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simpjaes · 7 months ago

Text

DAY-SHIFT. (p. sh)

― part one here! After finding out that your boss has seen, heard, and instructed you through some pleasurable nights while parading around as a faceless cam-boy, you decide that your best course of action is to: call out sick. use vacation days. avoid Park Sunghoon at all costs. Unfortunately, ten days doesn’t appear to be nearly enough time to erase what’s happened, and Sunghoon refuses to be avoided. or the one where sunghoon pretends that he isn’t an anxious mess over accidentally exposing himself and you just so happen to have a lot of fucking empathy.

minors dni

PAIRING ― boss / cam boy!sunghoon x afab reader

WORDCOUNT― 14.5k

CONTENT― forbidden office romance kind of, smidge of angst if ur sensitive, mentions of predatory behavior from sunghoon, he is more desperate than he is dominant, just the way we like it.

NOTE ― bro im so sorry this took way too long to write, it also is way longer than it's supposed to be. but yknow. i had to do him right lmfao. NOT PROOF READ.

nsfw tags under cut

nsfw tags― perverted sunghoon, heavy petting, making out, foreplay on a chair lol, desk sex, very intimate shit ok? ok., pussy eating, jerking off, finger fucking, fingers-in-mouth antics, gagging, implications of something more than just an office fling, unprotected sex, he fills you UP!!! YIPEE!!!

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Avoidance.

That is the only way you know out of any awkward or unsavory situation. Avoid, avoid, avoid. Find a new job, change your name, dye your hair– question all of your life choices up to this point.

It’s the fact that never in your life have you had an interest in live sex cams. It was always just a porn video or a nice erotic novel for you. Sometimes curiosity gets the best of you though, like it does all people, and it’s not like you thought anyone would ever know who you are or catch you in the act of feeding into your curiosities.

The one time you ever navigated to the live camera feed on your favorite porn site did shift your sexual appetite a little bit. A whole new world of seeing exactly what you want without needing to search for far too long for that perfect video…for a cost, of course.

You made good money already, and it’s not like you weren’t going for that promotion at the time either. You thought, why not? Why not pay a pretty, faceless man for some anonymous jerking off and move on with your life?

The one time you found something to satiate the late night body-cravings, the point of pleasure ended up being…your boss?

Small world? Miniscule, fucking tiny little world.

For days you wondered if Sunghoon’s text to you was just a coincidence. After all, the faceless man on screen didn’t say a word to you after you uttered the name of your boss. Even if he directly said your name. Even if Park Sunghoon uttered your false name at work.

Consistent back and forth in your head. From, “No, how could that even be possible? No way is it him.” to “but Mr.Park started being weird after the first call, he used both names, he played off of the boss/employee dynamic.”

You’re going crazy as you send another email to your department, apologizing for taking so many days off but not truly apologetic. It’s been ten days now and Sunghoon has yet to text you again.

That little “Can we talk?” can be heard in your head in his voice. Only now recognizing how clear and unique it truly is when he does speak. You try not to realize how similar the cam-boy sounded to him. Only connecting the dots when they force you to do it, really. You still try to convince yourself that the text was about firing you, given his actions at work that very same day.

Maybe he was avoiding you because he felt awful about needing to fire you?

Maybe he sent that text message to start the process of pushing you out?

After all, it’s still very difficult to imagine Park Sunghoon having a cock that nice, or cum in that amount. Given, it’s not like you ever thought about him jerking off or anything, it’s just–

You don’t fucking know. Your brain is a mess of shaking anxiety and echoes of sexual frustrations and moans.

You were refunded your money. He texted after the session. He said your name. It’s him, isn’t it?

You refuse to fucking find out.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

From:...[ [email protected] ]

CC:...[ [email protected] ]

BCC:...

Subject: Time off Request: Rejected. Insufficient PTO.

[insert your name here],

The time you have requested from the 27th to the 3rd has been rejected due to insufficient hours. As of last Thursday, you are no longer meeting the minimum hour requirement as a full-time employee. Your PTO is at 0 hours and 00 minutes and you now have three unexcused absences. Please return tomorrow with a signed order or note that exempts you from work. If you move forward without returning to the building, this will be grounds for termination. Please review the company handbook and job abandonment guidelines.

Additionally, COO Lee, myself, and Division manager Park will be scheduling a meeting with you in the upcoming days, failure to appear will result in immediate termination.

Thank you,

Well, fuck. You knew the time to avoid this would dry up, and this ten day hideaway to fake your death didn’t quite pan out.

Devastating, truly, that you have to walk through those doors with the same legs your boss may or may not have seen spread open for him through a grainy webcam image. Horrifying, that you have to look him in the eye and explain that you really were sick for the past ten days, that you definitely were not hiding the shame of your sexual desires.

The worst part about all of this? Not just the embarrassment but the fact that…you liked it. On that night, had he admitted it was him, you may not have ended the call yourself. It felt like it added some danger to your arousal at the time. Which, naturally, makes you more embarrassed now. Mostly because, at worst if that was Mr.Park, it was predatory. At best though? You very well may have consented.

But the what ifs don’t matter now. The only thing that matters is forcing yourself through the awkwardness of being at work after avoiding it for so long already.

Fortunately for you though, work is…weirdly normal. In fact, no one acts like you’ve missed ten days at all. You are greeted by the usual co-workers, you sit down at your desk and can log in as usual, and there are no warning emails or invitations for what would be considered a meeting of termination either.

The day goes by just fine, suspiciously so. Sunghoon, though you’re avoiding him at the moment, doesn’t appear to be too out of character either. At one point, you were forced to drop corrected paper work off in his office, and he gave you the same usual and small “Thank you” before you stepped out with your legs threatening to buckle.

Then again, his “casual” appreciation could just be your mind playing positive little tricks on you. Maybe it wasn’t casual at all. Maybe that little uncharacteristic breath afterwards isn’t just in your head. You didn’t make eye contact with him during that brief moment, and you did rush out quite quickly so you wouldn’t really know. However, in the deepest part of your brain his voice really does match the one who said all those dirty things to you.

Maybe you’re still overreacting.

Or maybe you dreamed all of this up.

You choose to remain unaware of the awkwardness around you solely because everything else is normal. Deep, deep down, you know. But you’re not giving that truth a chance to thrive or run your brain anymore.

And just as the day comes to an end, you’re actually feeling better. Anxiety is draining out of you, fear and embarrassment sit dormant in some hidden part of your brain over the small possibility of virtually fucking your boss. It seems you’ve let this work day clear up all of that fear in your head.

You were wrong, right? It wasn’t him, right? He’d have tried to defend himself by now. What boss wouldn’t be absolutely terrified that you’d report him, anyway? After all of that?

You actually feel a little dumb at the possibility of Mr. Park ever wanting you sexually, or ever even wanting to speak to you in that way. Asking to see your pussy? Telling you how to touch it? No, that’s definitely not him. Couldn’t be him.

And your eyes do stray after a little while. Just to steal glimpses into his office, feeling relieved and weightless now that it appears your fears are over and finally understood. Doesn’t change the fact that now when you look at him, you might be wildly fucking attracted to him. Because fuck, imagine if that was him. You’re kind of forced to put his image to the faceless cam-boy now, not that you want to do that or anything. It just…you can’t really blame yourself for it.

You lend yourself a little laugh. As happy as you are that you’re able to convince yourself that it’s not Sunghoon’s cock you’ve yearned for, you really wouldn’t mind sleeping with someone as handsome as him.

Crazy how the lack of anxiety lets you think those types of things though, isn’t it? When your brain is no longer fogged by fear or embarrassment, it’s like the clarity can sometimes be scarier simply because you don’t know how true certain statements are. Even through all of that fear, maybe a part of you wished it was him.

Even with the weight on your shoulders lifted, in hindsight, maybe you’re even a little disappointed that it wasn’t.

And, just as you’re preparing to clock out and head home with a big secret crush and a little pep in your step, you hear the familiar notification of an email. No problem, probably just a daily report or something.

From:...[ [email protected] ]

CC:...

BCC:...

Subject: Mandatory Advising

[insert your name here],

Please come to my office before you leave for the day to discuss your conduct as of late.

Thank you,

Park Sunghoon

Division Manager

000-000-0000 ext. 000

Well, double fuck. To think everything was fine despite you being well aware of that shit HR said to you previously?

You barely recognize how the email is sent directly to you from Mr. Park, not including HR or COO Lee. In fact, the anxiety wells up inside of you so quickly that you nearly have to dry heave a few times before taking a deep breath.

In your head, it’s not even about the web-cam session with a faceless man anymore. Your anxiety about that died the moment you successfully lied to yourself enough, now you’re genuinely just afraid you’ll lose your job or that beloved promotion you worked so hard to be qualified for. You just had to let your anxiety run your life for the past ten days, didn’t you? After all, skipping work to such an extent? Everyone had to have known that it was a lie eventually.

So, you stand to your feet, brush off your thighs, and attempt to keep your heart from pounding as you make your way to Mr. Park’s office expecting to see HR, COO Lee, and a severance package on the desk waiting for your signature.

Instead, you walk in to just find your boss. He’s looking at you as he normally would, eyes focused on his screen before glancing at you for a moment and nodding his head to one of the chairs in front of his desk.

“Mr. Park–” You start, nearly wincing at the way you say it because, well, you haven’t said it since the night you had your pussy out on display. It’s only natural to physically react, right?

“One moment.” He says in a small voice, clicking a few times with the mouse as you watch the monitor light shine across his cheeks with each window he minimizes.

It’s silent for a few moments as you awkwardly look around an office you’ve been in countless times. His lights are always dimmed, the temperature is always comfortable. You’re gonna miss this office, though it’s not your own. It was a nice, brief escape before all of this if you’re being honest.

“How was work for you today?” He turns his attention to you, finally adjusting and rolling his chair to center himself in front of you behind his desk

You pause at the question, unintentionally tilting your head at it like a puppy. “Good? Normal, I guess?”

You watch as he nods with a tight-lipped expression, eyes falling to his desk as he takes in a deep and disappointed sounding breath.

“Well, that’s one of us.” He huffs out, causing you to feel a bit confused with his tone. Is he being…passive aggressive? And when he snaps his eyes from his desk straight to your own confused gaze, you can almost sense a bit of something else in them compared to usual.

Not anger. Not disappointment.

He looks worried.

“Eleven days–” Sunghoon drones on with an exhausted tone, cutting himself off with another breath that shows you were right to assume his current displayed emotion. “You have ignored my text messages for eleven days.”

You’re shocked by that because as far as you’re concerned, he has not texted you.

“What are you–” You furrow your brows at him, frantically pulling out your phone. “You haven’t texted me. See? The last one I got was–” You take a second as you pull up his texts and remember the exact time he texted you. So late into the night, right after…that. Naturally, you silence yourself, afraid to say it out loud.

“On the contrary,” Sunghoon denies your proof. “I texted from my personal phone.”

You hesitate again, looking down and noting the notifications under the tab of “message requests.” To be fucking fair though, you didn’t even know that existed so you never really paid attention to it. Especially as you practically avoided your phone out of fear that he’d be texting you again.

You were thankful he didn’t. That comforted you. Now though? Your comfort is replaced yet again with anxiety because, well, he texted you consistently after that night.

“Oh–” You say quietly, seeing a glimpse of “Please, let me call y–” in one of the messages.

“I didn’t see those.” Quickly, you turn your screen off and shove your phone back into your pocket, nervously clasping your hands in front of you and looking to the floor.

“I will reiterate then.”

You can hear the leather on his chair squeak against his expensive suit when he leans forward, both hands splayed out on his desk in a wide and intimidating stance in front of you.

“Wait–” You look around the office now. “If you’re going to fire me– shouldn’t the others be here too?”

Sunghoon pulls back at that, narrowing his eyes before lending a very small and even more nervous chuckle.

“I’m not firing you. I told them I’d take care of your sudden and, quite frankly, unhelpful vacation.”

You look to the floor again, feeling scolded for your actions but having a genuine reason. If Sunghoon truly is aware of that reason for your absence, he understands too, right?

“I have been beyond inappropriate with you.” He blurts now, that same leather squeaking as he leans back again and looks away from you the moment you snap your head up. “I have reason to believe you’ve not yet reported me, and I’d like to ask for the opportunity to explain myself before you do.”

You feel a chill wash over your whole body, cold sweat peaking right at your temples as you stare forward. He’s being so professional about this, and that lie you’ve convinced yourself of is showing it’s face as just that, a fucking lie.

So this is it?

So there it is? A semi-admittance that it was him? That little feeling in the back of your head that wishes it was diminishes within an instant. In fact, you narrow your eyes at him, your nose crinkles, and you feel frustration bubble up in your gut.

“So you admit that it was you?” You ask, needing a full confirmation.

“Yes.” Sunghoon sighs, leaning back somehow further, creating as much distance from you as possible before unintentionally rolling his eyes. Mostly due to the fact that he was stupid enough to let this happen, mostly to shame himself. “What I did was inappropriate and unacceptable. I didn’t intend for this to ever happen.”

Now you feel a bit…pissed off.

Like? Oh, he didn’t intend for this to happen? What? You mean he didn’t intend to let you fucking find out! Well, as good as he is at playing the part of a slutty man on the internet, he’s not so good at acting in real life, now is he? Saying your false fucking name at work, saying your real name with his cock out?

What in the fuck are you supposed to do about this? Why is he giving you the ability to report him? He’s the one with the power here. He could fire you now and bury the information if he so pleased. After all, He’s besties with COO Lee, right? That bitch in HR has an obsession with him too. Hell, everyone here loves the guy.

You’re just a bottom of the barrel employee trying to work your way up. If you got him fired, surely he’d make damn sure you never work for a decent company like this one again. Additionally, you don’t even want to report him.

Yeah, it was fucking weird that he just knew it was you and kept going. Super strange that he had to have known after the first call, only to ask to see you in the second one. Why does that turn you on in the midst of this anxiety induced spiral? Why the fuck is the idea of Park Sunghoon apologizing for masturbating to and for you so alluring?!

Sure, maybe it’s kind of nice knowing that someone of his status would ever find an interest in you, but it doesn’t quite wash the frustration away. You have every right to question, and every right to be pissed off about it.

Still, in this quiet room, Sunghoon is stoic and all you can think about when you look at him is the way he said “if I were your boss i’d–” and the way he fucked his palm while saying it, implying he wanted it to be you while simultaneously knowing it was you watching.

Since fucking when did Mr. Park ever show a sexual interest in you? And if he did, why the fuck couldn’t he have just been normal about it?

“That was really fucked up, you know that?” You argue immediately, voice shaking at the speed of which your emotions shift. Your resolve isn’t quite as clear as it probably should be. Perhaps you should report him, or maybe you already should have. But, it’s not like you accepted the truth until he demanded it of you.

You would have let it slide. Both of you could have pretended it never happened. You could’ve gone home and continued working, never paying a cam-boy again had Sunghoon not called you into this stupid, comfortable ass office.

“In my defense, I was just doing my job. Though it’s my own fault for not telling you, my job here was at risk if you had found out.”

“You made me talk about you.” You roll your eyes at him now, gaining the power and control over the conversation. “And you thought I wouldn’t find out?! What? Did that get you off or something?”

“I–” Sunghoon stops himself from answering that question truthfully. He quickly tries to explain away the stutter instead. Never has he been scolded by an employee, but you’re well within your rights to do so. “I wasn’t in my right mind. I never get called by name during these sessions and I apologize for having you say it.”

“And you want me to report you?” You raise a brow at him. “Want me to just storm right into HR and tell her how you’re a fucking pervert? Want me to tell her how you told me to repeat your name? To thank you for it? Is that really what you want?”

Are you enjoying yourself a little too much? Maybe.

Sunghoon doesn’t respond though, instead, he runs his hand through his hair and sighs from the stress welling up inside of him. He can only act calm and collected for so long, and it’s been eleven days already. He hates how hearing you say those words goes straight to his cock at a time like this, he hates even more how all of this could have been avoided if he had simply declined your second call.

But you’re not wrong. He is a pervert, and he did tell you to thank him for the pleasure you were getting from his voice and half image alone. At the time, he was so turned on he really just couldn’t help himself. You fed his sexual appetite unknowingly and now this is the consequence of his action. Being a known pervert.

Is it what he wants though? To be reported? Humiliated?

Fuck.

Arguably, just having you humiliate him like this is enough. Drives him crazy, really. Whether it be from arousal or guilt, or both.

And for the first time since you started working here, you see him for what he truly is. A strong man to an extent, but he’s crumbling under his own mistake and it makes you wonder just how far he would’ve taken it had you not found out.

“And what if I didn’t realize who I was fucking myself for?” You glare. “Would you have asked for more? Avoided me here even more? Would you have declined my application for the assistant position because you can’t come to terms with the fact that you’re a fucking pervert?!”

Sunghoon raises his hands in defense.

“Please–” His voice sounds panicked. “Please, keep your voice down.”

“Answer the question, then. Just fucking own it at this point.” You throw your arms up now, letting them fall back down in a slap to your thighs. “Would you have made my work-life miserable just so you could watch me get off to you? Knowing the whole time? Would you have kept on with that boss slash employee shit just so it felt more real for you?”

Staring forward at him, you watch him accept that everything you’re saying is likely exactly what would have happened. Maybe he really will try to own it. Which would be… a good thing if you decide to let your own resolve falter.

So fucking secretive, huh? An actual, real life degenerate? And it’s Sunghoon of all people?

“Maybe…” Sunghoon trails off, making himself seem much smaller than he usually is on a day-to-day basis. “I mean, No–I,”

Oh, he’s actually stuttering.

“And you want me to tell on you? You want me to fuck your life up?” You raise a brow. “As if I didn’t pay you to do it?”

In all honesty, aside from the anxiety and awkwardness, and despite never once thinking of Sunghoon too sexually, things have changed. Drastically. Especially after being confronted with this situation and he’s not intimidating you or using his power to control you. No, he’s giving you the power and quite frankly, you don’t know what to do with it.

Are you basking in it? Absolutely. Is it nice to see him cower in front of you? In that big plush chair that costs more than your monthly income? Hell yeah.

But goddamn, had he approached you before all of this and asked for a date, or showed interest, you would have gladly partaken in a secret romance with him. He’s intelligent, attractive, clean, and has money. It’s not like you ever expected the guy to go home and fuck himself on camera.

You never thought he was the type to be so lonely either. Or so desperate, judging by how he acted during those two sessions. Arguably, you always wondered why there was never a ring on those pristine fingers.

And while you were definitely the victim in this situation, you feel more embarrassed than you do violated. Many nights you thought of how he spoke, how he said how badly he wanted you. It’s embarrassing because you’re starting to love the idea of who those words really came from. The Park Sunghoon, so untouchable in the business world. So untouchable by women and men solely because he appears to be too expensive, too pristine.

But you…

You’ve seen him dirty.

Part of you wishes you didn’t pay to be humiliated like this. The rest of you wishes you didn’t fucking like it as much as you do.

“It’s only fair.” Sunghoon explains with a short breath. “I feel awful for what I’ve done, and I should have told you the moment I recognized her as, well–” He pauses with a pained face, as if he hates hearing himself say it. “You.”

“Then, why didn’t you?” You raise your brow again, nearly forgetting you’re at work, solely focused on the conversation at hand and feeling relieved at the way it’s going.

Sunghoon shifts in discomfort, looking away from you.

“Do you want honesty?” He asks in a quiet voice, leaning forward on his desk but refusing eye contact. He keeps his gaze lowered the entire time, his voice small and shaky.

There’s still people in the office, though his door is closed and it’s unlikely he can be heard.

You nod to him with an even smaller “Go on then.”

“I tried to convince myself that it wasn’t you.” He says, shifting his hands and picking at his cuticles.

Man, he really knows how to act sorry, doesn’t he?

“I avoided you after that first call, solely because I think I wanted her to be you. Which is…incredibly inappropriate.”

He looks up at you now, searching for a reaction and only seeing you nod at him. His eyes shift right back down as he continues.

“My avoiding you led you to– um– more services.” He explains quieter, admitting in full the situation he’s allowed to take place, seeming more and more insecure with his words than he ever has before. “I can admit that I have fantasies and needs.”

Silence.

“After that first call, I couldn’t help but be entirely attracted to you. The idea of–”

You suddenly find yourself thinking back to all of those things he said to you again, parading as if he wasn’t your boss, telling you what he'd do if he were. He seems to have accidentally found a sexual interest in the dynamic…and he fucking dragged you into it with him.

“Mr. Par– Sunghoon.” You cut him off, actually feeling a bit of pity now at his admittance.

His words make you feel like maybe he’s not entirely just a pervert who was intending to make you get off to him from the start. If anything, he probably felt uncomfortable at first knowing who was on the other end of the call. It’s the fact that his real life job was at risk if you found out, and still he indulged despite that. He accepted that second call, he asked for more, he acted like he really does want you.

To the extent that losing his job was in the front of his mind and he still did it. He ignored the danger of it and prioritized getting off…with you. You find yourself wondering if this would have happened to any other employee under him if they happened to stumble across his stream too.

Part of you wants to pretend he wouldn’t, because the idea that all of this is happening solely because it was you? It hits a little too hard, a little too deep.

“Okay, okay. Stop,” You say, keeping your eyes on him and willing him to look up at you. “You don’t have to keep explaining, I get it.”

“No.” He does meet your eye this time, stopping your brain of all thoughts at how differently you see him now versus all the times before. “I do.”

He’s so honest. Probably too honest for his own good. Maybe that’s why he’s so good at his job, maybe that’s why everyone loves him. Maybe a bit of lying would help him in this situation if it were anyone else, but for you?

You kind of enjoy the way he’s telling the truth. Admitting that he was desperate, apologizing for wanting you even if just for a brief moment.

“I asked you to turn on your camera for selfish reasons. I asked you to say my name, then I made the mistake of exposing myself because I–” He hesitates, closing his eyes and breathing in deeply through his nose. “I struggled to pretend it wasn’t me, and that she wasn’t you. I very well knew what I was doing, and at the time, I wished that you did too.”

More silence as you stare at him, stunned, slightly in awe.

“But I knew you wouldn’t have reciprocated. What I’ve done is criminal, and I am encouraging you to report me for it if that’s what you deem necessary.”

“And if I don’t?” You don’t leave any more room for silence now, feeling desired and validated.

You can’t pretend that you’re mad, though you were previously. You simply can’t pretend that, now at least, you wouldn’t reciprocate. If anything, you’re more interested now than you think you ever would have been before.

“We can forget any of this ever happened. I’ll stop streaming and accepting private calls, and we can hopefully move forward without any ill-feelings of one another.” He blinks at you, near pleading with his eyes. “I’ll push your application through– That is, if you still want the position.”

Sunghoon does wince at the bribe, considering he’s never done such a thing let alone commit acts of sexual harassment, or perhaps even non consensual foreplay with someone. It really really wasn’t entirely intentional, and he’s disgusted with himself. If you report him, he’d take the hit to his reputation and career, but if you don’t…what then?

Ill-feelings, he says? If anything, you might feel more ill parading around like you wouldn’t want him to do all of those things he said previously, with free-will to say as he pleased without the fear of you knowing who the words were coming from.

“Can you please stop with the professional talk?” You hum out with an exhausted eye roll. “I don’t want the promotion if you’re just offering it so I don’t rat you out.” You narrow your eyes now and lean yourself forward. “You hope to forget this ever happened? Really?”

Carefully, the two of you watch each other for a while longer. Sunghoon looking like he’s about to catch himself on fire, and you, looking annoyed and amused. Still, the thick air in the room starts to feel suffocating under the pressure of the “issue” at hand as you scold him further.

“What you did was predatory. But– I don’t want to ruin your life over this.”

You watch as Sunghoon listens, his posture opening up a bit more as you speak, showing that he’s being relieved of his stress through your words alone.

“Are you trying to hold a promotion over my head over this?”

Before he gets the chance to curl in on himself again, you answer for him.

“Maybe.”

You continue too, not letting him speak for the time being. Or, rather, giving him a chance to breathe.

“Should you change your username and continue doing what you want behind closed doors because it’s no one else’s business?” You really watch him this time. “Yes.”

He blinks at you, raising a brow in slight confusion.

“Did you take advantage of me?”

He nods before you whisper out another “yes” yourself.

“Would I let you do it again…?”

Oh, for Sunghoon, it’s hard to breathe right now as he anticipates what you’ll say. Is it going to be a ‘no’ this time? Are you going to stand up and change your mind? Despite just stating you don’t want to ruin his life?

God, hasn’t he already let you?

“Yes.”

Pause.

“I’m sorry?” Sunghoon responds in disbelief, shifting his eyes to his hands and then back to you. “Come again?”

“Sunghoon.” You make it a point to call him by his name now, ignoring the etiquette of a proper boss and employee dynamic. “I am humiliated by all of this but I can see that you are too. You’ve admitted your guilt and even go as far as encouraging that I report you.” You pause again, knowing that this isn’t where the conversation should be going for any, uh, normal person, you suppose.

“If you had just told me. If you had said anything about wanting to, like, fuck me, I would have done it with or without the promotion on the line.”

Does that make you sound a little desperate? Yeah. But it’s not like he doesn’t know how badly you need to be fucked. After all, you know, the cam sessions and stuff. You were literally paying a stranger to get you off.

Shouldn’t he, of all people, know that you were bad-off enough to get laid?

Sunghoon’s issue though, is that he never looks at his employees sexually. No matter how pretty, no matter how much they flaunt themselves at him. He never has, and probably never will again. If it hadn’t been for that single first session with you, all would be well. But now? He’s too attracted to you.

He wants you so badly.

“If you tell me right now that you want me, in the same way you did on that call–” You stop yourself to really look at him. With the way he swallows, the way his lips slightly part, the way his hands show signs of eleven days worth of nervous habit cuticle picking. “If you do all of those things you said you’d do ‘if you were my boss’...”

