#build back business from crisis | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dilemmaontwolegs · 4 months

Text

Irresistible || CL16

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!reader Summary: A one night stand comes back to haunt you when your father plans to marry his mother. Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, smut, cheating, time skipping, kind of taboo (future stepbrother) WC: 6.1k F1 Masterlist || One || Two

December 2019

Two years ago you had spent an amazing week in Monaco during a European getaway. It was meant to be a once in a lifetime trip but now you sat opposite your father at the kitchen table in your family home trying to understand what he was saying.

“…the kindest woman. You’ll love her, just like I do.”

He fell in love so now you were expected to leave behind everyone you knew and just start a new life with his new family. You knew he had been happier since the trip but you never would have thought it was because of some long distance relationship. He had kept that to himself for a long time.

“Can’t you just have a midlife crisis like everyone else?” you asked. “Why are you moving us across the world for a stranger?”

“Did you not hear me? Pascale is not a stranger. Please don’t make this harder than it needs to be. I love her.”

Resentment built and you pushed your chair back as you stood up. “You loved mum too, and look how that ended.”

Your father sighed and you immediately felt guilty for the heaviness in that one breath. It wasn’t his fault your mother decided domestic life wasn’t for her and left when you were just a baby. It wasn’t his fault that she met a man who had a motorcycle and flirted with the wrong side of the law. And it certainly wasn’t his fault that they crashed in a high speed police chase when you were 15.

You sank back into your seat and picked at the chipped Formica table top. “I’m sorry, dad.”

A calloused hand from a life of hard work gently patted yours. “It’s a big adjustment, pumpkin, but you said Monaco was a beautiful place. I thought you would be happy.”

“It was, but I’ll never see my friends.”

“I’m not saying you can replace them, but you’ll make new ones. And even with the different timezones I’m sure you can make arrangements to video call each other.”

He was making an effort, you could recognise that at least. “Fine. I suppose it won’t be that bad.”

August 2017

All of the streets seemed to look the same, the stonework buildings towering over you as the afternoon sun dipped even further below the mountains that bordered the place. You had no idea which way it was to get back to the hotel and you weren’t going to risk the international roaming charges to use the internet on your phone, you already spent most of your savings on the clothes in the bags that hung from your wrists.

You were too busy looking up and trying to get a sense of direction that you didn’t see the man getting out of his car. Pain flared in your knee as a door slammed into it and you dropped the bags to clutch your leg that throbbed and drew a groan from your lips. It was worse than hitting your funny bone and you grabbed the hood of the car to balance when you nearly teetered over.

“Mon Dieu, est-ce que tu vas bien?”

You couldn’t understand a word he said but the accent was almost enough to make you feel better, until you looked up. The setting sun cast a golden glow around the man and you swore he was more beautiful than the godlike statues you had seen in Rome the week before.

“I, I,” you stammered stupidly as he knelt down beside you and repacked the bags that had fallen to the street. His bright green eyes lingered on the red lace bra and panty set you had spent a small fortune on before he cleared his throat and shoved them in the bag. “I don’t speak French.”

“You should really be watching where you are walking,” he said as he stood up, his accent saturating his words and making the scolding sound sexy. And it was most definitely a scolding. “You could have been hit by a car.”

“I was,” you pointed out as you tested your leg and winced when you put your weight on it.

“I meant one that was driving past. It was a good thing I was parked.” He looked down his nose and shook his head. Somehow this stranger had managed to make you feel guilty for disappointing him, and it started to infuriate you.

“I really don’t think this is all my fault,” you snapped as you swiped your bags back. “This is a footpath, and that is a no parking zone. Maybe you should concentrate more on where you should be driving than how I should be walking.”

You narrowed your eyes at him and he did the same until his lip twitched and a smirk broke out. “You think I am a bad driver?”

You looked at the double yellow lined he was parked over and squared your shoulders. “Does a duck quack?”

He mouthed the question back before he understood what you were implying and laughed as he took a step closer. “I like you, you are funny, and delusional. What is your name, and what are you doing tonight?”

You were still trying to figure out if he had complimented or insulted you when someone called out and stole his attention before you could answer.

“Charles, dépêche-toi!”

You both turned to the group that had arrived, all of the young men looking almost as handsome as he did. They had to be from the same modelling agency, or there was something seriously strong in the water here.

“Well?”

You looked at Charles and found he was still waiting for an answer. “Probably still trying to find my hotel.”

“Funny,” he chuckled before waving his friends off. “Je te rattraperai plus tard.” He took your bags and stuffed them in the backseat of his car before offering his hand. “I can’t have you walking these streets all night, god knows what trouble you could cause.”

“I was doing fine, until you hit me with your car, and now you want to drive me in it? Nuh-uh, I would rather take my chances on foot.”

You stepped around him to get your bags back, or at least you tried to but your aching knee gave out. You would have fallen to the pavement but a strong arm curled around your waist and pulled you against him.

“You could have just asked if you wanted to hold me, biche.”

“Excuse me?” You pushed away from him and gritted your teeth through the pain. “I’m not sure in what world you think that is flirting, asshole.”

Charles threw his head back with a laugh and easily caught up to you, his palm heating the small of your back as he guided you around to face his car again “Biche, not bitch, it’s a cute little deer. I can call you Bambi instead, I quite like that. Unless you want to tell me your name?”

You rolled your eyes, unsure whether the endearment was an improvement at all, but stepped into the car when he opened the door for you. “No thanks, I don’t know if you are some sort of stalker.”

He laughed again before walking around to the driver's seat. “What hotel are you staying in?”

“The Fairmont.”

The flashy car roared to life and you turned to face Charles when his laughter grew. “So you would tell a stalker where you are staying but not your name?”

“That sounds to me like you are admitting you are a stalker,” you shot back with a daring arch of your brow. “Besides, I’m staying with a man that would snap you like a twig if you tried to turn me into a skin suit. I don’t have anything to worry about.”

“Your boyfriend?”

You snorted at the question and shook your head. “My father.”

He smiled at the news as he pulled out into the traffic and drove the short distance to the hotel. Your meandering had only left you two streets away from it so it was probably more of a nuisance to drive you there but Charles didn’t seem to mind.

“Are you enjoying the city?”

“It’s beautiful,” you said with a nod. “It’s almost a shame to leave tomorrow.”

“Have you been to Jimmyz?”

“Not yet.” You had heard of the club but most nights had consisted of a late dinner with your father and then bed. It was actually the first day you hadn’t spent hanging out with him, he had gone to get a haircut that was long overdue after all the travelling and you had used the alone time for a little girl shopping.

“You should come tonight, my friends and I are going and I owe you for hitting you with my car.”

January 2020

Your father thought it would be a good idea for Pascale to come and stay for a week before the big move. She owned a hair studio so it was easy to take some time off and she was due to arrive any moment. He had all but begged you to make an effort with Pascale before leaving for the airport. He had never brought a woman home, or at least while you were there, so it was strange to see how he fussed over the crumbs in the kitchen sink.

You did a quick final inspection through the house but with most of the belongings already sold or shipped off to Monaco there was next to nothing that could make a mess. You only hoped all your things arrived in time at the other end. It was bad enough you were going to be staying with one of your step brothers to begin with but it was only for a few weeks while the renovations on the new house dad and Pascale had bought were finished. He promised that your room would have a view of the ocean and your own bathroom - it was absolutely a bribe but you were fine with that.

The car pulled into the driveway, past the large real estate sign with an unmissable SOLD sticker across it. You had seen a handful of pictures of Pascale on your dad’s phone but when she stepped out of the car you realised they didn’t do her justice. Despite being on multiple planes that never made for a decent sleep, she looked refreshed and even her hair was still in a perfect blowout. She was really pretty, or maybe it was the bright smile she gave your dad when he parked the car.

“Do I look alright, Peter?” she asked as she touched her hair nervously and straightened her blouse.

“It’s not an interview, sweetheart,” he chuckled as he grabbed her suitcase. “You look beautiful.”

August 2017

The club was unlike anything back home. The music seemed to seep into your skin, the bass vibrating in your bones. Even the air was intoxicating with the promise of a night of bad decisions.

“Bambi, I didn’t think you would actually come.”

You turned away from the bar and found Charles drinking in the sight of your short, tight dress. His eyes followed every line, dip and curve of your body and he bit his lip as he dragged them back up to your face. For the price you had paid you were happy it had the desired effect.

With your confidence bolstered you sent him a smirk and grabbed your drink that had been placed down. “Well you did say you owe me, you can start with my drink.”

Charles didn’t look away as he reached into his pocket and stepped closer, his hand reaching past to slap a bill on the bar top. His scent reached you, the cologne inviting you to lean closer and inhale the decadence of vanilla and bergamot. “The usual, please.”

He could have stepped back while his drink was made but he chose to stay close, his eyes flicking down your cleavage to see the red lace set he had been daydreaming about all evening. “How about we get out of here?”

You had fantasised about a summer romance since the trip began, what young woman wouldn’t when they were going to Europe? But you hadn’t been able to conjure a face as handsome as his when you closed your eyes late at night and your hand drifted beneath the blankets. Now you had the opportunity in the palm of your hands and you weren’t going to let it slip from your fingers.

Tipping your head back, you met his green eyes that dared you rise to the challenge. “Lead the way.”

February 2020

You were jet lagged and exhausted when you finally reached your temporary accommodation.

“Charles is just on his way back from work but he shouldn’t be too far away. Make yourself at home, sweetheart,” Pascale said as she helped you with your bags.

The apartment was bare with mostly blank white walls and a few framed pictures of Ferrari cars. It was a typical boy space that was in desperate need of soft furnishings to liven it up, but that wasn’t your problem to deal with.

“He just bought the place so he’s still finding his ‘vibe’,” Pascale noted when she saw you eying up the empty space, the words sounding like they were verbatim and not her own. “But there’s two bedrooms and two bathrooms so you’ll have your own space. The builder said our house will be finished in a few weeks.”

“It’s great, Pascale,” you assured her as you set your bag down on the bed with a long yawn. You were surprised to find it had a floral duvet and a sheet set already made up - something you were sure she had done for you.

She nodded and placed your other suitcase down before leaving, closing the door most of the way. “I’ll let you rest for a bit.”

You woke to voices down the hall and found a blanket had been draped over you at some point.

“Can’t she sleep on Enzo’s couch? I don’t even know her, she could try to sell my things. There have been stranger things done before.”

“Ah-ah, no, and she doesn't even watch racing. Peter said she had no interest in the sport.” Pascale sighed heavily, the same way your father did when he was having to repeat himself. “She’s a lovely young lady, and she’s going to be family so please treat her as such.”

August 2017

“Where are we going?”

Charles just smiled and kept driving through the quiet streets before pulling into a hotel far nicer than the one you were staying in.

“You live in a hotel?”

He laughed and tossed his car key to the valet driver. “No, but I have a roommate who would probably not be very happy with me if we woke him.”

He already had a room and led the way to the elevators with the confidence of a man who had certainly been here before. You didn’t mind, you were hardly a saint, and you knew exactly what you were doing when you dressed for the night out. You knew how you wanted the night to end.

For a man who looked eager to undress you, like he had done with his eyes, he didn’t touch you until the door was firmly closed behind him. But once that door locked shut it was as if the leash he had kept a hold of himself with was dropped and he pinned you against the wall, his lips finding the hollow of your neck.

The temperature in the room seemed to swell as his kiss climbed higher and he finally reached your lips. You moaned at the feel of his hands roaming your body and his tongue slipped past your parted lips when he dragged the zip down your spine.

“J'ai envie de le faire depuis que je t'ai vu pour la première fois. You are so fucking sexy.” [I have been wanting to do this since I first saw you.] He stepped back and watched the material fall away to reveal the tempting red lace he had been dying to see.

Your heart skipped a beat at the hunger in his eyes and you reached behind your back to unclip the bra. It was thrilling to watch the colour of his eyes fade to black as you revealed more skin to him but when you reached for your panties he spurred forward to stop you.

“Mine,” he stated as he brushed your hands aside and hooked his fingers into the waistband instead. Falling to one knee, he dragged the lace down your thighs and let them tangle around your ankles before kissing your hip. Your head fell back against the wall with a thud as he nudged your legs apart and pulled one leg over his shoulder. “What’s my name?”

Your forehead crumpled as his breath warmed your cunt and you buried your hands in his hair to hurry him up, but he was too strong.

“What’s my name?” he repeated.

“Ch-Charles,” you stammered as his fingers teased your entrance without delving further, driving you wild with need.

“Good girl, remember that when I make you scream.”

The words left you drunk and you would have dared him to make good on them but his tongue found your clit and two fingers curled into your cunt. All thoughts left your head while he was knelt fully dressed before you and all too soon his name echoed across the room as he brought you to your first of many highs.

You could barely walk by the time you collapsed on the king bed and your head was spinning from the various positions you had found yourself in. You only bothered to move when a phone vibrated on the bedside table and you reached over to see if it was yours.

Giada: When are you coming home?

“Need a break, Bambi?” Charles teased as he returned from the minibar with a bottle of water, cracking the top off and offering it to you first.

You took the bottle with a grateful smile and swallowed a few mouthfuls to ease your dry throat. “Who’s Giada?”

His eyes flicked to his phone and he grabbed it, quickly replying to the message before tossing it aside and caging you beneath his body. “My roommate. Now, where were we?”

You should have been in a dead sleep but something had woken you. It was an ungodly hour given the darkness that was still outside but it did mean you saw the light of Charles' phone. His soft snores were silenced by the pillow he buried his face in and you took a second to admire the sight of his toned body in the moonlight.

Giada: It’s so hard to sleep without you here. I love you xxx

You slipped out of the bed without waking him and hated how good the ache between your legs felt because of him. You should have known a man like him was bound to have a girlfriend. She was probably a model.

You quickly gathered your clothes and dressed on the way to the door, closing it silently behind you. No one had to know you were even there and in a few hours you would be heading to the airport, never to see Charles again.

It took far longer than you expected to find your way back to the hotel and your father was already awake when you entered the room.

“You look like you had a rough night.”

You continued on your way to your bedroom in desperate need of a shower before packing. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Fair enough.”

You reemerged looking refreshed but you still felt contradictory inside. You told yourself that you did nothing wrong but it didn’t help when you knew there was a woman waiting at home for the man you had fucked. Fucked didn’t begin to cover what you had done - he had hung the stars and the moon, he had expanded your mind to the pleasures that could be sought with the right experience and partner. He had ruined you for all the men back home.

You fought to tug the zip of your suitcase closed, more than ready to leave the place behind, and growled in frustration. Your dad knew better than to bring attention to your mood but he gently moved you aside and closed the stubborn zip himself.

“How was your night?” you asked as you went to the kitchenette and made a strong brew of coffee.

He smiled to himself and picked up the suitcase to add it to the pile by the door but his smile dimmed when he saw how miserable you looked. “Nothing special, I just had dinner and a walk by the water.”

Normally you would have picked up on the lie, but you were too self centred to notice how happy he looked. He was glowing.

February 2020

You followed the voices to the living room and found Pascale in the doorway saying her goodbyes. You couldn’t see the face of the man she was talking to, only a head of dark hair, but he turned when his mothers attention was drawn away.

“You…” you breathed as you recognised the green eyes that had haunted your dreams for two years. Pascale frowned and you plastered a fake smile as you held your hand out. “You must be Charles.”

“I am,” he hummed as he looked at your hand before enveloping it in his much larger one. “It is a pleasure to meet you.”

“I’ll see you both for dinner tonight, Charles can drive you until we get you a car.”

Charles seemed to be hearing the news for the first time. “I can?”

“Yes, you can. Now make sure she feels at home alright, maybe introduce her to some of your friends.” Pascale blew a kiss and left Charles to close the door.

His eyes sparkled with mischief as he locked it and you realised at that moment just how fucked you were because, despite the quick prayer you had sent, Charles had recognised you too. “Hello again, Bambi.”

“Fuck me,” you muttered beneath your breath.

Charles smirked and booped you on the nose as he walked past you and towards his kitchen. “No thanks, you’re going to be my sister soon.”

You hated that for a second you were disappointed before common sense returned and you went to your room to find your phone. “Dad, I can’t stay here.”

“Why not?”

“Charles is an asshole, that’s why,” you whispered angrily, your eyes scanning the bottom of your door to see if he was eavesdropping.

“It’s only for two weeks, three at the most, plus he will be heading back to Italy for work on Monday.”

“Who the hell works in Italy and lives in Monaco?”

“He does, you would know that if you had a conversation with him and got to know him.”

“I don’t want to get to know him, I want to go home.”

“This is home now,” your dad said quietly as you heard Pascale arrive home at the other end. “I’ll see you at dinner.”

You flopped onto your bed with a groan as the call ended. Two weeks. Two fucking weeks. You groaned again as you realised that it may be just two weeks of living with him but there would be a lifetime of having him as your step brother. “Fuck!”

“I might have to get a swear jar to cover your half of the utilities.”

You surged upright and found Charles leaning against the balcony door, a balcony you apparently shared with his room next door. “Can I just make one thing very clear? As far as I am concerned, whatever happened two years ago - it didn’t. Nothing happened. I never saw you before today.”

“Nothing happened?” he chuckled as he walked into the room. “You still have that sense of humour because I remember a lot happening. Do I need to jog your memory?”

You hated how your body betrayed you, how your eyes followed his every step as he closed the distance between you. “You’re actually sick. Our parents are getting married.”

He stopped in front of you, his fingers brushing a stray strand of hair from your face and his eyes traced your lips. “You were gone when I woke up.”

“Giada wasn’t your roommate.”

“No, she wasn’t,” he admitted with that same smirk that simultaneously had you wanting to both slap it or kiss it away. “I have a new roommate now.”

“Not for long, I am gone as soon as the house is ready.”

“Oh, Bambi,” he laughed, swaggering his way back to the balcony door. “I wasn’t talking about you.”

“Asshole.”

“Biche.”

“Charles, you should introduce Y/N to Charlotte,” Pascale said as she poured another wine for you. “That’s his girlfriend. You would probably get along with her, she’s about your age and a very nice girl too.”

You bit your tongue as you raised your glass to your lips and stared at Charles over the rim. Placing the glass back down, you smiled sweetly. “Is that right? I could do with making a girlfriend here, someone to talk about boys with. Maybe she can set me up with a handsome Frenchie.”

A foot kicked you under the table and you chuckled at the glare he was sending you over the greek salad.

“We go to brunch on Sunday,” Pascale said with a pat to your hand. “You should come.”

“Count me in.” You stabbed a sweet cherry tomato with your fork before sealing your lips around it and humming in delight. “This was a delicious meal.”

Charles soon declared he was exhausted from the drive back from wherever it was he worked in Italy and Pascale looked a little disappointed that the first family dinner was cut short. Since he was your ride, you had to say goodnight to everyone too and followed him out to the car that was even flashier than what he had two years ago. His Ferrari fixation was more than just pictures of the cars in his apartment but he drove one too.

“You are quite eager to leave,” you noted as you lowered yourself into the passenger seat, your skirt riding up your thighs as you settled into the leather. Charles inhaled sharply as he saw the hint of your panties peek out and slammed the door shut before storming his way around the car.

“I’m in half a mind to take you over my lap and turn your ass red,” he growled as he pulled out of the driveway.

“Arthur is lovely,” you commented as you smiled at your reflection in the window. You were absolutely enjoying the way Charles gritted his teeth, but he had started this dance in your bedroom. “He offered to keep me company while you are away next week. I think I might enjoy his company more than yours.”

“Biche,” he warned as he broke the speed limit and practically skidded to a stop in his reserved parking spot. “You’re mine. No one else touches you. Ever.”

You slipped out of the car and felt his eyes on your ass as you climbed the stairs to the apartment. Though you had a key you waited for him to open the door and kept your voice low while he fumbled with the lock in his frustration. “Jealousy doesn’t look good on you.”

“Everything looks good on me,” he argued as he turned the key and shoved you through the doorway.

“Is that what your girlfriend tells you?”

“No, she prefers me with nothing on.”

You could understand why that was but didn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing you agree as you went to your room. “Goodnight, Charles.”

“Night, ma biche.”

It was still early but you refused to leave your room, instead opening your laptop to watch a movie. You were halfway through a stupid rom-com when you heard a feminine voice in the apartment and you paused it to check you weren’t hearing things.

“Oh, Charles, bébé, baise-moi!”

You rolled your eyes at the sounds of the headboard banging on the wall you shared and rifled through your bag to find a pair of headphones. It seemed that they grew louder or you became hyper aware of what was happening in the room next door, and a needy throb began between your legs when you heard Charles moan deeply.

Your frustration built until you disappeared into the bathroom and doused yourself in a cold shower, cursing him the entire time you waited for your blood to cool. You could finally think clearly after drying off and recognised he was only making his next move in the game he had started. It was time to start planning yours.

Charles' steps faltered when he emerged from his bedroom shirtless but he recovered quickly and walked past your position on the couch as he went to get himself a drink of water.

“You should try Gatorade,” you suggested as you flipped through the channels leisurely. “I find it better than water after a good fucking.”

“What are you wearing?” he finally asked after emptying the glass in one breath and wiping his lips dry.

“This is how I sleep,” you said as you stretched your legs out onto the ottoman. “Is that a problem for you?”

His eyes followed the line of your legs to the edge of the black and red babydoll you wore and cleared his throat. “No, no problem.”

“Charles, who are you talking to?” A pretty brunette emerged from the room and scanned the room, taking in her half naked boyfriend talking to you who was barely dressed much more than him.

You rose to your feet before Charles could recover and bounced over to the young lady, wrapping her in a hug. “You must be Charlotte, maman’s told me so much about you. I thought I would have to wait until Sunday to meet you.”

“Maman? Sunday?” she asked as she looked at Charles for the answers.

“This is Y/N, my step sister - or soon to be -” he added quietly. “Maman invited her to brunch.”

“We are going to be great friends, Lottie,” you sang as you stepped back with a grin. “I just know it.”

Charles nearly broke his glass as he tossed it in the sink and headed back to his room, returning a moment later with a sweatshirt and jeans on. “Allez, mon amour,” he called to Charlotte as he grabbed his keys.

You pouted playfully as he led her to the door. “She can sleep over, I don’t mind - I have earplugs.”

Charlotte flushed pink and clearly had no idea you were in the house while they were getting down and dirty. It made it all the more entertaining as you waved goodbye. “I’ll see you Sunday.”

Charles waited until Charlotte had passed the doorway before following, casting a final glance your way. “Don’t wait up.”

You felt his presence in your room before you saw him step out of the shadows with just a towel slung low on his hips and the bed dipped under his weight. “Well played,” he admitted, flopping back and making himself comfortable.

