight after, I just want to talk.”

The boy didn’t speak as he brought his hands down to the wooden surface and slowly released his grip. The blonde immediately wriggled out from his fingers and dropped to the table with a slight thud, but was just as quickly scooting away from his hands now he was free. Wilbur brought his hands away and slipped them under the table into his lap to be less intimidating, but could see Tommy was still highly on edge as they tried to gain distance. He was breathing heavily, eyes fixated on him with a terrified expression, seemingly knowing that he had no hope of getting away in the Beans presence.

He felt bad for putting them in such a vulnerable position, but if he wanted any hope to get him home, then they needed to talk properly- face to face.

“There,” Wilbur said, retracting his hands placatingly. “See, you’re fine.”

Tommy didn’t look particularly convinced, his eyes red from crying and snot running down his nose. Like seriously, who did this guy think he was? After the way he just behaved, why should he trust him?

“Define fine.” The boy snapped hugging himself as he turned away so he didn’t have to face the brunette's constant staring.

Wilbur sighed. Why did he have to be so stubborn? He’s the one that wanted to make friends in the first place.

Wilbur glanced at the letter he’d placed on the edge of the table. Tommy was the one that wanted to talk to him but was just unsure of how to approach him. But instead here he’d come waltzing in and frantically grabbed him without any consideration for how this would make him look. The boy believed Santa when he told him he was a good guy, but any truth in that was gone and rightfully so. In Tommy’s eyes, Wilbur didn’t deserve to be trusted.

How could you trust someone that held your life in their hands?

Wilbur sighed as he knew how to fix this, as much as he didn’t want to admit it, but if he wanted Tommy to trust him then his actions had to match his words.

“Okay so I know I didn’t make the best first impression so how about we start over?” Wilbur tried even slinking down to be a bit lower so he wasn’t looming over him so much. “My names Wilbur and if you need anything you can just ask okay?”

Tommy didn’t reply, even going as far to give him the finger which had the man having to suppress a laugh despite it being fair. He waited for the blonde to speak up a little longer but it didn’t seem the Borrower would be talking any time soon.

Sighing realising this wasn’t going to work, Wilbur stood from the table and walked back to the kitchen. Tommy remained still only glancing a little bit to the side when he heard crackling of plastic, before the heavy foot falls of Wilbur's return signaled he was back before something was put down behind him, and a chair was dragged out and around from the table facing backwards.

“So I don’t blame you for not trusting me. I should have realised how my actions would have affected you so I won’t keep you any longer.” Wilbur stepped back from the table and around to the other side where Tommy could see him and towards the hallway back to his room.

“I’ve uh- left the chair next to the table so you can get down with your hook and things, and I promise I won’t go looking for you, but if you ever need anything- please don’t hesitate to ask.” Wilbur took a deep breath and exhaled as he rubbed the back of his head. “I hope in time, maybe we could be friends.”

After waiting for a reply and receiving none, Wilbur turned and walked into his room, closing the door with a soft click before walking over and flopping onto his bed. He couldn’t force Tommy to trust him. He just had to hope giving them space might change the kids' mind.

The second the Bean was gone, Tommy didn’t hesitate to grab his things and descend down the chair with his hook. He then booked it for the nearest wall entrance he could find and didn’t stop running until he was back in his little room in the walls.

His heart pounded realising how close that had all been and now there was no time to waste.

Hastily he began to load his clothes into his bag and supplies for the journey he had ahead. He couldn’t stay now Wilbur actively knew of his existence. He’d been at the complete mercy of the Bean and that was never going to happen ever again. He kept doing this until he had completely stuffed his pack. As he prepared to leave he made his way to the door and had one final look around at his home for anything he missed.

He couldn't pick up on anything specific, not until his eyes landed on the card from Santa. All those happy days he had gotten from just waking up to a pretty card. His encounter with Santa the best day of his life and the reason he was so comfortable here now at all. The memory felt bitter sweet now though, as he trudged over to the card, picking it up harshly flipping it over for one last read.

Dear Tommy,

It was lovely meeting you and getting

to know your story. I figured you might

like some extra gifts as well to help you

be more comfortable in Wilbur’s walls.

