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goosewriting · 5 hours

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One last chance III

summary: third and final part to one last chance! the long awaited reunion :3

relationship: Rise!Leo x gn!reader

warnings: mentions of blood

word count: 3.1k

A/N: at long last, here it is! since there’s a bunch of hopping between worlds, i added clarifications for when the story changes into another timeline (NY: new york aka main timeline / KR: krangpocalypse timeline / TR: triceraton world). that way you can differentiate if there’s an actual change of place or if it’s just a time skip! i really hope you like it :’)

Navigation: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 (you’re here!)

(english is not my first language. constructive criticism and grammar corrections are very appreciated!)

— — —

The very next day, Leo and you gathered the other turtle brothers and Casey at the dinner table to tell them your plan. Mikey would have to open two more portals; one to get the older Leo from Casey’s timeline, and one portal to go place him in the Triceraton world with the other older you.

You two watched as everyone processed your words, displaying different emotions in their faces. Your gaze fell on Mikey, who furrowed is brows, fidgeting with his fingers.

“I don’t know if I have it in me,” the youngest turtle admitted. Raph placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“It does sound dangerous,” the eldest said.

“I don’t even know how to find those dimensions again,” Mikey added.

“Just do the same thing you were doing last time,” you offered. “What were you thinking about when Leo fell through?”

Mikey scratched his chin as he thought it over.

“I don’t know, dino nuggets?”

“Makes sense,” Leo said with a serious nod. You playfully rolled your eyes.

“How will you find my timeline, though?” asked Casey.

“With you, actually,” Donnie chimed in, bringing his hands in front of him with touching fingertips. “Your quantum signature should be unique enough to pinpoint it. I’ll build something to amplify Mikey’s powers.”

“Sounds like we have a plan, then,” Leo concluded, placing his hands on the table and standing up. “Let’s get started.”

– – –

Mikey trained with smaller things first, making portals from one room to the other, and catching things mid-air and safely placing them on the ground. Meanwhile, you and Leo prepared a place where older Leo could stay. One portal already took a lot of effort; you didn’t really want to overexert Mikey and have him make two big ones, one right after the other. Also, future Leo might be hurt, so Raph helped you gather supplies for a little first aid kit as well.

The night before the big day, when Mikey would open the first portal, you were way too excited to sleep. You looked over at Leo, both of you in his bed, and it seemed he wasn’t feeling much differently, nervously tapping his fingers on his chest.

“It’s gonna work, right?” he asked in a low voice.

“I think so, yeah,” you replied genuinely.

“Do you think I- he’ll be… mad?” You propped yourself up on your elbow at his question.

“You’re asking me? Shouldn’t you know better than anyone?”

“Iunno,” he mumbled, and you gave him a sympathetic smile.

“Well... If everyone you knew were gone, and you had the chance to spend more time with them, even if they’re technically a different version from another dimension, wouldn’t you want to see them?”

He thought it over for a moment.

“I think so, yeah,” he replied.

“I know I’d want it too.”

For a moment, you two just looked at each other in the dim light of his room, then a giggle escaped you.

“What?” he asked with a suspicious smile. You sighed, lying back down properly and cuddling into his side.

“It’s like a tragic love story. Two star crossed lovers, promising to find each other in any universe.”

Leo took your hand, giving it a squeeze.

“I’d look for you in every universe,” he whispered. You hid face in the pillow with a groan.

“You’re so corny,” you laughed.

“And you love me for it.”

“Hmm, I do,” you said, stretching your neck to place a kiss on his cheek, then went back to getting comfortable.

Finally feeling a little more at ease, sleep slowly started to take over.

“I just hope he’s… still there,” Leo said so lowly you almost missed it. “The way Casey described the future, it was super bleak. I hope nothing happened to–”

“Shush,” you interrupted him, hugging his torso to reassure him. “It will work, I know it.”

“Hmm, yeah. It’ll work.”

With that, you both drifted off to sleep.

– – – [NY]

Donnie had built a hollow box of sorts, big enough to stand in it, with two wires coming out of either side. He put it on the floor, told Casey to step into it, and he activated it with his own nimpo, one wire connecting to Mikey, one to Donnie. The rest of you held onto Mikey’s arms like last time.

“It’s go time,” Donnie said with a wicked smile of sorts as the device started glowing.

– – – [KR]

Leo tried to hold back a pained groan between his pants. He looked at his leg; that’s a lot of blood. That krangified creature had got him good.

He tried getting back to his feet, but his leg gave out under him, and he was back on the ground, leaning onto the broken pieces of what used to be a building, sticking out from the dark sand that had taken over everything, transforming the urban landscape into a wasteland.

This is it, he thought, and bitterly smiled to himself. I’ve had a good run. Wish I had done some things differently, but…

Images of you flooded his mind, his brothers, Splinter, April, Casey… Ah, he really hoped the boy made it.

A growling noise tore him out of his thoughts, and he saw the creature that had got him in this situation in the first place, approaching him slowly, about to pounce. With a deep exhale, Leo accepted his fate, finding no more fight left in him. He looked at the handle of his sword, now donning three coloured bands.

“Just get it over with!” he called out to the creature. Just as it was crouching down to build up its energy to jump, there was an all too familiar sizzling sound between him and the creature.

Leo tiredly opened his eyes, and his brows rose in disbelief at what he was seeing. It was one of Mikey’s portals, moving towards him.

“What the—”

He got swept through the portal like a fish getting caught by a landing net. Gone was the coarse sand under him, replaced by something soft and warm and inviting. In front of him, figures he fully believed he’d never get to see again: his brothers, all alive; his younger self, looking at him with the same shock; Casey, and… you.

Mikey collapsed on the ground with a grunt. Raph picked him up and Donnie took them to his lab. Casey stepped out from his little box, which had deactivated the moment the portal disappeared.

“M-master Leonardo?” the boy asked in a mix of disbelief, surprise, and happiness.

“Casey Junior,” the older Leo greeted him with a tired grin. “You made it.”

“Found the key, stopped the Krang,” Casey replied with the instructions his master had made him repeat back then. As his eyes started welling up with tears, Casey ran up to Leo and hugged him, which earned a groan of pain from the older turtle, but it turned into a chuckle. He hugged him back to the best of his abilities.

That’s when you noticed the turtle’s leg.

“O-oh my goodness, that looks very much not good,” you exclaimed, pointing at the wound covered in blood and debris.

“Yeesh,” younger Leo cringed after following your eyes.

You got to work cleaning up his wounds, disinfecting, and bandaging everything up. Older Leo was too exhausted to protest.

As the three of you were cleaning the grime off of hte turtle with a wet rag, you came to his right shoulder, and what you had thought was a giant glove, slid off slightly. So you took it off to be able to clean him better, except that instead of sliding the garment off his arm, the whole thing came off, leaving only a stubble reaching to just above where his elbow would be. Leo audibly gasped behind you.

“I- you- what happened to your arm?” Leo asked, turning to the boy on the patient’s other side. “Casey, you didn’t tell me I lost a whole arm!”

“There’s a lot I didn’t tell you, and it was for a reason–”

“Guys,” the older turtle interrupted.

Everyone got their attention back to the man on the pile of blankets.

“As much as I’m glad that you’re all okay, what am I doing here?” he questioned, his eyes jumping from Casey, to Leo, to you.

“Don’t worry about it, just rest up,” Casey instructed.

“Yeah, we have a plan,” you added with a smile. “Just… get your energy back. We’ll explain everything later.”

He was too tired to argue, so he just let himself drift off into the welcoming embrace of sleep, and with a deep exhale, he passed out on the spot.

“Casey, stay with him,” you told the boy. “We’ll check on Mikey.”

With a nod you instructed Leo to follow you, and you went to the lab, where you found Mikey on a makeshift cot. He was fine, also napping. Donnie assured you he just needed some rest.

You all took turns for the next several hours to watch over the two; you caught pieces of conversations here and there, depending on whether older Leo was awake and whose turn it was to keep him company. But you tried not to eavesdrop, as you were sure he was telling them important but personal things. The one you were very curious about was the conversation older Leo had with Splinter. It seemed to be very emotional, but you kept your distance to give them some privacy. The boys’ father retired to his room for most of the day after they talked.

When it was your turn to take care of Leo, you brought some food and a change of bandages for his legs.

“No one’s told me yet what’s going on,” he said after you handed him his food. “They told me it was your idea?”

You were kneeling next to him, and squirmed a little in your seat.

“Are you sure you want to know now?” you asked, your gaze falling to your lap. “Don’t you want to recover a little more? You’re still in pretty rough shape–”

Leo interrupted you by calling your name. Your eyes darted back up to him and he raised a brow at you as he took a bite of the sandwich. You smiled to yourself. Some things really never change; that’s the same look young Leo would have given you in this situation.

With a sigh of defeat, you told him how after you had had your encounter in the alleyway, your timeline’s Leo had a similar one with an alternate older version of yourself, in a world where a different alien species had invaded Earth, but they were at peace now. Their Leo had died in the process, though.

“So,” you concluded after your retelling. “Leo and I, I mean my Leo, I mean…” You couldn’t help the heat creeping up to your cheeks, and the turtle gave you a knowing smirk. “Me and this world’s Leo; we thought we could help you guys out. You were left alone in a world that had no hope of being saved. And my other self is in a world worth living in, but is missing you. So, you know. 1+1=2 and here you are.”

Older Leo seemed genuinely surprised by your words. Whatever it was he had expected, this was not it.

“I mean, you’re also free to stay here if you want to,” you offered, pointing over your shoulder. “There’s already Casey, so… I’m sure he’d like it if you stayed.”

“No can do,” Leo said with a sad smile, and you frowned. “I don’t really like the idea of playing with the timelines; my Donnie would have been vehemently against it.” He smiled nostalgically as he looked to the side for a second, then brought his attention back to you. “But in the end, he probably would have come to a similar conclusion. It’s obvious I’m not gonna ask you to bring me back to my timeline…. You were right on time, you know? A moment later and I would have been a goner.”

You gave him a worried look, but he dismissed it with a gesture of his hand.

“But,” he continued. “This isn’t my place to stay, either. I’ll take you up on your offer.” You perked up at that. “A different world at peace sounds pretty nice right about now.”

“From what Leo told me, everyone else seems to be alive there, you know,” you told him as you took out a fresh roll of gauzes from the supply box. “Raph, Mikey and Donnie. I’m sure they all miss you.”

Leo smiled, taking another bite of his sandwich as you started working on his leg.

“And I miss them.”

“And I know it’s not the same because you won’t have the same memories and stuff–”

“Hey. It’s okay,” he calmed your doubts, holding your hand. “I appreciate it. Thank you.”