Rolling over, you turned to face him and tucked your arm under your head. “Did you think about me when you were with her?”

His lips twitched before he gave in to the smile. “Every fucking second.”

“She’s pretty.”

He reached out and brushed your cheek with his knuckles. “You’re beautiful.”

You could feel yourself falling to the temptation that his lips provided and it was getting harder to resist taking what you wanted. “You should go back to your room.”

“Your lips say one thing but these say another,” he teased as his touch drifted over your collar and down to your breasts, the thin babydoll doing little to hide your nipples that had hardened since he laid down in the bed. “They are begging for something else entirely.”

“Charles,” you whispered as you leaned into his touch before you could think better of it.

“I forgot how good my name sounded on your lips,” he hummed as his hand slipped beneath the material, “but I like it better when you scream it.”

“This is a bad idea.”

It didn’t stop him from rolling your nipple between his finger and thumb and drawing a soft sigh from you. “Why is this a bad idea, biche?”

“Because you have a girlfriend, and you’re my step…step…fuck…” Your eyes fluttered shut as his hand slipped between your legs and he touched you over your panties.

“Let me worry about Charlotte, you just relax and spread those lovely legs wider for me.”

“This is going to end badly.” You knew it but it didn’t stop your knees from parting for him. There was something about him that threw caution to the wind, it had been that way the first time you met too. He was pure temptation. He was the apple and you were Eve, unable to resist taking a bite. “I’ll find somewhere else to stay.”

He bit his lip as he watched how your body danced for his touch. “But not tonight.”

“Not tonight,” you conceded as you watched his eyes darken with lust. “Now please fuck me.”

Charles woke alone for the second time after sleeping with you but he smiled when he heard music playing in the living room. “You stayed,” he teased as he walked down the hall, trying to tame his hair along the way.

“Didn’t have another option but I have found some short term rentals to view next week.”

He froze and his hands dropped to his side. “Wait, you were serious?”

“Yes, this isn’t going to work because if I’m anywhere near you this will just keep happening, and it was a mistake.”

The pop music suddenly grated on Charles' nerves and he grabbed the remote, changing it to another channel before tossing the remote away. You knew he was sulking at the thought of losing his plaything but you ignored him and watched the French news that you couldn’t understand.

Something on the tv caught Charles’ attention though and he sat up straighter, his arms unfolding as his mouth parted in surprise. The breaking news headline was one that was universal and you realised something big was happening.

“What is it?” you asked as he remained fixated on the tv.

“It’s that virus,” he murmured. You had seen it on the news at home before the move, the outbreak reaching all across the globe as it spread person to person. You had been worried about it on the plane with each cough you heard. “It’s spreading here.”

“Okay, and?”

His hand found its way to his mouth and he bit his nails as he listened, translating and relaying the information for you in sporadic bursts. “You won’t need that rental, Bambi.”

“Why?”

He turned to you with an odd look that you couldn’t quite figure out, possibly apprehension or anticipation or a mix of both. “At midnight tonight the whole country is going into lockdown.”

His phone started ringing almost immediately and he excused himself to take the call. “It’s work.”

“Shit, shit, shit.” You grabbed your phone and dialled your dad. “Did you hear what’s happening? What do we do?”

“Relax, pumpkin, it’s going to be fine,” he assured you. “It’ll all blow over quickly, I’m sure. They can’t stop the world from turning, can they?”

You laughed in agreement and felt a little better by the time you hung up the phone, but Charles returned looking stressed as he dropped onto the couch beside you.

“Good news or bad news first?”

You didn’t think it mattered either way and just shrugged.

“Italy is also going into lockdown so there’s no reason to go back on Monday.” He draped his arm over your shoulders and pull you into his side. “Looks like we are going to be seeing a lot more of each other.”

“Is that the good or the bad news?”

“Well, I like my job so not being able to do it is bad for me, but being trapped with you indefinitely certainly sounds good to me.”

“Indefinitely?” you laughed and shook your head. “As soon as the house is done I’m gone.”

Charles' laughter silenced you and his kissed your temple. “Oh, Bambi…The builders will be locked down too, nothing will be finished any time soon. You’re all mine.”

“Shit,” you groaned in realisation. It was going to be impossible to keep your hands off him and from the grin on his face he knew it too.

“This is going to be great.”

Click here for part two.

#charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fanfic #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x reader #formula one imagine #formula one fanfiction #formula 1 fanfic #lando norris fanfic

2K notes · View notes

number1jeonginstan · 2 months

Text

A/N: Based on my hard thought I made here!!!

WC: 2.4k

Pairing: Changbin x afab!reader

Warnings: oral (fem! receiving), unprotected sex, cum eating, changbin calling reader bunny, they didn't know each other before this, slight creepy behaviour idk!

Your body was sore, your muscles were tight and your entire body felt like jello. This usually never happened to you because you worked out every other day, but you were so busy with work the other day, that you didn’t have time.

You usually went to your friend's gym, 25 minutes away from your apartment. After all, you had seen this cute guy there, which you admitted was stupid because you barely saw his face, it was covered by a mask, but the way his muscles were taught and stretching out his compression shirt, his curly hair on the top of his head, you were whipped.

You had started going there every other day, hoping to see him, which you did almost 95% of the time. You never talked to him, but you did know his name, Changbin.

You overheard it from his friend who looked a chipmunk, with round cheeks and a small waist. And since then, you kept crawling back, hoping that he would start the conversation first, too scared to make the first move.

You entered the almost deserted gym, placing your water bottle and towel next to the Stairmaster, only to be met with the sound of the clanging of someone pushing weights onto a bar. You slowly turned around to be met with a man with grey sweatpants and a black compression shirt. It was Changbin.

You didn’t expect him to be in your apartment’s gym, hip-thrusting what seemed to be roughly 200 pounds. You stood there, in shock, at first mesmerized by the way his hips thrust the bar in the air, sweat dripping down his body, but at the same time, you were confused.

How was he here out of all places, did he live in your same building this entire time, and if he did, how did you not notice him? On top of that, why did he drive 25 minutes every single day? While you were racking your brain around all these questions, you didn’t notice how he looked up, taking a break from his set only to see you.

While you were having your crisis, he was just as confused. He had never seen you down here, he came on the off days of your schedule, memorizing it to a tee. He knew what days you went to that gym, what workout you were going to hit, and even how many sips of water you took.

That was how in tune he was with your gym schedule, it wasn’t perverted, right? He just took a liking to you, your laugh, your ass. Fuck, your ass, he groaned to himself taking a look at it.

You weren’t at the gym yesterday, so he couldn’t take any videos of the way it stretched out your leggings as you bent down to stretch or did squats. He loved the way you pouted when you had to adjust the weights because someone before you didn’t put it back.

You were just so cute, he couldn’t get enough of you, and now to think you were in the same building as him all along, he needed to know you better, to know what you smelled like, how you lived, and what your drawer full of workout clothes that you loved to strut around looked like.

“Hi, sorry to bother you” he walked up to you, his training belt still wrapped around his torso. “Could you spot me please, there isn’t anyone else in the gym, and I really could use the help because I’m about to peak”

“Oh yeah, of course, let me just put my phone down” You haphazardly put your phone next to your water bottle, and went over to where he was squatting, walking around the bar so you were met face to face with him.

“My name is Changbin by the way” he grinned, pulling off his mask and allowing you to see his face. He was one of the most attractive men you have ever laid eyes on. With a sharp jawline and a beautiful nose, you looked at him in awe until you snapped out of your trance as he coughed out loud, checking if you were ready.

“Ready?” he asked, a grin on his face as you nodded your head. He began to squat, your hands on the bar ever so slightly to ensure it couldn’t slip through your fingers.

He did 12 reps in one set, you knew this from constantly watching him. “I’m done with my set, do you want me to spot you?” he asked, a grin splayed on his face.

You nodded, ready to take the extra plates off the bar, but he stopped you. “I got it” he whispered, carrying them off and back to their place. How he knew exactly how much you squatted confused you, but you didn’t think much of it, rather setting yourself under the bar while he was in front in the same position you were mere moments ago.

“There we go” he grinned as you did your first rep, your muscles tightening seeing as it was your first time squatting in a couple of days. Your form was slightly off, causing him to tsk’ out loud. “Can I help you?” he asked, walking around so your back was towards his chest.

“Of course” you replied as the cool touch of his hands met your waist.

He slowly pressed his hands firmer into you, allowing you to complete another rep, his body bending with you, your ass pressing right into his crotch.

“There we go sweetheart” he groaned, feeling the plush of your ass hitting his cock. You looked back, watching his eyes flutter slightly at the sight of you. “Did you only do this to touch my ass?” you whined, trying to escape his grasp, placing the bar down.

“Come on sweetheart, we both know you only go to that gym for me” he replied, watching you through the mirror, your back still towards him. He slowly came closer his arms wrapping around your torso, kissing your slightly sweaty neck, savoring the taste.

“Please” you whined, his cock rutting against you through your leggings. He simply nodded, taking off his belt, throwing it god knows where before picking you up and placing you on a bench, your back arched in the air, your forearms and knees pressed against the bench.

“Such a perfect ass” he groaned, you shook it slightly in an attempt to entice him. “It’s all for you” you giggled as his hands ran over each and every curve of your hips and thighs.

“Such a pretty little bunny, all for me, even wearing my favorite color” he grins, taking in your bright pink leggings and sports bra. “I’ll wear it more often, just for you” you grinned as he slowly pulled down the pink pants down, groaning at the sight of your cunt.

You weren’t wearing any underwear, you never did at the gym, and for the first time in your life, it was a plus. Your pussy was soaked, your folds glistening under the gym light. Changbin slowly pulled out his phone from his pocket, taking a picture before throwing it with his belt and diving straight into your cunt.

He lapped at your folds savoring the taste as he slowly took your clit in between his lips, first kissing it, then sucking at it, eliciting the tiniest moans from your mouth. “Feel good bunny?” he asked straight into your cunt, the vibration causing you to jolt forward slightly.

“Feels so good Changbin” you whimpered as he slowly brought his hand up to your thighs, spreading your folds wider with his hands to get better access to your pussy. You were clenching around nothing, in need of more stimulation.

“Poor baby, such a pretty cunt, but needs more than my tongue doesn’t it?” he asked, your head turned back to look at him. You hummed a yes in response as he brought one of his fingers to your hole, slowly inserting it inside.

“Fuck bunny, you are so tight, how are you going to take my cock?”

“Gonna be a good girl and take it, promise Binnie” you whined as he thrusted his first finger inside of you, meeting a bit of resistance.

“You have to be relaxed for my baby, can you do that?”

“Yes Binnie”

You slowly felt your walls unclenching around his finger, allowing him to insert another inside of you, his fingers scissoring in your cunt to prep it for his cock. He knew that you wouldn’t be able to take it unless you were properly prepped, despite your whining that you could.

“Can take it, Binnie, I don’t need anymore prep, just need your cock please” you begged, needing to feel him inside of you.

“Be a good girl and take my fingers or you won’t even get my cock” he growled as he went back to lapping at your clit in hopes of making you cum to provide extra lubrication for his cock.

You nodded as his finger hit that spot inside you that drove you wild, your walls clamping around his finger as you came, your body shaking. He didn’t stop, overstimulating you as his fingers continued to thrust inside of you, lips still sucking your clit.

“Please, can’t take it anymore” you pleaded for him to stop, but he didn’t. He needed to consume every single drop that your cunt could give, it was the sweetest thing he had ever tasted.

“You want my cock?” he asked your fucked out body as you slumped into the bench slightly, your body covered in a sheer sweat. “Please” you whined, not able to come up with a coherent sentence after cumming so hard.

As you regained concessions of your body, he pulled down his sweatpants, a patch of his pre-cum staining through his boxers and sweatpants allowing you to see.

“You weren’t joking when you said you were huge” You looked at him with your jaw drop. He wasn’t long by any means, but he was girthy. No wonder he told you he had to prep you, you had no idea how he was going to fit inside of you.

“Fuck, I don’t have a condom” he whined, stroking his cock to release some of the tension so he didn’t cum on the spot.

“You can fuck me raw, I’m clean and on the pill” You looked at him, your doe eyes pleading causing him to have an internal battle with himself.

“I’m clean too, but I just want to be sure, I don’t want to do anything you are uncomfortable with” he whined, not wanting to pressure you.

“Says the dude who just fucked me with his fingers so hard I almost blacked out in the middle of our apartment’s gym, just put it inside of me please, I can’t wait any longer” you whined, praying that he would fuck you.

With that confirmation, he slowly ran the tip of his cock along your folds, capturing as much of your wetness as he could before slowly stretching out your hole with his girthy cock, you moaned as he barely inserted the head inside of you.

“Is it good bunny?” he asked, running his hands along your thighs, making sure you were comfortable.

“So good, need more” you whine, pushing yourself back on his cock just slightly, the stretch causing you to moan loudly.

“You like it?” he whimpered, pushing the entirety of his cock inside of you, his hips pressed against your ass.

You could only moan in response as he slowly began to thrust his hips, slowly pulling his cock almost all the way out of your cunt, only leaving the tip before slamming back into you, the two of you moaning at the same time.

“Fuck bunny, it’s like your sweet little pussy was made for my cock” he moaned as you fucked yourself back on his cock.

“Fuck, keep doing that” he groaned, slapping your ass.

You moaned as you felt him hit a particularly deep spot inside of you.

“Going to cum soon bunny? Going to cum on my cock?” he whispered into your each, the new position causing your eyes to roll to the back of your head. “Fuck, yes I’m cumming” you whined as he abused that spot inside of you.

It didn’t take him far to follow behind. “Fuck, going to cum, where do you want me to cum sweetheart?”

You quickly pulled yourself off his cock, turning around so you could suck his cock, sucking on the head slightly as your hands fondled his balls, his own hand stroking his cock, causing him to cum.

Your cum as well as his mixed in your mouth, causing you to moan around the tip of his cock. “Fuck” he groaned, pulling your head off of him. The two of you fell to the floor of the gym.

“Let me take you out on a real date? Please bunny” he whined, kissing your lips as you lay back on the gym floor.

“As long as there is good food” you whispered back, wrapping your arms around his torso. “We should get up first though” he grinned, picking you up bridal style, causing you to squeal.

“Want to come up to my apartment, I can teach you new ways to work out your glutes” twirling you around, a boyish grin splayed on his face.

“I would love to!” you giggled back, as he grabbed your stuff in his hands, placing you back down on the floor.

—

“You should just ask her out” Jisung groaned, as he let the lat bar slip through his hands, “you’ve been fawning over her for months”

“You know what, I just might” Changbin grinned, walking over to where you were finishing your reps and kissing you right there and then.

Jisung’s jaw dropped, as Changbin walked with you hand and hand back to the lat pull down. “Jisung, meet my girlfriend” he grinned, your face splayed with a light blush.

“You have got to be kidding me, you pulled before I did” he whined, causing you to giggle.

“Yah!” he shouted, before chasing him around the almost empty gym, your giggle filling the void. Maybe skipping the gym was the best course of action.

#ju <3 writes #stray kids #skz #skz smut #straykids x reader #skz x reader #straykids smut #stray kids smut #stray kids x reader #skz changbin #changbin x reader #changbin smut #seo changbin #seo changbin smut #seo changbin x reader

493 notes · View notes

coilserpent · 3 months

Text

astrology observations pt. 13

Hello, everyone! 💜 I am back again with the observations after a long long time away from tumblr; I am taking sidereal birth chart readings, for those contact me at my email: [email protected]. Enjoy!

sidereal cancer is a natural yearner similar to sidereal taurus and libra, however it is not exclusive to a romantic interest. the yearning transcends romance, it goes to the past, friends, family, older versions of the self.

sidereal leo is pedantic about their goals, they like to track their progress and also keep their spaces clean and pleasant looking.

9th and 12th placements are experimental, they may not believe in the concepts presented to them but they do not reject them. 12th housers especially may even try them out and embrace something just to feel what it brings to them as an experience simply,

people put sidereal leo on a pedestal and look up to them because of their skills and the way they carry themselves, their wisdom too (magha nakshatra) but they feel like an impostor often and don’t even like being noticed in that way, they mostly prefer recognition for certain skills.

7th housers can’t learn their most valuable life lessons and develop themselves to their fullest potential without their 1:1 connections. be it business, friendship or romance. they take the wisdom from those unsuccessful relationships and use it to strengthen their 1st - sense of who they are outside of the relationships.

8th housers have a tendency to not let their traumatic experiences go and this stunts their ability to grow emotionally. (2-8 nodes especially here) they have a tendency to always remember the people closest to them did that affected them so deeply where they don’t even get out of this deep whole of negativity, this breeds chronic low self worth (2H) and no motivation to be more.

1st housers when not evolved may be tricked into giving a lot of attention to the 3D and associate 3D themes with what makes them “Them”, they may define themselves as their career and hobbies. this is a recipe for existential crisis because once those 3D elements change (they will) or are no longer interesting to the masses this individual essentially “loses value”.

sidereal taurus moon vs sidereal scorpio moon have polarizing approaches to lively aspirations. due to the exaltation of the Taurus moon and this sense of natural internal security they are born with has its downside, that shows up in someone as not striving for more than the ”comfortable” lifestyle and not really having build any special skills to achieve milestones. this makes them prone to falling into depressions later in life (and issues with overeating/drinking often). sidereal scorpio moons are not “blessed” with this sense of internal comfort, the hardships they face early on makes them motivated to rebuild themselves and acquire skills which are important for success. the other downside is they have to learn how to appreciate their achievements and not just diminish them and going for the next, taking time for a little rest now and then is okay, scorpio.

#astro notes #astrology notes #astro community #astrology community #vedic astrology #astrology observations #astro observations #sidereal astrology

544 notes · View notes

blackwoolncrown · 7 months

Text

Hey allies - I could use support <3 (Black, autistic, NB femme, orphan of estrangement)

So long story short I've been through the ringer lately- The great part is things that I've been working towards for the past 2 years are finally coming to fruition!

The hard part is that I've been dealing with frequent fees and expenses in the process and Oct-Nov promise even more.

If you don't know, I was displaced from FL during the housing crisis and just couldn't keep up with what the US was demanding of me for survival, so I moved to another country at the suggestion and helping hand of a friend.

Recently, I've managed to get part of my residency process under way, but the trip to do so cost me ~$2k for travel, food and lodgings, I'd JUST had my car fixed.

When I got back to the country I was told that completing the process would be another $100 fee; my lease is up next month and in order to move I'll need to pay 2x rent wherever I go.

It's just a lot building up and I make a modest income right now; my savings is drained from taking care of things with my business and having to travel back and forth to a town 1.5 hours away bc my place got robbed and I've been having to handle things w the police & my landlord while I stay at a friends (still, unfortunately, paying rent at the place I can't stay at rn). I'd love to focus on my work to help w this but I only do payroll once a month, and I'll need to pay fees & rent sooner than that because next month I have to move AND drive 3 days to pay a bunch of money to import my car.

There's more and I'd be happy to give more detail/proof if anyone wants it (DM me) but overall I have just been really financially drained, burned out, and I need funding to assist w covering groceries, deposit and legal fees for this month into Oct & Nov.

**I am not at risk of being houseless or unfed atm so this is really for anyone with privilege who can comfortably help out***

C***app: $moonseye

!!!PLEASE DO NOT TAG!!!!

761 notes · View notes

mostlysignssomeportents · 7 months

Text

Yanis Varoufakis’s “Technofeudalism: What Killed Capitalism?”

Monday (October 2), I'll be in Boise to host an event with VE Schwab. On October 7–8, I'm in Milan to keynote Wired Nextfest.

Socialists have been hotly anticipating the end of capitalism since at least 1848, when Marx and Engels published The Communist Manifesto - but the Manifesto also reminds us that capitalism is only too happy to reinvent itself during its crises, coming back in new forms, over and over again:

https://www.nytimes.com/2022/10/31/books/review/a-spectre-haunting-china-mieville.html

Now, in Technofeudalism: What Killed Capitalism, Yanis Varoufakis - the "libertarian Marxist" former finance minister of Greece - makes an excellent case that capitalism died a decade ago, turning into a new form of feudalism: technofeudalism:

https://www.penguin.co.uk/books/451795/technofeudalism-by-varoufakis-yanis/9781847927279

To understand where Varoufakis is coming from, you need to go beyond the colloquial meanings of "capitalism" and "feudalism." Capitalism isn't just "a system where we buy and sell things." It's a system where capital rules the roost: the richest, most powerful people are those who coerce workers into using their capital (factories, tools, vehicles, etc) to create income in the form of profits.

By contrast, a feudal society is one organized around people who own things, charging others to use them to produce goods and services. In a feudal society, the most important form of income isn't profit, it's rent. To quote Varoufakis: "rent flows from privileged access to things in fixed supply" (land, fossil fuels, etc). Profit comes from "entrepreneurial people who have invested in things that wouldn't have otherwise existed."

This distinction is subtle, but important: "Profit is vulnerable to market competition, rent is not." If you have a coffee shop, then every other coffee shop that opens on your block is a competitive threat that could erode your margins. But if you own the building the coffee shop owner rents, then every other coffee shop that opens on the block raises the property values and the amount of rent you can charge.

The capitalist revolution - extolled and condemned in the Manifesto - was led by people who valorized profits as the heroic returns for making something new in this world, and who condemned rents as a parasitic drain on the true producers whose entrepreneurial spirits would enrich us all. The "free markets" extolled by Adam Smith weren't free from regulation - they were free from rents:

https://locusmag.com/2021/03/cory-doctorow-free-markets/

But rents, Varoufakis writes, "survived only parasitically on, and in the shadows of, profit." That is, rentiers (people whose wealth comes from rents) were a small rump of the economy, slightly suspect and on the periphery of any consideration of how to organize our society. But all that changed in 2008, when the world's central banks addressed the Great Financial Crisis by bailing out not just the banks, but the bankers, funneling trillions to the people whose reckless behavior brought the world to the brink of economic ruin.

Suddenly, these wealthy people, and their banks, experienced enormous wealth-gains without profits. Their businesses lost billions in profits (the cost of offering the business's products and services vastly exceeded the money people spent on those products and services). But the business still had billions more at the end of the year than they'd had at the start: billions in public money, funneled to them by central banks.

This kicked off the "everything rally" in which every kind of asset - real estate, art, stocks, bonds, even monkey JPEGs - ballooned in value. That's exactly what you'd expect from an economy where rents dominate over profits. Feudal rentiers don't need to invest to keep making money - remember, their wealth comes from owning things that other people invest in to make money.