I think you should try talking to him.

You might be surprised.

Sincerely,

Santa Claus

P.S- He’s not as scary as you think.

“Not as scary as you think my ass.” Tommy spat bitterly as he set it back in place.

So what if he’d apologised a bunch of times? That didn’t change the fact he almost hadn’t been freed at all. Sure he’d escaped now, but Wilbur might have just made it look like he was free to go as an act to trick him into feeling guilty enough to stay to catch him later.

But then again, he did apologise a lot and gave him a quick way back down the table. If he really thought about it, he hadn’t looked like he was going to hurt him or anything, just guilty he’d grabbed him in the first place. In fact he hadn’t really done anything besides scare the living daylights out of him by snatching him up.

It was perfectly logical for him to be scared of being grabbed, but apart from that, had the Bean actually done anything wrong? He was just reacting to the situation, and if he had read his letter, then maybe it wasn’t as bad as he thought.

But no that can’t be right? He can’t seriously be considering Wilbur not a threat after all that?

“Ughhhh my head hurts!” He groaned frustratedly before dropping his pack to the floor and flopping head first into his bed. Why do Human Beans never make sense? Tommy curled himself into the fabric squeezing the sock blanket tightly in his grasp. This was all far too much for him to think about right now.

The events of the day finally seemed to catch up to him as he laid there, adrenaline wearing off, replaced with a heavy fatigue. Perhaps sleeping would be better than trying to leave right this second? Who knew when he’d have another chance once he started the move.

Rather than fight it, Tommy soon fell asleep, snuggled in his bed, his thoughts dreaming of what ifs and Wilbur.

༘⋆ ❅ ･:*:｡ ❆ ₊˚ ｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊ ⋆ ⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆

The next day, Tommy had yet to leave.

He’d spent most of the morning mulling over his options and what the best course of action was and was having a hard time making up his mind.

On the one hand, leaving meant he was 100% safe from Wilbur and whatever his plans might be, whether they be good intentions or not. But on the other hand, that meant giving up the space he’d spent so long getting right and traversing the winter terrain without a guarantee of finding a place that was safe to stay in. While the Bean knew of his presence, at least he had a warm bed and didn’t have to worry about frostbite. But of course that still left one problem:

Wilbur.

The more he replayed yesterday's events over in his mind the more he wanted to believe that maybe, just maybe Wilbur was one of the good Beans. It’s not like he’d ever met or interacted with one before he came here. Everything he knew of them came from stories and warnings from his parents about Borrowers getting trapped in Jars and what not, but there was always some truth in stories one way or another.

Still though, he had one thing going for him that no other Bean did. Santa trusted him. And while Tommy may not trust him, (not completely anyways) perhaps there was a way he could test them.

Tommy had his borrowing bag strapped to his back and his hook and rope at his side as he sat perched atop the bookshelf in the living room, watching and waiting for Wilbur to enter. He’d test the Bean. See if he stayed true to his word and be in plain sight of the man and see if he was worthy of his presence. If he tried to catch him or hurt him in any way, all he had to do was get back through the crack in the wall and grab the rest of his things and book it out of there.

The blonde's knee bounced in anticipation. It was one thing trying not to be seen by a being 100x your size, but another to willingly just be waiting in the open for your maybe/maybe not demise to show up. Strange how the last time he stood out here, he did so waiting for Santa happily, but now it felt like he half wanted to throw up as he waited for the brunette to show.

His thoughts must have summoned him, because entered an exhausted Wilbur with a cup of coffee in hand before they plonked themself down on the couch. He took a long sip and sighed before putting the cup down and threw their head back against the couch.

He looked sad. Big dark bags under his eyes and he was frowning as he stared up at the ceiling. Tommy couldn’t help but think that was probably his fault. Seems yesterday's events had affected Wilbur just as much as it had him and he did feel a bit guilty for that. Did he really care that much he’d lose sleep over him?

Only one way to find out.

“Ahem.” Tommy cleared his throat and the Bean jolted up almost immediately, head looking around wildly for the source.