You merely gave him a nod, your heart racing at the gesture. His hand was so big, his whole presence made you feel so safe; you couldn’t wait to see your Leo keep growing and become the man you had in front of you now.

Not long after, when Mikey started feeling better, you all started preparing Leo’s departure.

– – – [TR]

You were taking your evening stroll through the park as you’d usually do. It had been raining all day though, and the cool wind seemed to make the droplets seep further into your clothes. As per usual, your feet brought you to the memorial statue by themselves, like they always did when you were lost in thought.

Your grip tightened around your umbrella. It’s been so many years. Maybe it was time to finally let go. This grief was getting you nowhere. Leo wouldn’t want you to waste away like this just because he wasn’t there.

Standing in front of the statue, you let your eyes wander over it, looking at all the little details, discovering some new cracks in the rock. You did your best to keep it clean and all, but time, wind and rain seemed to chip away at it, no matter your efforts. Kind of like you felt, too, you concluded with a defeated sigh.

Bringing your gaze back to the turtle’s heroic face expression, you tilted your head lightly. Just what were you supposed to do now?

– – – [NY]

Everyone got into position just like for the other portal, but you stayed back this time. You were facing away from where the yellow ring of light would open, as you didn’t want to see your older self.

“You sure you don’t want to see?” Leo asked. “The dinos looked pretty cool?” You chuckled.

“Nah, it’s okay,” you answered, looking up at him with a smile. “I don’t need to see other worlds, I have everything I need right here.”

You placed a quick kiss to the corner of his mouth. The turtle wasn’t able to reciprocate, but blushed as he spotted his older self a couple of steps away, giving him a thumbs up.

– – – [TR]

You took one last look at the statue, some droplets hitting your face in the wind, which was starting to pick up. Just as you meant to turn around to leave, you heard some zaps behind you.

Just like last time, a flurry of yellow lights materialised out of nowhere over the gravel path of the park, expanding and clearing up until you could see through it. Young Leo hopped into your world, calling out to you with relief, as it meant he didn’t have to go look for you.

“I’m so glad you’re here!” he said as he jogged the short distance to where you stood.

“Wha- You’re back?” You were shocked to your bones, as you really thought you would never get to see any Leo ever again. “Why? How?”

“Doesn’t matter, I won’t be long either,” Leo informed you, taking your hand that you had stretched out to him. “I just came to say hi and bring you a gift.”

He let go and stepped aside. From behind him, another figure stepped through the portal. Your hand came to your mouth as you gasped, your umbrella dropping to the ground.

Mikey groaned from the effort, the glowing yellow cracks expanding further over his arms.

“Hurry it up, guys!” Raph called from the other side of the portal. “Mikey can’t hold it open much longer!”

Turning to you, younger Leo held your hands one last time, and you dragged your eyes from one blue clad turtle to the younger one.

“Give him the happy ending you both deserved, alright?” he asked, and giving you and older Leo one last hug, he hurried back to the portal, which started becoming more unstable by the second, the zaps threatening to collapse any moment now.

And not a second too soon, younger Leo left the scene, the portal closing right behind him with a loud crackle.

Leo and you were left alone in the rain, looking at each other and just taking each other in.

“Hey,” Leo spoke first, taking a couple of steps in your direction.

“... Hi,“ you greeted him, your voice almost inaudible, as you looked him up and down repeatedly in disbelief.

“The kids had a crazy idea and… it worked.”

You let out a shuddering breath, looking at your hands, opening and closing them in an attempt to ground yourself.

“What timeline are you from?” you finally asked. Leo had to take a moment to think how to even answer that.

“The bad ending, I guess?” he settled on. “One where the world ended. I lost everything.”

He looked up at the statue of himself and smiled.

“This one didn’t lose an arm though, huh.”

His attempt at lightening the mood was short-lived, as the small smile that had formed on your face disappeared just as quickly.

“No, but he lost everything, too,” you said, your hands clenching into fists as you dragged your eyes back up to meet his warm ones.

“You think I can fill the vacant spot he left open for this world’s coolest Leonardo?”

You couldn’t help but snort this time.

“Yeah,” you offered, relaxing visibly. “I think he’d be okay with that.”

Leo finally approached you, carefully stroking over your cheek with the back of his hand, and you leaned into the touch. The rain hitting your face mixed with your tears.

“Okaerinasai,” you welcomed him back home as you placed your hand over his. He leaned down to touch his forehead to yours.

“Tadaima.”

— — —

Bonus:

“You think they’ll be okay?” you asked Leo after the portal closed.