Rents are not vulnerable to competition, so rentiers don't need to plow their rents into new technology to keep the money coming in. The capitalist that leases the oil field needs to invest in new pumps and refining to stay competitive with other oil companies. But the rentier of the oil field doesn't have to do anything: either the capitalist tenant will invest in more capital and make the field more valuable, or they will lose out to another capitalist who'll replace them. Either way, the rentier gets more rent.

So when capitalists get richer, they spend some of that money on new capital, but when rentiers get richer, them spend money on more assets they can rent to capitalists. The "everything rally" made all kinds of capital more valuable, and companies that were transitioning to a feudal footing turned around and handed that money to their investors in stock buybacks and dividends, rather than spending the money on R&D, or new plants, or new technology.

The tech companies, though, were the exception. They invested in "cloud capital" - the servers, lines, and services that everyone else would have to pay rent on in order to practice capitalism.

Think of Amazon: Varoufakis likens shopping on Amazon to visiting a bustling city center filled with shops run by independent capitalists. However, all of those capitalists are subservient to a feudal lord: Jeff Bezos, who takes 51 cents out of every dollar they bring in, and furthermore gets to decide which products they can sell and how those products must be displayed:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/11/28/enshittification/#relentless-payola

The postcapitalist, technofeudal world isn't a world without capitalism, then. It's a world where capitalists are subservient to feudalists ("cloudalists" in Varoufakis's thesis), as are the rest of us the cloud peons, from the social media users and performers who fill the technofuedalists' siloes with "content" to the regular users whose media diet is dictated by the cloudalists' recommendation systems:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/01/21/potemkin-ai/#hey-guys

A defining feature of cloudalism is the ability of the rentier lord to destroy any capitalist vassal's business with the click of a mouse. If Google kicks your business out of the search index, or if Facebook blocks your publication, or if Twitter shadowbans mentions of your product, or if Apple pulls your app from the store, you're toast.

Capitalists "still have the power to command labor from the majority who are reliant on wages," but they are still mere vassals to the cloudalists. Even the most energetic capitalist can't escape paying rent, thanks in large part to "IP," which I claim is best understood as "laws that let a company reach beyond its walls to dictate the conduct of competitors, critics and customers":

https://locusmag.com/2020/09/cory-doctorow-ip/

Varoufakis points to ways that the cloudalists can cement their gains: for example, "green" energy doesn't rely on land-leases (like fossil fuels), but it does rely on networked grids and data-protocols that can be loaded up with IP, either or both of which can be turned into chokepoints for feudal rent-extraction. To make things worse, Varoufakis argues that cloudalists won't be able to muster the degree of coordination and patience needed to actually resolve the climate emergency - they'll not only extract rent from every source of renewables, but they'll also silo them in ways that make them incapable of doing the things we need them to do.

Energy is just one of the technofeudal implications that Varoufakis explores in this book: there are also lengthy and fascinating sections on geopolitics, monetary policy, and the New Cold War. Technofeudalism - and the struggle to produce a dominant fiefdom - is a very useful lens for understanding US/Chinese tech wars.

Though Varoufakis is laying out a technical and even esoteric argument here, he takes great pains to make it accessible. The book is structured as a long open letter to his father, a chemical engineer and leftist who was a political prisoner during the fascist takeover of Greece. The framing device works very well, especially if you've read Talking To My Daughter About the Economy, Varoufakis's 2018 radical economics primer in the form of a letter to his young daughter:

https://us.macmillan.com/books/9780374538491/talkingtomydaughterabouttheeconomy

At the very end of the book, Varoufakis calls for "a cloud rebellion to overthrow technofeudalism." This section is very short - and short on details. That's not a knock against the book: there are plenty of very good books that consist primarily or entirely of analysis of the problems with a system, without having to lay out a detailed program for solving those problems.

But for what it's worth, I think there is a way to plan and execute a "cloud rebellion" - a way to use laws, technology, reverse-engineering and human rights frameworks to shatter the platforms and seize the means of computation. I lay out that program in The Internet Con: How the Seize the Means of Computation, a book I published with Verso Books a couple weeks ago:

https://www.versobooks.com/products/3035-the-internet-con

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/28/cloudalists/#cloud-capital

#pluralistic #yanis varoufakis #socialism #communism #technofeudalism #economics #postcapitalism #political science #rent-seeking #rentiers #books #reviews #gift guide

732 notes · View notes

writers-potion · 8 days

Note

I'm writing a sci-fi story about a space freight hauler with a heavy focus on the economy. Any tips for writing a complex fictional economy and all of it's intricacies and inner-workings?

Constructing a Fictional Economy

The economy is all about: How is the limited financial/natural/human resources distributed between various parties?

So, the most important question you should be able to answer are:

Who are the "have"s and "have-not"s?

What's "expensive" and what's "commonplace"?

What are the rules(laws, taxes, trade) of this game?

Building Blocks of the Economic System

Type of economic system. Even if your fictional economy is made up, it will need to be based on the existing systems: capitalism, socialism, mixed economies, feudalism, barter, etc.

Currency and monetary systems: the currency can be in various forms like gols, silver, digital, fiat, other commodity, etc. Estalish a central bank (or equivalent) responsible for monetary policy

Exchange rates

Inflation

Domestic and International trade: Trade policies and treaties. Transportation, communication infrastructure

Labour and employment: labor force trends, employment opportunities, workers rights. Consider the role of education, training and skill development in the labour market

The government's role: Fiscal policy(tax rate?), market regulation, social welfare, pension plans, etc.

Impact of Technology: Examine the role of tech in productivity, automation and job displacement. How does the digital economy and e-commerce shape the world?

Economic history: what are some historical events (like The Great Depresion and the 2008 Housing Crisis) that left lasting impacts on the psychologial workings of your economy?

For a comprehensive economic system, you'll need to consider ideally all of the above. However, depending on the characteristics of your country, you will need to concentrate on some more than others. i.e. a country heavily dependent on exports will care a lot more about the exchange rate and how to keep it stable.

For Fantasy Economies:

Social status: The haves and have-nots in fantasy world will be much more clear-cut, often with little room for movement up and down the socioeconoic ladder.

Scaricity. What is a resource that is hard to come by?

Geographical Characteristics: The setting will play a huge role in deciding what your country has and doesn't. Mountains and seas will determine time and cost of trade. Climatic conditions will determine shelf life of food items.

Impact of Magic: Magic can determine the cost of obtaining certain commodities. How does teleportation magic impact trade?

For Sci-Fi Economies Related to Space Exploration

Thankfully, space exploitation is slowly becoming a reality, we can now identify the factors we'll need to consider:

Economics of space waste: How large is the space waste problem? Is it recycled or resold? Any regulations about disposing of space wste?

New Energy: Is there any new clean energy? Is energy scarce?

Investors: Who/which country are the giants of space travel?

Ownership: Who "owns" space? How do you draw the borders between territories in space?

New class of workers: How are people working in space treated? Skilled or unskilled?

Relationship between space and Earth: Are resources mined in space and brought back to Earth, or is there a plan to live in space permanently?

What are some new professional niches?

What's the military implication of space exploitation? What new weapons, networks and spying techniques?

Also, consider:

Impact of space travel on food security, gender equality, racial equality

Impact of space travel on education.

Impact of space travel on the entertainment industry. Perhaps shooting monters in space isn't just a virtual thing anymore?

What are some indsutries that decline due to space travel?

I suggest reading up the Economic Impact Report from NASA, and futuristic reports from business consultants like McKinsey.

If space exploitation is a relatiely new technology that not everyone has access to, the workings of the economy will be skewed to benefit large investors and tech giants. As more regulations appear and prices go down, it will be further be integrated into the various industries, eventually becoming a new style of living.

200 notes · View notes

moonscriptsx · 8 months

Text

Daylight || 01 (M)

PART 2

I don't wanna look at anything else now that I saw you I don't wanna think of anything else now that I thought of you

SYNOPSIS: Between the endless flirty banter or secret looks of longing, the line between you and your boss had always been slightly blurred. But when a night out with friends has you and your boss meeting for the first time outside of the workplace, that line starts to become nonexistent as mutual feelings are brought to light.

PAIRING: CEO!Wonwoo x Assistant!Reader [with appearances by Mingyu (a self-proclaimed Cupid extraordinaire), Soonyoung & Joshua as supportive besties, Seungkwan & Seokmin as the life of the party, Seungcheol (a menace), and a brief glimpse of Chan.]

GENRE: Coworkers→Friends→Lovers!AU – Fluff + Smut [minors dni]

WORDS: The entirety of both parts is 27.1k. Part 1 is 15.4k and part 2 is 11.6k.

WARNINGS: Slowburn, pining from both ends. Reader is constantly in a silent crisis when it comes to feelings, and Wonwoo is possessive (both in and out of the bedroom). Mentions of alcohol, cursing, and grinding on the dancefloor. Wonwoo is a slightly hard!dom but talks you through it so sweetly it'll make you melt. Oral (both recieving), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), messy orgasms. Slight choking, dirty talk, alludes to squirting. Wonwoo is a pussy fiend.

A/N: Shoutout to the plethora of billionaire CEO books that I've been reading recently that ended up inspiring this piece and subsequently pulled me out of a three, almost four, year writing drought. But now I'm finding out that Tumblr has this stupid fucking character block limit that's not letting me post the fic in its entirety so it'll be split into two parts. Annoying ass rule. Anyway, It's good to be back! 🫶🏻

PLAYLIST: daylight by taylor swift // poison ivy by hemi moore // violet chemistry by miley cyrus // play with fire by sam tinnesz // ruin my life by zara larsson // tonight by zayn // middle of the night by elley duhe // worst behavior by ariana grande. // so it goes by taylor swift

The bustling street of people has you grumbling underneath your breath as you weave in and out of the crowd, the soles of your heels clicking against the pavement as you walk the last two blocks to get to your office. The early morning traffic of business men and women alike are already getting on your nerves as they take their time getting to their own jobs, taking strides small and slow enough that you’re ready to wring every single one of their necks as you bypass them while juggling the carrier of coffee in your hand.

A string of obscenities is falling from your mouth as you stumble inside the office building, clutching onto the coffees for dear life as you manage to make your way to the elevators without spilling the cups. Pressing the top floor, you’re heaving a sigh of relief as the elevator ‘dings’, a grumble escaping you as your heels click against the floor with each stride you take. Scattered murmurs around the office have you straining to hear the morning gossip, your eyes curiously peering around at the worried faces of your coworkers.

“He’s miserable today.”

Whirring around, you meet the wide smile of Mingyu, the head of finance and Wonwoo’s right hand man. You roll your eyes at his words before grabbing a coffee from the carrier and handing it to the man.

“When is he not miserable?” You counter, making Mingyu chuckle.

“When he’s around you,” he teases, making your face flush.

“Shut up,” you hiss, glaring at him. “He’s always miserable around me. If I didn’t know any better, I would think he hated me.”

He scoffs at your words before taking a sip of his coffee.

“Oh please,” he grinned. “You bring order and excitement to his life. Two things which he desperately needs.”

You shoot Mingyu a pointed look as you grip the last two coffees in the carrier, your head gesturing towards his office as your spin on your heel.

“Get back to work, Mingyu.”

The taller man grumbles, his lips forming into a pout as he calls behind you.

“Don’t tell me what to do!”

Ignoring his response, you make your way towards your desk. Placing the carrier down, you set your laptop bag onto your desk before unwrapping your purse from around you and setting it on your chair. Grabbing your coffee in one hand, you grab the remaining one in the carrier with your other hand before turning towards the open door behind your desk. He hasn’t noticed your presence yet, the man still immersed in the papers he’s reading.

Leaning against the doorframe, you let a smirk grace your lips as you gazed at your unsuspecting boss. His eyebrows are furrowed in concentration, glasses perched on the bridge of his nose, and he’s frowning as he reads over the words on the paper. Along with his serious and reserved nature, he was devastatingly handsome. Sharp eyes, high bridged nose, and lips that curled into a feline smirk when he was feeling cocky enough. His looks paired with the strong build and tall statue made him look nothing less than a god.

Crossing your arms over your chest, you break yourself out of analyzing your boss as you announce your presence.

“You know it wouldn’t kill you to smile every now and again.”

The sound of your voice has the man’s head snapping up to look at you, sharp eyes shooting you a pointed look as you grinned at your boss. Pushing yourself off of the doorframe, you walk over to him and place the other coffee cup down onto his desk, biting back a laugh as he stares at you with a blank look on his face.

“Now I understand why women get annoyed when people tell them to smile.”

His deadpan response only makes your smile grow wider as you take a seat in one of the chairs in front of him, your own cup of coffee nestled in your hands as you take a sip.

“I’m just saying,” you hold a hand up in defense. “If you keep frowning, your face is going to get stuck like that. And you’ll get wrinkles”

“Maybe then people will leave me alone,” he grumbled.

“Unfortunately, you’re a CEO, Mr. Jeon,” you point out. “You’re going to have to meet with people whether you want to or not.”

Wonwoo hums before he leans forward to grab his coffee.

Thick rimmed glasses are perched on the bridge of his nose, his sharp eyes devoid of any amusement.

“If I asked you to cancel all of my meetings for today, would you?”

You splutter into your coffee cup at his question, eyes widening at the serious look on his face.

“Please don’t tell me you’re serious,” you whined, shoulders slumping in defeat. “It’s already eight thirty and your first meeting is in half an hour!”

Wonwoo purses his lips, eyes glinting under the fluorescents.

“I’m sure they would understand,” he reassures.

It’s then you catch him biting back a small smile, realization washing over you as your lips part in surprise.

“Are - are you – making a joke?”

Wonwoo shrugs, this time letting his lips curl into a feline-like smirk.

“Not a very good one, apparently,” he chuckles, making you let out a laugh of surprise.

“Look at you, Mr. Jeon,” you beam. “You can smile every once in a while.”

Shaking his head at your words, Wonwoo folds his hands on his desk before leaning comfortably against the back of his chair.

“Were you able to set up the meeting with Seungcheol?”

You nod, crossing your legs as you adjust your posture on the chair.

“He’ll be meeting us in two weeks,” you informed. “Mingyu and I are already working on the numbers and stats as well as putting together the powerpoint to present.”

Wonwoo nods in acknowledgement, his glasses slightly sliding down the bridge of his nose at the movement, and you try to ignore the muscles in his arm as you watch him push them back up.

“Good,” he praises. “I expect nothing less than perfect with the two of you.”

You swallow thickly at the praise, adjusting your legs once more as you try not to shrink under his gaze.

“Right,” you murmur, avoiding his eyes. “I should get to work.”

Smoothing out your skirt as you stand up, you turn to walk away from Wonwoo when he calls out our name, your head turning back to look at him as he gestures towards the coffee.

“Thank you,” he calls out. “For the drink.”

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, not quite sure why he chose now of all the times to thank you for the drink you bring him everyday.

“You’re welcome.”

Pushing aside the confusion, you turn back around and get started on your day.

“(Y/N)!”

Soonyoung’s whine reverberates from the speaker as you wince, masking it with a smile as you look at your friend on the screen.

With your busy work schedule, you haven't had much time to see or hang out with your friends, gaining you whines and groans of ‘We miss you’s!’ from the group whenever you have a chance to Facetime them.

“Hi Soonie,” you greet, beaming with a small wave. “Happy almost birthday!”

Soonyoung’s grin widens at your words, the blonde bouncing happily on the other side of the screen.

“Thank you, honey!” He responds. “I was actually calling about that. We’re going to the HYBE Club on Friday for my birthday and I wanted to see if you were able to go.”

Pursing your lips, you perch your phone up against the corner of your computer screen as you toggle around the apps, pulling up your calendar and scanning over the dates. The empty space for Friday’s date stares back at you and you almost want to cry out of relief at the sight of a rare day off, your lips curving into a bright smile as you peer down at Soonyoung’s face on the screen.

“Believe it or not,” you started, grinning at your friend. “I’m off.”

A joyous cheer escapes the blonde, muffled shouts in the background indicating that your friends had heard the whole thing and were collectively celebrating at the fact that you were able to join them. Soonyoung beams at the camera.

“We’re going to have a blast, (Y/N)!” He says, excitedly. “Meet us at HYBE Club around five! We’re going to start out with dinner and drinks!”

“And dancing!”

Dokyeom’s shout echoes in your airpod and you can’t help but to giggle as he and Soonyoung wrestle over the phone, the former’s bright smile coming into view as he grins at you through the phone.

“Hi (Y/N)!” He greets, his infectious smile making you beam back at him.

“Hi ‘Kyeomie.” you coo, blowing him a kiss. “I miss you!”

“We miss you too!” He whines, pouting. “You’ve been working too hard lately.”

“I know I have,” you frown. “But I’m excited to be able to have a night with you guys.”

“We can’t wait (Y/N)!”

Joshua and Seungkwan shout from the background and you can’t help but to laugh as the four of them wrestle over the phone. You were so preoccupied in watching the chaos unfold amongst your friends that you hadn’t noticed the presence that stood behind you, the deep timbre almost making you jump out of your skin.

“Am I interrupting something?”

You’re clambering to hit the end button, heat flooding your cheeks as you place the phone face down on your desk as you swivel your chair to face Wonwoo, your boss standing behind you with his arms folded over his chest. Butterflies flutter wildly in your stomach as you catch the playful glint in his eyes as he leans against the doorway.

“N – not at all, Mr. Jeon,” you stuttered out. “I was just finishing my lunch break.”

Wonwoo nods, a small frown on his face as his gaze trails over you.

“Ah,” he responds, and you catch the slight slump of his shoulders at your words. “I was actually coming to see if you wanted to grab lunch with me.”

Your heart stilled, the butterflies multiplying tenfold as you mirror his frown.

“Oh,” you mutter, dejectedly. “I’m sorry, sir. If I had known –”

“It’s alright, (Y/N),” he brushes off your apology with a wave of his hand. “Now I know for next time to catch you a little sooner.”

Offering you a small smile, he bows his head in your direction before walking off to the elevators. You’re still frowning as you watch his retreating form, your heart tugging regretfully in your chest, a small sigh escaping you as you slump back defeated in your chair.

“Yikes,” a voice chimes from behind you. “Break his heart, why don’t you?”

Your eyes narrowed into a glare as your head snapped to look at a smirking Mingyu, his tall stature leaning against your desk.

“Shut up, Mingyu,” you bite out, making the man laugh.

“The man just wanted to treat you to a nice meal and you turned him down,” he tuts, shaking his head. “That’s cold.”

“I already ate!” You defended. “I wasn’t going to just sit there and watch him eat.”

Mingyu purses his lips, shoulders shrugging in thought.

“Maybe he likes that,” he grins. “Maybe he just wanted to be in your company.”

You roll your eyes at his words, waving him off as you turn to your computer.

“I’m in his company enough,” you muttered, making Mingyu snicker.

“Maybe he wants more than your company.”

Mingyu wiggles his eyebrows at you teasingly, chortling with laughter as you chuck a pen in his direction.

“Leave me alone, Gyu!”

“I’m just saying,” he grins, holding his hands up in defense. “It’s something to think about.”

“It’s nothing to think about,” you grumbled. “Go back to your office and mind your business.”

Mingyu’s laugh follows him as he walks away, leaving you to mull over his words as your mind fills with the image of you laying in your boss’s arms, heat flooding between your legs at the thought of your bare body pressed against his silk sheets.

Ignoring your increased heart rate, you’re turning back to the computer and grumbling under your breath.

Go to hell, Kim Mingyu.

Tongues and teeth clash together in a bruising kiss as you’re clambering to sit on the desk, a whimper falling from your lips as hands rip open your blouse, buttons flying everywhere as your chest becomes exposed. There’s a growl against your lips, teeth clamping down onto your bottom one as greedy hands encase themselves around your covered breasts. If the bruising kiss hadn’t left you breathless, it was the rough kneading to your bra-clad mounds that had your lips parting in ecstasy. Frenzied lips leave a hot trail down the expanse of your neck as you’re perched on the desk, legs wrapping around lean hips.

“God, you’re perfect,” he grits out, tongue sweeping over the valley between your breasts. “Perfect for me and only me. Aren’t you, sweetheart?”

You moan at his words, back arching into his touch as he reaches behind to unclasp your bra.

“Only you, Mr. Jeon.”

A salacious smirk crosses his lips as he peers up at you from between your breasts, glasses haphazardly sitting on the bridge of his nose, and he’s tonguing at your flesh as he slides your bra straps down your arms, mouth ghosting over a pert nipple before taking it fully in his mouth –

And then chimes are going off.

There’s an obnoxious ring filling the air as you bolt upright in bed, heat pooling in between your legs as you try to grip onto your surroundings.

Much to your dismay, you’re in your apartment – alone – filled with nothing but the remnants of your burning arousal. Your eyebrows furrowed in frustration, a string of curses falling from your lips as you’re fishing around for the obnoxious ringtone that had disturbed your scandalous dream. Peering down at the screen, you glare at the caller, mentally condemning them into next week as you press the answer button.

“You’re a dead man.”

Your words are harsh as you answer the call, a whine falling from the receiving end as you glare into the empty room.

“I’m sorry,” Mingyu apologizes, making you scoff. “But it’s an emergency.”

You grit your teeth as he speaks, your body refusing to get up from the bed as sleep and arousal still swirls in the pit of your stomach.

“I swear to god, Mingyu, if someone is not dying –”

“The presentation got pushed up.”

Your threat falls short, lips parting in shock as your eyes widen in alarm.

“You’re joking.”

“It’s bad, (Y/N),” he says quietly into the phone. “I’ve never seen him like this before.”

A heavy sigh falls from you as you gnaw at the inside of your lip.

“Does he want anything?” You ask softly. “Coffee? Breakfast? A hammer to destroy his office?”

Mingyu chuckles on the other end.

“Coffee is always good for him,” he pauses, taking a deep breath. “A blowjob might work too.”

“Go fuck yourself,” you scoff, and Mingyu bursts out laughing at your response. “Give me an hour to get ready and I’ll be in.”

“Hurry, please,” he whines. “He’s doing that thing where he stares catatonically into nothing and it’s starting to scare me.”

You snort at that, shaking your head at Mingyu.

“Just give him encouraging pats on the back,” you joked, grinning. “And tell him he’s doing a great job.”

“He’s not going to like it if I do it,” Mingyu grumbles. “He only likes you.”

“Suck it up you big baby,” you tease. “You’ll be fine.”

Not waiting to hear his response, you end the call with a huff as you flop back down onto your pillows, staring up at the ceiling. The intense burn that had ignited between your thighs had simmered to a dull ache, the arousal from the very vivid dream a now distant memory. Clenching your thighs together to soothe the remnants of your desire, you ran a hand over your face before reluctantly rolling out of bed.