“Wait, wait–” Sunghoon stands in a rush, causing you to jump slightly at the sudden sound echoing off of the walls in the office. “Do you understand the consequences of what you’re implying right now?”

“If I fuck my boss, we could both be fired?” You smile, feeling the confidence raise within you. Watching the way he reacts to your lewd words face to face rather than through a microphone.

“That would be…correct.” He raises a brow.

“Well, technically, you’ve already been fucking me.” You look away from him, feeling a bit shy even with the confidence, but never having spoken to a man so bluntly before like this? It’s a bit scary. “Would it really make anything worse if, you know, I do reciprocate?”

Goddamn. Sunghoon might be a bit smitten. This situation could have gone a thousand different ways, and you offer the one that includes your legs spread across this fucking desk and his face buried between them?

Oh. Never has he been so willingly turned on at work.

“Is this what you want?” He asks in a breath, shifting his eyes to the door and walking towards it, immediately reaching for the lock but not quite turning it.

“Is that what you want?” You counter, turning and staring at the lock.

Sunghoon hides his nod, wanting you to be the one to answer first. After all, hasn’t he been self-indulgent enough?

“Do you want me to fuck you?” He finally breaks and says it, blatantly, not sugar coated, yet still sweet when the words hit your ears. “After all this, you still want it?”

You nod, dipping your head a bit against your shoulder.

Click.

“I guess I should have known.” Sunghoon plays with his words now, hand dropping from the now locked door and eyes entirely on you. “Do you want me to fuck you, or would you prefer–”

“You.” You smile, feeling your skin prickle at the electricity that enters the room through breath and words alone. It’s the way he already shifted. Like all of that anxiety melted out of him within an instant.

“No, no.” He stalks towards you now, the nervous Sunghoon is no longer in sight as he makes himself seem bigger, taller, far more intimidating. Just like he was on camera. “The me you saw on screen is not the same as what you’re seeing right now.” He tries to explain.

“Oh?” You tilt your head, and he only finds that cute.

Far too cute.

“You’d do as I ask, right?” His voice shifts to a raspy whisper as he centers himself in front of you, both hands reaching the arms of your chair as he hovers above you. “I’m far more tame online.”

Tame?! That’s what he calls tame?!

You stare up at him, keeping your jaw from falling slack as you physically see him shift from being your boss into being a man with a need. Not just any need either. A need for you.

Part of you wonders if he ever truly felt bad in the first place about all of this, because the shift from just moments ago is so dramatic it’s almost scary.

“So, tell me.” He leans down, inches from your face as his eyes start to fall to a half-lidded stare at you. “You’ll do as I say? You’d let me do it all for you, and not ask me to stop until I feel it best, yes?”

You swallow and slowly nod. Oh god, it really, really, is him.

“And while at work, you’ll behave?” He continues, lips now ghosting over yours to the point you can almost feel them press down. He’s implying that if you don’t tell, that this won’t be the only time too? Shit. He’s entirely aware of why this shouldn’t be happening, but still making it happen.

“No matter what I do to you, where or how I do it, you’ll behave?”

You can’t help it when you lift your chin, just a bit to rest your lips against his words, eyes falling closed and hands hesitant to reach out for his perfectly ironed shirt.

You feel his smile against your lips, with that sharp-toothed grin he rarely offers.

“Ah, so it’s true.” He murmurs against you, his hand reaching for yours and guiding it for you, straight to his belt. “Dirty, dirty girl.”

A small, pleased, sound leaves your throat when he does kiss you, adding his own pleased hum alongside yours as his hands still hold yours in place over his belt, not quite letting you do anything just yet.

”Gonna be quiet–” He whispers into your mouth, just against your tongue before licking out and against it. “Even when I tell you to moan my name?”

You really shouldn’t be surprised, but you still are. You like this Sunghoon better than the one who stutters and picks his cuticles. He’s owning it, and in a way, so are you.

After all, it wasn’t until today that you truly learned what Sunghoon is like when he’s aroused. Not that you ever should have known in the first place. The fact that you do know, the fact that he’s showing you? It just makes this all the more arousing, in your opinion.

All he needed was a green light and within seconds it seems, Sunghoon became the need you’ve been chasing for months now through porn sites and erotic novels.

You nod to his words, trying to drop your hand just a bit to feel what you’ve already seen. Just to feel how warm he is, how—

“Is that so?” Sunghoon whispers in an amused tone, guiding your hand right back to his belt, only to drop his other hand straight between your legs. “You’re supposed to do as I say. If I tell you to moan my name, you do it.”

Oh, the sexual confusion of what to do and which Sunghoon to obey. All you can do is continue to nod for him, hanging your head with a breath at the way he cups his hand over the entirety of your core. You wore pants today in order to hide your shame, to try and feel invisible based on previous circumstances. You’re not so happy about that now, as you try to feel his touch through the thick fabric only to shamelessly thrust your hips up and against his palm.

He moves his lips to the top of your head now, hovering over you in a perfect stance of power, hand gently rubbing up and and down despite your hips asking for a harsher touch. If anything, it makes him feel better knowing how you react to this.

In actuality, his relief is sending his arousal through the roof. Not only are you not going to rat him out but…you want more of it? More of him, in particular? Not the facade of him online?

At this point, if he gets caught, you’re both going down in flames. So, why not enjoy the ride?

Truly, it’s laughable in the way he’s just as amused as he is turned on, relishing in the fact that he wants you and you’re letting him have you despite his past actions. You’re messy too, he’s seen it, and now he gets to feel it.

“Mhm,” Sunghoon hums against the top of your head, now pressing his own hips forward against your hand. “Feel that?”

The electricity? How hard he is? How needy you are?

”Yeah…” You sigh absentmindedly, bumping his chin with your head when you try to look up at him. You only blink twice before he coos out with a sad little sound.

He doesn’t say a word after as he removes his hand and instead, grabs both of your hands and places them on his shirt.

“Go on.” He smiles, waiting to see you to start fumbling against his buttons.

And fumble, you do. Touching him, for some reason, feels so dangerous. Knowing you’re the one removing his shirt, watching his skin be revealed as it begins to fall open by your own doing? It’s electrifying. Enough to lose your train of thought as you study how toned and smooth his skin is. Just like how you had seen on camera, so clear in front of you now. You’re aching for him by this point, being able to feel his body heat, touch him, feel his eyes on you.

If you had really known back then who it was you were talking to, you very well may have pretended to not know as well, judging by the way your entire body catches fire for him.

And as his shirt falls completely open, he’s satisfied with the way you do it. Complacent and docile beneath him, nervous fingers shaking much like he did for the past eleven days. With those pretty eyes looking at him, like there’s nothing in your head at all.

He chuckles at you, grabbing your hands again and placing them right on his chest, helping your hesitant touch to massage and caress each bump and toned muscle. He intentionally flexes the further down your hands go, all the way back to his belt.

There, he looks down at where you touch, then back at you with a quirked brow. You stare up at him, blinking, face feeling hot, and it’s like you move your hands on instinct. The sound of his buckle being unclasped echoes in the room, and his eyes only darken with the sound.

The sound of it slipping from the loops when he takes it upon himself to remove it completely for you, the sound of his breathing, the sound of that zipper, the button, the shuffling of his pants being skewed down just enough to fit your hand inside.

He moans at the image alone, loving the way your smaller hand looks slipping down his pants, the way your breathing is somehow even as if you’re trying to keep yourself calm. So calm, so pretty, but he knows how needy you are. He shouldn’t, but he does, and he uses it to his advantage.

You’re the one who moans this time upon feeling that little twitch of his cock urging you to grab. And he helps you too, with the way he guides your hand under the front of his pants further, forcing your fingers to grab and grope the thick of his cock, uncomfortable and pressing between his briefs and undone zipper.

“Still, you’re just looking.” Sunghoon comments, pressing his hips forward slowly and gently. “I’m right here.” He continues to explain the situation to you, as if you’re not experiencing it. “You need me to show you how to touch me too?”

You hesitate with a groan caught in your throat. You’re still processing the size difference that you feel now versus what you saw. Bigger. Thicker. Heavier than you would have expected against your palm. Honestly, you were so focused on the fact that Sunghoon’s cock is currently fucking forward against you that you almost forgot how to jerk a man off by yourself.

His hand had been doing all the work for you, and you’re quick to take over.

Sunghoon lends a very small gasp at the way you try to grasp, and instantly both of his arms shoot to the chair behind your head. He grips it, dropping his chin to the top of your head before thrusting a bit harsher into the grip you try to hold on him.

“Harder.” He exhales, his cock twitching in your weak hold. “Grab me harder.”

You do, squeezing the bulge before intentionally adjusting it for him, allowing the head of his bulbous cock to peek from the top of his briefs.

His relieved sigh is enough, you can’t help it. With his chin sat atop your head like this, you have no choice but to watch the way he moves his hips. Just like he did on camera. His abs flex with each movement, his arms grip behind you on the chair tighter, and you couldn’t pull your eyes away from his desperate body even if you wanted to.

You thrust up too, as if your body craves what you’re already touching. And you do crave it, so much so that your clit aches against the denim you’re rubbing up against. Unfortunate that you wore these fucking jeans, honestly.

“Mr. Park–” You let out a small and frustrated cry, using your other hand to try and fail at unbuttoning your own pants.

He hides his smile at the way you’ve reverted back to his professional title, but pays no mind to it because that’s what he wanted to hear in your voice that night. A desperate sound of his name, a plea, a cry. He can’t help but cling to it and bury that pretty voice into the darkest parts of his brain. A memory he’ll revisit time and time again after this. That sound, those pretty lips, this weak grasp you have. For the time being, it’s his. You belong to him right now.

“Hm?” He hums out, fucking his hips forward while tilting his head back to look at you. “What is it, baby?”

Oh. You lost your train of thought.

Thankfully, he seems to do the thinking for you as he shifts his eyes down and watches you try to both please him and remove your own pants. A cute sight to him, really. Someone who was just scolding him for wanting this, fumbling for more?

So cute.

He chuckles, pulling his hips back from your hand and grabbing it, unbothered by the loss of your touch. Instantly he intertwines his fingers with yours, and grasps your other hand from your pants to do the same. Both your arms raise by his guidance to the back of the chair before he releases them.

You watch with a slack jaw and half-lidded eyes as he lowers himself, right onto his knees before he unbuttons your pants for you and very politely pulls them from your legs.

“This what you want?” He smiles, lying his cheek right against your exposed thigh and taking a deep inhale. It’s taking everything in him not to fawn over the woman who had him in his thoughts for the past however long, truly.

Then again, he’s weak. He doesn’t even look up at you through his words and, instead, nuzzles his nose right up and against the seat of your panties before inhaling with a pleasant hum. “To have me finally touching this pretty pussy for you?”

God damn, if you didn’t already know it was him on that camera, you do now. He speaks the same type of words, with the same confidence, the same sultry tone…

You can barely comprehend the way he slowly takes his own pants off because you’re too focused on the way he runs his lips across your skin with dirty thoughts spilling from them. Fingers tucked under either side of your panties in preparation before he eventually pulls them off of you.

“Did you wear those pants to hide yourself from me?” He comments now with an amused tone. “Knowing you wanted me to take them off of you anyway?”

You shake your head at him, holding your breath. You did wear them to hide, but you never would have expected this situation to go in a direction involving his mouth anywhere near where you need it. Sure, you assumed he would have rejected you, you assumed that if it was him– he’d have been so disgusted with himself that he’d only gag at your presence.

But no. You were bold in your words, and he seems to feed into that.

“No?” He furrows his brows and lifts his head. Now lowering your panties much like he did for your pants. He’s quick with his next action, seemingly hiding his own desperation through playful comments at you. “Why not?” He adds, instantly pressing his thumb against your clit and fucking shining his eyes up at you with a semi-pouted mouth.

You roll your eyes back at the sudden pressure, relaxing your shoulders and slouching down in the chair. Your legs spread further on instinct, granting him a full view of your sticky cunt parting open for him.

His eyes glance down, peering into the heat you offered once before ever knowing it was him looking. Clicking his tongue, he can’t help but bite his lower lip to hold himself back. He hopes you don’t notice the way his hand finds its way to his own cock, he really, really hopes you don’t see him act so pathetic over this.

But you do. The moment your eyes roll back into place and get a look at him. One of his shoulders is moving, but the action is hidden by not only the chair, but his fucking face. He’s got his lips parted and he’s licking his lower lip. Slicking it up with his own saliva before–

“So quiet,” He hums with glistening lips, lending himself a light hold with his cock and pretending it’s you doing it for him. “You have nothing to say for yourself?” He adds now, inhaling once more the scent of your slick dripping for him as he leans in just a bit more.

“Oh–!” You yelp slightly at the feeling of his teeth digging into the flesh just to the side of your core. He bites down harder and harder, licking the flesh between his teeth before sucking hard against it. The sweat and scent of your full-day at work does nothing to calm his raging cock. He loves it and it only grows his appetite for you. Licking, sucking, nibbling at the skin until he’s sure he’ll leave a nice, painful swell to rub against your panties later. Only then does he release your skin from his still-tasting mouth.

The relief when he releases your thigh is short lived because he offers not even a full two seconds before you feel his mouth circle your clit. Like he can’t help himself, like he can’t tease you right now even if he wanted to.

A flick of his tongue sends a shiver down your spine straight to your toes and you can’t stop your legs from immediately wrapping around his head. You hear his muffled “mmf” when you do that, but he keeps you from apologizing for it because his free hand goes straight under your ass and scoots you even closer to his tongue.

And if you didn’t already think Sunghoon knew how to use that mouth for more than just being a professional business man, you do now. With the way that same tongue that used to taste the morning coffee you’d bring him now tastes you. Deeply.

He licks, flicks, and sucks every fold. Slurping up any dripping heat that slips out of you before pressing his tongue in and nuzzling his nose against your clit. He’s not quiet about it either. He moans with each lick, hums every time your legs squeeze around his neck, slurps and loudly sucks.

It’s pornographic, it’s sexy, it’s–

Suddenly, you feel a sharp jolt shoot through you, having not even noticed his hand moving from your ass to your front, moving straight up under your shirt. His fingers immediately find your nipple and pinches hard. So hard that your previous moan only becomes prolonged. Grows louder, breathier.

He pinches and massages your nipple with the intent to keep you loud for him. Office setting or not, he could give less of a shit about that right now. He ignores the strain on his wrist from your bra, he uses his other hand to grip himself harder, and you can’t help but squeeze him tighter between your thighs until you’re, quite literally, shaking.

Your hips are sliding against his face with each jolt of pleasure, practically riding him, and his cock is now entirely neglected because you can’t help but want more. You need more. And he gives it, by now releasing himself and keeping both hands on you. One holding the outside of your thigh, almost pushing you to squeeze tighter, the other incessantly abusing your nipple.

He chokes out a moan through his messy movements, never quite knowing where to put his hands solely because he wants to touch all of you. His cock is just fine being neglected, he thinks, as he realizes just how much pleasure he gets from feeling you wrap yourself around him like this.

It feels better than jerking himself off.

“Mr. P–” You sigh out, still not quite used to actually calling him his name, but the sound of it reminds you time and time again how wrong this situation is supposed to be.

You’re sitting on this soft chair, pussy being spread apart by a tongue none other than the man who signs your paychecks. And just this morning you were terrified of him ever even getting a glimpse of you without pants on? God, how stupid could you be? You should’ve been chasing this man’s touch since the day you looked at him for the first time.

“Fuck–” You moan out for him, brain spitting thoughts at you as each second passes. The danger of this, the fact that he genuinely got off to you before you knew it was him. The secrecy of his perverted thoughts and actions…it’s all so… “So, you’re so – hot.”

You feel him laugh, kissing the pulsing hole of your pussy when he pulls his tongue back to swallow. And for just a few moments, he turns his head, gripping your thigh with his teeth once again before speaking back to you, muffled by the hot skin.

“Yeah?” He laughs, now pulling his hand from your bra and lifting to your chin, pointing your gaze down at him, forcing you to see the way your thighs nearly suffocate him against your pussy. “Then keep your eyes on me.”

And you do, especially when he uses both of his hands now, nudging them between your legs and forcing them from his shoulders. He rests your legs on the arms of the chair instead and flicks his eyes up at you.

“You watching?” He makes this a point, blowing a small breath of air straight at your clit before receiving a dazed and slow nod from you. “Keep your legs open too.”

That’s the last thing he says before his mouth is full again, sucking your folds between his teeth before tucking his tongue right back into your hole. He tastes for just a few moments before you feel those same lips on your clit. He lets it throb in his open mouth as he listens carefully to your little sounds, especially now that he’s sliding his fingers into you.

You gasp, holding your breath at the feeling. His fingers slide in, reaching deep before he scissors them open. And all you feel from it is pleasure. You can’t help that your eyes roll back again, but you do try to keep your gaze fixed on his. With his eyes so rounded, blinking up at you with his strong jaw moving with each swallow of his own muffled moans.

He sucks your clit, fucks your cunt open, and relishes in the way he will soon get to splay you across his desk and really let you have it.

And he does this for a few minutes, though in your head it goes by so fast that you nearly get whiplash from the way he pulls back with a wet sound and grins at you.

“Aw, baby–” He coos at the face you make, seemingly disappointed to lose all stimulation at once, but he’s quick to lift to his feet and lean back over you.

Oh, his cock. It’s right there.

Oh.

His face–

“You’re so fucking wet right now.” He murmurs against the corner of your mouth with a raspy whisper, easily and without warning slipping two of his fingers right back into the heat that he just denied himself of licking more. “You hear that?” He continues with a sharp toothed bite to your lip. “How wet you are?”

You groan at the way he slams his fingers in, out, in, out, in…He keeps them there, pressed so far into you that you can physically feel the way your pussy tries to push him out again.

“Could slip it in right now–” He moans out at how tight you clench just his fingers. “Fuck, could be so deep in you.”

Your face feels hot as a bashful feeling overtakes you. His voice hits so much harder when you feel his breath along with it. His fingers, his cock right up against you. You want him to slip it in. To stuff his cock in you so fast, no room to adjust, not a second to even catch your breath.

God, you need it right now. It’s been too long since you’ve felt a real person touch you, you can’t help that you feel so desperate. The clench isn’t on purpose, your body tells him all he needs to know, all while he tells you all you could only wish to hear fall from someone’s lips.

And not just anyone. His lips.

You shoot your arms around his neck and it's not really intentional but– an actual kiss. You need it.

He seems pleased by it though, with the way his tongue immediately asks for more. One hand moves to brace your cheek, the other still fucking into you so good that you can’t keep a single moan down. He takes full control of the initiated kiss solely because you kissed him first. Almost hungrily, he licks into your mouth with his own muffled groan, encouraging you to keep being pretty like this. Just so you can see what he’ll do to you.

And, damn. He guides your body like a puppet, stiffening his shoulders when he licks into your mouth and threatening to pull away by raising himself up just a bit. He knew you’d chase the kiss, and you do. You lift with him, your ass lifting from the chair just to keep his tongue against yours, and he takes the elevated position and angles his hand just a bit. There, his fingers fuck into you harder, faster, so much fucking deeper until– you feel his fingers stop at a painfully deep spot inside of you.

He pulls back from the kiss, looking down between your bodies, and your eyes follow his gaze. Right there, he’s placed his knee up against his own wrist, forcing his fingers to remain deep and unmoving in you.

You take in a sharp inhale, seeing the way he lets your body fall back to the seat of the chair, only forcing him to skew his fingers and– “Oh, god!”

You moan out so suddenly that it even shocks him for a moment, but he takes your weakness and uses it to his advantage. Quickly, he licks into your moaning mouth, tickling his fingers upwards, pulling even more animalistic sounds from you.

“Yeah?” He whispers frantically, so turned on by the way your entire body stiffens. “Right there?” He continues, leaning his full body weight forward with his knee, wincing at the way he presses his cock against anything he can find in the process, just to get you off right here, right now.

You nod just as frantically, toes curling, arms shooting to the chair in a form that should appear as discomfort, but really you’re just bracing yourself through the tensing of your muscles before all of them relax and pulse at once.

Your ears pop, but you can still hear your desperate cries of his name somewhere distant. You can even hear him, humming and encouraging your orgasm. You wish you could hold your eyes open to see him, to grab him and force him to fuck his fingers hard into you. God, you could take it right now. You could take just about anything to heighten this feeling of stars bursting behind your eyelids.

Somehow though, it’s like he knows. Half-way through your orgasm, you feel the weight between your legs shift and his fingers start moving again. Still, your eyes are squeezed shut, and you can't help but to lunge forward and hug against his neck, clinging to him through the prolonged orgasm that his fingers alone have brought to you.

“Squeezing me so tight–” Sunghoon groans, unsure of if he’s referring to the way your needy cunt crowds his fingers, or the way you cling to him like a lost pet, begging for him to never leave your sight. “Fuck, you’re so pretty like this.”

You hear those words over any of his others. So clear in your head as you snap your head up and look at him. You see him lower his gaze, but your grip doesn’t quite allow him to actually look down at you. Not when he has to physically hold you up anyway. Still, he looks amused up there, knowing that single compliment must’ve hit somewhere inside of you.

You’re not sure why, through all this, Sunghoon calling you pretty makes it so much more intimate. And even as your legs continue to shake, and you release your death grip hug on him, he keeps himself crowded up to you. He’s somehow out of breath just like you are, relishing in the calm silence of your post orgasm as he…Jesus.

It’s not just your imagination. Somehow, it is intimate. It’s the way he pulls his fingers out and both hands shoot to your face. First, he kisses you as if you’re a long lost love. Deeply, slowly. Then, he’s putting one hand at the small of your back, nudging his knee right back between your legs, and pulling you right up against him.

“Who did you cum for?” Sunghoon asks, pulling back just to lick against your lips and stare directly down at you. “Say my name.”

You don’t hesitate, echoing out with a winced expression, still so out of breath while rubbing your clit to the expanse of his thigh.

“Su-Sunghoo-Sunghoon-”

“Yeah?” He encourages you, hearing his name heat his ears up. He moves his pussy-slicked fingers to your mouth while you cry his name, and easily presses your tongue down with them, sliding the digits further and further down your throat. “Sunghoon.” He says his own name. “Say it again.”

You gag around his fingers, unable to obey his demand.

“Sung–” He inspects the way your tongue struggles against the intrusion in your mouth. “Hoon.”

You swallow around them now, sputtering, tears now running down the outer apples of your cheeks. He watches you do it too, wondering how good that would feel if it were his cock you’re swallowing around. Knowing you’d probably do it for him if he wanted to right now.

But…he needs more than that. Despite how delicious you look while gagging, his cock has been neglected and he needs to fuck out the stress from the past however long you’ve been avoiding him. It’s like his brain breaks with the action as he watches you take his fingers in whatever way he offers. You let him do whatever he wants. You’re obeying.

“Up.” He suddenly says, pulling all physical contact with you away as he turns, steps out of the pants restricting his ankles, and swipes every pen, file, and picture frame off his desk. “Come here, baby.”

You feel like you’re melted to this chair right now, in all honesty. You’re still trying to catch your breath just from touching his cock before he decided to make you see fucking stars, to think you can stand right now is insane.

So, when you don’t immediately hop up and throw yourself onto his desk, he turns to look at you.

You’re splayed out, legs still spread, toes still curled. Your chest is heaving to breathe, eyes wild and lips so fucking kissable.

“Oh, fuck.” He sighs to himself in realization, relishing in the image of you he’s only recently been craving. “Look at you.”

You lift your arm to hide your face, feeling apologetic for the way you’ve lost the ability to exist as an active participant right now. Even more apologetic when you glance down at how fucking hard his cock is. Raging hard, so pretty with the tip sputtering precum for god knows how long.

He watches you stare, and lends you a few moments to catch your breath by gripping it himself. Leaning himself against his desk and twisting his wrist with a tight grip at the base.

“Is this how you looked at me when I did this before?” He asks, flicking his wrist still with each drag. “So out of it, you look like such a mess, babe.”

You find yourself humming a confirmation to him as you watch, almost reverting back to who you were during that first session. Unseen, only heard, all while you got to see him pleasure himself to almost nothing. You gave him nothing.

You’ve still only given him nothing.

And so, very slowly, you force yourself to stand on shaking legs to take those two strides to his desk. Something inside of you tingles when he drops his cock and opens his arms for you, like a good boss would do in this situation. Supporting your unbalanced weight, letting you walk into his comforting grasp.

“Said my name so pretty, you know.” He comments gently when he holds you close to him. Hands reaching down from the grip around your waist just to grab both of your fleshy ass checks and squeeze them. “You want more, yes?”

He’s quick to the point, only allowing the short and sweet moments to last just enough for them to stick in your head. Just enough to have questions about his actions. Just enough to give him anything, everything, he could want if it involves your body.

You nod almost shyly, dipping your head down and leaning against his chest.

“Let's get this off of you then.” He smiles with a gentle voice, reaching to the hem of your shirt and pulling it straight up, watching how you lift your arms to help him. “Mhm–” He hums again, loving how the bra drags off of you along with the shirt. He lets both of his hands brush your nipples before he goes back to gripping your ass cheeks and spreading them.

Spreading them so wide that, once again, you have to lift on your toes just to let him play with your body. Which, oh man. Always wearing his button down shirts, his blazers, his long-sleeve shirts. You can’t help it when you tug at the opened fabric of his shirt, asking silently that he shake it off. Wanting to see his arms, wanting to see the strength in them.

And he does it without hesitation, letting his hands fall from you just for a moment to shake his shirt off, only now hugging against you again and forcing a position change. He turns both of you so now you’re up against his desk, and he’s standing in front of you.