“You said it yourself,” he said, placing his arm over your shoulder. “Star crossed lovers: they’ll always find back to each other because they belong together.”

~~~~~

🐥 taglist: [link to join in my pinned post!] @theoriginalmintyyyshake, @DyByNyght, @Lieutenantlashfaz, @galaxtic-writings, @Lovestruckfictionadict, @salty-s-r, @sleebykei, @miso-sopas, @duckanon, @wings-of-sapphire, @ashtheboookworm2, @xxnoxx, @crystal-crax, @lunaramune

also tagging the people in the comments in the second part who wanted to see a reunion! feel free to ignore 🙈

@koalaray, @catr4dora, @mialettt, @flowerloves, @franbowidk, @warrior-girl, @nessarolla-in-constant-flux, @crystal-crax, @kitkattzz

#goose feathers #rottmnt #save rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #rise of the tmnt x reader #tmnt x reader #rottmnt x reader #tmnt 2018 #rottmnt leo x reader #leonardo x reader #rise leo x reader

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turtleblogatlast · 6 months

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We were robbed of a Hueso Jr. episode because good god I need he and Leo to interact.

I can just imagine an episode where a very busy Hueso has no choice but to ask Leo to babysit, and Leo’s like heck yeah I’d rock at that.

And of course Hueso is constantly like oh god what if something goes wrong that’s PEPINO he left with his CHILD.

So continuously throughout the episode he imagines the worst case scenarios for what could possibly be happening.

Every time Hueso imagines another catastrophic scenario the scene cuts back to Leo and Hueso Jr just calmly watching a movie or playing a game or something else equally as innocuous.

Eventually the worry gets to Hueso so much that he cuts his business short and races back home to see -

A peacefully sleeping Hueso Jr smiling as he lays snuggled up next to a shockingly quiet Leonardo.

He’s pleasantly surprised, and agrees to ask for Leo again next time he needs a babysitter.

Or, as it seems he may need to, when Hueso Jr. wants Leo to visit.

#rottmnt #rottmnt leo #rottmnt hueso #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt headcanons #you can also imagine this story as a two parter where the first is Hueso’s perspective where all he thinks will go wrong actually don’t #meanwhile the second part is Leo’s perspective where an accidental portal mishap (not Leo’s fault this time!)#(Jr may or may not have snuck into his father’s office and grabbed a portal stone)#thus begins a chase where Leo pulls out all stops to make sure this shockingly slippery child is safe #at the end they’re both exhausted but on the top of a skyscraper and Hueso Jr is just like wow #so Leo is like you know what…I can do you one better #so he shows off the view from the Empire State Building that Jr never got the opportunity to experience #obviously the kid passes out when they get back but it’s the most fun he’s ever had #anyway I’m in my all Leo’s are good with kids agenda

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arklay · 6 months

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RESIDENT EVIL → THE WESKER FAMILY

To the public, little is known of the families behind some of the world’s most renowned bioterrorists, but the question remains: did they play a role in causing their children to walk down the path that they did? Or are these individuals simply ambitious criminals with delusions of grandeur?

For Diana Wesker (née Afanasyeva), her introduction into the bioweapons black market trade was upon discovering her employers were using her research into limb regeneration with salamanders to further their experiments in creating enhanced soldiers, instead of developing human therapies with which she was recruited for. Although the prospect of using biological weapons in the military did not appeal to her, the concept remained fascinating for her own selfish endeavours. Born on the 27th of October, 1963 in Sydney, Australia to Russian immigrant parents, Diana had harsh expectations placed upon her at a young age, ones that no matter how hard she tried she could never live up to. Her mother, Tatyana, was an unfeeling woman, absent for long stretches of time with little regard to how it affected her daughters, much more concerned with her craft as an accomplished opera singer. Viktor was no better. A strict man whose role as father and ballet master blurred, he pushed his girls to one day follow in his footsteps. Whilst Sofia enjoyed ballet, and went on to become a professional ballet dancer, Diana’s heart was set on going into the field of biology. She wished to make a name for herself, separate from her family – to which she succeeded.

Diana was married to former U.S. Marine, Dave Monroe, for only a year until he was declared dead in 1992 after succumbing to injuries sustained in a horrific car accident. Foul play was ruled out while Diana played the role of the grief-stricken widow, but in reality, she had snapped after years of mistreatment at her husband’s hands, and opted for something she could pass off as an accident to be free of him. For years she believed he was dead – and he was, legally – but that proved to not be the case when he found his way back into her life again in 1999. Unbeknownst to her, she had been lied to by the police and coroner, who were paid off by her employers when they took Dave’s body for themselves and used him as one of their first test subjects in developing supersoldiers. Before he could ever hurt her again, Diana’s second husband, Albert Wesker, tracked the man down, captured him and tortured him, before allowing Diana to get her violent and bloody revenge.

The origins of Albert Wesker’s involvement in bioterrorism, alongside his twin sister, Alex, are much different than that of Diana’s. The two hail from London, Canada, but unfortunately, they hold no memories of their lives there, nor what happened to their biological parents when they were eight years old. Agents of Oswell E. Spencer, an aristocratic billionaire and eugenicist, took the twins from their home and executed their parents as per Spencer’s orders. Albert and Alex were then placed in a home funded by the Spencer Foundation where they were given new names and a privileged upbringing. They had access to the best education possible, free to pursue whichever field they decided, but it was by no accident they both went into virology and bioengineering; at home, their adoptive parents – agents whom they believed to be their real parents – instilled them with the beliefs of Oswell E. Spencer, harbouring disdain for war and pestilence, and believing humans to be an evolutionary dead-end in need of a rebirth. They were only two of the hundreds of children “adopted” as part of what is known as Project W, a plan intended to develop an advanced race of human beings. The most promising candidates were headhunted by Umbrella Pharmaceuticals, the twins amongst them, where they went on to create bioweapons for the company founded by none other than the man who had handpicked them for his plan. The final stage of this was to infect the thirteen Spencer saw fit, however, only two survived; Albert received the intended effects, now possessing superhuman abilities, however, Alex was only offered more time to live due to her terminal degenerative illness.

In the summer of 1995, Diana was working undercover within Umbrella to gather development data on their projects for her company. Here, she had a chance encounter with Albert, an intelligence officer at the time, which permanently altered the course of her life. The two were never seen far from one another’s side, marrying in 1998, and they went on to become notorious in the bioweapons industry. The development of the Uroboros virus was where things took a turn for the worst. Although Diana’s infection was successful and she bore abilities that rivalled her husband’s, the plan itself did not succeed as they had hoped, and almost cost Albert his life at the hands of his former subordinates.

Now, they work within the shadows, with Diana declared missing and Albert believed to be dead. Their legacy, however, lives on with the mark they left on the world. As visionaries in their field, they influenced bioterror attacks carried out by countless individuals and organisations. In turn, they also inspired others to fight against such atrocities. One such person happens to be Albert’s son from a former relationship, Jake Müller, whose existence he was unaware of.

#mine.#oc: diana #pair: ewskers #click for better quality cause it's large & tumblr ate it ♡#hii so happy birthday diana !! queen is 60 today :]#um. there's no template cause i made this from scratch...i couldn't find any i was vibing with so i was like you know what lmaoo #i'm sorry for the essay...it was meant to be just a short rundown of the family but well...that happened. typical leah fashion...#oh and guys. did you know that there's a limit to the amount you can put in one blockquote? that's why the rest is just left like that caus #i didn't like how it looked with a blockquote each paragraph...cause the spaces between were unever. you understand 😔#with the tree i was also going to include weskids adoptive parents but i couldn't figure out how to arrange it all & make it look nice !!#cause i also wanted to have spencer in there as well cause he's a big reason why the weskids are the way they are...was maybe gonna include #sherry as well. like connected to jake (hehe) and then do her parents too but that would've made things so wide & it's already big enough #yes. i hc that albert & alex are biological twins. just for clarification there :] i don't think i added anything else that isn't canon or #implied with canon. cause the weskids were put in homes (or at least whatever ''controlled environments'' means) where they were monitored #by umbrella but were unaware of it. so yeah. i don't think i really changed much there !!#honestly i could've kept rambling cause there's alex's whole situation. there's my lore with jake's mum. there's way more with the ewskers #but it's already so long & i can't be concise so there's that lmaoo oh also diana's grandma. so much stuff #also meant to say the weskids birthday in that ramble. it's january 15 1960 :] they are capricorn sun leo moons but alex was born earlier s #their rising signs are albert is a scorpio rising & alex is a libra rising !!#had to redo the image cause typo on diana's birth year for some reason lmao so if that messed up the formatting i will sob

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sydmarch · 1 year

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anyway this is what i was actually trying to find. fucking thinking about this.

#NEED to know about their young adulthood. acele is described as 'late teens to early twenties' & we have no fucking clue how old evrart #is beyond 'around the same age as harry' which could mean anything when klaasje thinks hes 44 & kim thinks hes 56 #but i imagine they ARE actuslly very close in age bcus it'd just make sense wrt the timing of the revolution & all & yknow the parallels #so like they definitely could have been somewhere in their mid or late 20s when they came into power? & this 'at her age' as just a handful #of years before that? (choosing to just believe this line rather than taking it as him only trying to 'kids will be kids'ing away the drug #lab thing & making something up. so i can totally just like imagine lots of anger. at the state of things. about powerlessness. what do we #DO about it? probably getting into trouble & getting in fights for a long time. like leo says they ALWAYS came to help it wasn't just a one #off thing where they defended him it was just that one incident where the bullying stopped. bcus they beat him until he NEEDED STITCHES #like god i can just imagine their childhood & then the adolescent & young adult frustration & all of that coalescing into ok we WILL do #something to make things better. whatever it takes even. coming to the decision it's worth killing for #'your honor it's fine that my little meow meow had someone assassinated he had a bad childhood you see'#im chewing through concrete im throwing up im pacing my enclosure #anyway. me when i'm normal about the video game men #texticles #de #disco elysium #evrart

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gobstoppr · 2 months

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and btw im in my hater arc rn. as time goes on the more i find a lot of 'fandom' stuff insufferable (i like art n stuff. just the way that fandom refits every media to fit a single mold and set of boring archetypes is exhausting.)

i just get really easily annoyed lately. and have been unfollowing people on a whim a lot. its not personal i promise

#fandom culture has made me actively dislike shit i was fixated on a year ago. looking at your ninja turtles #its not even like what they were doing were particularly offensive it was just exhaustingly boring #im sorry i just really dont care about ur 2 million fics about leo being a sadboy. or one million seperated aus.#theres definetly a part of the whole situation in general which has been me coming to terms with my own internalized misogny #actively re-examining my tendencys to gravity towards male characters #idk maybe its making me dislike art more. but idk. ive always analyzed why i react certain ways to certain things. this isnt new for me #anywaays. i had been following a bunch of ninja turtle blogs and they sorta kept messing around with shows like ninjago too #and at some point i was just like. i dont know if these shows are actually that good guys. i think youjust like shows for little boys #and fandoms tend to shaft female chars so it sure helps that their casts are 98% male .#maybe theyre not your blorbo maybe theyre just Guy McAverageMan. thats not inherently bad but you have to consider it.#guys rottmnt is isnt even that good . its not that good ok. its alright/pretty good. and the movie does a few neat things #i feel like ive become one of those people that turn 18 and then immediately go 'minors dni'. im not there yet but i just.#we're watching kids shows. its ok . you can say it.#you may have noticed ive been reblogging a lot of dungeon meshi stuff. i read it all over the past week.#but here's the thing. i thought it was mid/good for like 70% of it.#i think its got some really really cool worldbuilding ideas and stuff #but i think a lot of the writing was sorta. uninteresting to me.#my discord friends have been raving over izutsumi for months.#but i found her presence in the story to be weird and underdeveloped. she felt out of place and her introduction felt clumsy #i felt when the story was ramping up the manga got a lot better. because again theres some rlly cool ideas at play #all the shit with the lion? incredible. the way all the infighting led to more problems bc the elves refuse to explain anything? rlly good.#marcille landing in power? reallly good shit. (i still thought it was a lil undercooked still tho)#i cant stop thinking about laios in that climax scene. i think he shouldve been feral a lot more often #uhh. i got distracted. fandom bad and annoying.#saw a post talking about marcille realizing izutsumi is only 17 and then describing how 'omg shes a mom now' and i wanted to throw up #im done. i swear. im done talking for real. aagh #text