On a normal day, most of your coworkers would have still been half asleep, dragging their feet around the office as they fought off the remnants of slumber. The morning hours were usually somber, few words spoken between each other as they tried to finish their morning coffees.

Today was not one of those days.

The second you step out of the elevator, you’re met with utter chaos of chatter and frantic pacing — almost like they were chickens with their heads cut off. You’re frozen to the spot as you watch the group around you shove papers into each other's hands and point in the direction of the copier, demands upon demands being yelled at to one another.

“Jesus Christ,” you muttered.

Clutching the carrier of coffee in your hand, you weave in between the frazzled group as you make your way straight to Wonwoo’s office, not even bothering to drop your stuff on your desk as you push his door open. Mingyu sits with his back to you, head snapping up to look at you with a sigh of relief as you make your way into the office. Across from him sits your boss who, true to Mingyu’s word, was staring into the abyss with his hands folded on his desk.

Cautiously you’re walking over to Wonwoo and placing a gentle hand on his back, your other one putting the coffee on his desk as you offer a soothing pat to his broad stature. Wonwoo had abandoned his glasses, the specs splayed out carelessly in front of him, and his sharp eyes are settling on you as you rubbed his back. As your gaze met his, you were reminded of the dream you had before Mingyu had so rudely interrupted it.

The image of Wonwoo laying you out on this very desk, mouth on your breasts and hands resting somewhere a boss’s hands shouldn’t be on their assistant. Heat fills your body as you watch him lean into your touch, his stern expression softening, and he’s graciously taking the coffee from you as he grabs your hand in his.

“Thank you for this,” he accepts, graciously. “You always seem to know when I need it.”

From out of the corner of your eye, you see the smug smirk on Mingyu’s face and you fight back the urge to kick him in the shin as you offer your boss a small smile.

“You don’t have to keep thanking me,” you reply, squeezing his hand in reassurement before pulling away. “I am your assistant, after all. It’s my job to know these things.”

The brief softened gaze on his face hardens once more at your words and he’s watching in silence as you move to the opposite side of the desk to take a seat next to Mingyu. His sharp gaze falls over the two of you, eyes scrutinizing your every move, and you push away the heat blooming in between your legs as you cross them.

Mingyu peers between the two of you, an eyebrow quirked attentively before he’s leaning forward in his chair.

“Do you want to break the news or should I?”

Wonwoo’s jaw clenched, his expression stony as he looks at you.

“Seungcheol asked me to push up the deadline,” he pauses, and you catch him gritting his teeth in aggravation.

“How soon?” You ask, nervously taking a sip of your coffee. Wonwoo doesn’t miss a beat.

“This Friday.”

The coffee almost splutters from your mouth as you choke in surprise, eyes widening as you look between the two men.

“That’s in three days!” You exclaim. “Not to mention I’m off that day!”

Mingyu offers you a pitiful expression while Wonwoo remains stoic, the difference between them comparable to night and day.

“Not anymore, you’re not,” Wonwoo denies, and you feel your heart clench. “We need you here.”

Resentment begins to build in your body as you shoot your boss an incredulous look, anger boiling in your veins.

“Why did you even agree to this?” You asked harshly, making Wonwoo tense up. “You could’ve asked him to give you until at least Monday.”

Wonwoo’s lips press into a thin line and you just know he’s holding back from scolding you in front of Mingyu.

“It was out of my control,” he shrugs, and the nonchalant response has you rising out of your seat as the anger inside of you bubbles.

“Bullshit!” You bite back, and Wonwoo’s face hardens.

“Watch yourself, (Y/N),” he warns, making you scoff.

“I’m allowed to be angry, Mr. Jeon,” you point out. “Very rarely do I get a day off and the one time I do, you make the decision to take that away from me.”

Wonwoo’s jaw clenched are your words, his sharp eyes glinting with fury as he looks down the bridge of his nose at you.

“You are my assistant, Ms. (L/N),” he bites out. “When I’m here, you’re here.”

You were certain that if you had been a cartoon character, steam would’ve been emitting from your ears as you glare at the man in front of you.

“I have plans,” you grit harshly. Wonwoo doesn’t bat an eye.

“Reschedule them.”

Mingyu can only watch the two of you with an open mouth, utterly shocked at the exchange happening before him.

In your last attempt to make him change his mind, you grit your teeth as you shoot your boss a look of fury.

“I have a date.”

The air between the three of you stilled.

You watched as Wonwoo’s shoulders tensed, a flash of jealousy in his eyes as he glowered at you from his desk. Mingyu’s eyes bugged out of his head, the businessman immediately pushing himself out his seat as he held his hands up in defense.

“I — I don’t think this concerns me,” he excuses himself, brown eyes glimmering in worry as he shoots you a look. “Come find me later when you’re both ready to talk about the presentation.”

You and Wonwoo stay silent as Mingyu walks out of the office, the door slamming shut behind him, and it’s then that Wonwoo stands up from his desk. His tall stature towering over the wood, a move he made with clients when he was trying to intimidate them — a move you’ve watched him make with everyone but you.

“I’m sure whoever it is will understand that your job comes first,” he pauses, his voice cold. “That I come first.”

You stand your ground, your furious gaze borrowing into his.

“Are you insisting that I don’t deserve a personal life?”

Wonwoo doesn’t back down in the slightest.

“I’m saying that this is your job,” he reiterates. “You’re my assistant. I’m your priority. When I’m needed, you’re needed.”

“So you’re telling me that any plans I make or have planned already have to be flexible so that I can accommodate you?”

“Precisely.”

A sharp inhale comes from you, angry tears threatening to spill over your cheeks as you fight them back. Your fists clench at your sides as you send your boss a menacing glare. You knew there was no way around this, you knew that no matter how much you defended yourself Wonwoo wasn’t going to back down.

You exhale slowly, keeping the tears at bay.

“It seems I don’t have much of a choice, do I?” You concede, trying to stabilize your shaky voice.

Clutching your coffee in your hand, you move to walk away from him when his warm hand encloses around yours, the hardened gaze he had kept focused on you softening as he caught sight of the tears pooling in your eyes.

“(Y/N)…”

Ripping your hand away from him, you shoot daggers towards him as you walk towards the door.

“I’m taking a walk,” you spat, voice quivering with emotion. “Don’t come after me.”

With that, you’re storming out of his office, making sure to slam the door behind you.

Hot tears are spilling over your cheeks as you frantically press the elevator button, your head hung low as you try to mask the sight of you crying as you wait for the doors to open, your body trembling with angry sobs as you bite them back, gritting your teeth in anger as the elevator dings. Stepping inside, you turn to face the lobby and catch the sight of a concerned Mingyu watching you as you press the close button.

As soon as the doors closed and you’re heading down, you’re pulling your phone from your pocket and dialing Soonyoung’s number, the blonde almost immediately answering the FaceTime call with a shocked look on his face.

“(Y/N), honey? What’s going on?”

His caring tone draws a fresh batch of tears in your eyes as you step outside of the elevator and walk into the lobby, making a beeline for the bathroom as you lock yourself in a stall. Defeated sobs wrack your body as you try to catch your breath.

“Soonie,” you cried, hastily wiping your tears. “I’m sorry I’m calling you like this.”

Soonyoung shakes his head, concern in his eyes as he stares back at you through the screen.

“Don’t apologize baby,” he reassured, softly. “We’ve all had bad days.”

Wiping your nose, you sniffle quietly as you nod, acknowledging his words.

“What happened, honey?”

“I think I’m going to have to miss out on your birthday, Soonie,” you say quietly, making Soonyoung whine.

“What?! Why?!”

“That big presentation that wasn’t due for two more weeks got pushed up to this Friday instead.”

“Oh, what the fuck?!” He groaned. “Aren’t you supposed to be off anyways?”

A bitter laugh escapes you at that, your teeth gritting together in anger as you nod.

“Keyword is supposed to,” you bite out, rolling your eyes. “But my boss said that I now have to come in. Actually — he pretty much said that I’m not entitled to a personal life.”

Soonyoung’s mouth opens in shock at that, his eyes widening.

“Are you fucking serious?” He asks, flabbergasted.

“I wish I wasn’t,” you affirm, sadly. “He said that since I’m his assistant – anywhere he is, I have to be right next to him. Plans or no plans, off of work or not.”

The blonde scoffs, eyes narrowing into a glare.

“That’s bullshit,” he spat, and you can’t help but to laugh without humor.

“Yeah,” you muttered. “I said the same thing.”

You watch as Soonyoung purses his lips in thoughts, a hopeful look crossing his features as he looks at you through the phone.

“The presentation shouldn’t take that long, right?” He asks. “Like you can skip the dinner and then just meet us right at the club instead!”

Your sullen expression morphs into a hopeful one as you consider his words, your head slowly nodding in acknowledgement as you offer the blonde a bright smile.

“Yeah,” you agreed. “I guess you’re right.”

“I’m always right,” he teases, making you scoff playfully.

“Whatever you say, Soonie,” you jest, making him laugh. “I should get back upstairs…”

Soonyoung smiles at you through the phone, offering you a gesture of encouragement as he grins.

“Deep breaths, honey!” He chimes. “Don’t let that asshole get to you.”

Smiling at him, you both exchange your goodbye before hanging up. A heavy sigh escapes you as you take a deep breath to compose yourself once more before unlocking the stall and walking to the sink. The pitiful expression that rested on your features made you want to sink down to the floor in embarrassment, your gaze flickering over the mascara that had streaked your cheeks from the waterfall of tears. Grumbling to yourself, you reach for some paper towels before wetting it under the sink and cleaning off the remnants of your breakdown, mentally cursing Wonwoo into oblivion.

Once you were set, you took an extra minute to collect your thoughts, trying to settle your still enraged mind as you made a silent vow to ignore the man you called your boss for the remainder of the week.

Should be easy, right?

Wrong.

With the silent vow in place, you had walked into the office the next day with every intention of ignoring him.

Until you catch sight of the vase of roses that sat on your desk.

The beautiful red petals bloomed in the crystal casing, the fragrance filling your senses as you leaned down to smell them. A solemn expression crosses your features as you pluck the card from between the petals, lips pursing in thought as you stare down at the writing.

‘I can’t do this without you.’

Your heart feels like it’s tearing at the seams as you look down at his handwriting, the messy scrawl of his admittance sending your stomach into a frenzy of butterflies, and you’re peering into his opened office door to see his sharp gaze awaiting your reaction. The gesture was sweet, sure, but you were also human – a human with feelings and a life. So instead of thanking him, you’re pushing away those damned butterflies and turning your head away from him as you silently set up your desk.

You didn’t look back at him once.

Despite other numerous attempts to gain your attention, you had successfully managed to give Wonwoo radio silence until it came time to get the presentation together. And, even then, you still sat tight-lipped as he and Mingyu went over the details of what’s to come within the next few hours as the three of you awaited Seungcheol’s arrival.

Your pen glides over your notepad as you jot down last minute ideas and thoughts, your tongue sticking out of the side of your mouth in concentration as you work quietly at the table. From the left of you, Mingyu types away at his laptop, quietly cursing at the powerpoint in front of him as he fixes the last minute details. To the right of you, you can already feel the pointed gaze in your direction from your boss as he sits silently beside the two of you, sharp eyes lingering on both yours and Mingyu’s forms as the two of you work diligently.

Wonwoo purses his lips, trying to bite back the amusement as he looks over at you two.

“I think this is the hardest I’ve ever seen you two work.”

Simultaneously, yours and Mingyu’s heads snap over to look at your boss, your eyes narrowed in an accusing glare while Mingyu’s twinkle with humor.

“We wouldn’t be working so hard if you hadn’t agreed to pushing up this damned meeting.”

Your voice comes out harsher than you intend to, but it doesn’t deter Wonwoo one bit.

“Ah,” he smirks. “She speaks.”

A menacing glare is shot towards him as you scoot your chair closer to Mingyu, trying to shift your attention back towards your notes, but you’re frozen in shock as Wonwoo grabs the back of your chair to slide you back closer to his side, sharp eyes gazing sadly at you.

“Look at me,” he murmurs, and you hear Mingyu cough awkwardly, trying not to watch the two of you as he types away at his laptop. “(Y/N), please.”

As much as you wanted to make him grovel a bit longer, you knew from the gifts and gestures he’d been giving you the past two days had been enough of an apology. So, reluctantly, you’re lifting your eyes to meet his brown ones, your breath catching in your throat as you hold his softened gaze. You can feel the butterflies begin to awaken in the pit of your stomach as your heart sped up in your chest, lips parting slightly as you stared at the devastatingly handsome man.

Reaching over, he’s gently grabbing your hand in his, all the while keeping his eyes on you.

“I’m sorry for making you come in on your day off,” he apologized, quietly. “I’m sorry for never giving you one to begin with.”

Wonwoo’s teeth grit as he tries to keep his expression neutral, his thumb gently soothes over the back of your hand.

“And I’m sorry for making you miss your… date.”

Date..? Oh – oh.

Your hardened gaze softens into one of understanding and you’re offering your boss a small smile, your hand turning in his as you clutch it.

“I forgive you,” you relent, squeezing his hand in reassurance. “And - I, uh, didn’t actually have a date.”

From out of the corner of your eye you see Mingyu’s head snap towards you, eyes wide as he looks between you and Wonwoo. The latter keeps his gaze on yours, the corners of his lips quivering ever so slightly as his sharp eyes trace for any sort of fabrication he can find. And then he laughs – a full, throwing his head back and cackling kind of laugh. One that sends your heart into overdrive as he grins widely.

“So you just wanted to enjoy some peace and quiet by yourself?” He asks, teasingly.

“No,” you deny, frowning. “I really did have plans, or rather, I still do after this. I’m going out for my friend’s birthday.”

Wonwoo’s eyes shine playfully as he pats your hand.

“It’s okay,” he grins. “As long as you forgive me and we get this presentation over and done with, you’ll be out of here in no time.”

As Wonwoo finishes speaking, the conference door all but flies open, a mass of blonde hair and a dimpled smile coming into view as Seungcheol walks through the door. The three of you stand simultaneously, nervous but warm smiles plastered on your faces as you greet the businessman. Wonwoo stands glued to the spot next to you as you watch Seungcheol greet Mingyu, the two shaking hands as they joke amongst themselves. It’s then that the severity and importance of this meeting finally hits you, your palms growing clammy with nerves as your brain clutters with what ifs and possible negative outcomes if everything fails between the two companies.

From behind you, Wonwoo must’ve noticed the sudden tension in your stature as he leans forward, a gentle hand placing itself on the small of your back as he leans in to brush his lips against your ear.

“Relax, sweetheart,” he murmurs quietly, his other hand reaching to squeeze yours in reassurance. “It’s going to be fine.”

Yet the warmth of his breath and the close proximity of his body pressing to yours as his cologne fills your senses does absolutely nothing to help your nerves. You squeeze his hand back in silent acknowledgement before dropping it as Seungcheol rounds on you, a bright smile on the blonde’s face as he offers you a hand.

“Ms. (Y/N),” he greets, beaming. “It’s always lovely to see you, beautiful.”

You can feel Wonwoo tense at the compliment and you fight the urge to rip your hand from his as you shake it, a tight-lipped smile being sent his way as he bowed your head.

“Nice to see you, Mr. Choi,” you greet. Seungcheol’s gaze falls between you and the man standing behind you, a knowing gleam in his eyes.

“Wonwoo you have yourself a dime here,” he compliments, smirking. “She has been nothing but amazing when it comes to the communication aspect. Not to mention she’s brilliant.”

Wonwoo keeps his hand on the small of your back while his other is outstretched towards his friend, the two shaking hands with a fierce grip as Wonwoo’s gaze hardens at the blonde.

“That she is,” he agreed. “I’m lucky to have her.”

Heat floods your cheeks at the competitive compliments between the two businessmen, a pleading look that screams ‘Help me’ is being sent towards Mingyu who stands behind Seungcheol with a puppy-like grin at the exchange, the taller man laughing quietly at your expense. Rolling your eyes, you break the silent competition between the two CEOs as you gesture towards the table.

“Shall we get started?”

Five hours. The presentation lasted for five fucking hours.

Between the glitches happening within the powerpoint and the constant stutter of your voice, you were positive that Seungcheol was going to stop the three of you halfway and just walk out – but he didn’t. Instead the blonde sat with a grin of amusement as you and Mingyu presented the possible numbers and outcomes of the two companies coming together for the project. Wonwoo sat stoic beside him, sharp eyes glued to you as you closed out of the final slide, anxiously awaiting his friend’s response as you clasped your hands together behind your back.

Seungcheol is beaming at you, dimples protruding from his cheeks, and he’s turning towards Wonwoo as he points in your direction.

“I like her,” he begins. “She’s got a strong head on her shoulders.”

Turning back towards you, Seungcheol leans on his elbows as he gestures towards the presentation.

“Despite the small hiccups from the technology, you did great, (Y/N),” he continues, praising you. “Both you and Mingyu did so well putting all of this together. I appreciate the dedication and hard work you’ve done for this, truly. Both of you would be an incredible asset to my company and I would absolutely be a fool to turn down the offer of working with both my friend and his amazing team.”

Surprise floods your features as you and Mingyu shoot each other identical looks of shock.

“Is – is that a yes for the project?”

Seungcheol laughs, nodding his head in affirmation.

“That’s a definite yes,” he beams. “It was a yes from the very first email you had sent me, if I’m honest. I just wanted to see what ideas you all had in mind – and I wanted to see this one sweat it out a little bit.”

You stifle a laugh as the blonde points to the stoic man behind him, Wonwoo grumbling under his breath as he rolls his eyes at his friend.

“So you just wanted to see me suffer?” Wonwoo asks, no emotion in his voice.

“Pretty much,” Seungcheol beams with amusement.

Wonwoo shakes his head as he stands up from his chair, his broad stature cracking with the release of tension as he stretches from sitting for so long.

“That’ll be it for today,” he dismisses, shooting Seungcheol a pointed look. “I think we’ve all been tortured enough.”

A wave of relief washes over you as your shoulders slump slightly, the tension being released from your body as you clean up the remnants of the presentation. From beside you, Mingyu is shooting you a thumbs up, silently praising your efforts before he’s packing up his laptop and zooming out of the room. As you zip up your bag and turn to leave, Seungcheol is gently grabbing your wrist to stop you, a playful look in his eyes as he offers you a small smile.

“You’re an extraordinary woman, Ms. (Y/N),” he compliments, and you feel your cheeks heat up as you fight to keep eye contact. “I have half a mind to steal you from Wonwoo and make you my own assistant.”

You open your mouth to retort when you feel the warmth of your boss press behind you, and you don’t even have to look up at him to know that he’s glaring daggers at the blonde.

“She would never leave me,” he dismisses, voice cold. “If there’s one thing I admire the most about Ms. (Y/N), it’s that she’s loyal to those around her.”

Wonwoo never breaks eye contact with Seungcheol, the two glaring daggers at one another as they stand tall and proud.

“Right, sweetheart?”

You swallow thickly, rolling your eyes at the ego exchange between the two of them, and you playfully hit Wonwoo’s shoulder before grabbing your things.

“Both of you need to relax,” you jest, playfully. “Mr. Choi, I appreciate the compliment but I fear that this one needs me the most.”

Seungcheol smirks at that, a knowing look in his eyes as he looks between you and Wonwoo.

“I’m starting to see that,” he responds, coolly.

Wonwoo stays silent as you make your way to the door, a weary glance thrown between the two of them before you’re opening it with a call over your shoulder.

“Try not to let your ego’s get the best of the two of you while I’m gone, please.”

And with that, you’re out the door before you can see Seungcheol wiggle his eyebrows suggestively at Wonwoo, the latter sending a glare of warning at the blonde who now caught on to the situation.

“(Y/N)!”

Your gaze lands on a beaming Soonyoung as you make your way through the crowd of bodies, a matching grin dancing across your lips as you reach where he stood. His arm lazily drapes around your shoulder in a half hug, the man’s infectious giggle ringing over the blaring music. Returning the embrace, you hug him in greeting before breaking apart. You can feel your friend vibrating with excitement as he grabs your hand and pulls you over to the roped off section where the rest of your friends were occupying. As soon as you cross the threshold, there’s a glass of champagne being placed in your hand and Soonyoung is tugging you towards the group.

“Look who finally showed up!”

Happy cheers of your name echoes amongst your group of friends, glasses being lifted in your direction as they greet you in unison. Lifting your glass in response, you beam at the group before downing the glass, warmth filling your body from the alcohol. From beside you Soonyoung cheers as you chug, the man wasting no time before shoving another drink into your now empty hand before scurrying off to the others. A chuckle falls from you as you watch him pull a half wasted Dokyeom to the dance floor, Seungkwan hot on their heels as the trio pulls out an abrupt dance routine.

Shaking your head at their antics, you take a seat next to Joshua at the table, the man offering you a gentle smile as he scoots to make room.

“It’s good to see you, (Y/N),” he greets. “It’s been too long since the last time you’ve come out with us.”

“I know,” you agree, regret washing over your features. “Work has been crazy lately. I haven’t really had much time to do anything else besides be at the office or trying to get some sleep.”

A look of sympathy flashes in his eyes, Joshua nodding in understanding.

“I get it,” he reassured you with a bright smile. “It sucks being an adult sometimes, doesn’t it?”

You laugh at his words before taking a sip of whatever it was that Soonyoung had given you.

“That it does, Shua. I sometimes wish we were kids again without a care in the world. No bills, no schedules — nothing but free time to do whatever we want.”

“Or until we get caught drinking in the school parking lot at midnight,” he points out, laughing.

“That’s different!” You say, taking another sip of your drink. “We would’ve never gotten caught had Soonyoung not brought out the Bluetooth microphone and started singing.”

Joshua’s head rolls back as he laughs louder, shaking his head at the memory.

“He really tried to get the cops to fall for his serenade,” he chortled. “We almost got locked in a cell for that one had it not been for me.”

You smile at the memory, gently tapping your glass against Shua’s.

“Thank god one of us had a brain that night,” you grin. “Otherwise we would’ve been screwed.”

Amusement twinkles in Joshua’s eyes and the brunette opens his mouth to speak before his gaze falls on a figure behind you, a deep voice cutting off his train of thought.

“Sorry we’re late, everyone.”

Your hand tightens around your glass at the voice, eyes widening in shock as your head snaps to look at the two figures towering over your table. The two familiar faces are night and day; one stands with a beaming smile, eyes shining and body bouncing to the beat of the music like an energetic puppy. The other is stoic, hands shoved into the pockets of his slacks while a pointed gaze rests underneath the thick rims of his glasses, his intense gaze sweeping over the group until it lands on your shocked ones.

Your lips part in disbelief, a string of curses tumbling incoherently from your mouth, and you straighten your posture as your boss stares back at you, dark eyes glinting with curiosity.