It’s easy for him to push you back in a kiss. Your legs open for him on instinct anyway, so he need not worry about prying those legs open again. You do just as expected when he pushes you too. Your ass hits the desk and you lift on your toes to sit on it. Your legs spread wider, making room for him to step even closer, cock right up against you when he closes any amount of distance, and still? He’s kissing you.

All across your face, down your neck, back to your lips. And his hands just keep feeling. Massaging your tits, lending small taps to your ass, holding your chin, jaw, neck, and then…he runs them through your hair.

The feeling is so good you almost forget how you’ve been trying to steal a glimpse of his flexing arms as he grabs at you. Goosebumps prickle and you let out a groan at the pleasure of it. He keeps one hand there now, smiling against his kiss to your ear.

“You like being pampered?” He asks, now gripping a fist full of your hair and skewing your neck to the side. “Like being moved around like a puppet?”

Never once have you thought about your sex life that way, but when you think about it…maybe. After all, you did enjoy being told when and how to touch yourself, being allowed or forbidden from cumming. Now, with him quite literally moving you around with just a simple grip of your hair? Yeah.

“By you–” You mutter out as you open your eyes, staring at the ceiling and feeling his tongue lap against your earlobe.

“Just me?” He leans back, using that same grip in your hair to force you to look at him. “You’d give me that power?”

You nod against the grasp, lips falling open in a moan despite not being pleasured by anything aside from the stinging against your scalp as he pulls little hairs a bit too tightly.

“You know–” Sunghoon starts now, pressing his hips forward, dropping his other hand to his cock and slapping it right against your weeping cunt. “If I had known you were this dirty...”He sighs out at the image in his head, thinking back to all those times he silently complimented you in his head. Back then, never would he have made comments about your legs out loud, or how your tits would look in certain shirts. Thinking back now, he’s always found you quite beautiful.

Quite fuckable, even.

You listen to the silence waiting for him to continue, feeling the way he presses the hardened head of his length against your clit repeatedly.

“I would have propped you up on this desk months ago,” He smiles now, leaning in real close to your ear as his grip in your hair loosens just a bit. “Could’ve had you moaning my name this whole time.”

Then, you feel it. The way he adjusts his weeping cock lower, prodding at your hole just a bit until his tip is entirely enveloped by your clenching walls.

You swallow a moan and hold your breath, legs shooting around his waist and instinctively trying to force his hips to move forward, trying to force him to penetrate you deeper.

“Shh,” He coos out, holding his hips firm and not letting you control his movements. Then, he kisses just under your ear before peppering them all the way back to your lips. He doesn’t kiss you though, no, he chuckles at you for trying. Watching you let your tongue fall from your mouth, inspecting the way you’re entirely in tune for him right now. “You really want it, don’t you?” He whispers just above your lips. “Want me to fuck you right here, right now?”

You nod absentmindedly, legs still trying to force him to move, arms clinging under his biceps, head still forced into whatever position he keeps it in by the hair.

“Please–Sunghoon.” You cry in a small voice, feeling as if you’re going insane by the feeling of his tip sitting comfortably in you.

“You’re so cute.” He smiles, lending you another inch of his length before letting his hand fall from your hair. There, he grips your waist instead, letting a strained grunt fall from his own lips this time. He’s really trying to remain collected about this, and he’s unsure himself why he’s enjoying the act of teasing you like this. He feels like he’s teasing himself more than you right now, seeing as how it’s taking everything in him not to stuff his cock into you hard and fast. “So–so, fucking cute.”

You clench around the few inches in you and it appears that’s all he needed to break entirely. Is he controlling you, or are you controlling him?

Honestly, who gives a fuck?

You feel his arms shake when he plants them at either side of you, pointing his cock straight into you and sliding in fully. There’s a groan from him that you want to hear so badly, but your own heart beat is thumping in your ears so loudly that you miss half of it.

The stretch is delicious, and the fact that it’s Sunghoon doing this to you makes this all the more enjoyable. The man who you’ve seen day after day, now holding himself up on the desk you’ve signed papers on with and for him? All so he can angle his hips and shove his cock in? Just to let his arms frantically wrap around your waist? Just so he can scoot you forward on this desk, using your leaking slick to slide you back and forth in time with his hips?

That groan you wanted to hear? He hasn’t stopped. He’s essentially, controlling the entire situation and when you half open your eyes to witness his face, you’re forced to roll your eyes back in a moan matching his.

He’s fucking you so deeply right now that all you can do is moan, all you can do is forget the embarrassment, the victimization, the way he’s doing this to you despite the risk of reality crumbling. He could lose his job, you could lose yours, and yet still– he’s fucking you like he doesn’t care.

So, you choose not to care either in the form of grabbing his hair, forcing his head back, and attaching your lips right against his adams apple. You feel him swallow and breathe out a shocked sound, and then? You suck.

Intentionally, you suck, bite, and lick, harder and harder until there’s a deep purple mark there. He doesn’t even fight it, though you feel him try to move his head just to keep you from going too insane with it. You don’t care though, because still you feel his cock splitting you open, forcing you to adjust to him.

“Ah,” Sunghoon lets out another breath with that familiar chuckle, “Marking me now?”

You hum a confirmation as you move to a new spot on his neck, absolutely fucking marking him. Feeling devastated by the idea that he’d do this with any other employee. Or any other person in general.

“Making me all yours, huh?” He continues with his cocky words, feeling the way your pussy clenches him tightly, dripping all over his desk. He’d let you make him yours, with or without the bruising from your mouth.

“Mhm.” You hum pleasantly, letting out little yelps each time he slams into you. Letting out full moans each time his arms wrap around your waist tighter.

You continue with the act, littering his pretty neck with your touch and loving how he just lets you. Knowing that he’ll show up at work tomorrow looking a bit tired, but glowing nonetheless, trying to hide all these marks with that tight-necked collar he likes to wear.

“Whatever you want.” He breathes, letting his hips lose rhythm for just a moment as he feels his muscles tighten. “Fuck, you’re still so tight.”

You feel like you’re on top of the world as he compliments you, to the point you’re not sure when you’ll cum because your whole body has seemingly been feeling euphoria anyway. Everything feels good, even if his cock reaches deep enough to cause little jolts of pain. The sound of the desk scooting back through the force of his hips is enough to make you take it. Enough to squeeze your legs around him tighter, enough to clench, enough to– forget what you’re doing and let yourself fall into it with him.

Your head falls back from his neck and you pant out little half-calls of his name with each thrust. Your legs loosen from around him too, but his grip on your waist only pushes you back on his desk. Until he’s leaning forward so hard with each thrust that suddenly your back meets the cold wood.

Sandwiched between him and his desk, he follows the action, his hands quickly moving from your waist to your tits, pushing them together just so he can nuzzle his face between them.

There, you look at him. You really look at him.

What a messy, messy, man. Always so pristine during working hours, now looking so wrecked and out of it as he chases a pleasure that you hope only you can give to him.

“Mr. Park–” You sigh out in a pleasant voice, watching the way he sucks your tit into his mouth before his eyes open wide just so he can look up at you through each thrust. “Harder.”

You can physically see the way his eyes darken when he pops off from your tit, hands now going back to the desk as he hovers over you and intentionally rolls his hips.

You feel his cock loosen you up painfully before he intentionally fucks into you. Dragging all the way out, just to push forward in a deep and painful thrust. Over and over again, all while he’s staring straight into your eyes.

As you look up at him, you see the intent in his face. The way he wants to give you exactly what you want. Sweat shining from his cheeks, his neck littered with pretty colors. Oh, he’s actually heavenly when he fucks.

Better than what you thought that guy on camera would have been. He’s not nonchalant like he was when he was performing. He’s entirely in tune with you and what you want. Like what you want is what he wants.

You can tell he’s paying no mind to his own face or expression, blatantly putting all of his thoughts into how he’s pleasuring you, his eyes searching your face to tell him he’s doing well. To tell him you feel good, to tell him you’re close or–

“Fuck–” He sighs out, teeth tracing his bottom lip as he glances up, keeping pace with the way he’s been plunging into you. “I can’t keep looking at you,”

You smile, feeling dazed and far away. It feels like it’s just you and him. You’re not in his office, on a desk, or doing anything you shouldn’t be doing.

“You hear me?” He drops his body weight on you again, letting his hips move freely as he chases and chases. “I’m so close.”

Oh.

“Then look at me.” You huff out, now shooting a hand between his flexed abs and simply…touching your clit once.

“Oh–shit.”

It hits you so fast. Just a simple touch causes your pussy to clench Sunghoon so tightly that he mimics your sound.

“Ah, fuck- fuck,” His voice sounds frantic as he tries to pull out, only to feel your legs shoot back around him. This time, he lets you force him to stay. He lets those legs of yours push him back in, so deep that he knows he can’t fight. “No, no–” He chokes out, uncaring if his hips show you that he’s lying with his words. “I’m cumming– I need to–”

“Stay!” You shake beneath him but your voice sounds pleading, pressing once more to your clit before letting it go. You clench him again, essentially letting your body finish him off. Letting those clenches squeeze him so tightly, making sure he couldn’t fathom ever wasting his cum. “Don’t pull out.”

He doesn’t. In fact, he presses impossibly deeper, trying to bury his cock into you to the point it even pains him. Arms shaking as he tries to hold himself up again, only to drop his lips to yours under his own weight. His hips are so tense between your legs, his cock is so stiff that you can feel each pumped release, and still you’re experiencing your own euphoria through it.

To the point your toes are curling and you barely notice the way you leave welts across his back from your fingernails through the intense orgasm. To the point his slack lips against yours feel more natural than anything else. Not kissing, just close. So close that–

He kisses you.

After it’s all said and done, he still kisses you breathlessly. Passionately almost, clinging to you as his cock twitches as it grows flaccid inside of you.

He doesn’t pull out, he just…kisses.

And as you lay against his wooden desk, body coming down from the pleasure you’ve felt more than once within the past hour, all you can do is let your brain think on its own. Without shame, without embarrassment or anxiety.

You thought Sunghoon would have been in control the whole time. Teasing you, maybe even making this experience more painful than it needs to be. But no, he…

He’s soft. Gentle, almost.

Only now do you recognize that as badly as he probably wants to appear harsh, like the confident man he is on camera, you think he needs something else. Not just power, not just money or control. Not even just fucking.

You think…maybe, Sunghoon needs connection.

Intimacy.

And that’s proven when he does finally stand on his own buckled knees, pulling you up with him into a hug where he still kisses you. Up until he takes that shirt you unbuttoned and holds it between your legs, scratching the back of his neck with a shy glance at you.

“Sorry for the mess.” He echoes in a meek voice, holding that shirt firm against you. “Guess I just couldn’t help myself.”

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Days later, you find yourself in his bed. Which should have been expected probably. Still doesn’t change the fact that every few hours, you remind yourself the reality of the situation.

It’s not just any bed you’re in. It’s Sunghoon’s bed.

“Oh, right. The promotion.” Sunghoon suddenly calls out mid-episode.

You’ve been here with him all day. To the point neither of you bother to put on clothes now because you know the spark will come back at any given time and you’ll be all over each other again. Still, lazing in his bed with him on a Saturday afternoon is nice.

“I’ve been a bit occupied but– the interviews for the assistant position has been pushed back a bit due to you not coming to work. I was supposed to notify you when you got back, but you know, we had priorities–”

Sunghoon sighs, embarrassed. It’s nice actually, seeing him in his natural element. Allowing you to see him as more than just the guy that wears a suit and tie every day at work.

“Unrelated to us…doing this, but, you’re up for the interview. Just need to schedule it with me. If you still want to be my assistant, I mean.”

“Oh, I can only imagine what that could entail.”

Sunghoon seems offended by this remark as he pulls back with furrowed brows.

“Excuse me?”

“Did you fuck the last one too?” You give him a playful smile, prodding at his soft-skinned chest.

“Absolutely not?!”

“You’re still gonna fuck me too though, right? Even if I’m constantly having to nag you for signatures and meetings?”

Sunghoon stares at you before smiling.

“Well, let's see if you get the job anyway. Rhonda from Marketing is applying too.”

You lend a half-joke gag at him.

“Is it too forward to ask for special attention for the position along with a sexual favor?” You tread the thin line. “I’m half joking but wouldn’t it be like…normal for us to be seen around each other at work if I’m working a job that requires it?”

Sunghoon thinks hard.

“You’re really asking to fuck your way up the ladder?”

“Aren’t you the one who offered it so I wouldn’t tell your dirty little secret?” You narrow your eyes at him. “But no, I’m asking for the job I’ve been trying to earn for ages. Besides, I’d still fuck you anyway.”

“Fair.” Sunghoon thinks harder still. “Rhonda would probably find out too, if she were to get the position anyway, considering my assistants are often intertwined in my personal business as well.”

“Oh, I’m personal business now?”

“Babe, my hand has been on your tit for an hour now.”

Well, he’s not wrong.

“Rhonda is really close with HR too…” You trail off, feeling a bit anxious. “I think she’d hold it over both of us if she found out.”

“In all fairness, you’ve been considered for the job more than a few times the past few months. Rhonda only applied during your two week avoidance of me. The reason she’s even up for the position is because my boss thinks you’re too flaky.”

Oh, so you have a chance with or without putting his dick in your mouth again?

“Who else has applied?”

“Confidential.” Sunghoon shrugs. “I still have to follow company rules even if we’re breaking a few of them right now. What I can tell you is, over fifteen other candidates have already been phased out by me personally.”

You pause.

“Why?”

“Bad matches, mostly. Two of them have been caught talking shit about me through the company emails, and the others? Many outside applicants, all freshman college students with strict schedules.”

“Being my assistant is not an easy job, and even before all of this, you’ve practically been doing the job already, better than the current assistant I have.”

You damn fucking right you have.

“How many are still in the running?”

“Two.”

Oh, this job is soooooo yours.

“Just, one more thing.” Sunghoon sighs. “If you get this job, we cannot be fucking in my office. No sexual stuff at work. We can take lunch together, or I’ll bring you home after work, but absolutely nothing at work.”

Oh, he thinks you want him that badly?

“Who says I need to fuck you during work hours anyway? I know how to control myself.”

“It’s not you who I’m worried about.” Sunghoon looks away, biting the inside of his cheek.

“Yeah?” You smile. “You gonna be calling me into your office just to torture yourself?”

“Oh, absolutely.”

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

pls remember to leave feedback and reblog! :D love you!

#enhypen smut #park sunghoon smut #sunghoon smut #enha smut

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pawberri · 7 months ago

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The key problem with "proship vs anti" discourse is that the most extreme versions of each side, the ones who actually bother to identify with these labels, accepted each others worst takes as arguments they had to debate. "Fiction =/= reality" is, in practice, an absurdly reductionist, anti-intellectual, thought-terminating-cliche that dictates we can learn nothing about a person via art and that their fiction reflects no political or moral messaging worthy of critique. In response to this, the "puriteens" who are too young to possibly hope to articulate their discomfort, to untangle their position from what is often real trauma experienced online, simply argue "yes, fiction influences and reflects reality in a 1 to 1 capacity." They, and people who want to use the groundwork they laid to make bad-faith callouts, make bad arguments about how the action of engaging in problematic fiction is on equal ground to real life abuse, or is a clear indicator of interest in real life abuse. Both of these arguments are terrible, but each side seems to radicalize the other further and further into their own brands of anti-intellectual reactionary belief. "Proshippers" become libertarian absolutists about free speech and view all transgression as righteous and alternative and therefore leftist. They gain a reactionary nostalgia for the past, desiring a time when people didn't seem to care about the implications of art. "Antis" become authoritarian and hypervigilant for signs of moral decay, at their worst, willing to align themselves with government bodies that offer carceral solutions to the debate. They are willing to use harassment as a tool of punishment, which then leads to false accusations and a fear of openness that puts people at risk of being triggered via obfuscation. (That said, proshippers also take part in plenty of harassment.)

I will say that I believe both of these movements are equally sensitive to co-opting by right-wing forces. We see the authoritarian tendencies of anti culture in harassment campaigns and even the way Republican law makers co-opt "grooming." The proship/fic crowd has such extreme nostalgia for the past that I often see people align themselves with the cultures of 4chan or other happily right-wing websites. They so heavily reject the idea that a drawn sexual depiction of a child could reflect any desire that they are disinterested in analyzing what the motivation behind the depiction is. i.e If we track the history of lolicon in Japan we do find that is, yes, countercultural, but that counter culture is right wing, very misogynistic, and defensive of patriarchial Japanese culture as it is and was including its culture around rape and abuse. Plenty of fictional content works as radicalization material, and radicalization material needs to be ambiguous. There is a valid reason to be hesitant to trust people who consume this content, even if I do not believe most of them will ever be dangerous towards children. The mere presence of sexuality is not enough to make a movement left wing. This kind of thing can again be seen in right-wing libertarian movements in the US. (And even leftist movements can be bigoted and even "pro-pedophilia" or otherwise disinterested in social reform around abuse.)

Is all content with elements of age-play this way? No. But to me, that is why kink media deserves to be treated as art and analyzed, critiqued, treated seriously. It doesn't have to do anything to anyone to be worthy of a moral critique. Said moral critique just doesn't warrant harassment and cruelty and reactionary exaggerations of the person consuming said content.

Anyway, what's my point in saying all this? I don't know. I'm just begging you to tag your God damn content with specific tags instead of random and nebulous shit like "dead dove" or "dark content", and also begging you to stop harassing people who do tag their content so I don't have to guess what "dead dove" and "dark content" mean. No one will erase incest kink fics or people who feel sickened by the idea of them off this earth because we aren't god, but we could at least all be responsible about tagging, flagging, and age-gating our stuff.

#csa tw #long post #proship anti tw

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winwintea · 1 month ago

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that's okay

PAIRING ↬ academic rival!na jaemin x ace!female reader

TAGS ↬ fluff, romance, slight angst, academic rivals to lovers au, college au, fake dating au, jaemin = campus playboy, drunk decisions, art museum date, plushies because i want a plushie, jaemin is kinda whipped fr

SUMMARY ↬ you're determined to outshine your academic rival na jaemin, the campus heartthrob infamous for his frivolous reputation. but when a few too many drinks suddenly ropes you into a fake dating scheme with jaemin, you realize that there's much more to him than his playboy persona. can two opposites navigate a connection that’s anything but fake?

WORD COUNT ↬ 3.7k+

AUTHOR’S NOTE ↬ HAPPY BIRTHDAY @lotties-readings !! grinding this fic in a day was so fun. the 3 am brain creativity actually carried this time too. hope i did him justice 😭😭 SHOUTOUT TO THE ASEXUAL COMMUNITY I LOVE YALL <33 THIS ONE'S FOR YOU !!!!

PLAYLIST ↬ cooler than me - mike posner, anti-romantic - txt, are you satisfied? - marina, that's okay - d.o.

WHAT DID YOU EXPECT?

Na Jaemin. The Playboy. He’s probably slept with half of the school and the rumors are on and off with him. The college’s infamous frivolous playboy, a firm believer of the ‘hook up as much as you can before you find your soulmate!’ ideology. For some, it was oddly endearing. For you? Maddening. Because Na Jaemin wasn’t just a playboy. He was your rival. Jaemin just had this certain charm to him that attracted the masses. Everyone, including your friends, had had a crush on him at one point in their lives. Everyone except you. Despite his supposedly carefree attitude, he always ranked #1. And you? Stuck perpetually at #2, clawing at his heels, only for him to breeze past like it was nothing. If it were anyone else, maybe you wouldn’t care so much. But no—it had to be him.

You swore to steer clear of him. No parties, no flirtations, and certainly no personal involvement. That resolve lasted until one ill-advised college party, where Jaemin, drunk and absurdly charismatic, roped you into the lead role of his most ridiculous performance yet: his fake significant other. And you were equally as drunk to play along with it, nodding in the face of his ex-girlfriend as she looked at the both of you in disbelief. For a playboy like Jaemin, you thought he was managing to control his dating life better than this. But you guess he just got bored of being surrounded by love. “Just go with it,” he’d said. You hadn’t thought it would last beyond that night.

You were wrong.

You suppose it’s partly your own fault finding yourself in your current situation, considering the recent events. In a world where everyone is busy chasing after time, enjoying the dating scene, you’re an outcast. An outcast with false modesty to trick people’s curiosity. You should be used to them by now, their comments about you not being interested in relationships. And even though you do feel fed up with it, the thought of lying about dating someone just so they can shut up never crossed your mind.

“Remind me again why I have to spend the whole day being your pretend partner.” you say, glaring as Jaemin hands you a pastry. “The party doesn’t start until 10PM tonight!”

“Here you go, love. Be careful, it’s hot!” he says, completely ignoring your question. He resumes walking, hands in his pockets, as if this was the most normal thing in the world, resuming your slow stroll in the garden of a nearby art museum. You hurriedly take it from his hands if that would make him finally pay attention to your question.

“I know it’s hot,” you mutter, taking the pastry anyway. He’s insufferable. Even now, you can tell he’s doing this for show, making a big deal out of playing the doting boyfriend for the strangers milling about the museum garden. “Do you ever actually answer questions, or is that too much to ask?”

“Oh, I answer,” he breezily responds, unfolding a crumpled checklist from his coat pocket. “I’m just selective about when. Do you want to taste mine? I can taste yours too.”

“No thank you.”

Straightening the lapels of his gray coat, Jaemin fetches the brochure handed earlier to him out of his inner pocket and takes a quick look at it to make sure you checked out everything of interest in the area before entering the museum itself. “Now, do you want to check out the sculptures before we head to the main exhibit?”

The guy has a whole checklist of activities for the day. You’ve seen it. He purposely taped another page underneath just to scare you with its sheer length, but you’re seeing right through his tricks, the page is full of gibberish written just to take space. You’ve got your best frown on to keep the illusion of ignorance, hoping that you’d get bonus points for agreeing to go through the full contents of the list, both the real and the fake ones.

But is it really an act? The occasional tidbits of satisfaction coming from beating Jaemin’s brilliant mind (not that you’d ever give him the credit for it) are hardly enough to keep you entertained throughout the day. When the activities you take on today are meant to be just that, entertaining. And romantic too.

Now, were you a normal couple, a true couple, then maybe you’d be having fun now.

“Jaemin, I think partners are supposed to listen to each other. At the very least.”

He grins, entirely unbothered by your irritation. “Relax, Y/N. We’re supposed to look like we’re having fun. Couples don’t bicker this much in public, you know.”

“Maybe because real couples actually like each other.”

“And yet,” he says, slinging an arm around your shoulders, “Here we are. The picture of romance.” Ah. He’s right, damn it.

“I only lowered my guard because these people don’t know us, stupid… Let’s get inside already!”

Hearing his low, annoying chuckle triggers the sensory neurons in your brain until a neat little image of his smirk is produced with near-perfect accuracy. Have you simply seen it too many times? There’s no escape even when you turn your back to him, great.

You grit your teeth but let him guide you down a quieter path, away from the crowds. It’s all part of the act, you remind yourself. Just one day of playing along, and people will stop speculating about your personal life. Totally worth it.

Right?

Inside the museum, the tension eases slightly. The museum is magnificent to explore with the many pieces of art it houses. There’s so much to see that you’d frankly not mind getting lost in here just to have an excuse to spend more time surrounded by art.

You have to admit, Jaemin chose the perfect dating spot. You’re not sure if it was based on your own preferences. Surely not. But you find yourself not minding it suddenly.

“Picture!” he announces, pulling you close before you can protest.

Hearing the signal, you instantly turn in the direction of the raised-up phone, smiling for the camera as Jaemin presses his face closer to yours.

“Oh, this is a good one, I’m definitely posting it. You look so in love.”

“I’m in love with this work, that’s it.” you say flatly, staring at the painting behind him.

“Uh-uh. That works for me too.” Jaemin replies while his fingers dance across the screen, likely typing some cheesy caption for the picture. A second later your own phone vibrates in your pocket, signaling that he posted the picture and tagged you in it, and you don’t even bother looking.

“At least you’re a natural, Jaemin.”

“What, in faking an expression? How are you so sure?”

You blink, meeting his gaze as some child holding a balloon separates the two of you for a mere second. Instinctively, you shorten the distance so you don’t lose Jaemin, looking for his hand to take hold of. You’ve already been through that today, linking hands in the crowds. And while there was no real need to do that right now, you just did that…

To the question in your eyes evoked from his last words, he smirks and adds, “There are pieces of art here that I look at with fondness just like you do.”

Your heart sinks for a moment, only to create palpitations that mess with your head. You have no idea where they came from or what evoked this feeling in your chest, but while looking anywhere but at Jaemin, your gaze falls on other couples passing by. You were instructed to watch them if you’re having trouble recreating the subtle romantic gestures that indicate dating. Advice from him no doubt, one that you wish you could forget because it’s too late telling your brain to forget what it’s been taught. But the question is, why the sudden turning of stomachs at the sight of them?

While failing to watch your step, you lose your balance and stumble on your own feet, meeting the hard ground hands-first. You feel eyes on you for a short moment; just a mere second any stranger might spare to witness the unfortunate event before moving on with their tour.

That’s it, except for Jaemin, who is there to pull you up in a manner of utmost care, dusting off your clothes, taking you to a more secluded area with benches to rest on and asking you at least three times if you’re alright before you can snap out of your surprised state and let out a murmur of affirmation.

In the whirlwind of emotions rushing through your slightly clouded mind, you put the embarrassment of your fall aside. As Jaemin turns your hand around to inspect it, you realize that no amount of hand-holding numbs your reaction to the touch of his warm hands.

And no amount of his exaggerated lovey-dovey gestures of affection could prepare you for the look of genuine worry over something so insignificant on his face.

“You fell on your hands, they must be scrapped… let’s get them under cold water, it would wash away the dirt too.”