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alteredphoenix · 9 months

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You know what, fuck it, I’m going to say it:

If Episode Final had revealed so much as a hint as to who Michelle’s parents were and what her heritage was and just left it hanging, unanswered, I would have been absolutely fucking livid.

Here’s a girl who’s spent fifteen years of her life where nothing in particular remotely happened, nine of which were spent raised under the care of a man whom I honestly don’t think is related to her at all who taught her medical science in a little village by the sea in Sheep Country, and tells her she’s definitely not this “goddess of healing” everybody else has been calling her as of late because those artes may as well be miracles performed in the flesh and that she shouldn’t be so dependent on them. She doesn’t know who her parents and where they are, other than being doctors that were born outside of Sheep Country, but they’re not in her life and haven’t been for as long as she can remember she can’t even put a name or face to them, and the one person who does have the answers for them keeps putting the talk off for years until one day he gets to hear said girl tell him that no, she’s not staying put and letting the adults get the ingredient they need to heal the Random Joe that got poisoned by a beast that shouldn’t be so close to their little village by the sea, she’s going out there, and she’s doing it with her artes - the same artes she uses to help heal people with, except this time they’re weaponized, he had no idea where she had learned to do all of that, and by Origin she’s hitting the coast and getting that damn flower whether he wants her to or not - and she gets it. She gets it with the help of a soldier passing by and makes it back home in one piece, none the worse for wear. (And isn’t it so strange that a girl raised among sheep is using a wolf in her repertoire of magic? Isn’t it just so strange she’s using the shape of not only one of the sheep’s most fearsome predators but her country’s - and her faction’s - greatest enemy, as well?) But even as she goes back home to help make the medicine that’ll save her patient, she never stops asking the questions she spoke out loud in the Salty Cove: What were my parents like? Were they worried about me getting hurt when I was a child? Which one of them did I get my artes from? Did I get them from both of them? How come they never came to see me?

Here’s a girl that’s running the counter at the clinic like usual, a normal day in a rather normal life, and one day the man that’s been raising her for almost ten years decides to tell her that lunch can wait, there’s something more important they need to do - that he needs to do, something more important that she needs to hear, and he lays it out to simple and clear: he’s going to tell her everything about her parents, the people she’s always wanted to know about, and put all those questions she’s been asking him and to herself to rest. No more secrets. Here’s a girl who’s this close to knowing, this close to having the truth be revealed, and in a fit of cosmic irony - be it out of a sense of morbid humor or cruelty - they get cut off. They find out a man’s been injured; he’s in dire straits and he needs to be tended to and fast. Here’s a girl that’s ready to tear through the house for medicine that might ease his pain when there’s a knock on the door, and it’s the lady soldier from before at the Cove. She tells her that a guy got attacked not by beasts but people and showing signs of a disease that infects the person with a change that turns them into something other, more demon than man, and he needs to be found ASAP.

And then her grandfather gets bitten. The change is already taking hold of him. And then she finds out from the soldier that once it happens there’s no cure. There is no saving someone from infection, and that’s there only recourse, and that recourse is death. Death before the virus can spread. And suddenly all the answers that she could have had about her parents, the family she never knew, are ripped away from her. Suddenly the man that held those answers, the man who raised her and gave her a childhood, is on death’s door, and there is no saving him from the infection that is going to rob him of his will and thought and turn him into a monster whose only goal is to kill and keep the virus going. Suddenly the soldier, the medic who’s been traveling the countryside searching for the group that was infected to put them down, is drawing her blade with a remorseful look in her eye. Suddenly, the life as the girl knows it comes crashing down, just like that.

She snaps. For the first time she’s not using her artes to heal but to hurt, to stop the soldier from killing the only family she has - the only family she has left and has ever known - and gets him out of there, passing him off to a friend with the promise that he gets her grandfather as far away from the little village by the sea as possible. And then she turns her sights on the soldiers that accompanied their captain, these people that have the nerve to take away her family from her. And so she turns the wolves on them, and in their shock they’re driven from her home, and that is good enough for her. It’s good enough for her to run and catch up and find her friend and grandfather. Except when she does he tells her her grandfather managed to get away, making for the Salty Cove. And so she runs, Federation soldiers and their lady knight hot on her heels.

Very briefly, she considers bolting for the north, the land of her enemy. Very briefly, she considers finding refuge and hope and solace within the Land of Wolves, where the sheep dare not tread.

Here’s a girl that finally finds him, worse than he looked before at the bite’s onset, and the knight corners her. There’s nowhere left to run. She tells her it has to be done. Doing it hurts her just as much as the sight of the man suffering from his infliction hurts the girl. If there was a way to save him she would do so in a heartbeat. But there isn’t; the choice has already been - she must kill him. But so has the girl. The girl tells her she won’t let her take him from her. And the knight agrees. She knows what she’s about to do is awful and is going to stick with the girl for the rest of her life - for both their lives. She does not condemn for her feelings. If that is how you truly feel, she tells the girl, then show me your resolve!

And so they fight. Neither will back down. And yet, despite the reaction the girl had at the little village by the sea, the knight tells her that in doing so she had saved everyone from suffering the same fate that’s befallen her grandfather. That by removing him from human contact, she has effectively put an end to the threat that would have hung over them. Through her, the disease will be vanquished from the face of the Land of Sheep. And here’s a girl who denies it, that she didn’t do it out of altruism. Here’s a girl that denies she did it for the man who is her only family and not for others. Through him she was given a purpose. Through him her life was made valuable. And still the knight does not condemn her. Still she tells her that even with things coming to a head as they are now, her feelings are not wrong. She loves her family more than anything in the world.

And then her grandfather gets up and charge when they’re at a standstill. And then the knight moves, too fast for the girl to see, and runs her blade through him. And then they learn that he wasn’t as far long as he appeared, that he made the choice of his own free will, and spends his final moments in the girl’s arms, voicing his regrets. And then he lets her go. And then he dies - and with it all the answers she could’ve had. All the value and purpose she had been given in her life has been rendered null - just like that.

Despite it all, we never get any more information on her family beyond that. We don’t even get a mention of there possibly being a note, something, that Ollie could have left behind to at least give Michelle an idea as to where to start looking. Could she have found it at Aedis? It’s possible; after all, Grace was the one that gave her the admittance letter to pack up and leave the only place she’s ever called home. It’s at Aedis she finds a new family to call her own, friends she has only ever dreamed of having and a school she has always imagined herself being in. It’s through Aedis she would have found a new purpose and find the value she thought was lost - or, rather, perhaps she thought was never there.

Can you imagine what it would’ve been like if the game decided, out of blue, to tell the player the names of Michelle’s parents, or showed them in silhouette, and never brought it up again, because the game shut down? Can you imagine getting just that and only that and nothing else because the game didn’t make enough money to justify what was being put out on an MTX cash shop that it didn’t require?

I would be livid. I would be furious. I would be just as blue-balled from the beginning as I would’ve been toward the end, because despite the parallels Michelle doesn’t quite get the same closure that Hugo gets at Episode Final. While her backstory entertains the idea, she - given what little canon has showed us and as far as it’s considered - chooses to forego leaving the Federation behind and defecting to the Empire as he did, even if the reasons might’ve ended up differently (although I wager, if not for Grace and whatever conclusion Michelle arrived at - to get her into the mindset of - between accepting the letter and deciding on leaving for Silvayer, she would have settled on throwing her lot in with Gildlla, if not out of a desire to protect the people of Bazine, then perhaps for one where she would find purpose and value over there). However, in Hugo’s defense, he doesn’t have the question of who he is and why he is like Michelle does hanging over his head, because that wasn’t what he was introduced with from the onset. The game at least decides to answer why he chose to side with the Empire and is doing what he has to do to protect his friends and family across the border, even if that means his decision comes at the cost of inevitably coming to blows with them and potentially damaging those ties he has with them forever.

But his is an easy mystery to solve, because among all the other mysteries that linger in the background finding out why a student from Aedis betrayed the Federation and is now fighting for the Empire - the same Empire that set Anthwan on fire and razed Le Sant, his hometown, to the ground - is a rather easy question to answer. Traitors are a staple to the Tales franchise, and what would be more enticing to learn the revelations and reasonings of a marked traitor than the person that was designed to be in the role of the traitor in mind from the very beginning?

Of course, the topic of parents - and the lore behind them - are just as essential to the Tales narrative as the traitor archetype, and it’s Michelle that has that question, and many others proceeding them, that go unanswered in the end. Who are they? Where did they come from? How are her artes related to them? How important are they to the story and the Greater Scope Plot, and what is it about them that made Ollie hesitate so much he couldn’t bring himself to tell her until she told him she was going to go out into the wild and use her artes to protect herself from the beasts and monsters that would have gotten in her way?

Who knows! Because at the end of the day it’s money that makes the world go round and money is the lifeblood that flows through an IP, especially in an entry that’s made on a mobile phone. We might never get an answer to those questions that the narrative, and even Michelle herself, proposed, and with it the character arc - positive or negative - that Michelle could’ve had as a result.

#tales of luminaria #in which i rant a fucking LOT #i have THOUGHTS #and i will keep having these THOUGHTS until they get answered #like. how do you come w/ a character whose backstory is such a mystery #that when you look at her timeline the first fifteen years OF HER LIFE is a total blank slate?#you can't tell me shit didn't go down between the time she was like 5-6 up to when she's 15 going on 16 #like idk if they would've been important ppl but you just KNOW they would've been important to the plot #and those artes ARE tied into them #ESPECIALLY the wolf b/c guess what! it's the only animal in michelle's repertoire that has a primordial representing it!#and that's the oddest thing b/c what person in the federation would want to use artes that uses the beast #that represents the faction that caused the biggest tragedy in the anathema war?#i suppose you can apply the above post to a couple other families a'la leo's and edouard's. maaaybe celia's and falk and vanessa's #but it's the fact that michelle's parents are such a core component to her arc that draws me more to her than anybody else #and i couldn't tell you WHY that is. only that it does #and it's such a tragedy that we might never get more answers #b/c i think michelle would have been up there as having one of the better story and character arcs in the game #it's so unfair #to have a favorite character and just. not seeing her bloom into fruition #but it's even more unfair to pull the plug on a story and just leave it unfinished #with not a word as to whether or not it's worth continuing #all because it didn't make enough money to justify all the work that was crafted into it and putting it out there #i suppose if on the off chance story details ever got leaked i might be content #but to be completely honest i would not want to see them #b/c i didn't earn the right to see them through my own volition #anyway thanks for coming to my TED talk #i know ep final was mostly about hugo #and for good reason #but i still haven't watched it b/c it's just his third ep spliced w/ leo's and lisette's #and tbh hugo doesn't have anywhere near the hold on my heart that celia and michelle do

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harmoonix · 2 months

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🪻👑𝐆𝐨𝐝 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧👑🪻

(Astrology Observations)