“You made it!”

Soonyoung’s boisterous voice booms over the loud music, the blonde drunkenly placing a glass of champagne in each of their hands before wrapping both of his arms around their shoulders and hugging them into him. From his right, Mingyu laughs boisterously, leaning into the embrace as he hugs his friend back.

“Yeah, sorry about that,” he apologized. “We were finishing up at the office.”

From the left of Soonyoung, Wonwoo stays silent, his piercing gaze locked on yours, and you catch the briefest sight of his jaw clenching as Soonyoung gestures towards you.

“I’m not sure if you’ve ever met her before,” he begins, beaming from ear to ear. “But this is (Y/N), my best friend since we were in diapers.”

Your heart pounds in your chest, the beat echoing in your ears and drowning out the music as you stare at your colleagues. Mingyu’s face falls into pleasant surprise before he’s letting out a laugh, muscular arms crossing over his broad stature.

“Small world,” he comments, shooting a look between you and your boss. Soonyoung’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion, a weary glance swept over the three of you.

“What do you mean?” The blonde asks curiously.

The scrutinizing gaze of your boss has you wanting to sink into the cushions of the booth and disappear, heat flaming your cheeks as the already too tight dress you were wearing somehow feels as if it’s melting into your skin, and you try to swallow the lump that had formed in your throat as Mingyu spoke once more.

“We work together,” he clarifies, a knowing smirk on his face. “She’s Wonwoo’s assistant.”

There’s a brief pause, realization sinking into Soonyoung’s features, before he’s turning towards the man on his left and smacking him on the shoulder.

“You’re her boss?!” He asks incredulously. “You’re the asshole who’s never giving her time off for a personal life?!”

Your eyes widened at his words, hands raising in defense as you move to kick Soonyoung in the shin.

“Soonyoung,” you hiss, glaring at the blonde.

Mingyu howls with laughter at that, his tall frame doubling over as he laughs at his friend. You’re mentally cursing at Soonyoung three times over as Wonwoo’s lips press into a thin line, the man sending a look of disapproval towards Mingyu who was holding his body up against Soonyoung, trying to calm himself down from the amusement. Your body grows hot with embarrassment as you run a hand over your face, wanting nothing more than for the ground to swallow you up.

“Yes,” Wonwoo finally says, deep voice rumbling with no amusement. “I’m the asshole boss.”

Soonyoung lands another playful tap against his friend’s chest, pointing an accusing finger at him.

“Give her a break, Wonu. She needs a vacation,” he pauses, looking between the two of you. “You both do.”

With one last love tap from Soonyoung, the blonde all but bounces back to the dance floor, Mingyu and Joshua in tow – leaving you and Wonwoo alone.

The tension in the air makes your throat dry, your shoulders sinking in embarrassment as you offer your boss an apologetic look.

“Mr. Jeon –”

“Your asshole boss, huh?”

Wonwoo’s harsh tone makes you want to crawl under a rock, shame filling your body, and your gaze sinks to the floor as you guiltily break eye contact.

‘He’s gonna fire me…’ You thought to yourself, trying to keep the panic that was seeping through your body at bay. ‘He’s going to tell me to pack my desk up and to never step foot into the building after tomorrow. That he’ll find a better assistant - one more compliant and who doesn’t talk back. Someone who says yes with no questions asked –’

“I suppose I deserve that.” Your head snaps back up, eyes wide with surprise, and there’s a ghost of a smile playing on his lips, brown eyes glinting in amusement. “Especially after all I’ve put you through this week.”

Your mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water, completely taken aback by the compliment, and you struggle to conjure a reply in your scattered brain as you stutter in response.

“I –” you flush, embarrassed at the lack of words you can conjure. “Mr. Jeon –”

“Wonwoo,” he corrects.

There’s a playful glint in his eyes as he takes a step closer to slide across from where you sat in the booth.

“At the office, I’m Mr. Jeon,” he smiles softly. “But when we’re outside of work or if it’s just you and I, it’s Wonwoo.”

Oh, fuck…

There’s heat pooling in your stomach at his words, thousands of tiny butterflies fluttering in its depths, and suddenly it’s a thousand degrees hotter in the club than it already was. Your palms are clammy, sweat beading at the nape of your neck, and you manage to send him back a small smile as you nod in acknowledgement.

“Okay,” you concede, lifting your glass to take a sip. “Wonwoo.”

There’s a sharp inhale on his end, broad shoulders stiffening for a millisecond, before he offers you a kind smile. You watch as he takes a sip of his champagne, his gaze never breaking from yours.

“So you’re the unfortunate one who’s had to deal with Soonyoung for all of these years,” he smirks, teasingly. You can’t help but to laugh at that before shaking your head at his words.

“He’s really not as bad as you think,” you defend. “In a way it’s almost as if I’m taking care of a child.”

A beautiful, melodic deep rumble escapes him and you’d be lying if you said that the low timbre of his voice didn’t send a wave of heat straight in between your legs, instinctively making you subtly shift to crossing them underneath the table.

“Perhaps that is enough reason to offer a compensation for your efforts,” he drawls. “Maybe even a raise.”

You quirk an eyebrow at that, sending the man a playful glare.

“Don’t tease me,” you warn, grinning. “I might just take you up on that.”

Wonwoo smirks, butterflies erupting in your stomach as your eyes glanced down at his lips. A wave of desire rushes through you as a fleeting thought of what they would feel like against your skin runs through your mind, your throat going dry as an image of you and Wonwoo tangled in bedsheets flashed in your mind. Immediately you’re clearing your throat and tearing your gaze away, shame flaming your cheeks as you take a sip from your drink.

“How do you know Soonyoung?” You ask, making Wonwoo smile at the question.

“I had a project with his father in the past,” he explains. “Soonyoung was just starting out as his assistant and was learning the ropes of his father’s company. Naturally, I took him under my wing and became his business mentor. I know how hard it is to work in a company that’s family owned. Our fathers don’t go easy on us despite us being their sons.”

“From what it sounds like,” you began, smirking at him. “It seems to me as if you also need to be compensated as well for your efforts.”

Wonwoo laughs, his glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose slightly as he leans forward.

“Maybe Soonyoung’s right,” he grins. “Maybe we both need a vacation.”

Your eyebrow quirks at that, eyes glinting in curiosity as you peer at him.

“Are you offering me time off?”

“Maybe someday,” he teases, eyes shining mischievously. “The best I can offer you right now is a dance with me.”

Your breath catches in your throat, and the butterflies take flight once more, your eyes widening in surprise before you catch yourself. Clearing your throat, you take another sip of your drink before looking up at him teasingly.

“I didn’t realize you danced,” you jest.

Wonwoo pushes himself out of the booth before holding his hand out to you, silently offering. The warmth of his hand enveloping yours has electric shocks running down your spine as he helps you up, his hand cautiously placed on the small of your back as he leaned down towards you.

“I usually don’t,” he affirmed, a wild glint in his eye as he leaned closer to your ear. “But I can make an exception when it involves certain people.”

Had he not been guiding you, you were pretty sure your knees would’ve buckled from his comment, heat flooding your cheeks as you let him move you towards the dance floor. Playful banter and teasing comments had always been a part of the dynamic, given the frequent amount of time the two of you were around each other, harmless flirting here and there wasn’t unnatural. But this is the first time you were seeing him – that you were really looking at him – outside of an office setting.

The normal Wonwoo who was holed up in his office all day; barking orders and commands to his staff, the man who gives you endless tasks left and right, the man who sat rigidly by your side in countless board meetings and projects. The man who you thought was nothing but a ball of stress stuffed in a business suit now stood in front of you with nothing holding him back as he pulled your body flush against his. He’s carefree, a warm glow in his eyes, and he’s offering you the sweetest smile as the pair of you settle within the crowd. The usual long sleeves of his button down are rolled up neatly to his elbow, his broad frame nearly making the buttons protrude from the seams, and you’re silently wishing the heavens above to give you even the slightest peek of toned skin beneath the fabric.

His hand rests comfortably on your lower back, slender fingers almost gripping the fabric of your dress as the two of you danced amongst the crowd of people. The dim lighting casts his face in an exquisite shadow, the defined angular shape of his jaw accentuated in the low lights, making his sharp features appear even more striking beneath the thick rims of his glasses. He’s beautiful, almost godly like, and the heat of his toned body against yours is making your head spin.

For the first time, you’re seeing him.

Your hand is clasped in his as he twirls you out, then back into him, a devastatingly beautiful smile painted on his lips replacing the usual scowl he wore in the office. You can’t help but to mirror him, beaming in delight as the two of you dance.

“Who would’ve thought Mr. Jeon Wonwoo, big bad CEO, would be such a great dancer,” you tease him, relishing in the low rumble of his laugh. You watch as his nose crinkles with the action, your heart blooming in your chest as he leans in closer towards you.

“That’s not all I’m good at.”

If his words weren’t enough to send a flood of heat through your body, it was the goddamn wink he sent you that did it. You can’t even articulate words as Soonyoung beckons the two of you over to dance with the group, Wonwoo reluctantly letting you go as the two of you made your way over to them.

You weren’t sure when the exact moment was that the line between you and your boss had begun to shift into something else, something far beyond a workplace partnership — but after tonight, it was an inevitable change.

And you’d be lying if you said you weren’t curious to see where it went next.

You felt the presence before they had even uttered a word, your gaze shifting from your computer to the smirking face of the man in front of you as he leaned against your desk.

“So,” he began. “Are we going to talk about it?”

You gave him a blank stare.

“Talk about what?” You asked, even though you knew what he was hinting at.

“C’mon, (Y/N),” Mingyu whines, standing upright to bounce on his feet. “We can’t not talk about what happened the other night.”

You purse your lips at his words as you rub your temples in annoyance. You knew you couldn’t avoid the situation in its entirety, but you also knew that addressing it would imply that there was something… there to begin with — and there wasn’t. At least, not yet.

“Nothing happened,” you reply curtly. “I was out with friends.”

Mingyu scoffs, arms crossing over his broad chest as he gives you an incredulous look.

“So we’re not going to talk about how the two of you were practically fucking on the dance floor.”

You blanched at that, eyes widening in surprise, and you’re casting a weary glance towards the open door behind you. Wonwoo sits idly in concentration at his desk, the man scribbling something down on his notepad.

“Lower your voice,” you hissed at Mingyu once you turned back towards him. “He’s right there.”

“You didn’t deny it,” Mingyu beams.

“We were just dancing!” You defended. “It was harmless. And innocent, contrary to popular belief.”

“Innocent?” He mocks, raising an eyebrow. “He doesn’t just dance with anyone, (Y/N). Especially not like that.”

You try to ignore the sudden presence of fluttering in the pit of your stomach, the butterflies flying freely through your body as your mind flashes back to the dance you had shared with your boss. The warmth of his body against yours, the gentle brush of his lips against your ear, the teasing words exchanged… It had all been too much to process in one night — and, yet in the same breath, not enough.

“Well whether it was or not, nothing’s going to come from it. Nothing can come from it.”

A look of sympathy flashes across Mingyu’s face at that, his round eyes narrowing with pity.

“You never know,” he reassured with a gentle smile. “There’s always a chance that something could happen.”

You scoff at that, rolling your eyes as you turn back to your computer.

“Not as long as he’s my boss,” you muttered.

Mingyu opened his mouth to retort when a throat clears from behind the two of you. Almost immediately you’re whipping around to see Wonwoo leaning against the doorframe of his office, an accusing glance being thrown towards you and Mingyu as he pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

“Is there a problem?”

Wonwoo’s voice is harsh, sharp eyes shifting between the two of you before he’s zeroing in on your gaze. His shoulders are straightened in a tension and you bite back a whimper as you watch the taut muscles of his chest strain against the confinements of his button down.

“N- no, sir,” you stuttered out, shaking your head. “Mingyu just had a question regarding the merger with Mr. Choi.”

Wonwoo’s lips press into a thin line, his jaw clenching as his gaze shifts to Mingyu, the aforementioned man peeling himself from your desk as he straightens his posture.

“That’s right,” Mingyu agrees. “I had a quest —“

“The next time you have a question about anything regarding business matters you come see me,” Wonwoo cuts him off with a harsh glare. “Ms. (Y/N) has enough on her plate. She doesn’t need you bothering her too. Nor do I appreciate you distracting her from her work.”

There’s a brief flash of shock dancing across Mingyu’s face, his big eyes widening at his friend’s words, before realization takes its place and he’s grinning like a kid in a candy shop.

“Oh,” he beams. “I get it.”

Wonwoo’s eyes narrow in a scrutinizing gaze while you stare at your boss, mouth slightly ajar from his earlier statement.

“Mr. Jeon it’s really not a big deal —“

“You’re dismissed, Mingyu. (Y/N), my office. Now.”

The contrast between the Wonwoo you had seen at the club compared to the one that was in front of you now was like night and day. The other night he had been carefree, lively, and sweet. The man that stood in front of you now was cold. The playful twinkle in his eyes had completely vanished, instead, replaced by a harsh glare as he all but stomped back into his office.

You’re completely ridden speechless as you watch your boss’s retreating form, a painful tug at your heartstrings has a frown forming on your lips.

Mingyu lets out a low whistle.

“I seem to have awakened the beast.”

Your head snaps back to look at his smirking face, a knowing glint in his eyes as he nods his head in the direction of Wonwoo’s office.

“Maybe true love’s kiss can melt his cold heart.”

Without thinking you’re reaching for your pen before chucking it in Mingyu’s direction, a bark of a laugh escaping him as he’s running away. Grumbling under your breath, you make a mental note to get him back later when a shout comes from behind you.

“(Y/N)!”

Your blood runs cold at the harsh call of your name, worry flooding your body as you hastily push yourself from your desk to make your way to Wonwoo’s office, panic running through you as you cross the threshold.

“Close the door behind you,” he orders, head nodding in the direction of the door, and you’re on high alert as the open barrier becomes sealed, leaving the two of you in his office. Alone.

Nervously you’re taking a seat in front of him, your ankles crossing as you sit with your shoulders tensed up. Wonwoo’s stare makes you want to curl up into a ball and hide, the intensity of his gaze sending goosebumps of anxiety up the nape of your neck.

Wonwoo inhales a sharp breath, nostrils flaring as he exhales, and he’s gritting his jaw as his hands fold in front of him on his desk.

“Is Mingyu bothering you?”

Confusion sweeps over you as your eyebrows furrow.

“Bothering me?” You ask, and you watch as Wonwoo’s knuckles turn white from clenching his hands together.

“Bothering you,” he says again. “Flirting with you? Asking you on dates? All of the above?”

Your eyes widen at his questions, your hands coming up in defense as you shake your head.

“No!” You deny. “None of the above. Absolutely none of the above.”

There’s a slight release of tension in his shoulders but his stoic face remains the same.

“If he was you would tell me, right?” He asks, giving you a pointed look.

“Of course,” you affirm. “If anyone was bothering me I would let you know.”

Wonwoo’s gaze stays locked on you as he digests your words, the man slowly unclenching his hands before he nods in response.

“Good,” he relents. “I wouldn’t want to lose one of my best employee’s because he doesn’t know how to control himself.”

You can feel the heat dance across your cheeks at his implication, embarrassment filling your body as you sink into the chair further.

“It’s never been like that,” you reassure him. “Only friendly banter.”

Wonwoo nods, accepting your words.

“I believe you,” he reaffirmed.

A tense silence falls over the two of you, the air thickening around you as you swallow the nervous lump that had formed in your throat from when he had called you into his office. His intense stare has you breaking eye contact in an effort to gain your composure, a ragged breath escaping you as your gaze zeroes into a random plank of wood on his floor.

“Is that all you needed from me?” You ask meekly, not lifting your head to look at him.

There’s a brief silence before Wonwoo responds.

“How’s the project going?”

Right… the project, of course.

Straightening your posture, you reluctantly lifted your head from the floor and met Wonwoo’s gaze once more. Those damned butterflies return instantly when you see the corners of his lips turn up into a small smile.

“Good,” you breathed out. “I’m finishing up the presentation for our next monthly board meeting. We’ve been making a lot of progress since we met up with Mr. Choi —“

“Have you eaten yet?” Wonwoo cuts you off, making your eyebrows furrowed in confusion at the sudden question.

“Not yet,” you respond. “I was planning to work on a few more things before I took a break.”

“You should join me for lunch,” he offers a gentle smile, a complete contrast to the frown he had when you had first walked into the office.

“I — I have so much to do, Mr. Jeon —“

“I’m sure it can wait,” he reassures you. “Besides, you can’t work on an empty stomach.”

Pushing himself away from his desk, Wonwoo stands up and throws his blazer on as he nods his head in the direction of the door.

“As your boss, I’m requesting that you have lunch with me.”

You frown at that.

“That’s not fair,” you mutter. “You know I can’t say no to you.”

“Precisely,” Wonwoo grins as he helps you up from the chair.

Your lips pursed in thought as you stared at the man before you. Not even ten minutes ago he was a huffing and puffing mess, anger flaring in his cold dark eyes. Now he stood in front of you with that same mischievous glint in his irises like the other night. The constant back and forth between his emotions is giving you a metaphorical whiplash.

“Fine,” you concede. “But you’re buying.”

Wonwoo doesn’t smirk in response, nor does he wave you off. Instead he’s tipping his head back and letting out a hearty laugh, the deep rumble making your heart pound in your chest as you stare dumbfoundedly at the man in front of you.

“I can work with that,” he agreed, beaming. “We can discuss more about this presentation as well.”

The dimly lit restaurant you’re taken to does nothing to rid you of the untamable butterflies fluttering wildly in the pit of your stomach as you sit across from Wonwoo. You can feel the nervous jitters in your body as you try not to tremble beneath your boss’s gaze while you try to keep your attention focused on the menu, your teeth biting into your bottom lip as you stoically stare at the page.

The romantic ambience of the restaurant is telling of itself; low lighting, soft music playing, and a waiter filling a glass of wine for you — a glass of which Wonwoo approved for you to drink despite you being on the clock. A drink which, also, did absolutely nothing for your nerves.

“See anything you like?”

Wonwoo’s deep voice pulls you from your inner turmoil and you’re reluctantly breaking your gaze from the menu to look up at him. His glasses are perched comfortably on the bridge of his nose, his lips offering a gentle smile, a smile that you can’t help but to let your gaze fall on as you stare at the curve of his Cupid’s bow.

“A few things,” you murmur, nodding at him. “There’s so many options.”

“Well,” he pauses, gesturing towards the menu. “If you trust me, I’ll order for us.”

Your eyebrow piques in interest at that, a teasing look dancing in your eyes.

“Yeah?” You muse, humming softly. “You think you know me that well?”

Wonwoo smirks as he places his menu down, his sharp eyes giving you a once over that sends the butterflies in your stomach into a frenzy.

“I’d like to think so,” he responds, giving you a knowing look.

Crossing your arms over your chest, you give him a playful look back as you lean against the cushion of the chair.

“What’s my favorite color?” You ask.

His smirk doesn’t falter at your question.

“Purple,” he answers. “More specifically, a light purple. Like lilac or lavender.”

You blanched at that, not expecting him to actually answer, let alone know the answer.

“Oh,” you said quietly, blinking in surprise.

“You mentioned to me once that the colors represent kindness and innocence. Two things which you felt represented both yourself and what you wanted people to gain from you.”

Your heart soared in your chest at his words, a feeling of gratitude sweeping over you as you offered him a shy smile.

“You remembered,” you murmured, making Wonwoo smile in response.

“I remember a lot of things about you.”

Heat rushed to your cheeks. His response had rendered you speechless and you were utterly grateful for the waiter’s timing as he came back to your table to take your orders — which Wonwoo took care of. You could barely register what was exchanged between the two as you stared at your boss in admiration, completely melting on the spot from his response.

Your eyes are still locked on the beautiful man in front of you as the waiter takes both of the menus, your heart beating rapidly against your ribcage as the two of you are left alone once more. The flickering flame of the candle casts a shadow along Wonwoo’s face, the dim lighting accentuating his strong jaw and sharp eyes as he leans forward on his elbows.

Blinking out of your daze, you swallow the lump of nervousness before clearing your throat.

“So the project is going well,” you began, taking a sip of your wine. “Mingyu has been working on the potential projections of the outcome and I’ve got the PowerPoint almost finished. We’re a little past the halfway point now.”

Wonwoo says nothing. He only offers you a small smile in response.

“I think we can really pull this off,” you continued. “Between your brilliant business mind and Mr. Choi’s ability to persuade pretty much anyone, the two of you are in the midst of creating something amazing.”

There’s a mischievous glint in Wonwoo’s eyes as he looks at you, the smile on his face not faltering once.

“You think I’m brilliant?”

You flush at his words before shifting nervously in your seat, lifting your glass of wine to your lips as you take another sip.

“I mean,” you purse your lips, giving him a knowing look. “You wouldn’t be the CEO if you weren’t.”

You spot the slightest clench in his jaw as his soft features harden at your words.

“I’m the CEO because my father stepped down,” he pointed out. You frown at that.

“Mr. Jeon —“

“Wonwoo,” he cuts you off sharply.

His brash tone deters you for a moment, hurt flashing in your eyes before you mask it with confusion.

“What?” You ask meekly.

“Do you remember what I said at the club?” He asks, the harsh tone still evident in his voice. “Do you remember anything from that night?”

“Of course I do,” you defended yourself. “I wasn’t even tipsy.”

Wonwoo’s jaw sets as he grits his teeth.

“Then you should remember that I said to call me by name when we’re alone.”

And just like that the butterflies are back with a vengeance — only to multiply tenfold when he leans across the table to grab your hand in his, lacing your fingers together before resting it back onto the table.

“Wonwoo…”

His name falls from your lips in a hushed voice, heat pooling in your stomach as he squeezed your hand in reassurance.

“You’re nervous,” he points out, smirking. You frown at that.

“Can you blame me?” You ask incredulously, gesturing towards your linked hands. “I’m holding hands with my boss.”

“You’re holding hands with your friend,” he corrects. “A friend who just so happens to be your boss. A boss that you’re also on a date with.”

Your mouth slacks at that, eyes widening in shock as you make a move to draw back only for him to tighten his grip so you can’t move away from him. His thumb sweeps over the back of your hand in an effort to soothe you but it only makes the heat in your belly spread to your lower body, your thighs clenching in response as you look away bashfully.

“I thought this was a business lunch,” you mutter, cheeks aflame with embarrassment. Wonwoo lets out a low chuckle.

“Did you not want this to be a date?”

Your face falls at that.

“It’s not that I don’t want this to be a date,” you reassure him. “It’s that… this can’t be a date.”