“It’s okay I can do it myself.” You back away from Jaemin, running to take care of it.

And that’s when you realize it.

Pretending to be Jaemin’s partner might be the biggest mistake of your life.

Because it’s starting to feel a little too real.

When you exit the bathroom, Jaemin is waiting for you outside, arms crossed with an unreadable expression on his face. The two of you continue your museum date as normal, nothing out of the ordinary happening other than Jaemin just being Jaemin.

When lunchtime rolls around, Jaemin takes you into the museum café, refusing to let you pay for anything even though he bought the museum tickets as well. Struggle as much as you want, Jaemin was pretty stubborn.

You and Jaemin sit across from each other, nursing cups of hot chocolate. The quiet buzz of conversation around you blends with the faint classical music playing overhead, the calmness contrasting your otherwise chaotic day.

You’re still nursing your wounded pride (and scraped hands) from earlier. Jaemin’s fussing had been embarrassing, sure, but also... oddly touching. It’s been messing with your head ever since.

“You’re being quiet,” Jaemin says, breaking the silence. He stirs his drink and watches you with another unreadable expression. “Not complaining. Unusual for you.”

“Just tired,” you mutter, avoiding his gaze. “This whole thing is exhausting.”

“Yeah?” He leans back, “What part? The fake dating, or me?”

“Both.”

His laugh is soft, almost self-deprecating. “Fair.”

A moment passes, and you realize he’s studying you. Not with his usual playful smirk, but something more serious. It’s unsettling and scary, like he’s peeling back layers you didn’t even know you had.

“You know,” he starts, voice quieter now, “you’ve always hated me.”

Your head snaps up. “What? I don’t—”

“Don’t lie. I noticed.” he cuts in, but there’s no malice in his tone. “It’s fine. I get it. I mean, I’m Na Jaemin, right? The playboy. The guy who’s ‘probably slept with half the school.’” He uses his fingers to air quote the phrase, lips forming a bitter smile. “That’s what people say, isn’t it?”

You feel a pang of guilt. It’s exactly what you’ve always thought, always assumed about him.

He continues, eyes fixed on his drink. “Funny thing is, that wasn’t true at first. I wasn’t like this in high school. Sure, I was flirty, but it was harmless, y’know? Then one day, someone started a rumor about me. Said I hooked up with some senior at a party.” He shrugs. “It wasn’t true, but people believed it. And once the rumors started, they didn’t stop. Girls came up to me and I just... didn’t say no.”

You blink, caught off guard by the honesty in his voice. “Why didn’t you?”

“Why not?” His smile not breaking, “They already thought I was that guy. And honestly? It was easier to play the part than fight it. People liked the idea of me being the ‘fun, no-strings-attached’ guy. I became what they wanted.”

You’re quiet, the weight of his words settling heavily in your chest. All this time, you’d judged him without really knowing him. And now, sitting across from him, you realize how wrong you’d been.

“I’m sorry,” you say, the words slipping out before you can stop them.

“For what?”

“For... hating you, I guess. I just—” You hesitate, fidgeting with the edge of your sleeve, searching for the right words. “I’ve never liked the whole ‘playboy’ thing. It feels... shallow. And I don’t understand how people can be so casual about it.”

Jaemin’s gaze softens. “That’s because it’s not your thing. And that’s okay.”

Your eyes lit up with shock. You definitely weren’t expecting Jaemin to be this receptive towards your criticisms of him. “I guess I’ve always judged people like you because I don’t... get it. Sex and dating just seem so complicated and messy. I don’t want anything to do with it.”

Jaemin tilts his head, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. “You’re ace, right?”

You nod, surprised he remembered. He must’ve heard it somewhere, you barely told anyone except for your close friends. Others just assumed, which was fine by you.

“That’s... honestly kind of cool,” he says, leaning forward. “I mean it. You don’t have to deal with all this shit. Expectations, drama, people using you for what they want. You just... are. I envy that.”

“You do?” The idea feels absurd. Jaemin, envying you?

“Yeah.” He smiles, but there’s a hint of sadness in it. “I’ve spent so much time being what other people expect. Sometimes I don’t even know who I really am. But you? You’re just you. That’s... rare.”

His words catch you off guard, leaving a strange ache in your chest. You wonder if he’s just been hiding behind a mask this whole time. Who really was the Na Jaemin sitting right in front of you right now? “Well,” you say softly, “I think you’re more than what people say about you.”

He raises an eyebrow, the corners of his mouth twitching upward. “Careful, Y/N. That almost sounded like a compliment. You’re supposed to hate me.”

“Don’t let it go to your head,” you shoot back, but there’s no hostility in your tone.

For the first time, you see him for who he really is. Not Na Jaemin, the playboy, your rival… but just... Jaemin. And maybe, just maybe, you don’t hate him as much as you thought.

When the two of you finished your museum exploration, you found yourselves in the gift shop. The aisles were packed with trinkets, books, and stuffed animals, the kind of things that were charming but utterly unnecessary and overly expensive. You didn’t plan on buying anything, but Jaemin insisted he wanted to pick up something for a friend.

Shivering slightly, you rubbed your arms, trying to warm up in the chill from the air conditioning blowing down from the vent above.

“Cold?” Jaemin asked, his sharp eyes catching your sudden movement.

“Oh, just the A/C,” you replied quickly, waving him off, but you couldn’t stop the flush creeping over your cheeks.

“Do you want my coat?” He was already starting to remove his gray jacket, but you held up a hand.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” you said hastily. “It’ll be warmer outside.”

Jaemin paused, then smirked. “Aren’t you glad your friends dragged you to that party?” He asked, standing right beside you now, picking up a penguin from the stuffed animal bin. “Isn’t he cute?”

“Absolutely not,” you said, laughing despite yourself. “Though I’ll admit, this has been... fun. Even if the ‘fake dating’ part threw me for a loop. And yes, he’s super cute. But penguins aren’t my favorite.”

He raised an eyebrow, eyes burning into you, as he turned the penguin over in his hands. “Who said it was fake?”

You blinked at him, unsure if you’d heard right. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He didn’t answer, just hummed and walked away, leaving you standing there with your arms crossed, frowning after him. What’s he playing at?

Trying to shake off the odd tension, you wandered to another shelf and found yourself staring at a tower of cell phone plushies. Your eyes landed on a bunny plush, adorable, with floppy ears, sparkling blue eyes, and a pink nose. You reached for it, but so did another hand.

“Oops—sorry,” you stammered, looking up to see Jaemin standing beside you again.

“Oh,” he said, his voice light, but his eyes were unreadable.

“I was just—”

“Which one did you want?” he asked, his tone suddenly serious.

“The bunny,” you admitted, pointing. “But it’s the last one, and if you wanted it—”

Before you could finish, he grabbed it.

“Actually, I did,” he said, pulling out his wallet and heading to the cashier.

You stood there, stunned and a little annoyed. Seriously? He’s that kind of guy?

As you stared forlornly at the remaining plushies: a raccoon, a squirrel, and a cat that weren’t nearly as cute. You sighed. It’s fine. It’s just a toy. But somehow, it still stung.

“Here.”

You turned to see Jaemin dangling the bunny plush in front of you, a playful grin on his face. “You—I thought you wanted it?” you said as you reached out to take it. The plush felt even softer than it looked.

“I did,” he said with a wink. “But I wanted to buy it for you.”

“I—thank you.” You stumbled over your words, suddenly feeling silly but also oddly happy. A big, goofy grin spread across your face as you hugged the bunny to your chest.

Jaemin chuckled softly. “You’re cute when you’re flustered, you know that?”

“Shut up,” you fired back, but your cheeks still burned.

You started to turn away, but Jaemin stopped you with a gentle tug on your sleeve. His expression was different now, serious, almost nervous, as he looked at you.

“Y/N,” he began, his voice quieter. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

Your stomach flipped. “What is it?”

“This... whole fake dating thing?” He rubbed the back of his neck, looking almost shy. That was strange in comparison to his usual confidence. “It wasn’t just about my ex, or shutting people up. I—I’ve been watching you for a while. I mean, not in a creepy way,” he added quickly, a faint blush creeping up his neck. “I just... I’ve always been interested in you. You’re smart, funny, and you don’t care about impressing anyone. You’re... different. In a good way.”

Oh you weren’t expecting that. You stared at him, your heart pounding in your chest. “Jaemin, I—”

“I know you have concerns,” he said, cutting you off gently. “About... your sexuality, and what people might think. But I don’t care about any of that. I don’t care what the world expects or what people say. I care about you. And I’m not asking you to change or be anything other than yourself. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

His words hung in the air, heavy with sincerity. You didn’t know what to say. You’d spent so long assuming Jaemin was just a shallow playboy, someone who could never understand you. But now, looking into his eyes, you realized how wrong you’d been. Jaemin understood you way too well. Enough to the point where he was hitting all the right points of reassurance in your heart.

“I don’t know if I can be what you’re looking for,” you whispered.

He smiled softly. “You already are.”

For a moment, the world around you faded. The noise of the gift shop, the bustle of other shoppers. It was just you and Jaemin, and the quiet, fragile connection that had grown between you.

Maybe this wasn’t fake after all.

You realized just how much he’d been hiding. Jaemin, the playboy everyone admired, the guy who never seemed to take anything seriously, was opening up to you in a way that was raw, even vulnerable.

“Honestly?” you whispered, clutching the bunny plush to your chest. “I never thought someone like you would understand... someone like me.”

He chuckled softly, the sound warm and reassuring. “I get that. I probably don’t fit the part, huh? But, Y/N, you’re incredible just as you are. I think it’s amazing that you know what you want and what you don’t want. I wish I’d figured that out sooner.”

You looked down, feeling way too emotional, “So, you really don’t... mind?”

Jaemin shook his head, his smile was gentle. “Not even a little. I’m here because I like you for who you are. You don’t need to be anyone else or change anything about yourself. I’m fully willing to love you. Just like this.”

His words settled over you, as warm and comforting as his coat might have been. The insecurities you’d held about relationships, about your identity, all the ways you feared you might not be enough for someone. Maybe never even find someone at all? They began to melt, replaced by a quiet sense of peace.

“So... if this isn’t fake, does that mean this is... this date is… real?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jaemin smiled, reaching down to take your hand, his fingers intertwined with yours in a way that felt so natural it sent a shiver down your spine. “It’s as real as you want it to be. No pressure, no expectations. Just us, figuring this out together.”

Looking up at him, you felt something you hadn’t quite felt before. This wasn’t about conforming to anyone’s idea of love or romance. It was about connection. And standing there, surrounded by stuffed animals and museum souvenirs, you felt like you’d found something rare.

You squeezed his hand, a small smile breaking across your face. “Alright, Jaemin. Let’s give this a try. Just... don’t go stealing all the last plushies every time we’re out together, okay?”

He laughed, his grin brightening at your words. “Only if you agree to keep that bunny plush with you as a reminder.”

“Of what?”

“Of this moment. And of the fact that someone finds you absolutely perfect, exactly as you are.”

The two of you walked out of the gift shop hand in hand, leaving behind any doubts and stepping into something perfectly real.

PERM TAGLIST ↬ @lyvhie @aquaphoenixz @galacticnct @ldh0000 @polarisjisung

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dyns33 · 2 months ago

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Family protection

I missed Alfie during Flufftober, I'm not going to lie, even if it was fun

Thomas Shelby was preoccupied.

No, if he was honest, Thomas was just as terrified and furious at that moment, hurt inside, ready to devastate everything in his path, like every time he was told that a member of his family had been targeted.

It had perhaps been a mistake on his part to believe that it was not necessary to monitor Y/N after her marriage. Solomons' men took care of that.

So, when John had called him in a panic, saying that there were rumors about the kidnapping, or even the murder of their sister, he had at first remained frozen at his desk.

Since Polly had brought her back, this little girl from another mother, also abandoned by their fucking so called father, he had loved her. Maybe even more than the others.

The child was adorable. Shy at first, then smiling, with a crystal-clear laugh, asking for cuddles from her brothers, playing with dolls with her sister, and always wanting to be with them.

Normally, boys didn't accept the presence of girls. Poor Ada knew something about that. But strangely, with Y/N, it was different. Neither he, nor John, nor Arthur, could refuse her anything.

She came with them in the streets, in the countryside, in the trees. There were some limits of course, but he had shown her how to climb, jump, run. How to defend herself, if one strange day they weren't there.

Thomas confided things to her and her only when they were alone. The times he slept in the fields, she came to join him. That was often what pushed him to come home, because he didn't want her to catch her death. She stayed there, glued to him without saying anything, respecting his silence like no other member of his family, and for that, he ended up talking to her.

It was a false secret, that Y/N was his favorite. A secret that didn't bother anyone, since she was everyone's favorite.

So Thomas Shelby was preoccupied, because it was said that something had happened to his little sister, without anyone being able to clearly say what.

"She was in a bookstore." Arthur mumbled. "She goes there several times a month, to get books and read to the kids. They like it, she has a beautiful voice. After the session, she often has tea upstairs with the old owner. Men came in, beat up the employees and customers, before going upstairs. Then there was a fire. We don't know anything else."

"And Mr. Solomons ?"

"Haven't managed to reach him. His little assistant says he's… busy."

You'd think the same guys had come to Camden Town to destroy the King's Bakery. Because everything was in a pathetic state, and it was the doing of one man, who shouted orders from his office when he wasn't breaking anything that came his way.

If Thomas was preoccupied, Alfie had lost his mind.

During an important meeting with the Irish, he had let Ollie handle the business, and since the men had to be watched, it was a new kid who answered the phone.

He learned only two hours after his return that a woman had called. Not just any woman, his wife. Who was worried, because there were men in front of the bookstore, whom she didn't know.

She was smart, his wife. His tender Y/N, well raised by the Shelbys. Even if she was normally safe, she remained wary, thinking of looking behind or through the window, knowing all of her husband's employees.

The incompetents who followed her that day had been found with their throats slit in an alley.

Even though his patient was at his limit, Thomas let Alfie finish his tantrum, noting that he had left only the phone and the record player intact, which was playing opera to try to calm him down.

Y/N had disappeared for four hours now. He wouldn't calm down.

"They would have called, huh ? To give their fucking instructions. Or maybe they're scared, they know that my men, the most competent this time, and yours, are all over town, and that as soon as we know who did this, they'll be dead. But… If they don't have her… Tommy, if they don't have her, if she's in that still smoking pile of ashes… I'll burn everything."

"Arthur and John are going to find her."

"Yeah, huh ? You can sense it with your gypsy powers ? Your witch aunt read the cards and saw that my Y/N was healthy ?"

"Not now, Alfie."

Solomons growled, turning his office chair in anger and slamming it against the floor until it was all crumbs. It was only because it was his wife's family that he was acceptinf Thomas' presence.

And for his part, even though he wanted to blow his head off for not protecting his sister properly, Tommy sat there smoking his cigarette, remembering how it had felt to hold Grace in his arms.

When the phone rang, he stared at it for a moment, before looking at Alfie, frozen in the middle of the room, staring at the wall. He wondered if he hadn't heard, before realizing that the wandering Jew was afraid to answer.

It might have been the famous ransom demand, which would teach them that a lot of harm had been done to Y/N, and much more would come if they didn't do what the kidnappers wanted.

It might also have been the coroner, who had finished putting names on the bodies following the fire.

Slowly, Thomas put down his cigarette, before answering.

"… Tommy ?"

"… Y/N ?"

"Give me that !" ordered Alfie who immediately came back to life, snatching the phone from him before finding a softer voice. "Treacle ? Love ? Are you okay ? Where are you ?"

It turned out that despite the lack of practice, taking young Y/N into the woods to teach her how to climb, jump, play tightrope walkers and hide, had been a good thing.

Realizing that something was happening and since her husband was not reachable, she had climbed through the upstairs window on the courtyard side, hoisting herself up onto the roof, until she found a secluded spot to climb down.

Then, not knowing who to trust, she had stayed hidden until nightfall, to go to the closest and safest place from her position, which was her sister's house.

"Faster, Ismael !"

Thomas could have muttered that it would be better to get to Ada's alive, but he only clung to the door handle while the driver obeyed Mr. Solomons without worrying about pedestrians or other cars.

It was also useless to stop Alfie from jumping onto the sidewalk, forgetting his cane in the car to go and bang on the door like a madman until someone opened it.

Calm only returned when he laid eyes on Y/N, settled in the living room and already surrounded by all the other Shelbys who had been called after them.

"Treacle. Forgive me." he sobbed as he threw himself at her knees, his arms around her and his head against her stomach. "I was so worried, love, I thought I was going to die."

"Oh, Alfie. I'm sorry, I wanted to call you before but I didn't have access to a phone."

"I'm the worst husband. I didn't protect you. If my men weren't dead, I'd slit their throats myself."

"Let's try to talk about something happier." Thomas coughed as he approached, placing a hand on his sister's shoulder who smiled at him. "Did you hurt yourself jumping off the roof ?"

"No, I'm fine. Just a little tired."

"Strange clothes."

"Yes, love. You weren't wearing that this morning."

"Oh, I…" Y/N said, visibly embarrassed. "I may have "borrowed" a disguise. And money. And a car."

"She's our lil sis !" Arthur declared proudly, oblivious to the dark looks from his aunt, sister, brothers, and brother-in-law.

Maybe they had also shown young Y/N how to steal, but only once or twice, for fun, telling her that it was wrong, and that she would never need to do that because they would take care of her.

Alfie mumbled in Hebrew, which made her laugh. Probably insults without malice. He only let go of her to allow the others to kiss her before he took her back to their home, returning worse than a leech at the first opportunity.

When he proposed to add some of his men to Solomons' for her next outings, the king of Candem was at first outraged. He didn't bark only because his wife had already experienced a lot of emotions, but he would not let Thomas humiliate him.

However, in the middle of the night, certainly when Y/N was sleeping, Solomons contacted him.

"How many men, and what price ?"

"I'm the one who feels insulted now, Alfie. She's my sister, that will be the necessary number and for nothing at all."

"Hmm… You know, they all have something to say about you, your siblings. All of them, while you take care of them. I know it, I see it, but they are never happy. But not Y/N. No, my treacle has nothing but compliments for her big brothers, and you the first. Tommy this, Tommy that. She adores you."

"I adore her too."

"Hmm. Not as much as me, and so there will be fewer men than mine, but… I accept the offer."

"Glad we almost agree on something, Mr. Solomons."

He did not sleep that night, because Thomas Shelby was a preoccupied man by nature. By business, by his family, by the future and the past.

But as for his favorite little sister, he could have slept peacefully, knowing that her husband was there to ensure her happiness and protection as he had sworn during their marriage.

And if something were to happen, they would join forces, then Thomas would probably kill Alfie to punish him, if the madman didn't kill himself first to join Y/N whom he loved at least as much as her brother loved her.

#peaky blinders #alfie solomons #alfie solomons x reader #alfie solomons imagine #alfie solomons fanfiction #thomas shelby pov

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hunnylagoon · 11 months ago

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When I Was Your Girl

Stage Fright

Rockstar! Ellie Williams x pop star! Reader

‘Fame is a poison most would drink happily despite the warning of a slow and painful death’

Premise: You and fell in love as nobodies and fell out of love in the limelight. Now you are forced to deal with ghosts who haunt you like a melody.

Warnings: small mentions of drinking and drugs / wee bit of violence / Ellie is a dick

Fake albums mentioned: Solstice / Smokey Eyes

I've never been anything more than a joke.

I'm so childish they took it for maturity, and I'm so serious they took it for silly.

Even since I began my career, I was spotted at eighteen by a skeezy producer when I sold myself at a strip club to make ends meet, because dreaming never paid the bills. I wish that I had been found somewhere else, maybe one of the restaurants I sang at on karaoke nights or the park where I poured my soul into art through my uncle’s old acoustic guitar.

"How are you feeling right now?" A tanned woman with slick back hair shoves a microphone into my face while an emotionless man holds the camera. "I mean, seven years in the industry and you've just received your first Grammy nominations."

"I'm feeling kind of freaked out, to be honest," I face the woman with a sheepish smile on my face, trying the best I can not to look at the large camera lurking beside me.

"Rightfully," Her teeth are so white that they almost blind me and I get distracted by myself as I try to figure out whether they are veneers or not. "Do you think you'll be bringing any hardware home tonight?"

She moves the microphone back to my face and I flinch out of instinct, we both laugh for the camera but I can tell she's annoyed "Honestly, I'm just happy to be here, as corny as it sounds it is such an honour to be around so many incredible artists."

"So humble," She smiles then turns to the camera to address the viewers "I think we all know she's gonna be sleeping tonight with a golden gramophone under her pillow," She forces a laugh, trying to capture the raw essence of this overly manufactured moment. The interviewer turns back to me "Now, I know this isn't your first rodeo, is there anyone here you aren't looking forward to seeing, you don't have to name any names."

Fuck I hate these bloodsuckers. She is so obviously trying to milk my broken engagement which was still very much fresh. I uphold my false smile though and shake my head "Nope, if anything I think I'm looking forward to some mingling,"

She looks irritated, covering it up only by a close-lipped smile. "Well, then I'll let you get on with that."

I give her a curt wave and continue my way down the red carpet, maneuvering through other celebrities, we all have common ground, we are blinded by the flashing lights. I try my best to avoid any more journalists but I see Abby Anderson speaking to one and sneak up behind her, tapping her on the shoulder.

She turns around and greets me with a huge smile "I was wondering when I was gonna see you," Abby smiles and slings an arm around my shoulders looking to the journalist while I glance at the camera "I'm telling you, this girl needs to clear some space out on her trophy shelf."

I grin at her, genuinely. Abby had always been kind to me, we first met when I was nineteen and the both of us signed up for Atlantic Records. "She's just being nice," I say.

"And she's just being humble!" Abby squeezes me, it's a simple gesture but it means the world to me, it's her way of saying 'I got you'.

I shake my head "Abby is gonna be the real winner tonight."

The man holding a microphone in front of us smiles "We'll see who's right, my bet is both of you," He turns his attention to me directly "So I understand that you took a bit of a break after releasing your album, Solstice, is this considered your comeback?"

"Nope," I smile despite wanting to snatch the microphone from his hand and beat the camera with it until it shatters "There isn't anything to come back from."

He tilts his head giving the over-animated 'Are you serious?' look for whoever is watching. Every journalist was like a vampire trying to bleed me dry. The journalist, impeccably dressed in a tailored suit that exudes both sophistication and confidence searches his mind for another question "Well your album honestly was such a work of art and there has been talk that you are working on another one, is there anyone here that inspired any of those songs?"

"Nope."

"I think we should ask Ellie the same question," He laughs at his joke like it was funny.

"And I think we should be heading off now," Abby answers for me and guides me away from the barricade of reporters and journalists, away from the cameras prying into my soul.

As I walk along the red carpet, I don't bother to stop and pose for any more pictures, I pick up the long skirts of my dress and usher myself to weave between the other celebrities. I nearly turn my ankle and take a tumble, wow, sure glad that 30 photographers caught that moment.

I was drenched in a deep, enchanting shade of midnight blue, the gown captivated with its sleek silhouette. The magic shows in the intricate details that adorn the fabric, reminiscent of the cosmos itself. Delicate embroidery of constellations graces the entire dress, forming a celestial tapestry that seems to come alive under the harsh shine of lights. The celestial patterns are meticulously sewn into the fabric, resembling a night sky filled with stars and constellations, creating an ethereal and otherworldly charm. Paired with the constellation dress, I wear a diamond choker and matching teardrop earrings.

I had lost Abby at some point in my little runaway leaving me to get into the auditorium where the award ceremony is to take place.

Nearly the very second I walk in I hear a man yell my name, he is seated in the second row and it takes an awkwardly long amount of time for him to jog over to me. "Hey, kid!" He grins, hugging me, I don't hug him in return, I just freeze. It was Graham Wilson, I could smell the liquor on his breath.

Graham Wilson was a man who used to write very successful rock songs in his twenties with his band (the majority now deceased), he was nearing his sixties and was the definition of a has-been. I remember when I was a kid and I would listen to him on my iPod; though in recent days he's become known for ridiculous stunts, DUIs and homophobic tweets, even better known for how he found out I was gay and announced that he was no longer homophobic because, in his words 'Those gays can sure write good music' and then thanked me in his tweet, even tagging my account.

His frame carries the weight of a bygone era, specifically his beer belly. His once-lustrous, shoulder-length hair has succumbed to streaks of gray, hanging limply around his face like faded echoes of a rebellious past. Despite the passage of time, a few remnants of the rockstar allure linger - a faint scar above his right eyebrow, a reminder of a wild night in an underground club, and the subtle tattoos peeking out from under the sleeves of his wrinkled suit jacket.

"Hey, Graham," I give him a tight-lipped smile out of courtesy, in no means do I wish to talk to him.

"You better win best album tonight," He gives me a hard slap on the back. Every time I see him he acts like we're friends just because he was a judge on a singing reality show that I was on seven years prior.

"I'll try my best," I try to excuse myself but he speaks again.

"I said seven years ago when I saw you on that stage that you were gonna be a star so don't let me down," He points a finger at me and gives me a weird smirk. When he smirks I almost think he's having a stroke until he starts to laugh and reveals his rows of teeth that are beginning to rot from his not-so-subtle drug abuse.

"Okay," I give him a nod and a quick wave goodbye to sneak away and pretend that I didn't converse with him. It seems like I'm early to take my seat, people are still piling in and being ushered to their spots, and seat fillers are standing around sheepishly while they try to take discreet photos of celebrities.

My seat is on the end of row two, right on the aisle, I feel myself split into a grin. If you weren't aware, Who sits where is a major status symbol. And though awards show organizers may deny it, it's awfully convenient to be sitting in the front row or on the aisle if you're about to accept a ton of trophies.