👑: Aries Degrees on the Midheaven 1°, 13°, 25°...Babe you know you are born to be up there... to ascend and to be a good leader for others, to lead people on their good path

👑: Leo Degrees 5°, 17° 29° on the Midheaven (MC), you secretly wish people will give you more attention or focus more on you! Just like the royalty you are!! (Or MC in Leo)

👑: Capricorn Degrees 10°, 22° on the Midheaven (MC), you know you are that BISH!! People respect you and your ambitions!! Truly a hardworking person and very devoted (or MC in Capricorn)

👑: Midheaven (MC) with Aquarius Degrees combo 11°, 23° are true influencers, they inspire people, they invent and create new things, they give life and the first breath to everything (or MC in Aquarius)

👑: Speaking about Aquarius, Aquarius Risings have a very big potential to be influencers as well, to inspire people and to create things, what makes them different is that they have an unnatural energy that attracts people, examples: Nicki Minaj, Aaliyah, Orlando Bloom

👑: Cancer/Virgo/Scorpio/Capricorn Moons > They have an easier time to embody their emotional nature, because moon in these signs indicates deep nurturing

👑: Jupiter in Libra/Jupiter in the 7th house: Girl...I love your energy, cus I can relate to it, you definitely have an expansive energy when it comes to romantic relationships and luck

👑: Aries/Venus/Mars/Risings have that leader energy in their chart, and I rarely met people with such placements, but when I do.. they definitely strike people with this big energy

👑: Mercury in the 1st house natives omg I rarely talk about them..let's start it, I love their energy, these natives are so easy to talk with and they can easily express their emotions to the word

👑:I truly believe natives with Neptune or Uranus in the 1st house even Jupiter in the 1st house, have a spiritual path they need to follow or to connect

👑: Leo Moons/Moon in the 5th house have their own pride but they actually have a lot of things to be proud about so is not like they are dramatic about that

👑: Leo Venus/Venus in Leo Degrees 5°, 17°, 29° want to be treated as a royalty by their partners and in their romantic relationships (Sometimes Leo in the 7th house can give the same vibes)

👑: Leo in the 7th house can actually manifest as having also prideful partners but that's not 100% totally bad, some of them just may know their worth and value and that's okay

👑: Virgo in the 7th house/Mercury in the 7th house have a unique connection with their partners, especially at communication topic

👑: Virgo Mars/Mars in the 6th H need a lot of mental stimulation, they're extremely inteligent and have a sharp tongue

👑: Pisces Mars/Mars in the 12th house can manifest, the native is extremely passionate and romantic they're also creative ans often natives with those placements practice a lot of sports

👑: Taurus Risings have their Scorpio in the 7th house which makes them to attract powerful people in their life but also envious about their relationships

👑: Asteroid Destinn (6583) can have the energy similar to the north node, indicating your destiny/life path

In the 7th house - probably getting into a lots of relationships and experiencing marriage

In the 10th house - focusing on your career having a chance to get succesful in this life

In the 12th house - A truly spiritual path, this is not easy but is rewarding along the way, this indicates focusing on healing yourself

In the 4th house - This one is very confusing for me at least (because I have this placement), focusing on the family life or creating your own family/household

*I think for a better explanation try to read your destinn persona chart, I think it will be more helpful*

👑: A Retrogade planet in your chart gives you a chance to "repair" or to "finish" something you couldn't do in a past life

👑: People with lots of placements in the 3rd house can be hella attracted to cars, especially a fire or earth sign in this house

👑: Anyone out there with Vertex in the 8th house?? How you stay with your healing/sexual/rebirthing life cycle?? Like Literally 🫥🫥🫥🫥

👑: Saturn - Mars aspects = They're really ambitious when they have a plan or a strategy, + They may look harsh at first but soft/kind inside

👑: Lilith in the 9th/11th houses, these placements make Lilith to seek for freedom, so try your best to not hang around with people who can take your freedom!!

👑: South Node in the 9th house, they can either be attached or detached for religion, love - hate relationship with the religion thing, religious trauma can occur, try to be open minded as you can

👑: South Node in the 7th house, probably someone who depended a lot on others especially on their partners in a past life, you need to be more independent!!

👑: Lilith/True Lilith (h12 or h13) in the 7th house can attract mischievous partners, the partners can be intense, jealousy and even hate from other people

👑: If you have a bad day talking with someone who has Sagittarius Placements can be the best thing to do since they have the most optimistic mindset ever and a good humour

👑: Jupiter in Sagittarius or in the 9th house is truly an underatted placement, this gives you enough abundance and luck to travel over the seas and to explore more kinds of cultures

👑: Guys trust me is so so hard to figure it when you have a "love asteroid" in the 2nd house imo.. because out of all houses, the 2nd house is mostly related with money,value,food etc..I find it so hard to put things together when it comes to this house I swear 😭 (It is a house ruled by Venus but not indicating beauty or love by 100%}

👑: Pluto in the 11th house have a great status in social media, because they can be pretty powerful in that domain, also attracting people who only want to profit out of you..take care ❤️‍🩹

👑: Pluto in the 6th house don't have it easy, they're really that type of person thatno one truly knows what is going through because they don't like to share such things ❤️‍🩹

👑: Try to hang out with someone with the Moon in fire houses (1st, 5th, 9th) because they really know how to enjoy life and how to have fun

👑; A lot of mutable placements in the chart (Gemini/Sagittarius/Pisces/Virgo) shows a person who is able to change their nature and being able to change different situations

👑: Lilith in earth houses (2nd/6th/10th), Lilith can often question about her worth and value in those houses, they often have a common thing together and is that they give intimidating energy

👑: Some facts about your ascendant sign element:

Water Ascendant - You often have an approach to life that is deeply rooted in your emotional body 💙

Earth Ascendant - You have an inner force that makes you overcome any challenge during stressful and hard times 💚

Air Ascendant - You encounter everything with enthusiasm and curiosity, approaching life with love and an optimistic mindset 🤍

Fire Ascendant - Passion is vital for those natives, you have a great physical power and a great ambition 🧡

👑: Libra Moons/Moon in the 7th house - Your soul is seeking for love and romance even if you try to hide it, is the nature of your soul, and something that cannot be changed

👑: Jupiter aspecting Venus, the native is blessed with beauty and love, they are charming and chatty, in general they're pretty popular

👑: Saturn in the 7th house/Saturn in Libra - Sometimes this placement makes you to realize that is better if you don't rush with love relationships and let everything happen from fate

👑: Taurus Moons/Moon in the 2nd house should value themselves a lot and to make it a top priority!! Especially when it comes to loving yourself

👑: Jupiter aspecting Moon, these natives are full of love towards their passions and desires, Jupiter also makes the Moon to be more spiritual

👑: Moon aspecting ascendant, they have such a pure/feminine/calming energy, you can feel they're kind souls

👑: Jupiter in the 5th house/Jupiter in Leo find joy and happiness in their hobbies and things that make them happy! they're so talented!!

❤️🪻 Happy Women's Day!! To all women. To every girl, princess, queen!! To your mom aswell🪻❤️ 8th of March is a very beautiful day to celebrate ❤️🪻 be all blessed in this beautiful day!

#astrology #birth chart #astro observations #astrology observations #astro notes #placements #astro community #horoscope #ascendant #astroblog #astro seek #astro com #women's day

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lovelyhan · 2 months

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— melting point ⟢

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

★ FEATURING; secretary!wonwoo x afab!oc

★ WORD COUNT; 12.3k words

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

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

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

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

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

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

Most of the time.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ah. Her father’s interests.

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

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

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

But Emma’s grudges hold steadfast, still.

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

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

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

No, this man really was rotten to the core.

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

Or should I say, wifey? ;)

“Send this back to him. Now.”

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

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

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

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

No. It was really something as simple as—

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

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

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

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

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

“We’re a team.”

But it wasn’t always that way.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Something worse.

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

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

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

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

But he never did.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

God. Was this her exacting retribution?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“...Why?”

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

He was too much of a coward to do so.

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

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

“I want revenge.”

And that’s how their little team was formed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Like hell she was going to watch it.

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

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

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

Gavin’s downfall followed soon after.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“A drug den?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Positive.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Miss Emma? Are you sleepy?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Then sleep next to me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She was already fast asleep.

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

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

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

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

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

Which was, admittedly…strange.

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

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

He must be going insane.

“Wonwoo…?”

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

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

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

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

Two days?

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

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

“When are we going to start with Leo?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I…? Sorry, ma’am. I don’t follow.”

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

Another person to drag down to hell.

“Is that good enough for you?”

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

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

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

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

“But—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Even you?”

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

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

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

Wonwoo didn’t dare think twice.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You, he wanted to tell her. You happened.

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

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

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

“More.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He was her secretary, and she was his employer.

That was all there was to it.

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

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

A video that Wonwoo has already seen before.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Their behind-the-scenes mission has been fulfilled.

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

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

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

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

…Huh?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Where is she?”

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

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

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

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

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

Can’t you just let me in?

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

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

But why did she feel so fucking depressed about it?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Kiss him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yes. Fuck, yes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He didn’t have to be told twice.

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

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

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

No, it was just Emma.