“And why not?” He asks, eyebrows raised in question. You blink at him.

“You’re my boss,” you reiterate. “Whether we’re friends outside of work or not you’re still my boss, Wonwoo.”

Wonwoo stares back with a blank look on his face.

“I fail to see your point, (Y/N).”

Before you could reply, the waiter had returned with both of your plates of food, placing them in front of each of you before refilling your wine glass. Wonwoo’s sharp gaze is still locked on yours, his grip on your hand refusing to let go, and he watches intently as you take a long swig of the alcohol. Your nerves are completely shot, mind going haywire from the conversation, and the wine is only intensifying the heat between your legs as you try to collect yourself.

And then he’s bringing your hand up to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to your skin. Your breath hitches and Wonwoo catches it, smirking in response.

“Eat your food, sweetheart. It’s going to get cold.”

The bustling diner is thriving with patrons as you sit with Soonyoung and Joshua in a booth at the corner of the room, the two of them engaging in an animated conversation as you sit idly across from them, your mind completely far off from where you were currently at.

Ever since the night of Soonyoung’s party it’s like your world has been flipped upside down and spinning on its axis. Wonwoo has gotten more brazen in his advances; leaving you flowers on your desk, buying you lunch, fleeting touches of hands brushing as you pass each other in the hallway. The actions are subtle, most of the other employee’s not seeming to catch onto the attraction between the two of you, all except Mingyu who has decided to make it his life mission to get the two of you together.

After finding out that Wonwoo had taken you out to lunch (and called it a date) or much less, finding out that his boss had subtly confessed his feelings to you, he’s taken it upon himself to play Cupid — much to your dismay. Because even though your feelings for Wonwoo were strong, and grew more and more with each romantic gesture, the fact of the matter is, he's still your boss.

A heavy sigh breaks your friends from their conversation, two pairs of concerned eyes looking at you from across the table. Joshua frowns, Soonyoung’s eyebrows furrow. The former leans across the table to place a gentle hand on yours, and a part of you longed for it to have been Wonwoo’s in its place instead.

“What’s going on in that head of yours, (Y/N)?” Joshua asks softly, making you heave another sigh.

“I’m falling in love with somebody I can’t have,” you muttered, making Soonyoung’s eyes widen.

“Honey…” Joshua coos, rubbing your hand in soothing circles.

Your heart twinges with hurt as your face falls, shoulders slumped as a frown forms on your lips.

“I don’t even know how this happened,” you began, pouting. “One day he was my boss… the next he’s the man I want to come home to every night.”

Realization sweeps over Soonyoung’s face at your words, his lips parting in surprise.

“Wonwoo?” He asks, making Joshua’s eyebrows furrow in question. “You’re in love with Wonwoo?”

“How do you know it’s Wonwoo?” Joshua counters, but the look on your face is enough confirmation.

“Wonwoo is my boss,” you clarify. “I didn’t know he was friends with Soonyoung until he showed up to his party.”

“Oh,” Joshua mutters.

“And I’m not in love with him,” you glared at Soonyoung. “Not yet, at least. Although if he keeps getting me flowers and buying me food it’ll be a different story.”

“He’s what?!” Soonyoung gapes, open mouthed.

A wave of heat washes over your cheeks, embarrassment flooding your body as you bashfully look down at the table.

“He’s been getting me gifts,” you admitted softly. “I’ll come into the office in the morning to either a bouquet of flowers or a nice warm meal waiting for me. Sometimes both if he’s in a good mood.”

Soonyoung’s shock doesn’t falter, Joshua gives you a knowing look.

“Sounds like the feelings are mutual,” Joshua points out. “Maybe you should give him a chance —“

“He’s my boss, Shua,” you counter. “That’s a line I’m not allowed to cross.”

“Maybe you should cross it,” Soonyoung cuts in.

“I can’t —“

“(Y/N), I love you. We’ve been friends since we were in diapers, I wouldn’t steer you wrong. So believe me when I say that in the years that I’ve known Wonwoo, not once has he ever gotten a woman a gift, let alone tried to pursue one willingly.”

You freeze at that.

Knowing how invested he is with his job, it makes sense that Wonwoo wouldn’t have time to date nor be able to court a woman. But, in the same token, nobody that gorgeous and down to earth couldn’t have had someone he was the least bit interested in.

“I don’t know if I believe that,” you mutter. “Have you seen him? There’s gotta be women wanting him from every corner of the world.”

“Women may want him, honey, but he wants nothing to do with them,” Soonyoung pauses, a knowing look on his face. “Unless it’s you, apparently.”

Joshua chuckles at that, a reassuring smile on his face as he reaches over to place a hand on yours.

“Just think about it,” he suggests, encouragingly. “Weigh out the pro’s and con’s and go from there.”

Nodding in acknowledgement, you opted to stay silent and focus on the menu instead, pushing away any thought of your boss and his feelings towards you as you ignore those damned butterflies in your stomach.

PROS:

Despite his rigid appearance, he’s quite kind

He listens to me when I have ideas and encourages me to speak up in board meetings despite my lack of status

He remembers things about me – which is still utterly baffling

He’s patient

He’s handsome (unfairly so)

Gift giving as a love language… along with words of affirmation (both a plus for me - dating or not)

CONS:

He’s my boss

The list stares at you with a daunting realization that, yes, the pro’s absolutely outweighed the single con that you could come up with – and, yet, in the same token, so much was at stake if you made the decision to further your relationship with your boss. With every pro that you could list, the thought of ‘He’s my boss’ still outnumbered the choice that your heart had been dying for you to make.

A heavy sigh escapes you as you stare at the word document, lips pursed in thought as your mind flutters back to the conversation you had with Joshua and Soonyoung.

“Maybe you should cross it.”

The line between you and Wonwoo had always been slightly blurred. Between endless flirty compliments and comments and looks that a boss and his assistant should not have been giving to one another, you knew that it had never just been a workplace friendship between the two of you. Not when you would spend countless nights wondering what it would be like to have your boss laying next to you, broad muscly arms enveloping you in a warmth you never wanted to be free of.

And that was what scared you.

“What is that?”

You nearly jump out of your skin at the sound of Wonwoo’s voice behind you, a shriek escaping you as you click on your email app to pop up instead of the word document, heat flooding your cheeks with embarrassment as you turn to meet the curious gaze of your boss.

“My grocery list,” you reply, lying through your teeth. “I have to pick up a few things on my way home and I didn’t want to forget anything so I wrote it down.”

Wonwoo peers curiously, sharp eyes resting underneath the thick rims of his glasses, and there’s a smirk of amusement on his face as he crosses his arms over his chest.

“Well I don’t think you have to worry about them tonight,” he replies, coolly. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion at his words.

“What do you mean?”

“We’re going out tonight,” he clarified, his smirk widening when surprise floods your face.

“Going… out?” You ask, dumbly. “Going out where?”

“Well, since Soonyoung found out that I’m your boss, he’s taken it upon himself to guilt trip me into not only going out tonight, but to bring you along as well.”

A groan escapes you at that, your hand running over your face with embarrassment as Wonwoo chuckles lightly.

“Oh, god,” you whined. “Mr. Jeon I’m sorry –”

“Wonwoo.”

Your gaze meets his amused one as you lifted your head to look at him.

“Wonwoo,” you corrected, looking around the empty office. “He doesn’t understand the term ‘boundaries’ sometimes.”

“I know,” he grins. “Which is why I told him we would both be there.”

You frown at that, looking back towards your computer as you stared at the word app, your mind fluttering to the list that you had been working on.

“I –” you paused, biting the inside of your lip. “I have so much work to do –”

“Sweetheart, I'm offering you a break,” he laughs quietly, looking at you with an expectant look. “Are you really going to turn that down?”

‘He’s your boss, (Y/N). Say no. You know what can happen if you’re stuck with him.’

“Fine,” you concede, sighing softly. “But I have to run home and get changed.”

If the thought of another night out with your boss didn’t already make your heart race, it was the words he whispered to you after that definitely made heat pool between your thighs.

“Why?” He asks, quirking an eyebrow. “You’re beautiful already.”

Your eyes widened at his compliment, your throat tightening, and you swallowed the lump that had formed out of nervousness before waving him off.

“If you say so,” you dismissed, shutting down your computer. Wonwoo only beams, nose crinkling with happiness as he offers you his arm.

Wonwoo was glued to your side the moment the two of you had stepped into the club, his hand resting on your lower back as he carefully guided you through the crowd. Bodies were pressed against each other without a care in the world, the party goers dancing without thought as they enjoyed their night, and a part of you envied them — envying that they didn’t have to think about the man currently pressing you against him as he shuffles the two of you towards your friends.

The heat from Wonwoo’s body completely engulfs you as he pressed himself against you, the hand that was on your back now sliding to the dip of your hip as he pulls you into him. The scent of his cologne fills your senses and draws you to him, your body molding into his as he leans down to press his lips against your ear.

“Soonyoung is right there,” he points, gesturing towards the bubbly blonde now dancing with Seungkwan. “I’ll meet you over there. I’m getting us drinks.”

Before you can say anything, a chaste kiss is being pressed to your cheek. Your eyes widened as your boss slithered through the dancing bodies, shock filling you at the gentle brush of his lips on your skin as your mind tried to wrap around the fact that your boss had just kissed you. Butterflies erupted in the pit of your stomach at the gesture, your heart speeding up in your chest, and you can only suck in the shyness of the blush now heating your cheeks before you’re making your way towards your group of friends.

Joyful cheers erupt from the bunch as you come into view, glasses being held up in a toast as they acknowledge your arrival. You’re met with Soonyoung’s beaming face as you take a seat beside him, the bubbly blonde wrapping an arm around you as he gives you a one armed hug.

“From now on I’m just going to force Wonwoo to hang out with me,” he says, jokingly. “That seems to be the only way I can get you here!”

A small laugh escapes you as you shake your head at your friend, rolling your eyes playfully.

“It was a low blow, Soonie,” you reprimand, giving him a look. “You can’t boss him around just so that we can accompany you while you’re out.”

Soonyoung pouts, batting his eyes.

“But you’re my friends,” he whines. “And the two of you work too much! It wouldn’t kill you to be somewhere that’s not the office or home every once in a while!”

“He’s got a point, honey,” Dokyeom interjects, looking distractedly behind you. “Wonwoo has you working crazy hours day in and day out. You need a break to decompress.”

“He’s right.”

The deep voice rumbling behind you makes you lift your head as your gaze falls on a smiling Wonwoo, the man placing your drink in front of you before sliding next to you in the booth. Your breath catches in your throat the moment his leg pressed against yours, the heat emanating off of him like he’s your own personal furnace. His sharp gaze is locked on yours as he reaches to lazily drape his arm around you, and you don’t have to look at Soonyoung to know that he’s sitting there smirking as he and Wonwoo lock eyes.

“Nice of you to join us, Wonu,” Soonyoung piped up. “I almost would’ve thought (Y/N) came here alone.”

“Now what kind of man would I be if I let my beautiful assistant come here by herself?”

A chorus of snorts falls upon the group, identical knowing looks on each one of their faces as they gazed upon you and Wonwoo. Heat floods your cheeks as you look down at the table bashfully, biting back a smile as Wonwoo pulls you into him.

Soonyoung can’t help but to smirk as he watches the two of you, a knowing glance being thrown towards your boss as he chuckles.

“I’ve never seen her so shy before,” he coos, making you groan in embarrassment. Wonwoo grins.

“Come to the office and you’ll see more of it,” he teases, and you playfully tap his shoulder in response.

“Stop,” you whined, pouting. “It’s not my fault you’re a shameless flirt.”

Wonwoo’s grin doesn’t falter, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

“Only with you, sweetheart.”

A unanimous coo falls from the group as they beamed at the two of you, taking in the flirty banter between you and your boss before deciding to give the two of you some time to yourselves. Soonyoung and Dokyeom are making a beeline for the dance floor while Joshua and Seungkwan head towards the bar, and you can already feel the nervous fluttering of those damned butterflies as Wonwoo’s soft gaze peers into yours.

A feline smirk is on his lips, his gaze resting underneath the thick rims of his glasses, and he’s leaning down towards your ear, lips brushing the outer shell and sending a wave of heat through your body.

“Would you like to dance with me?”

His voice is quiet, the low tone reverberating against your body, and you can’t help but to shiver as his breath fanned against your skin. You take a sip of your drink before turning your head to look at him, eyes shining playfully.

“You sure you don’t want to dance with anyone else?” You asked, half teasing half serious. “I’m sure there’s plenty of women who would gladly take you up on it.”

Wonwoo’s face hardens at your words, jaw clenching as he gives you a stern look.

“I don’t want anyone but you.”

Your breath catches in your throat at that, lips parting slightly in shock, and you peered into the earnestness of Wonwoo’s eyes as he reaches to grab your hand. The butterflies multiply tenfold as he lifts it to his lips, gently pressing a kiss to your knuckles before he’s wordlessly sliding out of the booth and pulling you up to him.

A protective arm wraps around your waist as your chest presses against his, his gaze never leaving yours as he rests his palm against your cheek.

“Dance with me.”

It’s a soft murmur rumbling from him and the intensity of his gaze can only make you nod in silence before allowing yourself to be willingly pulled to the dance floor.

Strong arms enveloped around your waist as you’re tugged into his broad chest, your arms looping around his neck, and the sultry song playing in the background does absolutely nothing for your nerves as your bodies move to the beat of the song. Wonwoo’s heated gaze is locked on yours, his sharp eyes framed underneath his glasses, and the intensity of him renders your mind thoughtless as a wave of heat flows straight to the pulsing core of your thighs as his body rolls into yours.

A soft mewl falls from you as you mirror his movements, your hands fisting in his hair as your hips swayed against his. Wonwoo grits his teeth as he leans down closer to you, his nose grazing yours as his hands clutched at the fabric of your shirt.

The heat between the two of you grows several degrees hotter as Wonwoo turns you in his arms, your back now flush against his chest, and his head dips to rest in the crook of your neck as your ass rolls into his groin. There’s a broken moan falling from him and he’s gripping onto you for dear life as he grinds his body into yours. Your hands are still fisted through his hair as his teeth graze against your skin, a whine falling from you as you tilt your neck to give him more access.

“Wonwoo…”

The sound of his name falling from you sends your boss into a frenzy, his hands clutching your body to him as he rolls his clothed cock against your ass. His teeth bite down on the juncture between your neck and shoulder as he sucks the skin into his mouth, marking you with a soothing flick of his tongue.

“Be mine,” he murmurs against your skin, drawing you out of your lust-filled haze. A frown paints itself across your lips as you try to turn in his arms, only to have Wonwoo tighten his arms and lock you in place.

“I can’t…” you whisper, and Wonwoo shakes his head as he nips against your collarbone.

“Don’t think about tomorrow, sweetheart,” he responds. “Think about now. Think about how we’re two people who very clearly care about each other.”

Your brain is screaming at you to pull away, to not risk anything more than what has already happened, but when his hot breath is fanning across your skin and his hardening cock is pressing up against your ass it’s hard to pull away. So, instead, you’re gaining the strength to turn in his arms and pull his head back down to your neck, fishing your hands through his hair as you arch into his touch. Wonwoo growls against your skin as needy hands drop to the curve of your ass, squeezing the flesh as your bodies grind to the beat of the music.

Everything around you all but disappears as the two of you melt into one another, not a care in the world as Wonwoo mouths hotly at your neck, tongue and teeth marking any visible inch of skin that he can latch onto.

‘Just for tonight,’ you thought to yourself. ‘I can indulge myself just for a night.’

If only it was ever that easy.

#seventeen smut #wonwoo smut #seventeen scenarios #wonwoo scenarios #wonwoo x reader #jeon wonwoo smut

1K notes · View notes

holylulusworld · 2 months

Text

TOL - I’m your daddy now (1) - Lloyd Hansen

Summary: You reached the end of the rope.

Pairing: Lloyd Hansen x Singlemom!Reader

Warnings: plus-sized reader, needy Lloyd, Lloyd being Lloyd, Lloyd is an ass and boob enthusiast, mentions of sex for money, money trouble, mentions of cheating (her ex), groping, slight mommy kink (kinda, it's Lloyd)

A/N: This is part of my Traders of love (lust) masterlist series. It's the prequel to TOL - Like a virgin (Bucky Barnes) and tells the story about Lloyd and his assistant sunshine.

You reached the end of the rope.

With your three-year-old little boy depending on you, it’s not easy to face reality. In two weeks, you will have to leave your home. The bank will take the house, and even the wreck of a car you call your own.

Your deadbeat of a husband left you with nothing but debs and resentment for men. He’s out and about with a younger, prettier, and slimmer girl. – His words, not yours.

While you tried to save your marriage, he fucked some woman he met at a bar behind your back. You knew he was a sleazy and worthless bastard, but never expected him to turn his back on his son too.

It’s not that you didn’t try anything to make enough money to pay for the mortgage and feed your son. One too many nights you went to bed hungry, only lukewarm water in your belly to at least save enough money to buy food for your baby boy.

“Mommy,” your little boy yawns as he looks up at you. He holds out his chubby hands, whining because you don’t pick him up. You just look at him for a moment, feeling your heart chatter all over again.

“How could I ever fall for your father,” you sniffle when you pick your son up. You peck his cheek and sigh. “At least he gave me you. The only good thing coming out of this relationship.”

You nuzzle his cheek and try to ignore the ache in your chest, and your growling stomach. At least you got paid yesterday. It’s not enough to keep the house for another month, but you can get food on the table.

Whatever happens tomorrow, you don’t know. The website you found promised help in hopeless situations. You never know with the internet, but it’s your last resort.

If they don’t keep their promises, you’ll end up on the street with your son only because your husband ran off with all of your savings. He even stole the money your grandmother left you for desperate times.

“Hi, uh-I’m Y/N Y/L/N. I have an appointment,” you wring your hands while looking around the lobby of the building inheriting the company promising to save your home. The woman at the reception doesn’t even look your way. She huffs and lifts her perfectly manicured index finger to stop you from talking.

“I don’t think you are what we are looking for,” she snaps at you, and your heart sinks. You look down at your body, sighing deeply. The business outfit you are wearing is a tight fit. You gained weight during pregnancy you never got the chance to lose. “You should go home and bake cookies for your kid.”

She points her finger at the stain on your blouse, simply to embarrass you even more. Some women are like that. They try to feel better, or above you by making you feel small.

“Kiki, that is enough,” you flinch when a hand brushes over your ass. The man pats your cheeks, humming happily. “What do we have here?” He purrs and gropes one cheek. “A perfect plump ass.”

“Mr. Hansen, Sir,” the woman splutters. She looks like she saw a ghost, or worse, a monster wanting to eat her alive. “I told her that she doesn’t belong here.”

“Kiki, Kiki,” Hansen tuts while patting your ass. “I decide who belongs here.”

You don’t know what to do. Usually, you’d slap any guy trying to feel you up across the face or kick their balls. But this man could be your way out of your financial crisis.

“Yes, of course, Mr. Hansen but just look at her,” she squeaks, and points at you. “I don’t think any of our clients want something like this to fulfill their…”

“ENOUGH!” Hansen slams his fist onto the receptionist's desk, making Kiki flinch. “We never talk about our clients nor our employees in front of people outside of our organization. You are dismissed.”

“What?” She stares at Hansen in disbelief. “For today or…”

“Forever,” he huffs and turns around. The man brushes his index finger and thumb over his mustache and grins like he saw something he’d love to devour. You are afraid it’s you.

“I have an appointment,” you clear your throat and try to ignore your heart hammers in your chest. This man looks more like a wolf, with sharp teeth and glowing eyes, than a man.

“I know, sunshine,” he smirks and holds out his hand. “Please excuse my annoying assistant. She’s no longer working for me.”

You’d love to roll your eyes at the man in front of you. He’s one of the guys who believe you must immediately fall for his charm and non-existent manners.

“If you’d like to follow me inside my office, sugar plum,” he wraps his arm around your shoulders, and snickers, "we can talk about your problems and how to solve them.”

“So…” He plops down on a leather couch. He pats the seat next to him, but you prefer standing in the room. “What brings you here, sunshine. How can Lloyd help you?”

“I found your website while searching for a way to keep my house,” you lick your lips. You hate that you must talk about your situation with this man.

“Humor me,” he smirks and pats the seat again. “If you want me to help you, I want to know it all. From the beginning.”

He tilts his head and looks you up and down. “What do you want to know?” You huff and cross your arms over your chest. “I came here, even though your offer sounded fishy. I reached the end of the rope.” You throw your hands up, and sniffle.

“Now, now. No tears in Lloyd Hansen’s office,” he gets up to march toward you. Lloyd cups your face and tilts your head. “I need to know every detail, sunshine. If you are lying, I’ll send you home with a slap to your plump ass.”

“Fine,” you snap at him and push against his chest. “Quit pro quo, Mr. Hansen. After I told you everything about my situation, I want the truth about your offer.”

“Be my guest,” he smirks darkly. “I hope you don’t pee your pants getting to know the truth.”

“I came this far,” you sniff, “you don’t scare me, Mr. Hansen. You’re not the first man wanting me to fail.”

“A cocky one, I see,” Lloyd says as he sits back down on the sofa. “Begin, then.”

“What do you want to know? That my deadbeat of a husband left me for some bitch he met at a bar?” You drop your bag onto his desk and take your jacket off. “Or that I must raise my three-year-old son without him because his dick was more important?”

You stride toward Lloyd and step between his legs. He looks up at you, amused as you cup your tits. “I will lose my house and my car. I don’t make enough money to keep the house. He stole the money I spared to give her a nice life.”

“I see,” he licks his lips. “I think you already got what I have to offer.” Lloyd tilts his head and smirks as you start to unbutton your blouse.

“You want me to fuck you, right? That’s all this is about,” you wrinkle your nose. “And I’ll get the money I need to keep my house.”

He grins now. “Sunshine, you didn’t get that this is about business. I’ll put you on my website and my clients can decide if they want to fuck you or not.”

“Oh…” You sigh deeply. “I guess this means there is no hope.” You turn around to grab your bag. “Sorry for wasting your time.”

“Sunshine, wait,” he’s on his feet before you can grab your jacket. “I didn’t say you can just leave. Don’t you want to end up getting fucked good by my clients?”

“Do you honestly believe I was waiting to get fucked by random douches,” you turn back around and slap Lloyd with your bag. “I came here to find help, not dick.”

His grin widens as you slap his chest, face, and shoulder with your bag. “Careful, sunshine. If you don’t watch out, you’ll end up making me rock hard.”

“You’re disgusting,” you wrinkle your nose and cock a brow.

“Oh, mommy can get mad,” he purrs and roams your body with his eyes. “I bet you are a strict mommy, huh? Do you scold your baby boy?”