I was shaking with nerves, I got nominated three times and maybe there was hope that I would win at least one category.

When I saw Ellie I almost wanted to hide my face, she walked in with a new girl she slung her arm around, Jesse, Dina, and Cat in tow. I'm thankful to see that they're sitting front row of the opposite section of me and have yet to notice me.

I'm not sure if you have ever fallen in love, dated, gone on tour, moved in together, adopted a dog, written a couple of songs, got engaged, then broken up with someone and had the entire thing be documented publically but it's not the best feeling when you have to be in the same room as them again.

Everything with Ellie used to be so perfect.

The first thing I ever noticed about her were her eyes, her sad eyes. She looked like a puppy that had been kicked around for far too long; neglected and mistreated by whoever was cruel enough to show her such torment. Her eyebrows furrowed like each thought running through her head was a worry.

It's hard to look at her now, I know this girl inside out but we are strangers.

I liked to pretend that the beautiful girl she was with was just there for show but I knew it was untrue when I saw her snake her hand around her waist just like she did to me. She runs through girls like they're cigarettes, she uses them until they burn out or she grows sick of them.

Two years ago at this very same award show, Ellie accepted Song of the Year for the song she wrote about me, 'Everlong'. She had even invited me on stage during her speech and announced to the world how in love she was with me.

If only I knew I could come to hate someone I used to love to death.

My hate was only solidified when Ellie and the Ashmen dropped their most recent album titled 'Smokey Eyes' just three months after our broken engagement. The entire album was about me and dear god it almost ruined my career.

Ellie had managed to paint me in a horrible light that made me seem like the scum of the earth. She wrote about me having substance issues and overall just sang happily about how much she despised me. Her song 'Me vs Your Friends' wrecked me. After speculation began over that song online, her fans decided that they loathed me just the same as Ellie did; this meant that I was doxxed, sent death threats, had my home broken into, and forced to move.

She wasn't the slightest bit sorry.

I spent the award ceremony dazed out, to be truthful, these types of events were boring. They dragged on for ages and you had to sit through the same generic speeches over and over again of people thanking their parents and producers, I hated both of those.

I watched as Amelia Swan walked on stage, she was a nepotism baby, the daughter of some big-shot director and beautiful all the same. In the glittering spotlight of the grand award show stage, a vision of elegance takes center stage as the next announcer for the evening. A beautiful woman, her porcelain skin seemingly kissed by moonlight, graces the audience with a timeless allure. Her dark, cascading hair frames her face in a sleek, sophisticated manner, accentuating the delicate features that radiate a captivating charm.

Draped in a resplendent pink gown, the fabric sits tight against her slim body. The gown is a masterpiece of design. Its silhouette accentuates her figure with tasteful precision, while the soft hue of pink complements her fair complexion.

"Hello!" She smiles and the crowd begins to cheer "I'm going to cut to the chase because I know all of you are as excited to find out the winner as I am."

Amelia begins to go through the nominees, my breath hitches in my throat when she says my name, though I play it cool the best I can and smile softly when the camera zooms in on me in the crowd.

Her eyes, framed by carefully styled lashes and a hint of rosy eyeshadow, exude warmth and confidence. Lips adorned with a subtle shade of pink curve into a welcoming smile, inviting the audience to share in the excitement of the announcement.

"The winner of Album of the Year is..." I could've sworn I nearly passed out when Amelia said my name.

Nothing felt real, it was like I was living the dreams that I made up when I was a little girl staying up late in my uncles back yard, talking to the indigo sky and speaking to it with delusions of security and stardom.

I shake when I stand up from my chair. The person next to me hugs me and I don't even know who she is but I hug her in return.

Amelia gestures for me to join her on stage with a huge smile on her face. I make my way down the aisle and up the steps leading to the stage. Amelia handed the statue of the golden gramophone to me along with the microphone to give my speech.

At this moment, the stage is my kingdom "I didn't prepare anything because I honestly didn't think I would win but I'd like to thank my little sister, Marceline, and my late uncle, Richie, god rest his soul. Everything I've done leading me to this moment has been for them, every lyric, every night I'm up till dawn writing. Even though Richie can't be here in person, I carry a little piece of him with me everywhere I go, he's all around me, I see him in the songs I write, in the melody of an acoustic guitar, and in the faces of those gentle enough to show me kindness."

The audience applauds for me, even Ellie who stares me down bitterly. I had sung in front of thousands of people but it would never compare to this moment.

I wipe a tear away from my eye "I would also like to thank all of my fans, you guys are just the fucking best," I giggle through my crying "I feel like you've been sent down by Richie and Marceline I know you're watching me right now, please give my dog some love for me. Please know that I don't come from anything, I was born from dirt and dreams for something more than a ratty town in Canada."

I lived for the applause.

"I mean, I've always been good and never great so this means a lot to me-

Ameilia places a hand on my shoulder to stop me "There was a bit of a mix-up," She announces "I'm sorry, love, you didn't win," She says just to me, dark eyes full of remorse.

"What?" I almost think it's a sick joke.

Amelia holds the microphone to her face to be heard by the audience "I'm not joking," She shows the contents of a card to the crowd "The real winners for album of the year are Ellie and the Ashmen for their album Smokey Eyes." Gasps sound from the audience and I can only imagine what those watching from home are doing

The camera pans to where Ellie, Dina, Jesse, and Cat sit, Ellie is laughing; not laughing, cackling, it only grows and now she's laughing so hard she can barely breathe. Suddenly I didn't feel like I was king of the world, it felt like the desolation of a hangover had hit me in the span of 90 seconds.

Dina gives Ellie a harsh elbow to her bicep, telling her to be respectful. The four of them rise from their chairs and make their way up to the stage, where I stand, paralyzed.

"Congratulations," I give Ellie a tight-lipped smile and hand the award off to her.

She smiled smugly at me and took it "Thanks, smokey eyes," Ellie held the statue up to display it. Smokey eyes was a nickname she had given me when we first met since I always had dark circles she said they looked like smoke from a forest fire. I told you that album was about me. What made me more mad is that it was such a stupid fucking nickname.

My mouth goes dry, it tastes like salt and failure.

I take many steps back, trying to hide myself at the back of the stage while I watch the Ashmen bathe in the glory I thought was mine.

"I didn't prepare anything because I honestly didn't think I would win," Ellie begins to mock me "But I'd like to thank my best friends, Dina, Jesse, and Cat, I couldn't have done it without you," She motions at her band members beside her "But I also couldn't have done it without my dad, thank you, Joel, you're out there in the cheap seats but I fucking love you," She waves out into the crowds somewhere before handing the microphone off to Dina.

"I am so beyond grateful-

"No!" Someone yells from the ground and all attention turns to him "This is not fair!" Graham shouts, walking up the stairs. Everyone in the room looks at one another trying to figure out what is going on. Graham snatches the microphone from Dina "I'm proud of you four but listen."

Everyone is silent completely, no one is sure what to do so we let Graham continue.

"I met everyone on this stage seven years ago," He throws one arm out for dramatics "Except for Amelia, I don't know you," Graham is more dishevelled than he was when I saw him earlier that night "Let me tell all of you that Ellie was in love with this girl since the day they met!" Graham points at me, now things are getting weird, well weirder. “I know because I was there and you all saw it on TV!”

It was no secret that Ellie and I were together since we met on Road to Stardom, a singing reality show where people compete for-well, stardom. Every step of our relationship had been very public, not by choice but by unfortunate circumstances. It is for this reason I was afraid of what Graham would spout next.

"Without her, Smokey Eyes wouldn't have ever been written, Ellie would've had no inspiration for it," He babbles "But more so my point is, Solstice deserved to win, Smokey Eyes is mediocre at best!"

People in the audience look genuinely concerned, I spot Abby in the third row. She has one hand covering her mouth from pure shock, her eyebrows are furrowed and she almost looks like she's going to throw up.

"Solstice is the best album to listen to when you're high off salvia on your bathroom floor!" Graham points back at me.

I see Cat mutter something to Jesse along the lines of "He's not wrong."

"Smokey Eyes has three good songs and Solstice has thirteen!" Graham suddenly stops to turn and look at me, he grabs my wrist "Come up here and finish your speech," I shake my head no but he pulls me up anyway.

I freeze, petrified. My eyes are wide and my lips are pressed together in a thin line. I didn't know what to do. Why wasn't anyone doing anything?

Graham's head suddenly snaps from me to Ellie where he takes an intoxicated step closer to her "Give me that damn award, you don't deserve it, especially not after mocking the woman who inspired it!" He lunges for the statue, at first Ellie is stubborn and holds onto it tight.

After 30 seconds of Graham trying to pry the stature away, Ellie gives up and releases it, figuring it best not to fight with a drunk man; in doing so Graham's elbow flies back from sudden loss of resistance and hits me dead in my nose. I yelp out in pain bending over into a crouch and clutching my nose. Graham stumbles back and trips over me, though he is still holding on tight to the statue.

Jesse approaches him slowly. "Hey, man, It's me, I think we should all just settle down and talk this through," He tries to act cool but his eyes are full of worry "I agree, I think Solstice is a great album and it really deserved to win."

Graham clumsily rolled onto his stomach and then stumbled back onto his feet. He was staring Jesse down like this was the Wild West.

Dina rushed over to me to make sure I was okay "Let me see," She gingerly moved my hands away from my nose, it had been knocked crooked and blood was pouring down to my chest where it pooled at the neckline of my dark dress.

Graham chucked the golden gramophone at Cat who jumped back when he did so and took a swing at Jesse who didn't move an inch or even shudder from his drunken punch. It also didn't help Graham that he was a solid four inches shorter than Jesse. Just as Graham was hyping himself up to send another hit, two bulky men grabbed either of Graham's arms and dragged him off the stage and out of sight.

I went home that night with nothing more than a broken nose, and no award but I could rest knowing that night went down infamously in history. My blood dripped onto the stage of the Grammys.

That was the night I truly became famous.

Grade eight- Age thirteen

Middle school is hard.

Even harder when you have two friends, one of them is a guy who is obsessed with Star Wars and is hardly at school because he's always having an allergic reaction, and the other friend is my English teacher. I ate lunch in her class while he graded schoolwork on days that Milo was too sick to show up for school.

I never understood why kids are so fucking mean. Like sometimes I'm having a good day and then I remember when I sang at the middle school talent show.

Some kid who was destined to have a blunt in his hand finished doing tricks on his skateboard rolled off stage and it was my turn.

In the dimly lit auditorium, adorned with colourful decorations for the annual school talent show, I took center stage with my guitar, a blend of excitement and nervousness etched across my face. The hushed whispers of the audience faded as I strummed the first chords, the notes carrying the beginning to the first of many performances in my life

"If you gave me only one wish,

I wouldn't want to feel this way.

They told me I'd have your memory

But all I want is you to stay

And I can't stop my mind from haunting me,

It's like a scar on a butterfly's wing,

I wanted you to know."

I had worked tirelessly to perfect the lyrics to my first ever song, begging my uncle who was far more practiced for his input. This was way back when I still lived in fuck ass nowhere Alberta, I had that country twang in my high voice though it carried a specific tenderness.

"This beautiful pain that I feel is all because of you

And one day these bones will heal

And they'll leave me with the truth

And I'll give you everything if it's the last thing that I do.

This beautiful pain, this beautiful pain

This beautiful pain for you."

However, as I sang my little heart out, a different melody began to play in the background - the snickers and hushed comments of some classmates who couldn't appreciate the vulnerability I laid bare on the stage. Their laughter, like discordant notes in a once-harmonious piece, reverberated through the auditorium.

"If I sailed the world on stormy seas

Chasing sunlight that I can't see.

I was a dreamer here before,

Before I woke up and fell to the floor

And I'd climb to heaven if I could find you,

Even with a scar this butterfly flew.

I wanted you to know."

I spotted one group in particular, they hated me already and this would give them all the more reason to bully me.

"This beautiful pain that I feel is all because of you

And one day, these bones will heal

And they'll leave me with the truth

And I'll give you everything if it's the last thing that I do

This beautiful pain, this beautiful pain, this beautiful pain."

Maybe the lyrics were the slightest bit corny but I was thirteen and these girls were being little cunts. I bit back the tears I so clearly wanted to release when I saw a teacher had to walk over to the group of girls to stop their laughing. It wasn't just that one group though, kids scattered all over were fighting back giggles and that made it hurt all the worse.

"And all I'll ever need

And all I'll ever be,

Within every part of me is this,

This beautiful pain that I feel is all because of you

And one day these bones will heal

And leave me with the truth

And I'll give you everything 'cause it was all I ever knew.

This beautiful pain,

For you."

As the last note hung in the air, the room was divided. Some applauded, recognizing the authenticity of my performance, while others continued their derisive comments. So the majority who liked my singing were teachers, but that didn't matter, at least my music got through to someone.

The rest of the day was even more difficult than my three-minute performance, at least that was over quickly but the comments from Kennedy and her friends left me leaving school in tears.

I didn't go home that day, I walked the extra ten minutes to get to my uncle's house. Lugging my guitar and newfound hate for music with me. The façade, adorned with a mismatched collection of potted plants and a welcoming, hand-painted sign that read ‘Home Sweet Home’ hinted at my uncle's efforts to infuse joy into his surroundings. The paint on the wooden shutters might have faded, but they held stories of many seasons gone by. The roof, patched with a variety of materials, showed the resourcefulness of my uncle in their attempt to shield the interior from the whims of weather.

He tried to make the house look nice for me and my little sister. He was by no means rich in money but rich in what mattered, the love he had for me was overflowing.

It wasn't a particularly nice neighbourhood either, his house was small, with two bedrooms and a basement I wasn't allowed in. But every time I think of the chipped blue walls, I feel a warm sense of nostalgia run down my spine.

"Who's there?" I hear Uncle Richie call from the kitchen where he is cooking something.

"Just me," I yell back, dropping my guitar case on the ground and belly-flopping onto his old brown leather couch that had more tears in it than I could count; he had tried to stich some of them up with embroidery floss but ultimately gave up, deciding to let it be since he couldn't afford to replace it.

"Why aren't you at your mom's, Chickadee?"

"I don't wanna see Mom right now, she's gonna put me in an even worse mood," I call back grabbing the TV remote off of the water-damaged coffee table.

"What happened?"

"I don't wanna talk about it."

Minutes later Richie walks into the living room to join me, he carries a bowl of Kraft Mac and cheese with two forks shoved in it, he taps the bottom of my socked feet, signalling for me to move them so he can fit on the couch with me. Uncle Richie has a buzz cut and beard stubble that I have never seen him without, he has never been seen without a flannel on, not as long as I've been alive. What I remember the clearest about him though was the scar beneath his right eye, when I was younger he would tell me that he got it from a pirate though I stopped believing that. "So are you going to tell me why you're sulking?"

I ignore him and he reaches for the remote to turn the TV off "Hey, I watching that," I mutter.

"Well I'm waiting for you to answer me, Chickadee," He tilts his head "Or you won't get any kraft dinner."

"I sang at the talent show today."

"And?"

"Everyone made fun of me."

He furrows his eyebrows "Why would they do that?"

"Why do you think?" I snark "Because I'm not good enough and I'm a bad singer and I have a shit guitar." I immediately regret my words. Uncle Richie was the one who gave me that guitar, it was all he could manage with his income, it was his back when he had dreams of his own but he fixed it up so I could pick up where he left off. The guitar itself had a cracking between the face and the side that was being held together with duct tape, not to mention the whole thing was basically reinforced with superglue and there were Sharpie drabbles on it of poems and potential songs Richie started that I will be sure to finish.

"This is the best guitar in the world," He reaches behind the couch where I left it slugs the case onto his lap and opens it to showcase the guitar "Because it's full of something money can’t buy, there is love built into this guitar and every time you play it you feel that love."

"I don't feel love when I play," I say, eyes brimming with tears.

"Then you're not playing right," He smiles, discarding the case on the floor "Did you play the song I helped you write?"

I nod "Kennedy said it was worse than shoving nails into her ears and that my guitar was decrepit and even more fugly than I am."

"Well Kennedy is a little cunt," He answers "Don't tell anyone I said that." His words make me giggle. I watch him intently as he begins to strum some chords on the guitar, the beginning of Beautiful Pain, he stops when I don't sing the lyrics, glancing at me until the words finally fall from my lips.

After the first two Stanzas, he hands the guitar off to me, nodding his head along to my gentle strums.

When I finish the song and strike the last chord, Richie claps a huge smile on his face "Do you feel the love yet?"

"I dunno."

"Then play again," He says "Don't think about those bitchy little girls," His tone is dead serious "You just gave all of those people a free performance, in ten years they are going to be paying hundreds just to get a bad seat at one of your shows and they will buried so far in the back of your mind that you won't even remember their names or all of those awful words they say to you, the only words that will matter are the ones you sing."

"So what do I do?"

"Play music because you love it, it doesn't matter if it takes you anywhere or if it makes you any money. That's why you should play, play for love not greed."

Wordlessly I begin the song over again, blocking out the rest of the world while I softly sing the lyrics. I strum each cord perfectly, my singing to match. I will forever think back to this moment, this is where I can pinpoint the exact second I fell in love with music.

I wrap up the song and Richie speaks up "Do you still want to watch TV?"

I shake my head "Can you help me write another song?"

Sinjinisoverboard: I love love love the new single but does anyone else miss her debut era?????? I feel like she's sold out

woodmonkey92: Reply to Sinjinisoverboard╰┈➤ this is so true, I remember when she would sing in parks and she was actually happy just being herself

theend_is_n3ar: Reply to woodmonkey92╰┈➤ bruh you don't remember that, she was a nobody when she sang in parks plus she literally got heckled and ridiculed by her classmates so bad that she gave up on singing in public and almost gave up on music as a whole

user37768638493: Reply to sinjinisoverboard╰┈➤ as much as I love her it really seems like she's fallen off the rails

conner_stoll_it: She's not even the same person anymore. I fell in love her original music and who she was when she wrote it, then she signed with a record label now she's an in-genuine copy of every pop star.

Alina_b12: Reply to conner_stoll_it╰┈➤ you fell in love with her old music?? 💀💀💀 she wasn't even past 100 subscribers when she released her debut album and after she released she literally gained 11 listeners on Spotify to get a total of 24 so don't lie and say that you heard it before hearing her mainstream music

Luciaisdonewithlife: Reply to conner_stoll_it╰┈➤ Her old music was so relatable, she got famous and it’s kind of hard to relate to someone who's net worth is more money then I can even fathom

hazeinmorningcraze: Reply to Luciaisdonewithlife╰┈➤I think that's why it was so easy for everybody to side with Ellie during the breakup, Ellie kept true to who she is, her girlfriend however did not.

Luciaisdonewithlife: Reply to hazeinthemorningcraze╰┈➤*fiancé

hazeinthemorningcraze: Reply to Luciaisdonewithlife╰┈➤ ew don't remind me

maiya_onthec0ast: Reply to conner_stoll_it╰┈➤ We should remember that no one listened to her when she released her debut music. She said in an interview that before she signed with Atlantic Records she had 24 listeners and 76 subscribers. We only know who she is because of her mainstream music, you aren't better than anyone for needlessly hating on her.

stargirlthesequel: God who else misses the southern twang she used to have in her voice?

Vampire_empire2: Reply to stargirlthesequel╰┈➤LMAO acting like you know her is crazy

Aline_b12: Reply to stargirlthesequel╰┈➤parasocial relationships are really becoming apparent rn

thismightbeskylarwwhiteyo: It's soooooo annoying when people hate on Solstice for being mainstream like all Ashmen discography isn't top on charters since they dropped their first album

dancedancerev0lution: Reply to thismightbeskylarwwhiteyo╰┈➤I've been saying this! Ellie has been in the industry way longer, she's always had a big fan base, even when she was still a solo artist!

elliespurplemonster: Reply to thismightbeskylaarwwhiteyo╰┈➤ Ellie Williams on 🔝

call_urm0ther: Reply to elliespurplemonster╰┈➤ kys she treated her fiancé horribly

elliespurplemonster: Reply to call_urm0ther╰┈➤ how would you know that????? Were you there??????

follow_kendra88: Reply to call_urm0ther╰┈➤Ellie was the one who was treated horribly in that relationship, have you even listened to Smokey Eyes?

ellies_no2girl: Reply to call_urm0ther╰┈➤Ellie was so in love and just got used for fame 🥺💔

call_urm0ther: Reply to ellies_no2girl╰┈➤fuck off with your cringe ass emojis

sorryyileft___:You guys are so weird for saying Ellie was used by her ex for fame, they literally were on the same show at the same age at the same time and got thrown into the limelight at the same time, Ellie and the Ashmen just got more popular.

mybodyisacage: Reply to sorryyileft___╰┈➤Ellie had a bit of a YouTube presence before she was on Stardom, it wasn't a crazy number but it was a cult following and that's why she won Stardom, bc she had fans to begin with then gained even more after being on national television

elliespurplemonster: Reply to mybodyisacage╰┈➤She didn't win bc of following she won bc she's a good artist

mybodyisacage: Reply to elliespurplemonster╰┈➤I never said she wasn't

bodhi_van34: I thought the whole thing at the Grammy's was an act until I saw all those news articles about Graham Wilson getting arrested

carlyswarly: Reply to bodhi_van34╰┈➤They did a drug test when he got arrested and found coke in his system

may0mayyyo: Reply to carlyswarly╰┈➤A busboy who worked the event said that Graham was doing cocaine in the bathroom

body_van34: Reply to may0mayyyo╰┈➤ LMAO WTF

charlotte_5freakingdidit: EVERYONE IS TALKING ABOUT ELLIE WILLIAMS BEING MEAN TO HER EX BUT GRAHAM WILSON LITERALLY ASSAULTED A POPSTAR ON STAGE AND TRIED TO THROW HANDS WITH JESSE LMAO IM DIFFUSING

juliaa__stirling: The way Ellie was laughing when Amelia said she messed up the cards was so rude and immature. Her fans are insane for defending her. All of that just because her ex fiancé gave a speech about working hard, imagine how she felt after being so honest with everyone just for her to not actually win and think about how she feels now reading all of these posts.

botoxangel: Celebrities have feelings too, Amelia made a mistake she's probably embarrassed but not as embarrassed as that poor woman is for putting her soul into a speech just for her ex and all of her fan girls to ridicule her for a mistake that wasn't even hers.

karaleaah778: Reply to botoxangel╰┈➤exactly! And why are people blaming Amelia??? She was given the envelope by someone else, she genuinely thought her friend won.

carlosislost: Why is Graham even invited to these events?????????

katie_katelynsm1th: Reply to carlosislost╰┈➤Bc it's funny when he causes a scene

howto_nevrst0ppbeingsad: I know you guys think this Grammy situation is so funny but it's really not. Graham is clearly mentally ill, this is a cry for help.

elleryc3llery: Reply to howto_nevrst0ppbeingsad╰┈➤Dude it's hilarious

3emmettttt: Reply to howto_nevrst0ppbeing sad╰┈➤The way you're worried about the has been and not the girl whose nose he broke

allysaaaa663638: LMAO THE WAY SHE ACTUALLY THOUGHT SHE WON THE AWARD AND SHE DESERVED IT SHDBDBEGHWWBSV

jessicadacoolest: Ellie is so real for laughing bc I would've done the same tbh

hennyrumwine: Dumb bitch deserved to be hit lollllllll

4444carmencarmen4444: I love the Ashmen's music but I hate Ellie sm, I just feel like she's a fuck girl and she gives me very rude vibes. Like laughing at her ex and then mocking her heartfelt speech is INSANE anyways stream Solstice

sittingwaiting_wishing: I honestly have hated Ellie since the breakup, she's changed so much since then. She used to be funny now she's just mean.

carissaandher_h0ttakes: I still think it's kind of crazy that Dina and Jesse followed through with Ellie on Smokey Eyes because they were really close to her when she was engaged to Ellie, can't imagine how many ties that album severed

elliessmokeyeye: Reply to carissaandher_h0ttakes╰┈➤I think about this all the time! She was literally the god mother for Dina and Jesses kid

carissaandher_h0ttakes: Reply to elliessmokeyeye╰┈➤it make me think that she might've done something to them to make them hate her the way Ellie does, Ellie did say that she didn't write all of the songs for Smokey Eyes 🤔🤔🤔

"Do you see how this backlash doesn't look good for anyone?" My agent, Caroline asks after showing me several Twitter posts that are under the trending tag.

"Well, it's not really my fault."

"Nonetheless, I think It's time for a rebrand." She sets her phone face down and looks at me from across her desk "Do you remember when you went on tour with the Ashmen when you were around twenty-one?"

My eyes go wide, I'm already shaking my head "Please-

"This is an awful event that you can turn into an amazing opportunity and capitalize on it," The backdrop behind Caroline is almost blinding, it's an annoyingly hot LA day and I want nothing more than to be back in Canada and swimming in lakes with my little sister.

"Caroline, mentally I can't handle a tour with Ellie."

"Mentally, you're gonna have to," She says, getting stern "Your fans either hate each other or they love both of you and feel like their parents have divorced."

I know that I will argue with Caroline for the next hour and threaten to fire her but eventually, she will win, so until then I am preoccupied with thoughts of everything but Ellie, soaking in the last moments I will have until she envelopes my brain and suffocates me from the inside out.

I am sure that with Ellie, I will die before winter comes and I am doubtful that I will ever bloom again.

423 notes · View notes

matan4il · 7 months ago

Note

what do you, as an Israeli, think of Standing Together? asking entirely in good faith because I see things supporting them a lot, but it's always from American Jews and (no offense to us), I don't totally trust that we're informed enough to know what we're talking about and what their perspective and usefulness truly is in the way that someone who actually lives there would. so many orgs are untrustworthy or covertly antisemitic and it made me curious for your perspective. thank you for everything. <3

Hi Nonnie!