His Emma.

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

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

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

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

“I fell in love with you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

From: Wonwoo Jeon

Subject: NOT-SO CLASSIFIED

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

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

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

Regards,

Wonwoo Jeon

Secretary, Finance and Logistics Department

PLEDIS Insurance

Your boyfriend :)

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

#svthub #seventeen smut #wonwoo smut #seventeen fanfic #wonwoo fanfic #lovelyhan #full-length fic 📚#wonwoo x oc #wonwoo x reader

1K notes · View notes

risestarkiss · 3 months

Text

The “Ba” in “Baja”

Rise Ramblings #628

Mikey and Leo. Baja Blast. The Tide Pod Duo. Although this duo has limited dedicated screen time, they are an absolute joy to watch. First and foremost, you can’t help but notice how Leo does nothing but try to protect the little bean.

He’ll bend over backwards just to keep his baby brother safe.

Leo will also offer emotional support in very dire times.

It’s just so nice to see them together. Plus, you can tell that Leo loves Mikey to pieces.

Even when Leo’s being annoying.

All of these traits are expected from big brother Leo. However, it’s the other side of this relationship that I find intriguing.

Let’s discuss Mikey and how he interacts with the blue one.

I’ve summarized my thoughts about Mikey’s half of their relationship into two parts: “Emulate” & “Outdo.”

As the youngest of the four, it’s natural for Michelangelo to look up to his older brothers. Yet, throughout the show, I believe that Mikey seems to emulate Leo the most.

This thought leads directly into the “Outdo” portion of my hypothesis.

I've noticed that a competitive streak emerges in Mikey when Leo is in the picture, a streak that I cannot say I’ve seen him express with any of his other brothers, April, or even their rivals. It’s unique just to Leo.

It’s almost as if there is some driving force within Mikey that wants to prove something to Leon.

When it comes to Leo, Mikey is suddenly determined to see who’s the strongest, best, or fastest between them.

(I compiled all of the Air Hockey scenes from the episode, “Mrs. Cuddles”)

The most compelling aspect of their relationship is that this competitive streak seems to be one-sided, at least initially. It's almost as if Leo feels like he doesn't have to prove anything to Angelo.

Eventually, though, Mikey goads Leo into competing with him, and Leo gives in if not but to defend his title, satiate Orange, and give his antagonizer what he’s looking for. (It’s a “you mess with the bull, you get the horns” type of thing.)

Why does this dynamic exist? Who’s to say. But I believe that the dissonance between these two comes from Leo seeing their relationship as “Protector – Protectee” while Mikey sees Leo as a rival, or more specifically, Leo is the goalpost that Michelangelo has tasked himself with surpassing.

In my opinion, the concept of Mikey seeing Leo’s accomplishments as something he needs to “Emulate” & “Outdo” is a compliment in it’s simplest form. Mikey thinks that Leo is so great and awesome that he wants to be just as awesome, and even better than the brother he respects and looks up to so much.

…Or maybe Mikey just wants to knock Leo down a peg or two.

I can’t say that I’d blame him.

Also, do you know why Mikey is the “Ba” in “Baja?”

Because Leo is the "Jajajajajajaja" *laughs in Spanish*

All right. I’m done.

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pumpkinbxtch · 3 days

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Hii, can you do a Leo Valdez x Reader one-shot about the reader getting deaf or half-deaf? Like when he discovers, or even hcs😭. I'm asking this because I got half-deaf last year and there's ZERO content about that with pjo characters. It's okay if you don't want to do it or feel uncomfortable❤️❤️❤️

ᝰ.ᐟ leo valdez x half-deaf!reader headcanons

☆ radiostar is playin': on melancholy hill by gorillaz

warnings: none!

a/n: hi! i read your two posts and saw that you finally leaned towards headcanons. don't worry, it's okay, baby. Anyway! i have some experience in this because i had a classmate who was also half-deaf so here we go. If i make any mistakes, please let me know, okay? thank you for putting your trust in me. i hope you are very well.

— kisses from the hypothetical planet vulcan. 🧡

∘⁠˚⁠˳⁠°

he was like boom in love and love pushes you to do things you never thought of doing, right?

At first, he's scared of messing things up with you, as if him being clumsy in love wasn't enough. He didn't want to offend you in any way, so he practically searched every corner of the library. You got him to read! And this fool never reads because it's hard for him, but there he was, researching about the topic.

He's definitely the type who always tries to help because he knows it can be tough sometimes, so when you have to go out in public, he makes sure to hold your hand tightly and NEVER let go.

He always positions himself on the good ear side so you can hear him better, and he gets even closer to you if there's too much noise around.

When he arrives somewhere and you don't see him immediately, he tries to make it noticeable that someone else has arrived, so he doesn't startle you.

But this guy is sometimes a teaser, and when you both reach that level of trust, he'll say things from afar knowing you won't hear well, but only because what he's saying is embarrassing

"I love you, I'm going to marry you, and I'm warning you from now on," he says from the entrance, and you deal with just seeing his lips move and hearing halfway.

You squint and shout, "What?!" and he laughs, so you show him the middle finger. "Idiot, you know I can't hear you."

Leo rushes towards you, and after giving you a kiss on the cheek, he whispers gently in your ear: "i'm sayin that one day your last name will be Valdez," and well, you end up as red as the forges he works in.

If you're the one who enters while he's working in the bunker or wherever he is, he immediately puts down the tools and gives you his full attention. This is also because he wants to make sure there are no loud noises when you're around. Sometimes you tell him it's not necessary for him to stop, but he does it anyway.

Although, if you insist, he'll look for the ear protectors he bought/made for you and ask you to wear them because he wants to keep you safe. Both of you might be wearing them, and even though he's working with dangerous, heavy materials, he can't help but steal glances with that loving gaze of his. Because oh gods, he fell so hard for you.

Even when both are alone, to talk to you, he gets close to the point where your foreheads are touching and gazes fixed on each other. You tell him he can back off a bit, and he shakes his head while giving you a kiss on the nose. "I know, but I still want to be close to you."

When there's not much noise on the street that could be dangerous, he chooses to walk with you arm in arm, continuing to tell you things and talk nonsense that makes you laugh.

Leo doesn't like going to hospitals much, but if he has to accompany you to your regular check-ups, he will, or he'll tell you that Will Solace is a very good doctor.

He whispers sweet nothings in your ear every night, to let you know he loves you.

Here comes a huge confession from Leo Valdez, he's definitely working on a device that could help you. With the help of the Apollo cabin, he thinks he could pull it off, and he's just refining it every day to improve your life because he simply wants the best for you. Even if he ultimately has to scrap it, he'll look for other types of gadgets he can create to help you.

Although he knows you can manage, Leo feels good and proud to be able to help the person he loves. You're the one who made him explore that part of himself where he looks out for your emotional and physical well-being.

#maría's shared dreams☆｡ﾟ✧#leo valdez #leo valdez x y/n #leo valdez x you #leo valdez x reader #pjo hoo toa #heroes of olympus #pjo #hoo x reader #riordanverse #leo valdez headcanons #leo valdez fanfic

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scuderiahoney · 2 months

Text

Color Theory

Oscar Piastri x artist!reader

Masterlist

Summary: Oscar’s an old friend of yours. This time when he comes home to visit, things get messy. Word Count: 6.6k

Warnings: alcohol, mild drug use, sexual content 18+ MDNI, overuse of color descriptions

It’s summer in Australia, your favorite time of year despite the overbearing sun and the overwhelming heat. Sweat spikes on your brow, but the sunlight that pours through the windows makes you happy. The door to the back garden is open, the smell of wildflowers blowing in with the breeze. You can hear your roommates chattering in the other room. You hold a paint palette in one hand, a brush in the other. There’s something just slightly off about this piece, some part of the light you’re not capturing quite right. You step back from the painting, trying to get a better view of the whole picture.

Someone calls your name from inside. You ignore them. By the third time you hear your name, you give in, setting the palette and brush down and heading inside. You’re still wearing your apron, covered in paint marks.

Lizzy, one of your roommates, smiles at you. “How’s it going?”

You sigh heavily. “Can’t get the light right.”

She nods in understanding. “We’re ordering pizza. Oscar’s on his way. Thought I’d give you a heads up in case you decide to try painting in your underwear again.”

You laugh. “It was one time,” you say defensively. “It was hot out and I was trying to become-“

“-one with the art, I know, I know,” she teases. “Just giving you a warning!”

You lean on the counter and let out a long breath. “It’s gonna be weird, isn’t it? Him being here?”

Oscar’s an old friend of yours, and your roommates, too. Old, like preteens old. He left for the UK so long ago that you’d probably barely remember what he looked like if it weren’t for video calls and social media and now, his face being plastered everywhere. You’ve kept up, have stayed friends through it all. But it’s the first time you’ll be seeing him in person in over a year, the first time he’s ever going to visit your shared house, the first time since… since he became Oscar Piastri and not just Oscar.

Lizzy shrugs. “Only weird if we make it weird, right?”

She’s right, to a certain extent. Your other roommate, Leo, shows up with Oscar in tow, and you do your best to not be weird about it, and you think it works. He greets you and Lizzy with long hugs. He smells like sea salt and something warm. His body’s much more firm and filled out than he was the last time you saw him, which makes sense, you suppose. He still smiles like golden yellow sunshine, though, crinkled eyes and round cheeks and that near permanent blush on his face.

The pizza arrives shortly after he does, and you all settle into the living room to catch up. Oscar tells stories about racing, about his first year in F1, about his teammate and his competitors. You’ve been keeping up with the races more than you ever did before- Leo always wanted to watch but you hadn’t cared that much before it was Oscar, before the guy in the orange car was the same kid who used to finger paint with you in the backyard, your mother worried about the mess. Now you sit glued to the TV most Sundays.

In turn, you, Lizzy, and Leo update Oscar on what he’s missed. All about your family lives, your jobs, your other friends he’s lost touch with. He listens intently to each story, the way he always has.

“What are you doing for work?” He asks, nudging your knee.

You sigh dejectedly. “Nothing fun.”

He pouts. Leo elbows you and speaks up, though.

“She’s still painting, though,” he says brightly. “You should see the sunroom.”

Oscar’s face lights up. “Is that your studio? You always said you wanted a sunroom.”

He’s always been one of your biggest supporters when it comes to your art. He’s the one who’d join you in the art room at lunchtime in school, eating his lunch at one of the counters while you worked on your latest piece, unable to put the paintbrush down. He’d attended all your art shows, had bought you paints and brushes and sketchbooks for birthdays and Christmases, and had even posed for a portrait you’d been required to paint for class. He’d had a hard time sitting still for that long without falling asleep.

You nod with a smile growing on your face. “Living the dream with that one.”

The night slips away from all of you, caught up in conversations about everything under the sun. You find yourself feeling sad when Oscar goes to leave. He does it with hugs and a promise to be back in a few days. When he leaves through the front door, you feel that emptiness again, that hole that’s never healed quite right after he left.

Lizzy sees it on your face and squeezes your shoulder. “He’ll be back.”

Two days later, you’re deep in painting mode, eyes beginning to ache as you stare at the canvas in front of you, when there’s a noise from the sunroom doorway. You turn and find Oscar standing there, eyes wide, brows raised. He chews on his lip sheepishly.

“Sorry,” he says, quietly. You hold back a laugh. “Leo said to come over and just let myself in, and I heard a noise, and- sorry-“

“It’s okay,” you reassure him, tilting your head and smiling. “Leo should’ve told you, he ran to the store for drinks.”

Oscar rolls his eyes, and his shoulders drop. “Right.”

“You’re welcome to hang out, though,” you say, nodding at the chair off to the side in the sunroom. “Don’t want you getting bored all by yourself.”

He hesitated. “I don’t want to be a bother.”

He never would have questioned it before. He would’ve already been sitting, would’ve already known what you were painting, would’ve helped you get your palette set up. It’s different now. He’s been gone a while.

You jut your chin towards the chair again and wave a paintbrush in that direction. “Please. You’ve never been a bother.”

He was always the only one of your friends that you allowed to watch you paint. He knew when to stay quiet, and when you needed the background noise of his voice, without ever having to ask. He shuffles over to the chair and sits down. Oscar’s gaze dances through the room with wide eyes, and when you turn back to the canvas, you can feel him watching intently.

“What do you think?” You ask, just to break the silence. You gesture at the paintings lined up around the room. “Have my skills improved?”

He lets out a slow breath. “They’re amazing,” he says, and your heart twists in your chest. “I’m so glad you kept up on it. That you didn’t lose your… you know. Passion. Sounds cheesy, but I mean it.”