“No!” You snap at Lloyd. “Keep my son out of this!” You slap him with your bag again. “Never mention my kid again, you asshole!”

“I knew you were special, sunshine,” he chuckles and grabs your wrist to keep you from slapping him again. “A wildcat ready to scratch and bite me.”

“I’m a tiger mommy if you want to know,” you growl and snap your teeth at Lloyd when he tries to press his lips to yours. “I’ll do anything to protect my son.”

“Sunshine, you’ve got yourself a deal,” Lloyd drops his hands from your arms to grab your face again. This time he kisses you roughly. You bite his lower lip, but he doesn’t seem to mind. He greedily shoves his tongue inside your mouth, devouring your mouth. “I think you’ll make a grand-prime assistant slash sexy bunny for me…”

Part 2

#lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x reader #lloyd hansen x you #traders of love #lloyd hansen x plussized!reader #plussized reader #lloyd hansen x y/n #I’m your daddy now (1)

215 notes · View notes

rebelspykatie · 8 months

Text

Part 1 of 2 🧦🧵

Part 2 | AO3

It’s the socks that break his resolve. Of course it’s the socks.

The first time he saw them, he wasn’t even sure what he was feeling. Steve Harrington waltzing into gym class in those knee high white socks wasn’t what Eddie expected to solidify his sexuality during the crisis phase of sophomore year, but he knew what he felt in that moment would change him forever. The way he couldn’t take his eyes off them. How he finally understood the whispers he heard from girls in the hallways. That fluttering in his stomach when Steve ran past his spot on the bleachers.

There was no going back after that. Sophomore year was just the awakening. Over the years it turned into an obsession, the way he made sure he was in the building whenever Steve might be wearing them at gym class or during a game. He was disappointed when he showed up and Steve was sporting ankle socks, grumbling about it the whole way home, but staying to watch either way.

It didn’t escape his notice that Steve looked hot in anything. Those small green shorts left little to the imagination. But there was something about the socks that did it for him. The way they stood out, perfect white against his tan skin. How they hugged his calves and the material strained to fit over muscles. The colored rings around the top bleed dull from the stretch of the fabric. The direct connection they had to his burgeoning sexuality emerging during that fateful gym class.

Maybe it was the peak of leg hair inching out over the tops. A rare sight in the fall when he’s shaved hairless for swim season. Eddie gets a different thrill during that time of the year, hiding under the bleachers to watch Steve in his tiny speedo. But no, basketball season was more his speed. Pretending he’s there to sell while camping out to catch a glimpse of Steve in small shorts and knee highs.

By senior year, he knows Steve hangs out at the Forest Hills park with some of the other guys from the basketball team. And this time he wasn’t even seeking him out, he just happened to be passing by after school on his way home and honed in on Steve’s car in the parking lot. If he camps out in that park to sell that summer, hoping to catch a glimpse of Steve, it’s no one’s business but his own.

When Starcourt happens, it makes Eddie’s life easier. He doesn’t have to sneak around in a mall, he can blend in and fade into the crowd without anyone knowing his true reason for showing up in that overcrowded nightmare fuel of a place. He can sip on his orange Julius and watch as Steve flirts with everyone that comes into Scoops. He waits patiently for Steve to take his turn cleaning, bent over the tables with his back to the entrance, calves pulled taunt as he bends to pick up garbage from around booths. The socks aren’t quite as high as the Hawkins gym issued ones, but they’re still putting on a good show.

He’s pretty sure Steve never caught wind of his presence, how he’s creeped on him for years harboring an idiotic crush. Borderline stalking. There’s no recognition on his face when Eddie holds a bottle to his throat while he’s running for his life. After surviving, they become friends and somehow that’s worse than being a nobody to Steve.

Suddenly, he’s up close and personal with everything he’s been watching from afar. He doesn’t get to see his beloved socks for a long time, but it doesn’t mean that Steve isn’t torturing him. There are pool parties where he suffers through another round of tight shorts, this time dripping wet and clinging to areas Eddie desperately wants to see. There are movie nights in the dead of summer, Steve shirtless and hairier than ever, lounging across the couch and inches away from Eddie’s twitchy hands. There are sleepovers where Eddie gets to witness a sleep ruffled Steve blearily searching for coffee with his hair standing at a truly incredible height off his head.

All of it was just a dumb crush, something he tried to hide away. There’s no way Steve feels the same. He resigns himself to exposure therapy, hoping with enough time it’ll go away. As if he hasn’t spent five years watching from afar as Steve grows into a man and becomes the kind of person Eddie wants to bring home at night.

So of course, because the universe is a cruel bitch that never lets Eddie off easy, it’s the socks that break his resolve. They’re going to the county fair, all the teens, and Steve shows up in tiny little blue shorts with dumb knee high socks. Eddie’s brain is completely fried by the time he’s even out of his van. They’re the same stark white he remembers, with three blue rings around the top, stretched to their limits, just like Eddie’s restraint. He’s even wearing a gray Hawkins high basketball shirt, like he’s aware that he’s stepping right into Eddie’s dirty little fantasy.

It’s slow torture, following him around the fair, acting like he’s not effected every time he catches a glimpse of Steve. Redirecting his line of sight every time Steve turns around and avoiding Robin’s knowing gaze. The inside of his cheek is sore from biting it to stop himself from opening his big, dumb mouth.

He’s so, so well behaved until they get home. Everyone else heading out and leaving him and Steve alone. All it takes is Steve reaching for a glass in the kitchen, on tiptoes, his own private show, socks moving with the flex of his calves, for his restraint to snap. He lets out a moan before he even knows it’s happening, freezing in the dead silence, his own stupidity echoing in his head. When Steve turns around and looks at him with that adorable surprised puppy look, he’s a goner, crossing the room and spinning Steve around to trap him against the counter, glass clutched in his hand.

“You and these damn socks, Harrington.”

Steve sets the glass down, but doesn’t push Eddie away. In fact, he pulls Eddie closer, wrapping a hand around his neck, “I thought you’d never get the hint.” And kisses him.

Part 2 | AO3

#steve harrington #stranger things #eddie munson #steddie #katie writes

646 notes · View notes

tossawary · 8 months

Text

I really can't remember everything from the 1986 movie or G1 S3, but... I don't really remember Rodimus talking much about his life prior to becoming the Prime. If we're taking lore SOLELY from the show and movie, given how often G1 just had the Autobots or Decepticons just Build New Guys, I don't think it's too unreasonable for some casual (or forgetful, idk) fan to assume that Hot Rod was built on Earth in the time skip period between S2 and the movie. You could totally do an AU interpretation where Rodimus and Daniel are the same age or close to it.

Some Autobot back on Cybertron: "When was this new Prime constructed? I don't recall meeting him before."

Rodimus: "I'm ten."

Some Autobot: "Ten what? Ten million? You wear your years extremely well, then. You can't possibly be only ten thousand, that's much too young for a Prime-"

Rodimus: "Just ten years old, buddy."

Some Autobot: "..."

Rodimus: "And trust me, every single one of them has sucked ass enough for a million. Are we doing these super important galactic politics today or what?"

Some Autobot: "I have energon stones in my filtration tanks that are older than you."

Rodimus: "Yeah, and I have to go beat the shit out of some Quintessons with my bare hands later, AND I still need to squeeze my daily crisis of depression, guilt, and self-loathing in somewhere because Ultra Magnus says I'm not allowed to put it on the official schedule anymore. Are we having this meeting or not? I'm a busy guy."

#tossawary transformers #tf g1 #rodimus prime #daniel witwicky #ultra magnus #fic ideas #child emperor rodimus au

410 notes · View notes

jasonswh0rre · 1 month

Text

The Psychological Analysis of Jason Todd

I am a psych major, and my professor is allowing us to make an analysis of any character of our choice, so I figured who better to write then Jason Todd. This was very fun to write and I very much enjoyed rewatching Batman: Arkham Knight. Please enjoy. ☁️ Warning(s): Trigger Warning for Trauma, Mental Health Content, Violence, Graphic Imagery, Spoiler(s)☁️ Word Count: 2.6k ☁️: Authors Note: I am working on fanfics, more headcanons for Arkham Jason, unfortunately I am busy with classes, assignments and deadlines. I will try to be punctual but it may take time. Thank you for your understanding.

Introduction

Jason Todd is the secondary villain in Batman: Arkham Knight, which has the same moniker. He is the second Robin and Bruce Wayne's adoptive son.

Jason Peter Todd was born in the slums of Gotham City to two drug-addicted parents, who would eventually try to settle a debt they had by giving Jason away when he was a baby. Jason received no parental figure to help guide him, leading him to petty crimes such as theft to nourish his survival. Jason is a character who takes what he needs if it means prolonging his survival; his lack of a parental figure leads him to an identity crisis between longing for a parental figure and convincing himself he is better off without one. When the simple truth is that every human needs a mother and a father, we respond positively to a nurturing environment, and through early adolescence, our brains crave the structure needed to build us into well-rounded adults.

At fifteen, Jason inadvertently met Batman while committing robbery when Batman was fighting Gotham's notorious supervillain, The Joker. Believing Batman is in trouble, Jason jumps between pushing the hero from harm's way. Despite life's misfortunes, Jason possesses a remarkable code of morality enough to want to save someone. Jason, attempting to rid Joker of his breath, aims a pistol at the clown and, before firing, is knocked out of his hands by Batman's batarang. Unfortunately for him, Joker would leave Jason with a cryptic message, one for the young man to head.

Jason would later be apprehended and taken into custody in the back of a police car by Batman after Batman retrieved his gun and stolen money. However, rather than being charged, Jason receives a blessing through a Wayne Industries project that helped troubled teens; through the program, Jason was able to turn his life around. All attract the man who helped Jason find a new purpose: Bruce Wayne. Months after being released, Batman appeared in Jason's dorm, again offering Jason another opportunity.

2nd Robin and Kidnapping

Taking Jason in as his ward as well as dubbing him Robin after Dick Grayson, Jason sought justice and enjoyed being a hero. Like the previous Robin, he showed a keen aptitude for it; unlike his predecessor, he possessed a fiery temper and willingness for more lethal force. While Jason's temper is directed towards the criminals that harm the innocents, Batman views this as inexcusable, fearing the day that Jason will kill instead of reprimanding.

In the most twisted sense of irony, Jason's morality inevitably becomes his downfall. The Joker has blown up a school with kindergarteners; this leads to Jason's resolve that Joker needs to die. Knowing that Bruce would try to stop him, Jason abandons his comms and tracker so he can kill Joker. However, it is a trap, and Joker ambushes Jason. Jason was kept in a wheelchair, bonded by barbed wire that kept Jason leaning hunched over in excruciating pain. Throughout his pain, Jason's mind remained still; he was confident that Batman would find him; his sheer will at the beginning of his torture is, with all honesty, remarkable as Joker has been known for his mental abuse and mind games he plays with his victims including his sidekick, Harley Quinn.

In the six months of his torture, Jason's unwavering mental resolve was slowly crippling as Joker had wanted; throughout the game, Jason's voice mixed with crippling fear and small doubts about Batman coming. The Joker feeds into his doubts by showing him a photo of Batman with his replacement, Tim Drake. This leaves Jason troubled as he slowly loses hope for Batman.

The last act of Jason's torture involved a video sent to Batman via The Joker of Jason, who has undergone all his brainwashing; in the video, Jason is sitting down in a chair; he is not chained, barbed, handcuffed, or kept sitting still in any way by all means Jason could easily walk away. This is a significant and crucial part of Jason's torture as it symbolizes just how much mental anguish and emotional exhaustion Jason went through to the point that he no longer had a yearning for freedom—making him downright timid and submissive towards Joker enough to out Batman's identity when asked by the latter. This results in Joker shooting Jason point-blank in the chest, as Joker "never could stand a tattletale." However, this was only a ploy to make Batman believe Jason is genuinely dead.

On the contrary, Jason was kept alive for another year, endeavoring more torture, mistreatment, and malnourishment. Harley Quinn did the final touches of Jason's emotional and mental brainwashing; a former psychiatrist who manipulated Jason into believing that Batman was the cause of his anguish and his pain was his doing; she did this long enough, even punishing Jason by waterboarding him and electrocuting him when he refused to say Batman, indicating he still had some level of awareness of who was torturing him.

However, once Harley could get Jason to say Batman's name, Jason was drugged and beaten by two prisoners dressed like Batman; he was given a gun by The Joker and was ordered to kill them. Jason's resolve and humanity were a cord, still entrenched in him before Harley convinced him further, snapping his humanity and getting him to shoot the two dressed-up prisoners dead.

During the riots of Arkham Asylum, The Joker paid mercenary Deathstroke to keep Jason there and shoot him if he escaped. However, Jason convinces Deathstroke that Joker will not keep his promise and that if he helps, Jason will triple whatever Joker plans to pay. Accepting the offer, Deathstroke assists Jason in escaping, stealing a helicopter, and flying to Wayne Industries. Jason steals millions of dollars from his former guardian. Ironically, crossing paths with Tim Drake, who assumes Todd to be Deathstroke's sidekick, when Jason's ankle is caught between Tim's grappling hook, Jason cuts the cord, allowing Tim to fall when suggested by Deathstroke that killing Robin would bode well for them with the Dark Knight. Jason Coldy says that if he dies in a fall like that, Batman needs to pick his sidekicks better.

Jason's psyche has been torn and scattered, leaving him a hollowed carving with a mocking J branding etched onto his face, from birth his eyes were already met with darkness, born to parents who never showed him recognition, let alone love, and through the Wayne Industries Project and his adoption by Bruce his eyes were wide, and remarkably hopeful, to be free of the weight of Gotham's misfortunes finally; those eyes that looked with gleam forced shut until he saw nothing but blackness.

Arkham Knight's Birth

Jason adopts a new persona built on the pain and suffering in the wake of his escape from Joker. He feels betrayed by the one person he only had in the world and wants vengeance. Jason works alongside Scarecrow, one of Batman's enemies. The two begin a plan on Halloween to take Gotham and Batman's legacy along with it. Jason gathers all Batman's enemies to join, assembling a militia with Deathstroke. While working with each other, Scarecrow "tests" his fear toxin on the young man, sending him on a psychological spiral. One of his more apparent fears is the Joker, who can be found near, in the background, or standing right in front of him laughing and mocking him, but beyond the clown prince of crime's appearance, Jason also sees his replacement, Tim Drake, and "fights" him.

The fight has Jason severely outnumbered in the beginning, with Tim succeeding, even using his staff to choke Jason, forcing him to the ground as the Jokers around him laugh. Further into the fear toxin, Jason appears in front of Wayne Manor, where he throws down his helmet and says the following: "Someplace warm, someplace safe, someplace where I'm needed, someplace where I'm loved," Joker once again appears in front of him laughing and mocking him on whether he even deserves it, this is Jason's internal struggle in a manifested form of the person who caused him harm, of the person who convinced him from the start that he was alone and would not be saved. Jason is mischaracterized as always being angry or standoffish, but anger has more truth than any lie detector can scoop. Jason feels this anger is not just because of some personality trait; anger is his cry out, and he's shouting to be seen and loved. This is most likely due to being tortured at 15 or so, which, despite the fact that at the time of Arkham Knight, he was in his early 20s, his mental age was regressed to the age when he was captured. This makes Jason appear at first glance as someone emotional, cocky, and arrogant. He values safety and love; he doesn't want to be on his guard 24/7, but he's grown up in an environment where letting your guard down gets you killed. He follows Joker into Wayne Manor, where he sees Bruce; suddenly, several versions of Batman appear in the room. They beat him and told him they never wanted a partner or even a son. This is a conflict that has always waged war in Jason's mind. Jason's biological father attempted to give him up and then belittled him when he explained that Jason's worth was so low that he couldn't even leave him; he has low self-esteem that he internalizes into rage in the way that he fights to prove his strength.

This is why Jason has a strong attachment to Bruce/Batman it maybe due to an underlying desire to seek his approval especially by the time when he adopts him. Bruce gives him everything he could ask for and anything he could think of, and Batman gives him a purpose. Ironically, this is still the case despite Bruce himself having an avoidant attachment style.

Conclusion and Diagnosis

Jason Todd's character in "Batman: Arkham Knight" exhibits a complex interplay of psychological factors that align with the diagnostic criteria for Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD). One prominent feature of BPD is emotional dysregulation, characterized by intense and rapidly shifting emotions. Jason displays various emotions throughout the game, from anger and hostility to vulnerability and despair. His reactions often appear exaggerated or disproportionate to the situation, indicating difficulty regulating his emotional responses.

Furthermore, Jason's sense of identity is notably unstable, which is another hallmark feature of BPD. Having grown up in a dysfunctional environment with absent parents, Jason lacks a stable sense of self and struggles to define his identity. This is evident in his adoption of various personas, including Robin, the Arkham Knight, and, later, the Red Hood. His shifting identities reflect a profound inner conflict and a desperate search for validation and purpose. Jason's interpersonal relationships also reflect the interpersonal instability characteristic of BPD. He forms intense and unstable attachments to figures such as Batman, vacillating between admiration and resentment. His interactions with other characters are marked by rapid shifts in perception, alternating between idealization and devaluation. For example, while Jason initially idolizes Batman as a mentor and father figure, his feelings of betrayal and abandonment lead to resentment and hostility towards him.

Moreover, Jason exhibits self-destructive behaviors as a coping mechanism for his emotional pain, another hallmark of BPD. He engages in reckless actions, disregarding his safety to seek vengeance against those he perceives as enemies. His confrontations with adversaries are often fueled by a desire for self-assertion and control, masking more profound feelings of emptiness and despair.

Underlying Jason's behaviors is a pervasive fear of abandonment, stemming from his traumatic upbringing and experiences of betrayal. This fear drives his desperate attempts to maintain connections with others, even as he pushes them away with his volatile and unpredictable behavior. Jason's fear of abandonment manifests in his interactions with Batman and the Bat family, where he oscillates between seeking their approval and rejecting their authority.

Jason Todd's character in "Batman: Arkham Knight" embodies many of the core features of Borderline Personality Disorder, including emotional dysregulation, identity disturbance, interpersonal instability, self-destructive behaviors, and a fear of abandonment. By analyzing his actions, relationships, and psychological struggles within the context of the game's narrative, it becomes apparent that Jason's character aligns closely with the diagnostic criteria for BPD, providing a compelling framework for understanding his complex and multifaceted personality.

Besides indicating various symptoms of BPD, I would also consider diagnosing Jason with Complex Post post-traumatic stress Disorder (C-PTSD). Given Jason's background of severe trauma, including childhood abuse, neglect, and prolonged torture at the hands of the Joker, it's worth considering Complex PTSD. C-PTSD typically develops in response to chronic trauma and is characterized by symptoms such as emotional dysregulation, disturbed self-concept, difficulties in relationships, and a persistent sense of threat. I would include diagnosing Jason with Major Depressive Disorder (MDD): Jason's experiences of profound loss, trauma, and betrayal may contribute to symptoms of depression, such as feelings of hopelessness, worthlessness, and a loss of interest in activities. His struggles with emotional regulation and chronic feelings of emptiness could also align with depressive symptoms. Following my diagnosis, I am also inclined to believe he suffers from attachment disorders; given Jason's tumultuous upbringing and experiences and a multitude of parental figures involving neglect and abandonment, it's possible that he may have developed attachment-related difficulties. This could manifest in insecure attachment styles, fear of abandonment, and challenges in forming and maintaining healthy relationships.

Furthermore, I would consider Antisocial Personality Disorder (ASPD): While Jason displays empathy and compassion at times, his willingness to engage in morally questionable or violent behavior, as well as his disregard for societal norms and rules, may align with some features of ASPD. However, his capacity for genuine care and loyalty makes this disorder out of sorts with his character.

Lastly, Post-Traumatic Embitterment Disorder (PTED): PTED is a proposed diagnostic category characterized by intense feelings of injustice, betrayal, and embitterment following a traumatic event or series of events. Jason's experiences of betrayal and abandonment, particularly by Batman and the Joker, may resonate with the symptoms of PTED.

In conclusion, the character of Jason Todd in "Batman: Arkham Knight" presents a compelling portrayal of psychological complexity shaped by a tumultuous history of trauma, betrayal, and profound loss. Through a comprehensive analysis of his experiences and behaviors throughout the game, it becomes evident that Jason embodies many psychological struggles, warranting consideration for various diagnostic possibilities. Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD) emerges as a primary candidate, given Jason's emotional volatility, identity disturbances, and interpersonal difficulties. His tumultuous relationships, intense fear of abandonment, and self-destructive tendencies align closely with the diagnostic criteria for BPD. Furthermore, Complex Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (C-PTSD) offers another lens through which to understand Jason's psychological profile, considering his history of chronic trauma and its pervasive impact on his functioning.

Additionally, Major Depressive Disorder (MDD) may contribute to Jason's experiences of profound despair, hopelessness, and emotional emptiness. His struggles with attachment-related difficulties suggest the possibility of underlying attachment disorders stemming from his early experiences of neglect and abandonment.

While Antisocial Personality Disorder (ASPD) and Post-Traumatic Embitterment Disorder (PTED) offer alternative perspectives, they may not fully capture the complexity of Jason's character, given his capacity for empathy and genuine care, despite his propensity for morally questionable behavior.

In essence, Jason Todd's character in "Batman: Arkham Knight" is a poignant exploration of the human psyche's intricacies, illustrating the profound impact of trauma on identity, relationships, and emotional well-being. By delving into his psychological struggles within the context of the game's narrative, we gain valuable insights into the complexities of mental health and the enduring resilience of the human spirit.

#arkham knight #jason todd #red hood #headcanon #positive thoughts #psychology #psych student #arkham batman #psychological analysis #psyche student analyzes #jasonswh0rre

138 notes · View notes

olderthannetfic · 6 months

Note

You've encountered site changes over time as a fan elder, what do you make of Tumblr potentially being put out to pasture? Tumblr was my coming of age fan site, and im looking for advice to transition to the next thing with grace and less bitterness than I feel now.

Ahaha. God, you should have heard the howling about LJ. "Fandom is over!" "Never again shall we dwell in fandom's True Home!" etc.

Hell, this endless "only LJ was good" crap turns up in replies here on posts where I as OP have very clearly laid out why that's rose colored glasses nonsense and you can so make friends on tumblr, have a conversation on tumblr, etc.

I had my crabby phase about this during the transition from Yahoo Groups to LJ. A lot of the real olds had it over paper zines and the transition to the internet.

I don't know if reading these hilariously samey old posts would help. It does give perspective, I think.

As for what you should do, do what I did with Tumblr:

Look around to identify the Next Thing fandom is going to camp out on.