Sorry it took me a moment to reply, but I hope my answer can still help you!

As an idea, Standing Together is a movement that I should have been all for. They are pro-coexistence, and so am I. There's no doubt in my mind that Jews aren't going anywhere, and neither are Arabs, and we are all better off working together for a good future for all. Supposedly, that's ST's message, so they absolutely should be an organization that I would be all for.

BUT from everything I've experienced, the narrative that they adopted is way more one-sided than their official stance, they're closer to being anti-Israel than balanced, which makes them problematic for me. Especially when you look at the individual actions and statements of many of this movement's leaders, it's evident that coexistence to them comes at the expense of historical facts, as well as certain Jewish rights. Obviously, the leaders' personal positions influence the movement's stance and actions.

For example, in this interview from Nov 2023, a Jewish leader of the movement falsely calls Israel's 2014 operation in Gaza against Hamas, "a war against Gaza and its people" (brief summary: Hamas kidnapped and murdered three Jewish teenagers in Judea and Samaria, Israel launched Operation Brother's Keeper during which it arrested some of Hamas' terrorists in that area looking for intel on where those 3 kids were and what happened to them, Hamas fired rockets from Gaza at Israel to get its terrorists released and used terror tunnels, including ones that crossed the border from Gaza into Israel, to kill and kidnap our people. That's what Israel ended up fighting against in Operation Protective Edge), while an Arab leader of ST defines their way as one which rejects "maintaining violent military control over millions of people," but says nothing against the terrorism that's used against millions of Israelis and Jews.

In terms of the recent war, since Oct 7 they have come out calling for a ceasefire now very early on in the war (I can't remember when they started it, but I know by Dec 7, 2023 they'd already put out a vid calling to stop the war, when really the ground operation only started about a month earlier, before it could possibly achieve anything), meaning this call was undermining Israel's right (and duty!) to defend its citizens, and asking us to surrender our goals of returning all the hostages and destroying Hamas' rule (only the latter can prevent Hamas from fulfilling its promise to carry out more massacres of the type that started this war, and has claimed so many lives on both sides). Another thing you can see in that vid is ST participating in spreading the false narrative that Israel is intentionally starving the Gazans (you can see the same thing in this poster, which says in Hebrew, "Thou shalt not starve." It's a poster for humanitarian aid they were supposedly bringing into Gaza, as if the IDF would ever let anyone bring anything they want unchecked into a war zone, or as if the amount of aid a few Israeli cars could bring is more than the hundreds of trucks Israel has been allowing in, checked. ST's just posturing and spreading an anti-Israel libel). Helping to spread a libel against one side is NOT being pro-coexistence. Imagine if they were spreading a libel that all Gazans are Hamas terrorists, and took part in the massacre! I think it's clear that, even if it's not simple to tell them apart, there are people in Gaza who are complicit, and people who are uninvolved and innocent. So if ST were spreading such a libel against Gazans, I'd oppose them. I am not going to do less when ST is spreading a libel against my own people.

I hope one day they correct course, but I can't currently support them. Give me REAL solidarity between Jews and Arabs, which sees and recognizes the humanity of both, not a repeat of the de-humanization of Jews, and a surrender of Jewish rights to an anti-Jewish narrative. That's not real peace, it's not real coexistence, it's a return to the way that we Jews have had to live for centuries in exile: always dependent on the good will (or lack of it) of the majority under whose will we lived, forced to bend ourselves, our rights, our dignity, too often even our very lives, to our subjugators, in the hope (and without any guarantees) that they will show us some kindness.

Many of the movement's leaders have not only expressed themselves in a way that reflects an acceptance of the anti-Israeli narrative, and took one-sided positions I can't agree with, they also acted in ways that have left me feeling quite unsafe.

For example, one of ST's founders, Yeela Raanan, joined and supported the violent Palestinian riots on Israel's border with Gaza, organized by Hamas, meant to breach the border fence, which started in 2018. Today we know these riots were a part of Hamas' preparations for the Oct 7, 2023 massacre, as they were getting the IDF used to them coming closer and closer to the fence. TBH, those of us listening to the statements of Hamas' leaders, we didn't need to wait for the border to be breached in order to know that it would be a bloodbath if they succeed. Sinwar's promise that they will reap out the hearts of Israelis with spoons from our chests was enough. Also, the repeated use during these riots of flags and kites with swastikas was pretty telling. So yeah, I can't trust anyone who supported that.

The movement is also financially supported in part by funds, such as the New Israel Fund, which finances a lot of good causes, but also many anti-Israel ones, and the German fund Rosa Luxemburg Stiftung, which supports the antisemitic BDS movement (it's antisemitic first of all because one of its stated goals is to put an end to Israel as a Jewish state, another reason is their use of antisemitic tropes in characterizing the Jewish state).

The ironic thing is that, despite how imbalanced against Israel ST is, it was still the so-called pro-Palestinians who actually started a campaign to boycott the organization. Not because of anything specific ST said or did. It was simply for being an Israeli organization, showing the diversity of Israeli society, which is apparently bad 'coz it "normalizes" Israel's existence. That shows you the anti-Israel nature of this opposition, that no amount of willingness to cooperate with the de-humanization of Jews and erasure of our rights will ever be enough for people whose real motivation is antisemitism, that wishes to see an end to the Jewish state.

I hope this helps, Nonnie! Once more, my apologies for how long it's taken me to reply. Be well!

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

#israel #israeli #israel news #israel under attack #israel under fire #israelunderattack #terrorism #anti terrorism #antisemitism #hamas #antisemitic #antisemites #jews #jew #judaism #jumblr #frumblr #jewish #standing together

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abbyfmc · 6 months ago

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Yandere Emperor! x Female! Reader Phrases #2:

A/N: Continuation of the previous part.

-"When did I say you could go? I brought you here to cuddle you"- The yandere emperor will surely have summoned you one night to serve him, and seeing that you were trying to leave or looking for excuses to leave, he will have closed any door or window, or grabbed you by the wrist or another part of the body.

-"If you are in love with someone else, I will behead him without hesitation"- He is the yandere emperor, and he is capable of anything to have you by his side, including extreme physical punishments or the execution of your partner or fiancé.

-"You didn't know who was going to attack me or how, and yet you protected me that year and suffered great damage to your body. I really appreciate what you did and I want to make it up to you by letting you be my wife."- In a story about Yandere crown prince x maid reader, you probably served the yandere prince (who in the future would be the yandere emperor) closely, and due to the environment in which he lived, you had to watch his back many times, ending up being sometimes punished by other superiors and even tortured. The yandere prince KNOWS about your wounds and scars and now that he is an emperor, he tries to reward you.

-"I will take good care of you."- A more subtle and "kinder" way to make you understand that you will not leave the palace.

-"No matter what you are, you will still be mine. You can be my empress, my favorite consort or concubine; and if you want to be a servant, you will serve at my side, so your rank within this palace does not matter; you will NEVER escape from me."- Another stern warning from him. You are partly right; since if you are his empress, consort or concubine, you will have to continue serving or obeying him in everything. If you are a maid, he will purposely make you clean what he tells you, wash his clothes, follow him and take care of him; or he would put you to hard labor as punishment, until you beg him.

-"If someone dares to hurt you, I will punish the person responsible and their family."- Before, in an imperial family the issue of clans was very important and people like the empress, consorts and concubines were no exception (come on, not even the maids, guards or eunuchs were saved from it) and if they did something very bad, The emperor could punish them and their families or clans with whatever he wanted; from exile, loss of compensation and living conditions, to multiple executions.

-"Every item sent to (Y/n)'s palace must be meticulously checked."- The yandere emperor KNOWS that fights and intrigues occur in the harem that mostly end in murders, attempted murders, poisonings, accidents, false accusations and even attempted abortions by some concubines on others. He would do it with the excuse of protecting you and your possible child.

-"I can't wait to see you carry our children in your womb. That will unite us more, and make you more mine."- The yandere emperor wants to sleep with you and get you pregnant (if you are a woman), because he thinks that not only could a prince from your side be the future of the empire (or if it is a princess, he could form marital and political alliances), but He believes that with that you will not leave his side.

-"I feel delighted with every walk I take with you. Every talk, every laugh, every meal, every celebration and even when you sleep with me, I feel great; something I never experienced with anyone else."- The yandere emperor would love every moment with you; more preferably alone than in a group with his other imperial women.

-"Let these marks or scars be a clear warning in case you try to escape again."- The yandere emperor is strict with his rules, and the "no escape" rule is undoubtedly the strictest. Every time he sees you trying to escape he not only locks you up, but physically punishes you so that when you see the scars when you change or bathe, you have a memory of what will happen to you if you try to escape from him again.

-"I always collect every gift you give me, although there is one that I still fight for and that you still don't give me: your heart."- Yes, the emperor adored and appreciated either discreetly or indiscreetly each of your gifts; whether it was new clothes, new accessories, some painting on him, some sculpture, a show or simply personally playing an instrument for him. But he knows that you do it without love for him.

-"I promise you that I will take care of you and our son."- He would probably make you pregnant, and as soon as he found out he put you under all kinds of 24/7 care. He watched you all the time and had every gift, food, drink or medicine that came into your hands thoroughly checked.

-The end.

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miniteezez · 1 month ago

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To Be Loved, Is To Be Saved

Hongjoong x (fem)reader

WC:13.2k

Warnings:manipulation, fake religion, false gods, violence, abuse, harassment, creepy men, bad language, talk of trauma

Disclaimer: in no way am I trying to say that any /REAL/ religions are bad or hurtful in any way. This is purely fiction and something that I made up. Please do not take offence.

Synopsis: You stumble into Hongjoongs life, just as your own is getting too much. He’s everything you’ve been told is a sin. Turns out, it’s exactly what you need.

“And what can I do for you today pretty?” Those words stuck to your mind like hot glue. His nails tapped against the wooden counter, the ring finger painted a scratchy black. Snake bites were reflecting the dull lighting and moving with the way his lips pressed together. Taking a deep breath, you clasped your hands together and looked at the male anxiously.

“I’d like a lip piercing. Please.” You added on quickly, not wanting to seem rude. He hummed, dragging his finger along the price list and explaining each one. Though, you weren’t listening, fully mesmerised by the man before you. He was so different from anyone you knew. Arms inked up, hair split in two and rings adorning most of his fingers. Truly, you thought he was so cool. Noticing your look, he chuckled and leant forward.

“Where do you want it sweets?” Blushing heavily, you pointed to the left side of your lip. The man pulled out a form, handing you a pen to sign it. Once that was done, he gave it a stamp then looked at the time.

“Well, Wooyoung is just with a client right now. So, it’ll be about ten minutes.” He explained, pulling out a stand with different jewellery displayed.

“You can either get a ring or a stud. We have gold, silver or steel.” Looking over them closely, you felt yourself pouting slightly before standing straight again.

“Like yours…” he grinned at your response.

“Black steel hm? You have good taste, sweets.” Again, you blushed, quickly pulling your card out to pay.

“That’s just fifteen.” The man let you know, getting the card machine ready. Meanwhile, you were confused and, after taking another look at the price list, you frowned.

“What? No it should be more right?”

“Hm, can’t I give a pretty girl a discount?” He asked, tilting his head with a witty smile. You stood there, cheeks glowing in disbelief whilst he chuckled. Taking your card, he tapped it for you then flipped it quickly.

“So, (y/n)..” gaining the information of your name, he gave it back, “Like I said, it’ll be a minute, wooyoung takes forever.” He rolled his eyes playfully, muttering something about him being a flirt.

“What’s your name?” You questioned shyly, playing with the tips of your acrylic nails.

“Hongjoong.” He spoke, resting his elbows on the marbled, wooden surface. It suited him, you thought whilst checking the time on your phone.

“Wow, I haven’t seen a phone like that in years.” Hongjoong scoffed, observing its chipped screen. You shifted awkwardly, shoving it back into your bag.

“Yeah, it’s my dad’s old Nokia.” You admitted, leaving out the part that you had, in fact, taken it without permission. In fact, you were in the tattoo studio without permission. If your parents knew you were there, you’d be sent for a review by their pastor. And the thought of that made you shiver. Sensing something was off, hongjoong cleared his throat.

“You good, sweets?” All you did was give a brisk nod.

“I’m guessing your parents are quite old fashioned huh?” Pursing your lips, you shrugged slightly and subconsciously dug your nails into your palm.

“You could say that.” Truth be told, it wasn’t that at all. But you doubted a stranger wanted to know of your recent woes. A door opened to the left of you and out came a man with longer, black hair. He waved off a customer then turned to you expectantly. It must have been wooyoung, he looked almost too friendly. Before hongjoong could say anything, you looked at him almost scared.

“Could you do it?” Even though your voice was quiet, he heard you loud and clear. A smile grew on his face, as he instantly ducked under the counter.

“Woo, you hold the front. I got this.” He grinned again, earning a salut from wooyoung who moved to the desk. Placing his hand on your lower back, hongjoong lead you into the sterile room and locked it behind the both of you.

“If you could just hop up on there.” He motioned to the hospital style bed, covered by a fresh paper towel. The room smelt of a bleach like substance, the walls a stark white and a mirror on the back of the door. To the side, there was a basin, with a counter that hongjoong was busy getting everything ready on. Now you were trembling slightly, hoisting yourself onto the bed and letting your legs swing. Hongjoong had begun speaking, but you weren’t listening. All you could focus on, was the needle lying still in its packaging.

“-then you’ll feel…hey, (y/n)?” Seeing the look on your face, he stopped and turned to you. Gently, he took hold of your hand. You snapped your head in his direction, eyes wide and hardly blinking. He smiled softly.

“Nervous huh?” Again, you nod.

“I only have my ears pierced. Will it hurt?” Your voice was so low and quiet. It was obvious you were really scared of the needle. You just prayed he wouldn’t laugh at you. Instead, he simpered.

“It’s honestly just a scratch. Won’t hurt one bit.”

“You promise?” You asked doubtfully.

“I do. And hey, if it does, I’ll give you a hug ok?” Even though his deal was an odd one, you nod and shook his hand. He took his pen, tilting your chin and dotting the under part of your lip with precision. Catching your eye, he smiled warmly.

“How about you close your eyes?” He suggested and you shut them tightly almost instantly. It made him chuckle, carefully placing the clamp on your lip. Sensing it was about to happen, you felt yourself go stiff.

“Relax yourself for me pretty. That way it’ll be less painful okay?” Hongjoong explained, waiting for your shoulders to ease up. Taking a deep breath, you slowly relaxed.

“That’s it, good girl.” Your heart fluttered with his praise, hardly catching the way he was counting down. Then, suddenly, you felt a slight sting then, nothing. He was quick to push the jewellery through and step back.

“All done for you, sweetheart.” You slowly opened your eyes, looking in the mirror and smiling brightly. He was right, it didn’t hurt at all. Though, you were almost tempted to pretend it did. A hug did sound nice.

“Didn’t hurt right?” And there it was, his promising words. Turning to him, you decided against lying. He was probably only joking anyway.

“No it was fine…” you grinned, allowing him to help you off the table and out of the room.

“So uh, does that phone work enough to text?” hongjoong suddenly asked, smiling at your surprised face. Nodding quickly, you handed it to him and watched as he put his number in there.

“If you ever wanna hang out, I’m free at the weekends.” You blushed at his suggestion, humming in understanding. Once you had collected your ointment, You waved goodbye and braced yourself for what was to come at home.

———

It went exactly as you knew it would. Sitting in your bare room, you pulled your knees up to your chest and hugged them tightly. Your body shook slightly, heart pounding and ears pulsing from all the screaming. Throat now dry, you swallowed thickly and dugs your nails into the flesh of your legs. Why did they have to change so much? If it wasn’t for that stupid man, your parents would still be like their old selves. So loving and nurturing. Your father saw you as his pride and joy, his little girl. He’d take you to the moon and back if you needed. And your mother, your biggest supporter. There for you no matter what. But that was all gone now. Sniffling, your hand shook as you pulled out your phone and clicked down to your new contact. Ignoring your bloodied knuckles, you sat there for a good few minutes, trying to figure out what to text. Was there even any point in texting? Surely he didn’t want to be bothered. Then again, he obviously had given you his number for a reason. So, against your better judgement, you began typing.

You: thank you for doing my piercing today :)

Short and sweet, but a good start.

Hongjoong: I’m hoping this is (y/n) and not the greasy biker I gave a nose piercing to?

You: yes yes. It’s me, sorry.

Biting back a giggle, you mentally scolded yourself for not even dropping an introduction in there.

Hongjoong: it’s good to hear from you sweets, I was beginning to think you wouldn’t text.

Had he been waiting for you to message him? The thought made you blush, rushing to text back honestly.

You: sorry, I didn’t want to seem weird.

Hongjoong: weird? Why would it be? I’m very happy you did, has anyone seen your lip?

You: my parents.

Hongjoong: tough crowd I’m guessing?

You: yes.

Hongjoong: well, if it means anything to you, I think it looks really good on you.

Heat rushed to your cheeks, eyes scanning the message repeatedly. A giggle slipped past your lips, hardly noticing you hadn’t replied.

Hongjoong: hope I haven’t scared you off.

You: oh no I’m sorry! Thank you :)

Hongjoong: no need to thank me sweets ▪️

Your brows furrowed as you stared at the block square, seemingly punctuating his sentence.

You: what’s that square?

Hongjoong: oh yeah, I forgot your phone was from the Middle Ages. It’s an emoji.

You: hey! It’s not that old!

Hongjoong: you’re cute.

Again, you blushed a smile gracing your lips. No one had ever been so nice to you, not for a long time. It warmed your heart. But on the other hand, you could hardly fathom that any of them were true. Maybe he was just messing with you? Though, he seemed so genuine.

Hongjoong: I was wondering if you’re busy on Saturday?

Glancing at the grey, pixilated text, you frowned now. Saturdays meant community lunch. You hated it. All the people from the community would gather for a fancy meal. They discussed various, controversial topics that always made you so uncomfortable. The chance to finally miss it, was definitely not escaping you.

You: I usually am, but I can be free.

Hongjoong: wow, I feel lucky. Well, how about we meet up in the park?

You: sure thing, what time?

Hongjoong: how about 12.

———

Taking one final look in the mirror, you worried your outfit was either too much or too weird. You knew your parents didn’t approve of your style. But you had managed to save enough to buy a few cute items. This included the black, plaid skirt you were wearing that day, and the grey tight fitted turtle neck. As of recent, you’d always had to opt for a long sleeves because of your parents. Them and the dumb “pastor”, if you could even call him that. He was a manic in your eyes. Just an average man with outlandish views and a convincing glint in his eye’s. Either way, you tied up the laces of your boots and grabbed your bag, then headed downstairs.

“Skipping on the dinner are we?” Your father caught your attention, making you turn to him slowly. He was having his bow tie done by your mother. Since joining this “organised religion”, she’d become almost like a maid to him. All you did was nod at him, taking in their overly formal attire. The pastor did live in a mansion, but still, it was too much.

“Of course you are, such a pity. To waste your youthful soul.” Your mother sighed out in disappointment. She stepped back and looked you up and down with a shake of her head. “What has happened to my little girl? You look so unholy.” The woman barely knew the meaning of that word. Still, you shrunk back and just shrugged, turning to leave. Except, your father gripped your arm, twisting you back painfully.

“Answer your mother, stupid girl.” He spat with anger. Knowing to keep calm, you took a deep breath and slowly moved away, bowing your head.

“I’m sorry. Mother, father. But I’m going out today. If you could excuse me.” Without waiting, you headed for the door briskly, not missing their snide remarks. You knew what they thought of you, it hurt too. But what could you do? They’d been fully corrupted.

It was light out, few clouds dotting the pastel sky. You loved the end of spring. That calm, early may breeze brought you out more. Even if you usually only sat in your garden. Coming to the park chosen by hongjoong, you made your way to the centre, where a large, stone water fountain sat. It was very old, a few chips here and there, mossy patches in various places. Yet it was pretty, unique and oddly serene. You took a seat on the edge, gazing down at all the loose pennies tossed in by wishing hopefuls. Sometimes you wished you could be so open minded, yet you felt trapped in your sorry life. Clear water was falling from the decorative points at the top, creating a peaceful sound that filled the surrounding area. You were grateful to be there, even if you thought the boy wouldn’t show up. Why would he? In your mind, it was hard to believe. Your parents told you that no one would want to be associated with a girl of your kind. Making you sound as though you were a sinner. In their eyes you were.

“Well, hello pretty.” Jumping, you let out a slight squeak and turned to find hongjoong. He chuckled.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.” He was smiling, still looking as cool as the other day. Wearing a crumpled band T-shirt, ripped jeans, combat boots and an oversized hoodie. You were jealous.

“That’s okay, I was distracted.” You admitted shyly, standing yourself up to face him. He hummed, glancing up at the fountain.

“It’s lovely here, huh?” Hongjoong said, taking in his surrounding before focusing back on you. You nod, toying with the hem of your skirt. He simpered, watching your fidgeting fondly. “So I was thinking we could get ice cream?” He suggested, stuffing his hands into his pockets. You perked up, looking at him hopefully.

“That sounds great!” Realising how eager you may have sounded, you stepped back and pressed your lips together.“Sorry, I mean, yeah that’s a nice idea.” Hongjoong looked down at you and scoffed lightly.

“Why are you apologising sweets? Come on, let’s go, I know a good place.” He grinned, turning on his heel with you following shortly after. The walk to the pallor didn’t take long at all. And on your journey hongjoong spoke to you about his week at work, and all the odd clients he’d served.

“We even had an old lady come to get a more…intimate piercing. But wooyoung did that thankfully.” You couldn’t help but laugh at his stories, already feeling more relaxed than before. It was strange how quickly you’d began to forget your troubles around him. Acting more like yourself than you had in years.

“But see, woo is such a flirt. He can flirt his way through any appointment. Which is why I’m glad I got to do yours.” Hongjoong explained, glancing at you. Confused you looked back up at him.

“Why? He wouldn’t flirt with me, would he?”

“Of course he would. He does it to everyone. But he’s ten times worse with pretty girls.” He let you know, stopping in front of a small shop.

“What’s that got to do with me?” You asked, looking up at the pink and brown canopy fondly. Hongjoong frowned a little, placing a tentative hand on your shoulder.

“Everything.” He stated, leading you inside briskly so you couldn’t ask anymore. You were greeted by pastel pink walls, littered with retro ice cream posters and neon signs. There were a few wooden tables and chairs, only one being occupied by two elderly women. At the top of the store was a glass fridge, containing over twenty different flavours of both ice cream, and sorbets. Hongjoong walked to the cash desk, looking over the options without much thought.

“What are you thinking?” He questioned, watching as your eyes wondered the casing. It was a tough one. There was too many.

“I really don’t know. What about you?” Looking at the taller, he hummed pointing at a colourful tub.

“Probably sherbet and cherry.” He said, clearly having been there before. You couldn’t help the small pout on your lips.

“Two flavours?”

“Yeah of course. Get whichever you want.” Something about the way he spoke made you feel at ease, smiling as you decided.

“Then I’ll get chocolate chip and raspberry.” pulling out your card, hongjoong gently pushed your hand down and both ordered, and paid before you could protest. He smiled, collecting your cones off the worker and sitting at one of the tables in the window.

“I could have paid, don’t wanna be a burden you know?” You sat opposite and carefully took your ice cream from the male. He observed you for a moment, taking a small bite of his own treat.

“A burden. I asked you on a date, it’s hardly-“

“This is a date?!” You cut him off, eyes wide in surprise. Hongjoong scoffed and laughed.

“Well yeah, I hope so. That was my intention. But if you don’t want that, then that’s fine too.” You blushed, listening to him. He wanted it to be a date?

“No I do I just…I’ve never been on a date before and I didn’t think anyone would you know, ever ask me. But I do…” you rambled slightly, busying yourself with the ice cream. Hongjoong never took his eyes off you, tilting his head to watch your flustered actions.

“I’m flattered, to be your first date. I find it hard to believe that you’ve never been on one though.” He let you know, taking more bites which you found odd. Did his teeth not hurt? Either way, you responded.

“Why?”

“Well, you’re probably the prettiest girl who’s ever walked into my shop.” He said nonchalantly, not expecting you to choke on a chocolate chip. Your cheeks felt hot, quickly covering your mouth.

“You’re too kind hongjoong. I highly doubt that. But thank you.” You laughed a bit, trying to calm yourself down from his unexpected compliment. Hongjoong frowned, not liking your dismissal of what he was saying. You saw this and looked at him with worry and decided to carry on speaking.

“Well Uhm, I actually have been asked out before. But I said no.”

“Oh? Why?” He leant forward, clearly interested.

“Because, the guy is a creep I can’t lie.” You both laughed at this, him still deep in thought. It was as if he was trying to work you out, figure out what was beneath the surface.

“How so?” Oh no. You had two choices. Be honest and risk him thinking you were from a family of freaks. Or lie. Though, you hated lying. With a sigh, you turned your head away.

“He’s the son of a pastor. And his dad is even worse.” You admitted, biting into the slightly soggy cone you were holding still. Hongjoong bobbed his head slowly.

“You’re religious?”

“No. Not at all.” You clarified fast, horrified at the thought of being part of that. Humming, the man decided to brush it off and started asking more simple questing. Favourite colour. Favourite music. Just the basics so you could really get to know each other. The conversation flowed naturally, like you had known each other for years.

The sun was beginning to set, wind picking up slightly and making leaves twirl through the air. Hongjoong walked beside you, both going at a leisurely pace.

“Do you like being out at night?” He asked, hands tucked away in his pockets. You nod at him with a smile, feeling a lot more free than you had in a long while. The man watched you with a soft look in his eyes. Spotting a bench beneath a street lamp, he took your arm and pulled you to sit down.