“Hey, up here big man.” The boy called with a wave to down below and clenched his hook tightly with the other hand as the brunette's sweeping gaze snapped up onto him. “Sorry if I- uh startled you.”

“No, no it’s fine, I just- I thought you left.” Wilbur said as he turned himself to be better facing the Borrower without leaving the couch.

“Why would I do that?” Tommy asked even though he knew the answer.

“Well, I don’t know I just thought- I’d scared you away.” Wilbur looked away, staring at his coffee as if it was far more interesting than the boy on his shelf. “I figured you’d have left because of how I- how I um..”

“Grabbed me?” Tommy asked, raising a brow as he did so.

“Yeah… I truly am sorry about that. I never should have reacted like that. I don’t know what I was thinking. I promise I never planned to do anything to you when I did, I just- my hand moved without thinking and yeah. I’m sorry Tommy.”

“It wasn’t particularly nice of you.” Tommy tried to ignore the tingly sensation of phantom hands wrapping around him as he stood up. “I just felt so helpless when you did.”

Wilbur nodded sadly in agreement. “Yeah I can’t imagine what it must feel like for you. Based on what I read in your letter, it must be really hard living at your size when everything is so big.”

“Well I was born this way. I learned to live cautiously to protect myself. You Beans are just too busy thinking of yourselves than about who else might be living out of sight.” Tommy glanced down to Wilbur and noticed how the Bean twiddled their thumbs in their lap, gaze now resting on the table and a familiar piece of paper. His Letter.

“Hey I’ve got to ask,” Tommy started as Wilbur brought his head back up to the shelf. “How did you get your hands on my letter? Last I saw it, it was flying out in the wind randomly to who knows where.”

Wilbur chuckled as he leaned over and picked up the letter carefully to admire the craftsmanship of it once more. “Well, I was walking home from grocery shopping the other day and it kind of just flew into my face. It was by chance that I decided to open it and read it that I noticed the paper was one of my discarded music sheets I use for scrap paper. Kind of connected the dots from there since it was my work and here we are.”

Tommy nodded as he listened. He supposed that made more sense than magic wind, even if the chances of it flying into Wilbur's face were bizarrely low.

“Still a shame it didn’t make it to Santa. I wanted to thank him properly for what he did for me.”

“You could always write him another letter if you want.” Wilbur suggested. “I don’t mind helping you if you like.”

Tommy nodded considering the idea before speaking up. “I think you might have to write to Santa for yourself though. You’ll probably be on his naughty list for a while when I tell him about everything that’s happened.”

Wilbur smiled as he nodded in agreement. “Yeah I deserve that. I’ll have to really work hard to get back on the nice list then won’t I?”

“You sure will. Gonna take a lot to get back in his good books though.”

Wilbur smiled as he set the letter back down and leaned back into the couch. “Do you have any ideas on how I could do that?”

Tommy scratched his head for a moment in thought.

“Well for starters you’d have to be extra nice and always use proper manners like asking before you do something.”

Wilbur nodded as the boy continued. “And you’d have to always announce your presence coming in and out of rooms cause if you don’t that’s just rude.”

Wilbur couldn’t help but chuckle as Tommy kept listing nice specific things off. “Anything else?”

“Annnnd always leave extra food out on the counters- specifically the BBQ crackers and chocolate because that’s how you show you're being extra nice.”

“Right, well it sounds like I’ve got my work cut out for me then.” Wilbur replied as he looked back up to where Tommy stood upon the shelf. The boy seemed rather pleased with himself before he realised he was in sight and timidly stepped back from view.

“I’ve got to ask though, why are you still here? I assumed the last place you’d want to be is anywhere near me and well, yeah.” It was a question that was starting to eat at him as why the Borrower would go against the code and all the other things he had read about not making sense.

“Well initially, I was going to leave straight away, yes. But with all the snow on the ground and not knowing the area, it made the decision of leaving more complicated so I’m giving talking one last shot and then deciding.”

Wilbur smiled as he felt warm that the blonde was at least giving him a chance, even if they had their hesitations. He didn’t blame Tommy for being wary after everything that had transpired but maybe there was still hope to salvage things.