You nod. Most of your friends and family had spent your teenage years trying to convince you to learn any skill other than art. You’d continued pouring yourself into the paintings. Oscar had been one of your only cheerleaders through it all.

“It’s not easy,” you admit. “Bills and shit, you know? Real adult stuff. But I’ve been trying to get into some galleries recently. I don’t know if it’ll ever be something I can make a living off of, but I’ve gotta try.”

Oscar nods in understanding. “How about when I win my first championship, I’ll make good on my promise?”

You laugh. There’d been a night just before he’d left for the UK where the two of you had stayed up late, out far past curfew at the local park. You’d laid under a tree next to him, giddy on the high of breaking the rules and the late hour. He’d told you all about his big dreams. About F1 and championships and how he was going to make it big. And when you’d asked if he’d remember you, he’d smiled and turned his head towards you, eyes wide in the pale moonlight, nose nearly touching yours.

“I’ll use my money and open a gallery,” he’d promised. “And I’ll fill it with all of your paintings.”

You’d rolled your eyes. “Even the bad ones?”

He’d nodded, so seriously. “Especially the bad ones.”

Now he sits next to you in your makeshift studio, so close to reaching his dreams. You can only hope you’ll get there, too, someday.

There’s a party at your house that night. There’ll be more people there than usual, wanting to talk with Oscar and taking up his time. But for now there’s just you and him in the studio you’ve always wanted, the one you talked about under the tree in the park. You’ll take what you can get.

Oscar finds you later at the party, in the back corner of the backyard. The sun is nearly gone, the last bits of daylight slipping away. When he walks up, you’re leaning back in an outdoor armchair, and you smile hazily up at him and hold out the joint you’d been smoking.

He shakes his head. You pout.

“I get drug tested,” he says, and you suppose that’s understandable. “And I think my trainer would kill me over the lung damage.”

“It’s just once,” you friend says next to you, “can’t do that much damage.”

“Oscar’s a high performance athlete,” you tease.

Someone finishes the infamous Daniel Ricciardo quote for you, complete with the sound effects. You’re not really listening, more focused on how Oscar rolls his eyes as he sits down on the arm of the chair. You tilt your head to look up at him.

The late sun is hitting the bridge of his nose, a bright orange band against his freckled skin. He blinks at you with thick lashes, and you wonder how you’d capture the look on his face with paint- the softness of his cheeks, the care that sits heavy on his browbone, the restlessness in the curve of his mouth. You don’t like to do portraits- Oscar’s one of few people you’ve painted, but it was years ago. He was a skinny kid with a bad haircut. Now his jawline is chiseled and sharp, and his hair falls over his forehead in a soft swoop. He's pretty.

He cocks his head at you. You’ve been staring too long. You force a giggle and nudge his knee. He laughs right back.

You’re not sure how he ends up squished into the chair with you, his arm over your shoulder, his bare thigh pressed to yours. You think maybe it was your doing- you grabbed his arm, pulled him until he sunk in next to you. The sun is gone, now, the evening chill taking over, and it’s nice to have him next to you, keeping you warm. His cheek is pressed to the top of your head.

“You can go, you know,” you say quietly. Most of your friends have abandoned the corner you’re in, moving to the lit back deck, or the firepit area. You and Oscar have stayed put, though.

“D’you want me to go?” He asks.

You shake your head. He laughs. “I just don’t wanna take up all your time,” you say with a shrug.

His fingers play with the ends of your hair. “I’m right where I want to be.”

You curl in closer to him. You’re right where you want to be, too.

Eventually, the two of you rejoin the group. He stays glued to your side most of the night, though. His shoulder presses against yours, and in turn, you lean against him. He grows quieter as the night goes on. That’s when you remember that his time spent with you while you were painting wasn’t just for your benefit. He’d been a quiet kid- popular, but easily exhausted by socializing. He’d liked the solitude and comfort of the art room nearly as much as you had.

In the backyard full of your old friends, he seems content to stay stuck on you. When he shoves his hands in the pocket of his hoodie, you wiggle one of yours in alongside his, hoping you’re not crossing a line. Or maybe, really, you’re hoping it’s a line he wants you to cross. When he knits your fingers together, you sigh happily.

People leave one by one, with hugs for Oscar and promises to watch the next season. He says goodbye to them and then returns quickly to your side. Soon enough, Lizzy shuffles off to bed, and then Leo stretches and does the same, and it’s just you and Oscar. You hide a yawn. You don’t want to go to bed, not yet.

He squeezes your shoulder, his arm around your back, now. He has his cheek pressed against your temple. For a moment, you wonder if you could stay stuck to him long enough to keep him here. If eventually, the two of you would fuse together. That’s probably just your wavering high speaking. He mumbles something into the side of your head. You break from your staring at the coals and make a noise of confusion.

“Missed you,” he says. “Sorry I haven’t…”

This feels like too heavy a conversation to have now, when things have felt so good and warm all night. You know it’s coming at some point, but you’ll avoid it all costs. You turn further into him and wrap an arm around his middle, and let your eyes fall closed.

“I missed you too,” you say, rubbing your thumb against his rib cage through his sweatshirt.

The two of you sit quietly for a few moments. Then, you say, “you know, I still have that portrait I did of you. How many races d’you think you need to win before I can make some money off that?”

He laughs into your hair. His hand has fallen to your side now, and he squeezes- you nearly gasp at the feeling. “I was a scrawny baby in that painting. Nobody wants to buy that.”

You giggle against him. “You were a cute scrawny baby, though.”

It’s not something you would have said all those years ago. You’d have never been caught dead admitting that you thought he was cute. But now… in the safety of the backyard, in the darkness, pressed against his side…

“You’re cuter now, though,” you say.

“Yeah?” He asks.

You nod confidently. He slips his other hand from his pocket. It comes up to hold your jaw, gently. You hold your breath. He tilts your face up towards his.

“You’re prettier than ever,” he says, softly. “And I thought you reached the limit a long time ago.”

His lips are on yours within seconds, then. It’s not the first time he’s kissed you. By now, you know it probably won’t be the last. You let it happen, opening up for him. You slip your tongue past the warmth of his lips. His hand cups the side of your face as that warm feeling melts across your skin, the one that only he brings. You’ve been searching for a replacement since the last time this happened. Nothing comes close.

He uses the arm around you to pull you into his lap. You reach up and thread your fingers into his shirt, something to anchor you in the swirling feeling of him on and around and against you again. His hands fall to your hips, trying to do the same. He kisses like Australian summers, hot and long and sunny and bright orange. His touch leaves sparks behind everywhere he goes.

When you finally break away for air, his hair is a mess, and your lips feel puffy. He grins sheepishly at you. You chew on your lower lip as he brushes a finger over the arch of your cheek.

“Sorry,” he says. Always apologizing. You know he’s not sorry for kissing you. He’s sorry for how this will eventually end.

“Don’t be,” you say, quietly. “Please. Let’s just…”

He nods, then swallows before he says, “okay.”

Then he kisses your cheek, your jaw, your temple. You giggle at the feeling and let your fingertips dance against his face and neck. He muffles another laugh into your skin.

“Missed you,” you say again.

“I missed you too,” he says.

He walks you inside. You think about inviting him to stay the night, but you think that might be a bad idea. Instead, you give him a hug and watch him walk out the front door, into the only black and blue night.

…..

You meet up with him and a few other friends at a bar a couple nights later. You walk over from your house with Lizzy, who either doesn’t notice your nervous energy, or is nice enough to just not mention it. You shouldn’t be nervous. It’s the people you’ve known for years, and it’s just Oscar. There’s no reason to be nervous.

Except for the still fading hickey he left on your neck, covered by strategically placed hair, and the way you feel his lips on your every time you close your eyes. Yeah. There’s that, sure.

The bar is crowded even before all of your friends arrive. Oscar comes in with Leo, having been out all day while you and Lizzy had to work. There are at least five people there who are acting like they haven’t seen Oscar in years, even though they were all at the party a few nights ago. You try your best to hide your jealousy. He has other friends. He probably likes them way more than he likes you, anyways.

He finds you later, standing at the bar, waiting to order a drink. He’s just- there, all of the sudden, warm shoulder pressed to yours, elbows on the countertop. He smiles softly at you when you turn to him, and he leans into you.

“Hi,” he says. “I was looking for you.”

You want to laugh, because surely he wasn’t, but- there’s something so serious in his eyes. You lean into him in response, just to watch him raise his brows and smile wider. There’s a little mole on the swell of his cheek. You want to reach out and touch it. You refrain.

“I’m here,” you finally say, nodding towards your crowd of friends in the corner. “You’ve been a busy man tonight.”

He sighs, heavily, like it’s been difficult for him. It probably has been. He’s a quiet person in general. Not one to really like being the center of attention. You wonder if he’s exhausted as easily by it now as he was before, or if his years of podium celebrations have dulled the sensation a bit. Wonder how much of your Oscar is still left, under the facade.

He chews on his lower lip lightly, and you smile softly. That’s an old habit. That’s one you recognize. You also think of the night by the firepit, how you’d pulled that same lip between your own teeth, and the noise he’d made in response. Your face grows warm.

The bartender finally turns to you. Oscar orders for both of you, because of course he knows what you’re drinking. Then you follow him back to the crowd of your friends. When he grabs your hand to pull you along, you don’t complain. You just squeeze his fingers in response.

You stumble out of the bar with him, hand in hand, hours later. He’s insistent on walking you and Lizzy home, claiming that Leo won’t be enough to keep an eye on the both of you. You’re just happy to have his fingers locked with yours, to have his shoulder brushing against you as you both sway down the sidewalk. It’s comfortably warm outside, and you hum to yourself as you walk, listening to Lizzy and Leo arguing about nothing important.

Your journey home is stopped by Oscar, who stops in his tracks suddenly. You turn back to look at him. He’s staring across the street, where there’s a neon sign lit up in the window, the word Pizza flashing like a beacon. You laugh as he tugs on your hand.

“No, come on, we’re going home,” Lizzy calls out.

“I want pizza,” Oscar says in response, deadpan.

You turn to your roommates and shrug. “He wants pizza.”

Lizzy sighs. “I want to go home.”

“You guys go,” Oscar says with a dismissive wave. “I’ll make sure she gets home safe.”

Less than ten minutes later, your legs are stuck to the vinyl of the pizza parlor booth, knee bumping Oscar’s underneath the table. There’s a pepperoni pizza between the two of you, far too much for you to actually finish.

“Yknow,” he says, waving a piece of pizza around in the air. “Logan dips his pizza in ranch.”

You laugh at the disgusted look on Oscar’s face, at the way he says ranch. You take a sip of the soda he insisted on buying for you, along with the food.

“Bet it’s good,” you admit, shrugging.

Oscar wrinkles his nose. “I’m not a picky eater, but… isn’t pizza good enough on its own?”

You shrug, pretending to think deeply about it. Except that Oscar knows you well enough to know you’re pretending, so he starts laughing. And then you follow suit, doubled over in the booth, grease from the pizza on your fingertips.

As his laughter fades, he presses his knee against yours. It feels deliberate.

“Fuck, I’ve missed you,” he says.

Something twists in your chest. “Missed you, too, Osc.”

Your friendship goes through cycles. When he’s here, it’s almost like nothing has changed. But when he’s gone… the two of you aren’t good at long distance friendship. Or maybe, really, you’re better at it than most. You can go months without talking and pick up like nothing has changed. The tough part comes when he’s here, within reach, and then he leaves. That’s the moment you dread, the part you don’t handle well. It would probably be easier if you stopped kissing him every time he came home. But you look across the table, and his lips are soft and cherry pink and slightly shiny from the pizza, and you know that would be impossible.

“I’ve missed you too,” you say, because you know he needs to hear it even if he already knows it. “I was worried that maybe now that you’re in F1, you’d gotten too important for… us.”

You really mean me, but it feels a bit too much to say out loud. You think he knows, anyways. He reaches a hand across the table, lays it over top of yours. There’s a sad smile on his face.

“I could never,” he says, eyes drilling right into yours. “Promise.”

He walks you home, hand in hand. The front porch light is on, probably Lizzie’s doing. He insists on coming all the way up to the front door, which is sweet and does absolutely awful things to your brain. Because he’s right there, his hand in yours, and you’re fumbling for your house key in your purse, but really you’re thinking about kissing him. When his fingers squeeze yours, you give up on the key and turn to him.

He knows it’s coming, you think. When you cup his face in your hand, he’s already leaning in.