“So, would you like to go out with me again?” You could feel the nerves radiating off of him and smiled to yourself.

“I’d like that a lot yeah.” The way his eyes lit up almost made you blush, it was strange seeing someone genuinely want to spend their time on you.

“You can pick our next date then.” Hongjoong chuckled, watching the panic take over as you wracked your brain for ideas. What would make a good date? You had no clue?

“I don’t..I’m not-“

“Hey relax…” Hongjoong simpered, moving closer and placing a hand on your thigh comfortingly. All you did was blush more at this.

“You can text me, there’s no pressure. Anything you want. Even if that’s just…sitting here again. I don’t mind.” His compassion made your heart beat erratic.

“Coffee?” You mustered up, thinking of your favourite downtown cafe. His snakebites reflected off of the streetlight, that infectious smile resurfacing.

“Yeah I’d love to get coffee with you. Is there cake?” His question made you giggle, nodding your head in confirmation. He laughed along with you, rubbing your leg in effort of creating a bit of warmth.

“Let me walk you home?” He offered, and who were you to refuse?

——————

The floors were white, the ceiling tiles were white, the shelves, railings, hangers. Everything was white. The clothes that lined this section of the store, were indeed also white. It was starting to hurt your eyes. Even so, you had no choice but to be there. Like a zombie, you followed the grisly, old lady you’d come to know as Elder Candace around the aisles. Her heels clicked against the ground almost piercingly, the noise making your teeth catch your lip ring, in efforts of a distraction.

“Are you even listening to me child?” Candaces’ squeaky voice brought you from your mind, your eyes coming to meet hers. She shook her head with a privileged huff. You thought of how funny you must have looked with this group of women. Dressed far too formal, in pearly long dresses and their stilettos. Whilst there you were, short black skirt paired with a plain black T-shirt, a grey cardigan and your boots as per usual. You almost smiled, feeling like everyone’s stereotype of the family disappointment.

“Not really no.” You mumbled in response, at least deciding to be honest with the old lady. She stopped, along with all her little minions, turning around glaring down at you.

“Then pay attention, we’re here to help you see our lords vision. His ways are the key to our future in the promise land.” As she repeated her holy script, you felt nauseas. Oh how you wished you could have met with hongjoong that day. Initially, after waking up that morning, you had tried to call him to see if he wanted to go and get breakfast. The coffee date had gone so well, you had stayed out well into the night and lost count on the amount of caffeine you’d had. In his company, you felt one hundred percent yourself. Since then you’d text all the time, you even went and met him on his lunch break most days. Wooyoung had started teasing you both, yet you found it flattering. However your mother was in your room, taking your phone and forcing you out with Elder Candace. Speaking of her, she had continued to look through the clothes, trying to find you something they deemed holy. The store was empty, yet you still felt hot and bothered. Probably due to the fact you were hungry, thirsty and extremely on edge. You knew at any moment these women could lash out at you. Using their “religion” as an explanation to be violent, and using your “demonic” looks as an excuse. Though, the thought of them seeing hongjoong, imagining their scared faces made you smile to yourself. He was everything they despised. Tattooed, confident, black and white hair, had the guts to show uniqueness and personality. The women would probably scream at him. So distracted by your funny scenario, you weren’t watching where you were going and walked straight into one of the clothing racks. It twisted awkwardly and fell into an unsuspecting you man holding a baby grow. Now panicked, you quickly bowed your head.

“I’m so, so sorry.” You apologised, wasting no time in crouching and picking up the items hastily.

“Hey it’s okay, don’t worry.” The male smiled at you kindly, helping to pick up the ugly, white clothes and hang them back up. He had longish black hair framing his well structured face. You thought it was pretty, noticing some was pulled back into a pony tail.

“Still, I should have been paying more attention.” Guilt was clear in your tone, your hands clasping together. The tall man simply shook his head, but before he could speak you felt a bony hand grip at your arm.

“(Y/n). Get away from this man. He is not one of us, he is one for the devil with those aesthetics.” She spat out, giving the poor boy a look so cold you thought it might freeze him. Even though he looked unfazed, your stomach twisted awfully. With her hold on you tightening, she yanked you away harshly.

“You’re never going to become pure! You evil little cretin. Im going to file a report for this, talking to a man. Are you a whore?” You were completely taken aback by her outburst, swallowing down your emotions with difficulty. You didn’t want to be there, you wanted to scream and run, yet you felt there would be no use.

“No i ju-“

“Enough! I didn’t want to believe it but your mother is right! You’re a traitor to our saviour. Dressed like a fiend, with your spiked lip and your inappropriate clothes.” Candace had a look in her eye that made you shiver and shrink back. Though her hold on you meant you couldn’t even move an inch. “You’ll be damned to the burning depths for all your sins, imagine how betrayed your parents are going to be! You filthy littl-“

“(Y/n)?” Candace froze, stopping mid-sentence to look passed you. Her eyes widened in horror and you felt as though all of your prayers had been answered. Turning around, relief flooded your veins upon seeing Hongjoong. He stood there, eyes piercing into the woman holding you like a hostage.

“Get away from here boy, this is none of your concern.” Candace tried to sound authoritative, but there was a shake in her voice that couldn’t be missed. He raised a brow at her, looking her up and down with a grimace. Letting out a breath, hongjoong looked at you and held out his hand.

“Come on.” The simple demand was easy to want to follow, and maybe he really did scare her, because Candace let you slip away easily. You waisted no time in taking hold of his hand, relaxing as Hongjoong pulled you into his embrace. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you buried your face into his shoulder, basking in the security he provided. Meanwhile, he continued to stare at the gang you were with, watching as they scurried off almost comically. Once they had dispersed, he enclosed his arms around your waist protectively and sighed.

“Are you okay?” His voice was gentle, a hand moving up and down your back. All you could do was nod, not wanting to let go.

“I told you it was her.” That voice. Glancing up, you saw the man you had bumped into earlier.

“(Y/n), this is Seonghwa, my close friend. He said he bumped into you before and well, said you looked like you were in trouble.” Hongjoong explained, keeping a hand on your waist. You’d never felt so grateful for embarrassing yourself before.

“Thank you.” You uttered, giving them both a small smile.

“Come on, let’s get out of this weird place.” Hongjoong moved to hold your hand, heading for the exit without a second thought.

Sugar melted into your tea within a second, as you stirred the spoon around the red mug slowly. The cafe was quiet, only a few people coming in and out. To your left, Hongjoong sat with his iced Americano . Opposite sat Seonghwa, sharing a few worried looks with his friend. You weren’t really saying anything.

“Who was that woman?” Hongjoong asked, hoping for you to open up to him.

“I have to call her Elder Candace. She’s a disciple.” You replied, eyeing up the muffin that was kindly bought for you.

“Is this the same religion you told me about?” You nod to hongjoongs question.

“Yeah, I mean, she’s just a crazy old lady really. But he’s filled her head with all his spiel. And she really believes everything he says.” They listened to you intently.

“Sorry, what?” Seonghwa was right to voice his confusion, making you sit straight.

“About five years ago, my grandmother passed away, she was in hospital with a chronic illness and she couldn’t hold on any longer. My mother was heartbroken, of course, and my parents decided to relocate and start fresh. Here.” They gave you a sympathetic look. “We’ve never been a religious family, never been to church or prayed. Never. Though my mother was struggling and my dad wanted an outlet for her. That’s when he found this website…” you trailed off, remembering everything in detail.

“It was simply called ‘FaithsKey’, with a stupid little tagline. It’s something like ‘helping you find the key to faith and the glorious promised land’. But my dad was drawn in by the comments, everyone apparently seemed happy. And that’s what he wanted for my mum.” Hongjoong moved a bit closer, slipping his hand onto your knee comfortingly. Leaning back in your seat, you looked down at his hand and admired his rings. You couldn’t help but to toy with them as you continued. “So they joined the site. It was a slow integration. I barely noticed at first. They would go one Friday a month to his speeches. Then every two weeks. Then every Friday. Until it became a regular thing. I’d be alone more and more. I was confused. I didn’t know where they were or what they were doing.” You glanced between the men, hongjoong lacing your fingers together. Seonghwa rested his elbows on the table, giving you tight lipped smile.

“Then one day, they pulled me out of school, told me that it would corrupt my pure soul. They started homeschooling me with one of his schemes. It was all nonsense. No maths. No science. Teachings about purity and how to achieve the most pure mind and status. I hated it. And I told them that. That’s when everything really changed…”

“What do you mean?” Hongjoong pressed, thumb running across your knuckles soothingly. You looked at him, lips slightly downturned.

“My father slapped me. After hearing that I hated the program and wanted to return to a normal college, he hit me. He told me I was a disgrace, that I was betraying them and failing the one true path to purity. Then that never stopped.” You could almost see Hongjoongs heart drop to his stomach, his hand tightening in yours. “They took away my phone, my laptop. They forced me to every meeting and every event. The community lunches every Saturday. The galas every six months. It was torture. But when I turned twenty they let up a bit. I have a bit more freedom now. Though I had to steal an old phone.” You also laughed at how ridiculous the truth was. But the men weren’t laughing. Instead, hongjoong pulled you into his chest, an arm around your shoulders steadily. You rested your head against him, letting out a shallow breath.

“Who is this man?” Seonghwa spoke up, voice bitter.

“I don’t know his real name, they call him the saviour. Or sometimes even the lord. It’s not like they’re praying to god. They pray to him. It’s sick. I’m not and never will be religious but even so, it’s wrong. And he’s raising his son to be his prodigy, the next best thing.” This just left the pair with more questions.

“Is this the same son who asked you on a date?” Glancing up at Hongjoong, you nod shortly recalling the events of that day and shivering. Subconsciously, you shuffled closer to the man holding you.

“I say asked, he more demanded. As did my parents. It was a big thing. They’re desperate for me to be a part of it, to give my soul to them.” Becoming more annoyed, hongjoong shook his head.

“How can you put up with that?”

“I had nowhere to go. No one to run to. I’ve just been on my own for the past few years. It feels like I really lost my parents the day they went to that first meeting. I miss them.” Tears began to cloud your vision, and you desperately tried to blink them away, yet it was useless. All you wanted was to feel wanted once again. Hongjoong lifted his hand, softly turning your face into his chest, as if to shield from the world around you. Keeping his hand on the back of your head, he pet your hair affectionately.

“It’s okay, you have us now. You can relax. I’m not going to let them keep hurting you, I promise.” Somehow, you actually found yourself believing him. His voice was like honey. “Are you family at home right now?” He asked, wiping your cheeks softly. You shook your head, sniffling slightly. “How about we head to your house, pack a bag of your things, then you can stay with me for a while?” Hongjoong suggested,

“Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure, I don’t really like the idea of you being there. Not after everything you just said.” His words were certain, already having made up his mind. You felt the weight fall off your shoulders in an instant.

“But won’t I be in the way?” You worried, even if you loved the idea, you wanted to feel reassured.

“No absolutely not.”

“Trust me, his house is massive.” Seonghwa boasted happily, causing the shorter to roll his eyes half heartedly.

“I don’t think she meant physically in the way, hwa.” You giggled at them, picking up your mug once again.

“Oh! This means you have to come tomorrow night!” You looked across at Seonghwa confused. “Ah, it’s mine and my fiancés baby shower! We’re hosting a little get together.” He explained, eyes filled with pure joy.

“Oh so that’s why you were in that store?” You realised, earning a nod back from them back.

“I’d love to go.” They seemed pleased with your answer.

“Let’s go before your family get home then.”

———

It was strange, seeing Hongjoong in your bedroom, picking up your various hello kitty plushies. You smiled, packing a duffle bag up with essentials.

“Don’t worry too much, we can go clothes shopping tomorrow.” Hongjoong reassured, taking the bag frown your hands. “Bring some of the plushies. They’re cute.” He decided, watching you scramble to pick a few up.

His house was massive, Seonghwa wasn’t joking. You stared wide eyed at the building, mouth agape. A vintage, blank and White House. With pillars at the entrance and many French windows.

“Are you rich?” You asked, following Hongjoong into his home. More in amazement than anything. He chuckled, leading you up a centre staircase. It was dark but beautifully decorated, the floors a dark wood and the wails painted cream; with different pieces of art hung up.

“Why? Do you want a sugar daddy?” Hongjoong joked, leading you along the dimly lit corridor. You hummed in amusement.

“Only if it’s you.” Your comment caught him off guard, causing him to pause and look at you. His cheeks were flushed, a half laugh passing his pierced lips. Shaking his head, Hongjoong pushed open a door.

“After you, pretty.” Giggling, you slipped in past him.

“This is my room.” He let you know, following behind you. It suited him, you thought whilst walking around. With a king sized bed, that had a mahogany frame and navy sheets. The walls were black, with a white skirting board and a few signed posters hung up precisely. All the furniture matched, the drawers and built in wardrobe the same shade as the bed frame. In the corner of the room sat a guitar and leather sofa. Opposite his bed, a large flatscreen TV. There was a fluffy throw at the end of his bed, plus unlit candles along his dresser.

“It’s really nice, tidy.” You commented, spinning on your heel to face Hongjoong. “Where will I stay?” You asked timidly, his face dropping slightly. He took a step closer, letting your bag sit at the foot of his bed. Taking your hands in his own, Hongjoong looked at you sheepishly.

“Well, I thought you could stay in here. With me?” He suggested with a nervous timbre. Usually so confident, it warmed your heart to see him more vulnerable.

“Really? You don’t mind?”

“I don’t mind in the slightest. I want you to, if I’m being honest.” He grinned, bringing your hand up to kiss your knuckles. “Now, how do you feel about having a cosy, little movie night?”

“I’d love that.” You simpered, shivering lightly. Hongjoong moved across the room, pulling out a sweatshirt from his wardrobe.

“You can wear this, the bathroom is just through there okay?” He pet your hair affectionately before heading downstairs.

After freshening up in his en suite, you put on his sweatshirt and smiled to yourself in the mirror. It was big on you, and very soft inside. You folded your clothes neatly, walking out of the bathroom and putting them in your bag. Spotting a lighter on the bedside table, you took it and carefully lit the candles in the room. They were apple scented, a nice surprise. The wicks crackled away, some nearly burnt out. You just thought that made it smell better. The whole room smelt comforting though, a mix of smoke and cologne, now with apples too. Hoisting yourself up onto the bed, you looked around happily. You wandered if it was considered rude to light the candles. Or if it would be rude to turn on the Tv.

“You look cute.” Hongjoong suddenly appeared in the door, having changed into a pair of sweats and a vest. His tattoos were more visible now, black ink looking too good on his tanned skin. He strolled over casually, taking place on the bed beside you. Noticing how rigid you were, he laughed a little. “Relax, (y/n). Get comfy okay?” Hongjoong helped you under the duvet, propping the pillows up for you.

“I lit the candles, is that okay?” You gazed up at him, his eyes already on you. He leered, getting under the cover and pulling you into his chest.

“Of course it is. You can do whatever you like here.” You simpered, nuzzling against him naturally. His arms wrapped around you, holding you close.

“Whatever I want?” You asked, peering up at him with big eyes. Hongjoong stared down at you, throat bobbing. Sadly though, your phone began blaring out its ringtone, ruining your happy moment. With a groan, you reached over to get it and instantly frowned.

“It’s my dad.” You said, unsure of what to do. Hongjoong took the old device from you, ending the incoming call. There were hundreds of missed calls and texts, they were after you.

“You don’t have to contact them anymore, okay? In fact,” he started, opening his drawer and pulling out a box before handing it to you. “I got you this.” Hongjoong looked at you proudly. Taking the box, you gasped upon seeing the newest iPhone.

“Hongjoong this is so expensive!” You gaped, looking up at him in shock. He just smirked cockily, giving you a shrug.

“Money doesn’t matter, I want to be able to text you normally.” He jabbed, poking your waist. Feigning offence, you scoffed.

“Was my brick not good enough for you?” You questioned sassily. Hongjoong moved towards you, cupping your cheek.

“No actually. It wasn’t. You deserve the best.” Face red, you looked at him bashful, unsure of how to act. He tilted his head, inching forward ever so slightly. As much as your heart was racing, you couldn’t pull away, enjoying the closeness. His eyes searched your face, landing on your lips like a target. Tentatively, Hongjoong closed the gap and pressed your lips together softly. Time slowed as he kissed you, your arms subconsciously winding around his neck. Finding yourself instinctively getting closer to him, his hand trailed down to your waist as you parted.

“Was that okay?” He questioned quietly, thumbing your side soothingly. You nod with shy smile, toying with the hair at the base of his neck. Hongjoong smirked lightly, brining you against his chest. There was a shared warmth between you, a real, true element of finally belonging.

———

Just as he’d promised, Hongjoong took you shopping the very next morning. He was far more eager than you’d expected, excitedly pulling you into all his favourite alt shops. Not that you were complaining, it was great to finally shop for exactly what you wanted.

“Hongjoong I have six skirts in my basket already.” You giggled as he picked up another. A short pink, pleated skirt with black bows on the waist.

“But it’s cute, and it’ll suit you perfectly love.” He said with certainty, adding it to your basket without a second thought. You huffed, shaking your head and picking up some T-shirts. His arm snaked around your waist, leading you over to another section filled with graphic sweaters. After looking around, you picked out a couple then gazed up at the man beside you.

“I think this is enough Joong.”

“You sure? I’ll buy you whatever you want.” He clarified, eager to make you happy. Simpering, you cupped his cheeks and pecked his lips affectionately.

“I know you would. But this is more than enough, I promise.” There was a slight flush to his cheeks, a grin on his lips. Hongjoong, ignoring your reluctance, payed for everything and head out into the mall.

“I’m so hungry.” He complained and pursed his lips. “We don’t have to be at Seonghwas until four, wanna get food?”

“Yes please.” You smiled in response, trying and failing to take the bag from him. Instead, he took your free hand and guided you into a bakery on the floor below. Sitting in a booth, he placed the bag down on the opposite side before sliding in with you. You were really enjoying just how clingy he was now you were “officially his”. Picking up the menu, you rested your head on his shoulder as he read it aloud.

“-coffee and walnut cake, Victoria sponge, white chocolate and raspberry, chocolate orange, mango-“

“Chocolate orange.” You cut in quickly, making the man laugh. A waitress came over, taking your order quickly. Hongjoong even remembered your drink preference and ordered for the both of you. He laced your fingers together, resting your hands on his thigh.

“Do you want your nails done? They’re outgrown.” You scoffed at his observation. “Not that you look bad, I’m just saying, it might make you feel better.” He chuckled, his thumb running over your knuckles softly. Nuzzling your cheek against his shoulder, you bobbed your head.

“Mhm, pink and black?”

“With hearts.” He pointed to your index finger. “I’ll pay.”

“No you won’t. You’ve done enough.” You almost whined, gripping his hand a little tighter. Leering, Hongjoong just pressed a chaste kiss to your temple. “I won’t take no for an answer, let me spoil you.”

———

You arrived at Seonghwas just after four, looking and feeling better than you had in years. Hongjoong had indeed payed for your nails, along with everything else. He was really stubborn. Seonghwa was over the moon to see you both, taking you both into the lounge. A few people greeted you, but you only recognised Wooyoung. There was a slightly taller man with him who said hello, and two very tall men who were sat off in a corner looking through all the opened gifts. On the couch sat a pregnant woman, Seonghwas fiancé.

“Thank goodness another girl.” She joked, offering you the seat beside her. Giggling, you sat there and introduced yourself to her. The woman was thrilled when she found out you were Hongjoongs girlfriend.

“We didn’t come empty handed don’t worry.” Hongjoong said, giving her a pretty pastel gift bag. She opened it excitedly, gushing over the three Jellycat bunnies you’d chosen earlier that day, along with the cute dresses Hongjoong had already bought.

“(Y/n)!” Wooyoung bound over, stealing you away easily and pulling you over to his little group. “Guys look it’s (y/n)! The girl I told you about!” He almost yelled but no one was phased at all. “Hongjoong is like, obsessed with her.” He boasted, your cheeks turning red.

“I dunno about that.” You laughed shyly, avoiding the eyes of these new people.

“Don’t embarrass her woo.” One man spoke, his deep voice catching you off guard. Wooyoung whined.

“You’re no fun Yeosang. I thought we were besties. You’re supposed to back me up.”

“We’re not disagreeing with you, but look at the poor girl.” The other laughed. “I’m San by the way.” He shook your hand curtly.

“He is obsessed though, he never stopped talking about you in our group chat.” Wooyoung continued, pulling out his phone to prove a point. Rolling your eyes, you nudged him playfully and made him put the device away.

“Drink?” You yelped in surprise when someone suddenly spoke by your ear. Turning, you saw another young man, with dark brown hair looked at you blankly.

“I’m ok, thanks?”

“That’s Jongho. He’s quiet like that.” San cackled at your scared expression. Jongho just shrugged and went to sit with Yeosang.

You spent around fifteen minutes with them, listening to their constant petty arguments. It was fun but very loud. Glancing back, you saw Seonghwa and Hongjoong sat on the couch talking casually. Meanwhile, the lady of the hour was over by the food with one of the taller men and a girl you didn’t know. Slipping away from Wooyoung, you perched on the arm of the sofa behind Hongjoong. Noticing you, Hwa gave you a kind smile before resuming his conversation. It was if he could detect you, because Joong leant back against you almost immediately. You grinned, running your fingers through the pale section of his hair, noticing how much had actually outgrown.

“I think you need your roots doing babe.” You mumbled once there was a gap in the talking. Tilting his head back, Hongjoong raised his brows.

“Yeah I know, maybe we could do it together?” Liking that idea, you nod happily and wrapped your arms around his shoulders.

———

A few weeks had passed, Hongjoong had been kind enough to let you work with him and Wooyoung. On the front desk, allowing for more customers and a better logging system. For your first payment, they decided to either let you get a new piercing or a tattoo. Hesitantly, you’d gone with the tattoo, choosing a floral piece for your upper thigh. Of course, your boyfriend had been the one to do it, not letting Wooyoung anywhere near you. It was beautifully done though, and hardly hurt, in the comfort of your new home too.

Currently, Hongjoong was pulling everything out of his bathroom cabinet. You sat on the edge of the tub.

“How do you have so many hair dyes?” You chuckled in question, watching as he inspected every pot.

“Well, I get bored. Luckily I have bleach too.” He stated casually, eyes lighting up at the pack he was holding. Shaking your head, you spied one of the pots he had abandoned and picked it up. A dusky pink colour that had never been opened. “Want to do it?” Hongjoong suddenly asked, making you look at him. Pressing your lips together, you shrugged.

“Do you think it’ll look good?”

“You’ll look good with any colour, pretty. Plus, if you really don’t like it, we can go over it?” Convinced, you bobbed your head slowly. Elated, Hongjoong hastily put everything else away and stood up. Having done it so many times before, he got all the supplies ready, the gloves and the mixing bowls. “So, I’ll bleach your hair first. Then you can do my roots? Then we’ll w-“ he was cut off by your phone ringing. Confused, you picked it up and frowned at the unknown number.

“Maybe it’s someone wanting to book an appointment?” Hongjoong suggested, pouring the peroxide into a bowl.

“Hello?” You answered the call, pressing speaker as you’d grown a custom to recently.

“(Y/n).” You froze, your heart leaping to your throat. Puzzled, Hongjoong turned around, worried at your pale complexion. “I’ve been trying to reach you for weeks.” You swallowed thickly, unsure of what to say. How could he have found your new number? It made no sense.

“Why?” You managed.

“Can’t I contact my own daughter?” In a flash, Hongjoong was by your side on the tub. “Come and see us. We just want to talk.” Your father tried, a twinge of honesty in his inflection. You just sighed with conflict. “Your mother misses you.” He did his best to be persuasive.

“I don’t know dad.”

“Just, please? Come to the gala on Saturday?” It was strange, your father almost begging you for something. Like you actually held the upper hand for once.

“If I go, I’m not coming alone.” You said sternly, leaving no room for discussion.

“Yes, that’s absolutely fine.” You said nothing else and hung up. Hongjoong pulled you into his chest instantly.

“Are you sure?” He asked, your arms hugging his waist tightly.

“I’m sure, you’ll be with me. And the second they try to convert me, we’re leaving.” You responded, mumbling against the skin of his neck. He rubbed your back soothingly, nodding along with every word.

“Let’s make you look even prettier then, show them how amazing of a daughter they’ve lost.” Hongjoong simpered, pinching your cheek which made you smile bashfully. He got to work, doing your hair quickly and instructing you on how to do his. It was a fun experience, one you really enjoyed. Adding the bright blue to his hair was even better, even if it did stain your fingers. When it was time, he rinsed the pink off of your hair before doing his own. Being the gentleman he is, Hongjoong dried your hair first and styled it for you. You weren’t allowed to look in any mirrors, sitting on his bed and watching as he dried off his own hair.

“It looks really good.” You smiled as he turned around. “Might be better than your split dye.” There was a faint blush on his cheeks from your compliment. He pulled you up, gazing into your eyes lovingly.

“And you look even better, pretty. Beautiful.” Now it was your turn to be shy, pressing your face against his chest in return. Hongjoong chuckled, brining you to a mirror. His hands covered your eyes as you stood in front of it. “Ready?”

“Yes.” You giggled, trying to wiggle out of his grip. He laughed at your effort, slowly removing his hands. Seeing yourself in the mirror, you gasped. It was so different, a lovely light, dusky pink. But it felt so right and so you. Hongjoong wrapped his arms around your waist from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“Like it?”

“I love it. Thank you.” You ran your hand through the freshly dyed hair with a thrilled smile. Pressing his lips to your cheek, Hongjoong guided you back to the bed and sat himself against the pillows. You crawled on top, sitting yourself between his legs and lying against his chest.