It may take a few guesses and some time to figure this out. You will likely not be an early adopter. Fandom was well established here by the time I joined at the end of 2010. Of course, by now, all those 2009 and before accounts are long gone, but at the time, I was a n00b joining other people's space despite having been in fandom for ages.

Don't expect to enjoy it

I didn't join tumblr because I liked it. In fact, I despised it. I kept right on despising it until a brief stint in Sherlock fandom, a fandom that was so active here at the time that I was able to finally see the good aspects of the site's structure and features.

This is the mistake a lot of people make. They give things a cursory try, don't enjoy them, and go "not for me", forgetting that the last site also had a steep learning curve that was either difficult or that they didn't notice because they were in a different phase of their life.

Bitterness and grief are, frankly, an inherent part of the process. You can try not to be a debbie downer in your public comments, but you can't just not feel those things during the awkward part of the transition. Sometimes, acting positive and cutting off excessively negative thoughts can make you feel less negative overall, but it doesn't happen immediately.

Accept that feeling cranky and old is both a you problem and a state of mind, not a property of the new site

Relatedly, the way we remember fandom platform X feeling usually has more to do with us being in college with fandom friends down the hall or having discovered Our People for the first time or some other time when we had a lot of energy and positive emotions. Often, we were in the throes of a first or new fandom love too, probably for some megafandom that other people also cared about at the same time.

When fandom is leaving some site, there's a grieving process anyway, but we're also often in a worse part of our lives for starting new things. We're busy. We're tired. We're between fandoms. We feel like we already paid our dues to build up our community. Why should we have to start again?

But let me tell you, you always need to start again eventually. I go to a weekly vidders' zoom chat, and a lot of the people in there are old as balls, including Kandy, the person who invented vidding back in the 70s. She's a lot of decades and a few cancers in, and she had to relearn how to vid on a computer after transitioning from slideshows to VCR vidding back in the day. If bad health, platform changes, and dead friends were going to stop her, she'd be long gone.

It's like sharks: you stop swimming, you die.

This isn't just about fandom, obviously. It's about avoiding a midlife crisis and, later, about avoiding feeling emotionally geriatric even when your body is falling apart.

Change gets us all, but being mentally old is a choice. The real reason I gave tumblr such a try was that I had been so resistant to getting on LJ. I was 20. Even a year later, it was fucking embarrassing to have been a crotchety old hag as a college student. I promised myself I'd soldier through the next change instead of dragging my feet about it. And it totally worked in the end! But boy did it not make the transition any less unpleasant emotionally!

Find your joy

As is obvious from the above, the vast majority of the problem is just emotions. Fandom has been on a million broken sites with shitty features. We go where the people are, regardless of whether it has the technological aspects we liked at the last place. The actual shape of that platform is largely irrelevant.

What does matter is whether we as an individual fan are still excited and happy about something. I was between fandoms recently and went looking around for BL series I hadn't watched yet. People kept suggesting things set in the present day with too-cheesy production values and too many banal schoolboys in modern day settings without even anything spicy going on. I realized that the BL/danmei scene wasn't really cutting it for me and I should go for production values and genre and non-canon ships. You probably scrolled annoyedly past the picspams that resulted.

(Of course, hilariously, someone has now shown me the trailer of Red Peafowl, so someone may be making BL that feels like it's for me after all. Look at all that badwrong and very dark color grading.)

When you're in a good place emotionally, it's a hell of a lot easier to weather any change, and when you have a new fandom, it's a lot easier to connect with other fans.

A lot of people wait around for lightning to strike twice. They found their first fandom by accident, and they expect it to happen seamlessly again. For me, it's far more productive to brute force it: collect up a big list of what's popular or what's new and go through it till you find things you might like, then try them all.

And part of this, obviously, is not waiting for other fans to make the party happen. The more you need to join something other people are already doing, the less choice you'll have in fandoms or in platforms. If you aren't picky and just go where the tropey longfic is, that can work, but even then, favorite authors disappear or go to fandoms you hate and former megafandoms dry up. If you're the one bringing the party, it's a lot easier to find a new fandom or platform or community to have fun in.

262 notes · View notes

wingedcat13 · 10 months

Text

Synovus: Siren Call (2)

[Synoverse? In the year of our lord 2023? It's more likely than you think! This one is in third person, set after Villains Never Retire. No idea what I’m talking about? Check out the first of the Synovus works here! I've still yet to do it as of posting, but both episodes of Siren Call will be on Ao3 here. Happy reading!]

A week after first arriving at her parents’ house, Minerva made the journey back to her own.

It wasn’t terribly far - a half-hour drive with no traffic, maybe - from where her parents now lived, still placed near to the coast. It wasn’t actually a ‘house’ either, more of a condo built in a line to save costs. It would’ve been cheaper to live further inland, but…

She’d had enough of that.

Besides, the place wasn’t actually hers. When she’d divorced Albion and come back to the coast, she’d also quit her job. With no contacts, no friends, and no savings that weren’t tied up in litigation, she would’ve had nowhere to go in her civilian identity. She also wasn’t sure if she was going to have to deal with a super-powered ex husband knocking at all hours, which was something most renters disapproved of, as a rule.

But where Minerva had no one, Athena had a lifeline. When she and Legionnaire had done volunteer work in the past, she’d always felt it was just part of her duty. An obligation that came with having superpowers. Sometimes you put the costume on to hit something, and sometimes you put the costume on to build something. Since neither of them had been dependent on their hero identity 24/7, they’d always declined any offers of compensation.

But that didn’t mean they’d been forgotten. Shepherd Flight was a volunteer group who specialized in organizing super powered individuals for rescue and relief operations - they mostly focused on the initial crisis, but weren’t afraid of working to help rebuild things too. Minerva had gone through floodwaters and hurricanes under their direction, and also used her strength to help hold up beams for building shelters. One of her favorite memories was helping plant a garden in a refugee camp.

Shepherd Flight was also known for its discretion. Several capes worked exclusively for them, staying out of hero or villain business in the traditional sense. Some of them maintained a separation between the mask and the civilian, but others didn’t.

So Minerva had gone to them, intending to ask if she could rest on a couch in their headquarters or something while she figured out her next move. Instead, a man named ‘Sun Dog’ had checked their records, asked her a few questions, and then handed her the keys to an address. Apparently, Shepherd Flight also aided ‘capes in distress.’

Minerva had scowled, but couldn’t really argue the point.

She’d looked into it since - the space they’d given her was most frequently used for helping move displaced persons who needed to travel, or temporary housing for other members of Shepherd Flight who needed a place unaffiliated with any identity. One of the questions she’d been asked was how she felt about potentially having a house full of strange guests on little-to-no notice. Minerva had grown up dealing with the Pacific Northwest’s forest fires, and had told Sun Dog she knew exactly how fast they could go. If refugees needed a place to stay, she’d gladly vacate.

So far, that hadn’t happened, though Sun Dog had also told her that someone would stop by occasionally with groceries, to keep the place stocked. And to check in on her.

She probably should’ve told them she was fine when she was whisked off to a supervillain’s private island. She hadn’t.

So she wasn’t surprised, per se, to open the door and see a stranger in the kitchen. Startled, perhaps. But neither of them attacked each other, so that was a good start.

“Uhm.” Said the person in the kitchen, holding a spoon awkwardly poised between their mouth and a pudding cup.

“Wrong door.” Minerva said automatically, holding the keys that had unlocked the front door and the guard mechanism.

“Is it?” The stranger asked hesitantly.

Minerva sighed, “No. I… lived here for a bit. As a… guest.”

“Oh!” The stranger lit up with a smile - and a touch of phantom flame that Minerva watched cautiously. “You must be the one who went missing! Yeah, they told me you might come back - hey, I’m Wi-Fire, by the way.”

They moved forward to offer a hand, slowing their approach when Minerva instinctively leaned away. Still, it wasn’t like she needed both hands to hold her bag, and once upon a time she’d been… better, if not exactly ‘good’ at this. So she took the offered hand, clasping it rather than shaking.

“Athena.” She returned, the introduction automatic. Instead of giving herself time to think about whether that was the right name to give, she forced herself onwards, remembering there were other details she was supposed to give on greeting. “She/Her.”

Wi-Fire’s grin broadened, and they bounced a little in place. “They/them!” They returned, even more cheerfully than before. “It’s the third bedroom that’s yours, right? I haven’t touched it, since he said you might come back, but I’ve only been here for about a week. That reminds me - have you called him yet? Sun Dog? He’s super worried about you, pun unintended.”

Minerva was, abruptly, reminded of Alexandria. “… No, I haven’t called him yet. I was just here to-“

She paused. What was she here to do? Spend a few hours staring at a wall, unobserved? Get the rest of her things and go? It wasn’t exactly much, just a few extra changes of clothes, a few books. She did want to make sure the space she’d used was clean, but given how little time she’d spent here, that shouldn’t take more than an hour. Two, if she stopped to do laundry.

Minerva had paused for too long. Wi-Fire just nodded, sympathetic. “Yeah, I feel that. I’m up in the attic - the other rooms are still empty, there’s nothing wrong with them or anything, I just.” They cut off, simply ending the sentence, as though a signal had been lost between one word and the next. They shrugged.

“Yeah.” Minerva echoed, thinking of how she’d chosen the room with the best view of the ocean, even if it was just a sliver.

Wi-Fire winces, “Crap. Sorry. Forgot we’re not supposed to really, like. Fraternize. I didn’t see anything?” Their last sentence is hopeful, as though an offering they want Minerva to take.

“It’s fine.” She assures them, readjusting her grip on her bag. “If you’ve seen me, you can pass on to Sun Dog that I’m fine, right?”

For a heartbeat, she thinks she’s pulled it off, and she’ll be able to just get her things and leave. But Wi-Fire just laughs.

“I mean, sure - but you’ll have to scram if you wanna avoid him.” They scrape at the bottom of the pudding cup. “He’ll be here in like. Twenty minutes?”

—-

Minerva is not done packing in twenty minutes. Actually, she’s not done in fifteen, which is when Sun Dog actually arrives. She can hear him greeting Wi-Fire from where she’s working upstairs, meticulously folding towels to be stored in the bathroom before she leaves.

Minerva snaps the final towel free of wrinkles, places it on the pile, and goes to meet him. Better she doesn’t get cornered.

Sun Dog and Wi-Fire aren’t talking, when Minerva arrives. No, that makes it sound like they’re in a stand off, and really, it’s more that they don’t need to be. Minerva catches the end of a fistbump-into-a-shoulder check, and an exchange of smiles, before Sun Dog’s eyes flick up and see her on the stairs.

“Ah!” In civilian clothing, Sun Dog looks like a Bay Area hobbyist come north. His reaction to seeing her is surprise, but also something positive. Joy? Excitement? Delight? “M-“

“Athena!” Wi-Fire cuts in, overriding Sun Dog with their own exclamation, and avoiding accidentally learning Minerva’s real name. Not that it matters, anymore.

Minerva’s spine could be used as a flagpole. “Sun Dog.” She replies, voice cool, as though their excitement at seeing her had been an embarrassment rather than an open welcome. It isn’t on purpose. “Wi-Fire.”

She doesn’t apologize for interrupting, or claim she didn’t mean to, because there’d be no point. Instead, Minerva meets Sun Dog’s gaze, “I’m cleaning up after myself, then I’ll be out of your way.”

“You don’t have to do that-“ Sun Dog starts to assure her, then backtracks. Minerva must have looked offended. “- but we’re grateful that you’d take the time.”

He glances at Wi-Fire, who gets the hint. They give Minerva a double thumbs-up, and another near maniacal grin, and then scamper off. Minerva is distracted, briefly, by the mental image of a young Synovus, gifted with fire instead of shadows.

Terrifying.

Still, thinking of the one problem won’t rid her of the other. Minerva descends the rest of the stairs to stand even with Sun Dog, her arms folded. Her expression must’ve shown something (or maybe Sun Dog just gauged the depths of the bags under her eyes) because instead of saying anything else, Sun Dog just tilts his head towards the door.

“How about a walk?”

—-

With the ocean not far, there was plenty of beach to walk along. It was too late in the season to hope for much sun, but again, it didn’t really bother Minerva. And, with both of them in nondescript windbreakers, they seemed no more suspicious than anyone else ever did.

She wished she didn’t feel like she needed to worry about being suspicious.

They walked in silence for a while, just the sound of sand crunching beneath boots, and the ever present roar of the ocean’s movements. The wind blew in from off the coast, sharp and cold. It whipped her hair around her face, but she mostly ignored it.

Eventually, Sun Dog broke the silence. “Did you know I didn’t actually intend to go by ‘Sun Dog’?”

Minerva glanced around, as though the wind and general absence of other people wasn’t enough to ensure they weren’t overheard. Sun Dog waited.

“Then why did you?”

“Media.” He answered simply. “I wanted to name myself Parhelion. Its the… let’s call it scientific word for a Sun Dog phenomena. They thought one had a better ring to it.”

“So you’re a scientist.” Minerva kicked lightly at the sand on her next step.

“Amateur, sure. But I don’t mind admitting that the name scared the hell out of me at first.”

Minerva hesitated, then nodded. “Yes. I can understand why.”

Sun Dog. In a world still recovering from the sudden disappearance of Sunhallow, any sun imagery was suddenly circumspect. It could be viewed in a hundred different lights, none of them favorable.

“I almost gave up being a hero entirely.” Sun Dog confided. “I was too scared that one day someone would show up, and tell me I was encroaching on their brand.”

Humor, but not enough to hide that neither of them speak his name. Minerva knows he’s dead - she’s seen the grave, spoken to his killer. But there is the thought that lingers. Just in case.

“Why didn’t you?” Minerva asked, staring forward at the tree line.

“Letters. One in particular, that told me he’d never be dead so long as we let him hold that much power over something so ubiquitous as the sun. They said they knew how much it must cost me, but that the world needed people like me to rebuild it, to heal over the scars.”

“And was that one from the Dalai Lama or the President.” Her voice wasn’t bitter so much as it was… dry. Humor. She’s learning how to use it again.

Sun Dog squinted into the wind. “Could’ve been either, I suppose. It was signed, but with a moniker. Eclipse.”

He glanced at her, shrugged. “I’ve never known anyone to go by that name.”

Minerva was silent for a step. Two. Then, “No. Neither have I.”

—-

They wind up stopping at a picnic table tucked just under the tree line, out of the worst of the wind. It’s one of those weather-worn gray contraptions, the kind someone placed years ago and forgot, leaving it for hikers or curious children.

They’ve talked about a few things, here and there. Sun Dog keeps offering small bits of himself, trying to draw Minerva out again, and slowly, she becomes part of the conversation. Childhood pets. Obnoxious commercial jingles that stick even after the company and product are long gone. Nothing pressing. Nothing political.

But after they’d spent a few minutes in a comfortable silence, a natural lull in the conversation, Sun Dog has pulled a deck of cards out of his pocket.

“Hope you’re not looking for poker.” Minerva said with barely a glance. “I don’t have anything to bet.”

Sun Dog laughed, “These aren’t those kind of cards. But if you’re willing, I’d like to do a reading for you. Tarot.”

“Wait.” Minerva raised her brows, leaning back slightly. “You don’t actually believe in those, do you?”

She realized, approximately half a second too late to stop herself, how offensive that likely sounded. Luckily, Sun Dog laughed again.

“You could use a tank as a baseball bat.” He said, corners of his eyes crinkled in a smile. “And have dealt with clairvoyants, shape-shifters, literal magic users - but ‘some cards’ is where you draw the line?”

Minerva ducked her head, submitting to the teasing. “Alright, you have a point. I don’t really know how they work, though.” “You don’t need to.” Sun Dog assured her. “You just need to shuffle and draw the cards. Three of them, face down, left to right. We’ll go over what they mean one by one.”

She felt, suddenly, unaccountably nervous. She managed a murmured thanks as Sun Dog handed her the deck, no longer stiff from newness, but not quite well-worn either. For a moment, she simply spread the cards in her hands, sliding them with her thumb, and studying the backs. They were larger than she remembered most playing cards being. She hoped she remembered how to shuffle correctly.

A few cuts of the deck, and a reassurance from Sun Dog that it was alright to bend them, and Minerva fanned the cards apart, couching them back together into a bridge. Another few cuts, another bridge. And the third time, to keep them balanced.

“Three off the top?” She asked. Sun Dog shrugged, “If that’s what speaks to you.” He laughed again at Minerva’s displeased expression, but nodded encouragingly. “Go on. Three cards, face down. That’s all.”

Minerva sighed. She pulled the card from the top, one from the bottom, and - fanning the cards again - slipped one from the middle at random, laying them each face down on the table in front of her.

“Good.” Sun Dog said encouragingly, accepting the rest of the deck back. “So, this is something of a ‘past, present, future’ spread. Go ahead and flip the first card.”

Minerva rolled her eyes, and moved to place her hand on it - then paused. This trepidation was unlike her. She had no reason to be nervous, because this was a pre-generated deck of cards. It held no personalized information, and could not reveal anything about her of substance, because it was a randomized card.

That argument wasn’t holding up the way it normally would’ve. Some part of her resolve crumbled.

Well. She reasoned, If it’s in the past, I’ve already survived it once. I can do it again.

That seemed to do the trick. She flipped the card over, and was greeted with the image of someone in what she placed as quintessential peasant’s garb… carrying a bundle of sticks? The roman numeral for ten was placed above it, and the individual’s face couldn’t be seen, buried in the bundle they were carrying as they walked away from the viewer.

“The ten of wands.” Sun Dog identified. “Wands are associated with fire. They tend to be about passion, strengths, and willpower. The ten of wands in particular is a representation of burden and responsibility. It is good to be depended on - but not to be overworked.”

Minerva shifted, but said nothing. Sun Dog gave her a moment, then indicated the next card. “The next one, then?”

This one took little effort to turn - whether it was out of a desire to get it over with or simply because she’d shaken off whatever feeling she’d had earlier, Minerva didn’t know. This time, the card was upside down, and she moved to straighten it.

“No -” Sun Dog stopped her, “I mean, if you want to flip it so you can look at it, you can, but drawing them upside down actually means something. ‘Reversed’ cards invert or change the meaning.”

Minerva pursed her lips, flipping the card briefly to get a better look at it. A figure visible only from the waist up, in what appeared to be mail and plate armor. A star spangled canopy offered protection from the yellow sky, and the numeral for seven that floated just above it. The figure had a staff in one hand, and what looked like two sphinxes in front of it - the left black, the white right, each with a different expression.

“The Chariot.” She read, flicking the card back over to be upside down again.

“Another willpower card.” Sun Dog commented. “The Chariot is triumphant - you see how the sphynxes are angled in opposite directions? They should go nowhere, but the driver manages to drive the chariot onwards. Nothing that they carry is a gift. Instead, they are rewards earned.”

“But it’s reversed,” Minerva said dryly, “Meaning… that I’m currently a freeloader?”

“Or that you feel that way.” Sun Dog countered. “The cards aren’t quite so literal as we might hope, sometimes. Go ahead and flip the third card.”

“Another upside down one.” Minerva remarked, considering the angel depicted on the card. “Sorry, reversed. Temperance.” She snorted, placing the card on the table with the others, and then shoving her hands into her pockets.

“Ah, I love the Temperance card.” Sun Dog picked it up briefly, smiling at it, before he laid it back down. “It’s a card of transitions, that one. I - is something wrong?”

Minerva hadn’t been able to hide her flinch at that one. She scowled, more angry at herself than anything - but it seemed the last few days had scraped her raw, left her open and readable. And… she did trust Sun Dog. So she forced herself to clear her throat, and spoke quietly;

“I have a daughter.”

Sun Dog made a vaguely congratulatory noise, a positive sympathy for someone speaking of their loved ones. Minerva’s hands bunched in her pockets.

“I spent most of her life convinced she was my son.” She said quietly.

“Ah.” Sun Dog leaned back, head canted so he could look up for a moment, considering. Minerva knew there was a wealth of information in that, and how she’d presented it, and the connections he could even now be drawing. But she’d refused to run from this. So she sat still, and unwavering, and waited for the judgment she deserved.

“I don’t think it means that kind of transition.” Sun Dog said finally, looking back at her again. “Not in this context, though a gender transition is a common reading of the card. My congratulations to your daughter, by the way.”

Minerva let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. “Then it doesn’t….” She trailed off, mind unwilling to complete the sentence.

“Doesn’t what?”

“This is the future card, isn’t it?” She said quietly, rather than elaborate immediately. “And reversed, meaning an inverse of the meaning. So if it was about - her transition, and how I pertain to it, then… I would be a roadblock to it. I wouldn’t…” She trailed off again, but Sun Dog only waited.

“... get better.” She finished lamely.

“That you’re worried about it tells me how much you care,” Sun Dog said gently, placing one hand halfway across the table. He couldn’t take hers, given she still had them clenched in her pockets, but she recognized the gesture for what it was meant to be. “But no, I don’t think that’s what the card means in this context. Temperance is the balance between remaining practical, and our dreams. Grounded reality, versus the water of our dreams.”

“So I’m… losing that balance?”

Sun Dog hummed, uncertain, “You might lose that balance, that could be an outcome.” He acknowledged. “But take the cards as they’re important to you. Water is fairly important to you, right?”

Minerva only nodded.

“Then perhaps the reversal isn’t telling you that you’re going to lose your balance. Maybe it’s telling you not to worry so much about that balance - that temperance is not, in fact, what you need to do now.” Sun Dog raised his hands, “I’m no expert. But sometimes we really do need to let loose.”

Minerva stared at the card arrangement for several more minutes. Her mind picked up on patterns, even when she didn’t mean for it to, didn’t intend to read into it. The past, hiding her face from everyone in a mask, carrying a burden she thought she was obligated to take on. The present, lost, her rules turned on their head as surely as the chariot driver was. A canopy of stars, protective shadows against a sky of light… and a being that was neither male nor female, free, offering her the opportunity to move on.

“I’m not taking advice from a deck of cards.” She heard herself say.

Sun Dog shrugged. “Then take it as advice from me. You see something in the cards - that’s what they’re for. Reflecting what you need to see, to be able to face it.”

Minerva let out a long breath, forcing herself to relax the tension that had settled into her shoulders and spine. She looked up, meeting Sun Dog’s gaze with her own.

“How much do you know about Synovus?”

---

[It's funny - I posted the first of Synovus's story over a year ago. I added onto it, here and there, but the draft to post this was started in... September of 2022? Yet, every day, I get a notification, either through Tumblr or Ao3, that someone has found Synovus, and expressed joy about it somehow. It's... remarkable. I love you all, and thank you for reading!]

#synoverse #synovus #siren call

446 notes · View notes