“Hey Tommy, do you think maybe we could start over?” the brunette asked. “I think we got off on the wrong foot and I’d really like to show I mean you know harm.”

Tommy stood back from the shelf edge where he couldn’t see the Bean. This was exactly what he wanted. A chance for the Bean to prove himself and he hadn’t even had to ask.

Wilbur watched the bookshelf nervously waiting for a response. What if he’d over stepped? He didn’t have to wait long for an answer as the blonde came back into view with his arms behind his back, before breaking into a smile.

“Yeah, that would be nice. But don’t even think about putting me in a jar cause I know Santa and Santa will absolutely beat your ass if you do.”

“And why would he do that?” Wilbur smirked teasingly.

“Because,” Tommy stated. “I’m his favourite.”

Wilbur’s heart melted as the boy blew a raspberry at him before pulling a bunch of different faces. In a way, he guessed it was true.

Tommy was his favourite.

And he wasn’t going to mess this opportunity up a second time.

༘⋆ ❅ ･:*:｡ ❆ ₊˚ ｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊ ⋆ ⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆

In the days to come, Wilbur and Tommy began to slowly get to know each other.

Albeit at a distance with Tommy still hiding on shelves and behind items that he was sort of a discombobulated voice, but it was a start and made the Borrower feel safer.

Wilbur didn’t mind in the slightest as they were actually talking and making progress! If Wilbur thought Tommy had talked a lot on their Santa encounter, well the kid had certainly been holding back as they chatted away about anything and everything they could speak on.

In fact, soon the two were bantering back and forth like they’d been life long friends and it didn’t take long for Tommy to start showing himself on the shelves.

Wilbur was always super cautious around the boy and made sure to give him space, and even gave him extra warning about what he was doing to ease the boy more around his presence. While Tommy initially had his reservations, he was quickly beginning to see what Santa had meant in his card.

Wilbur truly was doing everything he possibly could to show he wanted to help him and be friends and that gave Tommy the confidence to take the next step and actually be in close proximity with the man rather than the safety of shelves.

Eventually, Tommy would tell Wilbur of how he came to be in his apartment and Wilbur would offer to take Tommy back to his home. It didn’t take long for the boy to realise how close he’d actually grown to the Bean and when the time came to actually go, the Borrower would decide that maybe the Forest wasn’t necessarily his home any more.

From there, the two continued to grow closer and eventually table talks turned to movie nights on the couch, to hand cuddles on chilly days. And whenever things got too much, Wilbur gave Tommy the space he needed and one day Tommy realised that Santa was right.

Wilbur wasn’t as scary as he once believed.

In fact, he finally had a friend he could depend on.

Just like he had always wanted.

༘⋆ ❅ ･:*:｡ ❆ ₊˚ ｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊ ⋆ ⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆

Epilogue

Annnnnnnnnnnnd that's a wrap!!!

Thank you so much if you read the whole thing through. It was a lot of fun to write as it's not the kind of topic I see written about very often and especially not in a gt sense so I loved exploring what Santa is to a Borrower that lived outside most of their life never knowing about these things.

HUGE Thank you to @quotemenevervore for beta reading and helping me get unstuck to write the ending!!! Always very thankful for your input and so glad I got this done before Christmas like I planned <3

Thanks again to everyone who's stuck around and continues to enjoy my writing despite all the circumstances of previous creators constantly changing. As times gone on, while I still really enjoy writing these characters, new ideas to use them in the future have certainly been becoming less, so I still fully intend to finish JORNOS but after that's done, I have one more chapter fic I want to post and then I think I might explore some new characters. Dunno yet tbh. Work is being a pain and will probably continue to delay new stuff, but I'm certainly not done yet :3

Anyways that's my last fic for this year so Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year and I'll see you all on the next fic <3

tag list: @local-squishmallow @brick-a-doodle-do @justarandomsloth @veryfunkycheesecake @munchkin1156 @kayla-crazy-stuffs @da3dm @eiscreme135 @orchid-harmony @the-tiny-lurker @colossal-red @nobodywritingao3 @nata2343 @bad-author777 @box-beanz @gracideaviolet @a-xyz-s

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