The kiss is softer, messier, than the other night. You’re both still a little tipsy. But it’s less frantic, more comfortable. His other hand falls to your hip, and you lean back against the front door to your house and melt into him. He presses against you, warm, firm muscle against every curve of your body. You don’t want this to end. You want to wrap your arms around his neck and beg him to stay right here, to never leave, to come back to you.

He pulls away first. You try to kiss him again, hands tugging at his hips as he pants through reddened lips.

“You’re drunk,” he mumbles.

You shake your head no. “Not that drunk.”

He leans in close and kisses your cheek. “This is a bad idea.”

That makes your gut twist, makes your chest hurt. You roll your eyes and turn away so he won’t see the way your tears well up. He’s right, you know, but it hurts to hear it.

“I care about you. A lot,” he says, quietly. “And I… if things were different…”

“I know,” you say, because you do know. “Yeah. Bad idea. You should go.”

You leave him standing on the porch and disappear inside the house. When you lay down in bed, you lay awake for hours, swirls of color dancing behind your eyelids.

…..

The next night, you find yourself in your studio, alone. There’s paint on the canvas in front of you- not the good stuff you’d normally use, but the cheap kind you keep on hand for moments like these. Children’s finger paint, runny and thin and non-toxic. It’s running down the palette and dripping down your wrist. You’re in a pair of shorts and a sports bra, and frankly, you’d probably be wearing less if you didn’t know your roommates were due home eventually.

Oscar’s leaving tomorrow morning. At this point, the last you’ll see of him for a while will be when you left him on the porch. You swipe a bit of blue on the canvas. You’re not really painting anything, just trying to put color to the feelings. He’s leaving and he’ll be gone for a while again, and things are weird again, because he kissed you and then you kissed him and now he has to leave. You add a swipe of orange. Papaya, you think, gritting your teeth.

You wonder if things really would’ve been different. If he’d stayed, would you be together? Would he love you the way you want him to? Maybe. Or maybe, no matter the universe, this is how it ends. Maybe there’s always a bigger dream waiting. Maybe you’re not enough for him.

There’s a knock on the door. There’s red paint on your fingertips.

“Busy,” you call out.

Someone sighs. You freeze, hand halfway to the canvas. It doesn’t sound like Lizzy or Leo.

“It’s me,” Oscar says. “Can I come in?”

You huff. “Sure.”

He opens the door and blinks owlishly at the sight of you. You know you probably look crazy. He steps into the room and shuts the door behind him. The silence is deafening. Paint runs off the palette and onto your leg.

“Rough day?” He asks, because he knows.

You laugh bitterly. “You could say that, yeah.”

“I’m-“

“Don’t apologize,” you say with a sigh. “I’m not sorry.”

“No?”

“No,” you say. “I’m just… frustrated.”

Frustrated that he gets to live out his dream while you wither away in the hot Australian sun, waiting for your chance. Frustrated that every time he comes back it sends you into a tailspin. Frustrated that he’s leaving again. Frustrated with yourself for kissing him, frustrated that you want to do it again.

He crosses the room and stands next to you. You watch his shaky fingers drag through the mess on the palette. Then he reaches out and drags them through the mess on the canvas. He’s the only one you’d let do that, the only one who’d be brave enough to even try.

You follow suit, dip a finger in the yellow and smear it in a line over the canvas. Oscar’s finger falls to your wrist, scoops the bright blue from your skin and draws a squiggle with it. Cadmium Yellow and Phthalo Blue mix on the canvas and turn into envy green. Oscar dips his hand into the Cobalt Violet and draws a line of it up your arm like a bruise. You laugh and pick up the Ultramarine Blue to match the empty feeling in your chest. It leaves behind rivers on his cheeks when you hold his face in your hand and kiss him. Gently, first, and then with all the color you can muster up. You drop the palette on the floor. It splatters everywhere.

You wonder how you’d go about painting this. Red for the brush of his tongue, the bite of his teeth against your neck. Blue for the way his fingers dig into your hips. Bright pink for the way he moans into your mouth, breathy and broken and oh-so-lovely. The way you drop to your knees is lavender purple. The feeling of him heavy on your tongue, the way he sighs over it, is sunflower yellow.

He gets paint in your hair when he pulls you off of him, and then he sinks to his knees with you. You think about suggesting the couch, but then he’s pulling you all the way down onto the floor and you can’t bring yourself to protest. He cleans the paint from his hands first, always a gentleman. Then his fingers slip into you in a rush of an orangey-yellow feeling, one that turns more and more pink with each press of his hand, each swipe of his thumb against your clit. And when he finally presses his cock into you, it’s the brightest burst of sky blue behind your eyelids.

The colors melt together in your mind. You’d never be able to put this onto a canvas- not the way he breathes so heavy in your ear, the way his fingers drag against your skin, the way you shake as you clench around him and he spills himself inside of you. There’s no way you’d get the color right.

You drag him upstairs afterwards, both of you giggling, and you gasp when you hear the front door open just as you pull him into your bedroom. You head for the attached bathroom first, drag him under the hot spray of water and watch the rainbow mix into brown and wash away down the drain. There’s paint crusted in his hair and yours- you do your best to scrub it out as he leans heavily against you.

You don’t even bother asking if he wants to stay. You just drag him to the bed and toss him a t-shirt and pair of sweatpants you think are Leo’s. He doesn’t question it. You can hear your roommates downstairs talking. You wonder if they know.

Oscar flops onto the bed and reaches for you, tugging at the hem of the oversized t-shirt you’re wearing. You go easily, willingly, eagerly. He wraps you up in his arms and presses his face into your neck.

“I…” he starts, then cuts himself off.

“I know,” you murmur, because you do. “Me too.”

I love you. I wish it was different. I would stay if I could. I’ll miss you.

You wake up in the morning to his lips against your cheek. You drag yourself out of bed to walk him to the door. Your chest aches, and the feeling is a color that you can’t quite put your finger on. Someone’s there to pick him up and take him to the airport, take him far away for a long time.

He kisses you on the forehead and squeezes your shoulder. “I’ll see you soon,” he promises.

You nod and lean up to kiss his cheek. “Yeah. See you soon.”

The ache he leaves behind is a muddy mix of all your favorite colors.

…..

Six months later, you stand in an art gallery full of people. Your paintings hang on the wall nearby. You sip your drink and try to pretend like you’re not waiting and watching their every little reaction. Like you’re not searching for validation in the faces of strangers.

It’s strange to have these paintings hung up for everyone to see. When others look at them, they see pretty landscapes or flowers or a simple still life. They don’t know the meaning of it all.

You step away to grab another drink, something to quell the anxiety rising in your chest. When you come back, the one person who might just see through the facade is standing there, staring, wide eyed.

You swallow tightly and walk up next to him, and let your shoulder bump into his. “You made it.”

Oscar’s eyes stay trained on the paintings, but he leans into you. “Of course I made it.”

You want to tell him that there’s no of course here, that you’d invited him without really expecting him to show up. You keep your mouth shut though. It doesn’t matter. What does matter is that he is here.

“What do you think?” You ask, quietly.

The truth is, of all the people in the gallery, his opinion is the one that matters most. You wonder what he sees when he looks at the canvases. Does he see the rays of sunlight on a table for what they truly are- a poor recreation of the sun on his skin? Does he realize that the deep purple of the plums in the still life matches the bruise on your knee that lasted for weeks after that night in the studio, the one you’d press your thumb into when your heart ached? There’s the painting of the orange lilies, color matched to the papaya of his car and race suit. There’s a painting of an empty table setting, a painting of a wide open blue sky over the backyard, and most telling of all, there’s the fabric study of his t-shirt, left behind, draped over the chair in the studio.

The collection is the closest thing to a portrait that you’ve done in years, even though there are no people in it. It’s the closest thing to a self portrait that you’ve ever done. Does he know?

His hand brushes against your elbow. He points at the empty plate on the empty table. “That’s how leaving felt for me, too, you know.”

You could cry, just knowing he understands. Instead, you nod and lean into him. You have people to talk to, art critics to impress and studio owners to try to convince, but the truth is that Oscar will always be the only one who truly understands. You stay with him for just a moment longer.

He stays the whole time, even as people begin to leave and the catering staff starts clearing the tables of food and drinks. You find him after you’ve had the last of your conversations with the important people. He’s standing near the door, looking only slightly out of place, scrolling on his phone.

“You didn’t have to stay the whole time,” you say.

He shrugs and smiles. “I know. I wanted to. There’s a pub down the street, it’s one of my favorites. D’you have time for a drink?”

You nod and pout. “Maybe some food too? M’starving.”

He nods eagerly in agreement. He leads you out of the gallery, holds the door for you and everything. The cool London night air hits you like a blast as you step outside.

Right. You’re not in Australia.

It’s a strange feeling, being here with Oscar- his chosen home for all these years, and yet it’s the first time you’re seeing it with him. He reaches for your hand on the sidewalk and tucks it into his jacket pocket, right alongside his. The pub isn’t far- when you get there, it’s crowded and warm, and he helps you slip your jacket off your shoulders. You smile at him in thanks. When he smiles back, your heart skips a beat.

Ten minutes later, you’re at the bar, beers in front of each of you and a pile of chips between the two of you. Your knee is pressed against his under the countertop. He’s smiling at you, his face lit up golden yellow in the inky gray light of the bar.

“So. What did you really think?” You ask, leaning towards him.

He shakes his head, almost disbelievingly. “The same thing I always think. Your paintings are amazing. It was like I could feel it, you know? Like I’m staring at, I dunno, fucking plums, but feeling something completely different.”

You nod, chest feeling tight. You’re unsure of what to even say. How to explain to him that maybe he’s the only one who feels that, because all the paintings are about him. You think of the portrait you did all those years ago, sitting in your storage, and how it doesn’t even begin to do him justice.

“How much?” He asks, and you blink widely. “I wanna buy them. I want- yeah.” He has this dreamy, hazy look on his face. “Can I buy them? Or even just one-“

“Osc,” you murmur. You reach out and press your hand over his on the countertop. “You don’t have to do that.”

He tilts his head at you, and when he speaks, his voice is almost raw. “I meant what I said, you know. The plate. That’s how I’ve felt. All of the art, it’s… you know.”

“I know,” you say. “But they’re not for sale.”

He deflates. You squeeze his hand and try not to grin too widely. “Right,” he says. “No, of course, sorry. Just thought it might be cool to have some of them in my apartment. We could get prints made, right?”

“Sure. “ you pause and take a deep breath. “The gallery wants to extend them,” you say, and his face lights up again. “The curator spoke to me after the show. She wants to keep them up for a few months.”

“That’s amazing,” he gushes, leaning over and pulling you into a hug so tight it almost topples you off the barstool. “Oh, wow, baby, that’s- and I could go see them, then, even when you’re gone?”

You laugh against his chest. “Yeah. Sure. Or, um…”

He freezes, the hand that had been sweeping up your back stuck in place. He’s holding his breath. You might be too.

“They offered me an artist’s residency,” you blurt out. “They want me to come stay for six months, maybe longer if it goes well. Work out of their studio, show art, teach some classes.”

Oscar’s voice is breathy and high pitched when he says, “here?”

You nod against his chest. “I mean. I’d have to find an apartment. And move all my stuff. And probably break Leo and Lizzy’s hearts.”

“But you’d be here,” he says. “Here, like… it took me twenty minutes to get here tonight. And you’d- this is what you’ve dreamed of, isn’t it?”

You nod, eyes burning with tears. “Would that be okay?”

Oscar laughs- you feel it more than hear it, in the shake of his shoulders and the rumble in his chest. “Yeah. I could live with that, I think.”

He kisses you in the bar, nearly pulls you off the stool with the force of it. You kiss him right back, bracing your hand on the countertop, not a care in the world who sees it. Fireworks light up behind your eyes like splashes of paint.

…..

There’s not a sunroom you can turn into a studio in your new apartment in London. It’s a smaller space, and you end up doing most of your painting at the main studio anyways. But Oscar is there, perched on the edge of a table watching you paint whenever he can. And in the entryway of your new place, you hang up the old portrait of him, right next to a photo of the two of you taken just after you moved to London.

In the photo, his arm is around your shoulders, his lips against your temple. He’d asked you to be his girlfriend officially seconds after it was taken, but there’s a light in both of your eyes that tells you it was inevitable, really. It’s something in the way he’s smiling, in the way his cheeks burn red and his lips are pink and the way you smile at him, too. Like you’ve both known it all along. That the two of you have always been complementary colors, just waiting for the right moment.

a/n: been working on this one for a while finally got it! hope you enjoyed thanks for reading!

Taglist: @4-mula1 @struggling-with-delia @lovekt @i-wish-this-was-me @forzalando @iloveyou3000morgan @callsign-scully @ggaslyp1

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