“So, tell me. What do I have to do to be ready for this ‘gala’ on Saturday?” He asked, drawing shapes on the skin of your arm tenderly. You sighed softly, thinking back on the many you had attended.

“There’s so many rules, and things you have to do.”

“And that’s fine, we’re in this together yeah? Then it’s up to you how you deal with your parents.” Hongjoongs words comforted you greatly, making the whole ordeal not seem to bad.

“You have to wear all white, your tattoos must be covered. You have to dress smart, a shirt a tie, pants and dress shoes.” You started listing of the requirements, the man nodding along. “The first thing we’ll have to do is attend the sermon. It’s a disaster. It makes no sense I’ll warn you now. But we’ll have to sit through that.” You explained, sitting yourself up. Hongjoong followed suit, tugging you closer to face him properly. “Then, there’s a feast. The food is bland and strange. Just pretend to eat it. The less you eat the more pure they’ll think you are.”

“That’s toxic.” Hongjoong commented, holding both of your hands. You nod in agreement, leaning forward and resting your forehead against head shoulder.

“He’ll sit at the head of the table, with his stupid family. He looks down at everyone as if he’s a god.” You murmured. “I suppose, to them, he is. They worship him.” You spat, angry for the families he’d corrupted, including your own. “Then it’s the “gala”. Which, is actually just an over the top house party.” You concluded, not moving from the warmth your boyfriend was providing. Hongjoong had his arms around you now, his grip tight.

“Alright. So what can’t I do?”

“Swear, get drunk, talk badly to the pastor or his family, eat too fast, eat first, eat to slow, finish eating first, get up and leave the table, leave the sermon, go in any of the roped off rooms, cry, shout, raise your voice, cause a scene, disobey any instructions, and never talk over him.” Your voice grew quieter with every rule you repeated. They had been ingrained into your head for years, forced down your throat, practice choking you. Hongjoong cupped your cheeks, making you look at him. He wiped under your eyes, drying the tears you didn’t know were there.

“You’ve been through so much.” He mumbled, stroking your cheeks lovingly. “You’re away from that now yeah? I’m not going to let anything bad happen to you again.” You nod your head at his promise, sniffling lightly. He smiled, pressing his lips against yours. You kissed back with fervour, your thoughts melting away in an instant. Swiftly, hongjoong pulled you onto his lap, as his lips moved against yours in perfect conjunction. Your hands gripped at his oversized T-shirt, tilting your head and effectively deepening the kiss. Neither of you could pull away, even if your lungs were protesting. The moment was intense, fulled by burning emotions and the realisation that you were finally in control. In control of your own life and your own feelings. You had a choice now. Hongjoong moved back an inch, resting his forehead against yours.

“I love you,” he breathed, brown eyes flittering between your eyes and your lips. “You know that right?” Your heart was hammering in your chest, cheeks a deep shade of red. He smiled at your timid nature, kissing your lips a few more times. “You don’t have to say it back, pretty.” He reassured, not an ounce of judgement in his bones. Shaking your head, you gave a teary smile.

“I love you too.” You said, feeling a weight fall off of your shoulders. You’d never seen a man smile so bright, his eyes crinkled in pure joy. He wrapped his arms around you, rolling onto his back and pulling you down on top of him. A cheerful laugh spilled from his lips.

“Say it again?” Hongjoong promoted hopefully, earning a sheepish whine from yourself. “Please?” He begged, allowing you to shuffle into a more comfortable position. You looked down at him, at his doe eyes and expectant expression. Unable to resist, you leant in close and spoke softly.

“I love you.” His hand found the back of your neck, pulling you into a heated kiss once again. You giggled against his lips, sinking into him with ease. Saturday definitely seemed more doable all of a sudden.

———

A drilling alarm brought you out of your peaceful slumber on Saturday morning. Hongjoong groaned, quick to turn it off and settle down again. His bare chest pressed to your back as he wound his arms around you.

“It’s so cold.” You complained, basking in the warmth now being supplied to you.

“I know sweetheart.” He nuzzled into the back of your neck. “How about I make us both a hot chocolate whilst we get ready hm?” His offer was tempting, a smile gracing your lips. You nod, disappointed when he got up and left you alone. Hongjoong scoffed at your small whine, pulling on some pants. “I’ll be two minutes.”

When he returned, you were in the bathroom getting washed, he could smell your pumpkin spiced soap. Smiling to himself, Hongjoong got out the new clothes he’d bought you both, remembering fondly how you’d scolded him. But he’d spend every penny on you ,no matter what you said. You emerged from the bathroom, fresh for the day. Glancing up, Hongjoong whistled at your appearance and you felt yourself blush. Before you could hide yourself, your boyfriend crossed the room and placed his hands on your waist. He sighed contently, considering your flushed face for a moment.

“You’re beautiful.” Even after all the months, you were still shy to his compliments. You smiled, catching your lip between your teeth and avoiding eye contact. Hongjoong chuckled, pecking your lips before pulling away and entering the en-suite. You couldn’t help the stupid grin on your face, turning to the outfit he had laid out for you. It was pretty, a white turtleneck, paired with one of the short, pleated skirts you loved so much. That was of course, also white. You’d found some white tights along with basic converse. It was smart yet casual, not looking like you’d done too much. Before getting dressed, you took a few small sips of your hot drink and sighed. Outside, orange leaves were scattered along the damp grass. Bare branches rustling filled you with joy, a reminder of the cosy season. The anxiety you once had for Gala days was no longer present. Instead, you felt comfort in knowing that, at the end of the terrible day ahead, you’d be returning home with Hongjoong. There was no pressure to be perfect and poised. You were going in there with a new confidence. Hongjoong. Setting the mug down, you got yourself dressed and looked in the mirror.

“You look like an angel.” Hongjoong said, slipping from the bathroom and coming to your side. Blushing, you looked back at him and watched as he pulled on his white slacks. Stepping forward, you helped him with the buttons on his dress shirt. He stared down at you lovingly, cupping your cheeks the second you were done. “How are you feeling?”

“On edge, but I’m okay.” You loosely did his tie, straightening up his collar. He thumbed your cheeks softly, searching your (e/c) eyes.

“I’m right here, I’ll punch the pastor if he insults you.” You couldn’t help but laugh, peering up at him with affection. Leaning up, you left a tender kiss on his pierced lips before stepping away.

You arrived to the gathering house just before midday, hongjoong helped you out in surprise.

“You were surprised at the size of my house? This is insane?” He gawked quietly, sizing up the mansion before him. It was a stunning building, with marble stairs leading to a grand entranceway. Of course, everything was white, even the fake flowers and the pots they were in. Humming, you took hold of his hand and began walking forwards.

“Your place feels like a home…unlike this place.” You shivered, noticing other people entering the house. A tall man stood at the door, one you recognised from previous visits. Getting behind a small family, you looked down at the little boy sadly. Even at that young age, he looked drained, probably from his brainwashed parents and the teachings of FaithsKey. Noticing your expression, Hongjoong pulled you into his side his arm holding your waist in comfort. The doorman saw you and raised his brows.

“Ms (y/l/n)? Your parents are already inside. I haven’t seen you in months?” His tone was questioning, buff arms folded tightly over his chest. You just shrugged, signing the form by the door. He wasn’t a terrible person, even so you didn’t want to give him any of your time and pulled your boyfriend inside hastily. Making your way up the centre staircase, the air was filled with the unmistakable scent of sage. The place was barren, colourless and almost prison like.

“It’s silent.” Hongjoong mumbled as you came to the second floor, no one in sight down the long, dull corridor.

“That’s how he likes it.” You muttered back, holding his hand a little tighter as you remembered your way back to the sermon room. “Remember, no talking, no sudden movements. We just sit at the back like we’re ghosts.” Squeezing his hand tighter, you could feel the anxiety creeping back into your mind.

“I know, pretty. I’m right here with you, remember? Just try to block it all out.” Hongjoong reassured, kissing your temple softly as you stopped outside a shut, double door. You nod, taking a deep breath before quietly slipping inside the sermon room. It was almost full, but you found an empty pew right at the back. Hongjoong tucked you into his side protectively, linked fingers resting on his thigh. It was dystopian, watching the people, clad in white gowns finding a seat. They sat like clones, eyes zoned in on the crystal stand at the head of the room. You knew your parents were somewhere in the same room, so close yet so far from you now. All that could be heard was the flickering of wood wicked candles, hushed breaths and fancy shoes finding their places. Even with everyone in white, the room was dark and dreary. After a long five minutes, the doors at the other end of the room opened, and out came the man you hated most. His presence intoxicated the room. By his side, were his son and wife, along with a few disciples. Elder Candace guided his family to the first pews as everyone rose from their seats. Hongjoong held your waist firmly, eyes darting around the room.

“Greetings my beloveds. The new, the faithful, those of you rejoining us-“ the pastor met your eyes for a split second, “-I’m delighted to have you with us on this fine day.” He held his arms out gratefully, veneers on full display. He began to preach, clasping his hands together and bellowing out in the silent room. All around you, his followers listened eagerly, taking in his every word like it was gold. “My children, you take my words now. I am the path to greatness. With me, you shall always be enlightened. You shall always be pure, unadulterated and happy.” It was the same spiel as always, his charisma manipulating the crowd. Your throat bobbed thickly, suddenly you felt very hot. Noticing your discomfort, hongjoong brought you closer, careful not to alert anyone. “I have led many people to glory, shown them the light. With me, I’ll ease all your troubles, reward your faith. Trust me. I have what you need.” A shiver ran down your spine, not liking the sound of that at all. Yet, the people were soaking up every word he said.

Luckily, the sermon passed quickly and people filed out of the room. Hongjoong draped his arm around your shoulders, walking down the hallway with you.

“(Y/n)?” you froze, slowly turning back. There they stood, your parents. Dressed in their best formal wear. Tentatively, your mother took a step closer, yet she didn’t reach out to you. “It’s good to see you.” She continued, voice almost breathless.

“I’m glad you agreed to come.” Your father added, not so subtly looking at the man holding you. You just nod at them, the words stuck in your throat. They walked beside you both, an awkward tension spreading.

“So, who is this?” Your father asked, breaking the silence. Hongjoong looked over, holding his hand out confidently.

“I’m Hongjoong, (y/n)’s boyfriend.” He shook your dad’s hand firmly, sending him a direct message not to upset you further. Your dad faltered slightly, something you hadn’t seen before.

“Well, Hongjoong, you’ll love the food, it’s delicious.” Your mother boasted on the Pastors behalf. He didn’t believe her at all, but nod politely either way.

Entering the dining hall, the brightness caught Hongjoong off guard. The long table was made of glass, surrounded with crushed-velvet, grey chairs. The floors were white tiles, the walls a light grey pattern. From the ceiling hung huge crystal chandeliers. Along the table, were pot plates and shiny silverware, wine glasses with tacky prints. Walking along, you found yours and your “plus one”s name places. Next to your parents and luckily not too close to the host. Hongjoong pulled out your chair, tucking it in once you were sat. He instantly held his hand out for you, to which you held it immediately. Your mother sat on your right, your father by her side. It was silent yet again, the followers putting the white napkins on their white clothes. The pastor took his seat at the head of the table, nodding to a man stood by the door. After a second, waiters entered the room and began to dish out food onto peoples plates carefully. Following this, they came around with decanters. Everyone was poured a glass of a clear, green tinted liquid, except for you. Both your parents and Hongjoong looked confused as your glass was left empty.

“My beloveds, I have provided this nutritious meal out of the goodness of my heart. As I the saviour give you the key to a long, prosperous life.” Everyone clapped at his nonsense, as he raised a glass in toast.

“Thank you. You may converse.” You let out a breath, the room breaking out into idle chatter.

“What’s with the drinks?” Hongjoong questioned.

“It’s grape juice. Not wine.” You confirmed, but he just shook his head.

“No, I mean, you didn’t get anything?”

“I know, I’m not sure why…” you trailed off, trying not to think too much about it. The guests all around you seemed so happy, spooning the food into their mouths with joy. They spoke with glee, eyes alight unnaturally.

Beside you, Hongjoong stared at his plate in dismay. It was a mixture of congealed, beige stuff, not appealing at all.

“What is this?” He asked in a hushed voice, pushing the creamy sludge around his plate.

“Mashed potato’s, with diced anchovies and egg relish.” You watched as his face dropped, lips pursing as he tried to remain unfazed. Your lips twitched as you held in your laughter, leaning onto his shoulder and hugging his arm. “No?”

“No.” He agreed to your unasked question of ‘do you like it?’, moving the food around to make it seem like he’d tried. You chuckled quietly, relaxing when Hongjoong slipped his arm around your waist. He smiled down at you, brushing a few stray strands of your hair back from your face. A hand suddenly landed on your shoulder, cold breath hitting your neck uncomfortably.

“I’m glad to see you again, (y/n).” The pastor grinned menacingly, pouring a deep red liquid into your glass. You were frozen, unable to do or say anything. Hongjoong tightening his grip on your waist, pulling you away from the pastors grip. Their eyes met, and Hongjoong could have killed him with the look he was giving. “No one truly leaves us, (y/n). Welcome home.” With that eerie statement, the pastor walked away. Hongjoong was quick to move the glass away from you.

“Don’t drink that.” He voiced whilst shaking his head. You sighed, placing your head back onto your boyfriend’s chest. Nothing had changed then. At least now you had someone to lean on during the horrific event. “How about tonight we go on a little night drive hm?” A small grin broke onto your face at his mumbled suggestion. “We’ll get any food you want, put on your favourite band and drive for as long as you want.”

“I’d love that.” You felt eyes on you, but didn’t bother look back at your parents, you didn’t need their disapproval on top of everything.

———

Shortly after the meal had been consumed, the beloved pastor directed everyone down a floor. There you were free to roam, anywhere that wasn’t roped off or locked, that is. The lower floor consisted of a showy kitchen, clearly never used, a few living rooms and garden access. You tugged Hongjoong into one of the pallor rooms, knowing it would be fairly empty from your previous visits. Sitting down on one of the hard, leather sofas, he turned to you.

“You did this on your own? For so long, no wonder you were so drained.” He sighed, pulling you into his chest comfortably. You hummed, relaxing against him in a second.

“It’s fine, you took me away from all of this.” You replied with a small smile, toying with the buttons on his shirt. He couldn’t help but grin, petting your hair affectionately.

“Well, I knew I’d fall in love the second I saw you.” His lips pressed against your head tenderly, a blush creeping up your neck. Hongjoong chuckled, stroking your cheek. “You look like a tomato.” You hit his chest.

“Ouch. A cute tomato!” He defended, making you both laugh. Just then, your mother entered the room, a look of relief on her face as she turned back to let your father know she’d found you. They came over, sitting on the sofa directly opposite. Hongjoong pulled you even closer, a subtle gesture that meant so much to you. For a minute, it was silent, an awkward atmosphere in the air. Eventually, your mother sat forward.

“You didn’t touch your food, are you still not eating much?” Her brows furrowed in concern.

“She eats, don’t worry.” Hongjoong responded for you, both your parents looking at him in surprise.

“You live together?” She asked, and you nod a yes. Surprisingly, they seemed okay about it, not what you’d expected at all.

“What do you do for work?” Your father looked at Hongjoong expectantly, yet with no malice.

“I own a studio. I do tattoos and piercings.” He explained proudly, prepared for a horrified reaction, as were you. Except, your father just hummed in response.

“It’s impressive to own your own place so young.” He complimented. Hongjoong looked at him in shock.

“Oh, thank you sir.” Neither of you knew how to take their behaviour. You were used to the yelling and berating, the constant judgement. And, of course, Hongjoong was expecting that too. But they just seemed so different. Turning to your boyfriend, you smiled.

“I’m just going to the bathroom.”

“I’ll go with you?” He offered with worry. Simpering, you kissed him quickly.

“I’ll be fine I promise.” You got up, heading out of the room and down the dim hall. Everyone you passed were in such high spirits, sipping their grape juice and cackling all the while. It baffled you how much the man could brainwash people.

You used the bathroom quickly, standing at the sink and washing your hands in the hot water. Glancing up, you let out a near scream upon seeing someone behind you in the mirror. It was the Pastors son. When had he come in, you hadn’t heard a thing. When he saw you’d noticed, a grim smirk appeared on his lips.

“Good evening (y/n).” You didn’t reply, turning slowly to face him. He stepped forward, making you move off of the sink and away from him. “What’s the matter? You don’t look so good.”

“What are you doing?” You tried to sound confident, voicing your confusion best you could. All the man did was smile.

“My question still stands.” He said, coming even closer. “We could wed. Oh we’d make a perfect couple.” He boasted, coming so close your back hit the white wall behind you. “We can fix your disgusting aesthetic. Get you to look pure and godly. Just as my father likes.” You shook your head fiercely, but this only annoyed him. “What? You think you’re better than us?”

“No!” You tried, hoping he’d stop but he only drew nearer. “Of course not! But look at me, we’re too different it won’t work.”

“My father can fix you!” He yelled, getting up in your face. His breath reeked of the disgusting meal served earlier.

“I-I don’t need fixing. I’m happy. I have a boyfriend.” Even that knowledge didn’t deter him.

“We can get rid of him. You’ll be happy with me. I’ll show you a real man.” His hands ghosted over your waist, trailing the shape of your body in a way that caused a shiver of fear.

“Now, now Ananias. That’s no way to talk to little (y/n) here is it.” The Pastor slithered into the room like a snake, tutting falsely. You swallowed thickly, back still pressed against the tiles. At least you now knew one of their names. Ananias looked at his father, hands hovering just before your neck.

“But I want her as my wife.”

“And you may, but use more force child. No woman wants a man who can’t handle her.” Your heart began to beat faster than you knew it could. There was no way this could be happening. Surely, with so many people around they wouldn’t, but it looked like they would.

Hongjoong kept his eyes on the door you had left through, feeling every second passing like a sin. Your mother cleared her throat, catching him off guard. When he looked, he found the pair of them looking at him already.

“How did you meet?” She asked, perching on the uncomfortable seat.

“She came in for a lip piercing, and then we went on a date that weekend.” He told her, not scared of any reprimanding he may receive. They looked at each other for a moment before your mum spoke again.

“She left us, one day. Did you take her in?” There was a hint of sadness in her inflection. Still, Hongjoong nod firmly.

“Yes. She lives with me now.” Looking between your parents, his lip twitched slightly. “We even work together. She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” He grinned, checking the time on his phone. You’d been gone ten minutes and he was getting worried.

“You’re a good man, Hongjoong.” Your dad said suddenly, making the younger man’s eyes widen.

“I can see the love and adoration in your eyes. It’s written all over your face. I’m glad my daughter found you.” He gave Hongjoong an approving nod, a tight-lipped smile nearly coming out. It was like they weren’t at manipulated as you’d described. Perhaps not seeing you had stirred something within them. Snapping out of it, Hongjoong checked the time again and stood abruptly.

“I’m going to find her, excuse me.”

Hongjoong rushed down the hall, vaguely recalling where the bathroom was on his way down. Noticing the door was ajar, he felt his stomach drop and instantly knew something was off. Without a second thought, he barged into the room and immediately saw both the pastor and his son cornering you.

“Get away from her!” He lunged forward, yanking the creepy men off of you and pulling you into his arms quickly. You hugged onto his waist for dear life, trembling slightly from what had almost happened. Feeling you shaking, Hongjoong looked at the Ken with anger.

“Don’t you dare touch her.” He spat, moving to get you out of there as fast as possible.

“Shes become a worthless tool now it seems.” The pastor sighed patronisingly. Hongjoongs eye twitched, and he spun on his heel, his fist connecting with the elders jaw furiously. Ananias gaped, cowering in the corner. Keeping his breathing under control, Hongjoong lead you out of the bathroom, holding you at arms length and checking you over. Seeing your tears almost made him angry again, but his worry ran deeper.

“You’re okay pretty, I’ve got you. Did they touch you?” You shook your head quickly, leaning into his warm hands as he wiped your tears. Hongjoong relaxed at this, hugging you tightly once again. He kissed your temple repeatedly. “We’re leaving. Right now okay?”

“Please..” you pleaded, needing to get out of that stupid house.

“Thank you.” Your mother appeared behind you both, and you looked at her in surprise. Both your parents glanced at you with regret, tears in the woman’s eyes. They had just witnessed all of that. “We’ve been so blind.” She added, choking up with emotion.

“You were right, we’re sorry. Could you forgive us?” Your father almost begged, edging forward. You stopped Hongjoong from scolding them, as you knew he would. Taking a deep breath, you stood in front of your parents trying to appear strong.

“Get help.” You started, letting your (e/c) eyes look between them. “Real, professional help. Then I’ll consider it. You really hurt me. But we can try.” They looked at you with a melancholy understanding. Nevertheless, it was a good sign. Hongjoong laced your fingers together, briskly walking past your parents and out of the house. Once in the safety of your car, you let out a long breath. It was all over, finally. You really never had to go back, ever again. you hadn’t even noticed your boyfriend driving off, until you looked out the window to see you were on the motorway.

“Can we get food still?” You mumbled. Hongjoong placed his hand on your thigh as he drove.

“Of course, pretty. We can do anything you like.” You finally smiled, playing with the rings on his fingers calmly. He really was your everything, the light that had brightened up your dark life. When he stopped at a red light, the man leant over, pressing his lips to yours lovingly. “The rest of your life just begun, (y/n).” He smiled, “and it’ll be us until we’re old and grey.” Warmth spread in your chest at the idea of growing old with Hongjoong. Truly, it sounded perfect, like for once, you knew everything would finally work out. As long as he was there with you.

———

#ateez fluff #ateez imagines #ateez x reader #kim hongjoong #hongjoong x reader #hongjoong #ateez angst #ateez fanfic #ateez scenarios #ateez #ateez fic

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somehow-a-human · 8 months ago

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The angels don't have to ask to enter the bookshop.

DO NOT ASK NEIL ABOUT FAN THEORY.

We've been operating under the assumption that BOTH the angels and demons have to ask to enter the bookshop, but I don't think that's true. I'm pretty sure it's one of our red herrings for season 2.

Continued under the cut.

When Gabriel shows up to the bookshop nude and oblivious, the doors are closed and (I believe) locked. Gabriel doesn't even know who or where he is, so he does what the default is... he knocks, and asks "Can I come in?" Aziraphale is frightened at first and tells him he can't come in but eventually our angels empathy wins and he says "Alright! Just... just get in!"

>> It's never clear that Gabriel would have physically been unable to come in otherwise.

When the Archangels show up Aziraphale literally cuts them off before they reach the door of the bookshop. Saraqael suggests, "Shall we discuss this inside?", and Aziraphale continues, "By all means. Would you like to come in?"

>> If Aziraphale hadn't rushed out to meet the angels, why wouldn't they have just walked into the bookshop like they did numerous times in season 1? Additionally I am fairly certain Aziraphale's "By all means. Would you like to come in?" was added in post via ADR. That doesn't necessarily add credence to anything, just an observation.

When Muriel arrives to surveil Aziraphale they ask, "Great! Well, could I come in and do it inside please? Only cause it's really noisy out here and I can't hear anything." Aziraphale replies, "By all means."

>> Muriel is an endearing angel who doesn't know much about life on earth, but had the shop been open and unlocked at the time of their arrival, they might've just wandered in as well.

We're never told the angels *can't* enter the bookshop explicitly like we are for the demons. We've always just assumed the same rules apply to all of the ethereal and occult beings.

But then, might I ask, why does Aziraphale tell us "Technically, this bookshop still counts as an Embassy"?

If the bookshop is still an embassy, the angels wouldn't need permission to enter, they would still have jurisdiction, and would still be able to monitor what's going on there... yes?

Let's compare this to the demons attempts to enter the bookshop, because Shax states clearly that she can't enter without permission. We see this again when she tries to get into the Bentley after it's canonically 'our car', and therefore at least partially owned by an angel.

I'm pretty sure John and Neil make a point of having the angels all ask in some way to enter, and Aziraphale seem to grant them permission as a red herring. They don't need to, but they want us to assume a false sense of security, to think that the bookshop is a safe space for our duo, outside of the reaches of both Heaven and Hell.

Technicalities are big in season 2 and I definitely think they're a huge underlying string running through all of Good Omens. In season 1, Crowley and Aziraphale stop Heaven and Hell from trying to restart Armageddon on a technicality. Gabriel and Beelzebub don't technically know if the great plan *is* the ineffable plan! It's definitely a favorite trope of Terry and Neil's to mock unfair, broken, bureaucratic systems, and Heaven and Hell are a PERFECT example of this.

**Somebody has written a meta on technicalities, I know I've seen it but I cannot for the life of me find it so if anyone could tag me so I could link it that would be brills! (Yeah that's right I'm adopting that from Charles from Dead Boy Detectives, 80's british slang ftw, I'm obsessed; please watch it, please, I need a second season.)

Neil has mentioned that the plot for season 3 might've had to be changed from he and Terry's original vision a bit, based on the political climate of the current day, and I'm sure that means we'll see some technicalities being the downfall of Heaven and Hells systems in Season 3 as well. I don't think the metatron is a villain, nor any of the other angels or demons. They're just fulfilling their function, following a set of rules, very much to a fault. This is all just God's big experiment after all, freewill, choice, eating the apple, and the angels and demons aren't exempt.

I wouldn't be surprised if there's some sort of technicality about the angels and demons themselves in season 3. We've seen that they're of the same stock, and we know Crowley at least is technically still the same person he was when he was an angel... more or less. Could the book of life end up revealing something like that the demons still exist perpetually as their angelsonas? A technicality, if you will?

Given the bookshop is still technically an embassy, is everything that happens inside observable by Heaven? Can they access the bookshop in their Earth Observation Files? There is some questionable blocking surrounding the bust in Aziraphale's bookshop, coupled with a curious record cover from Maggie's bookshop pointed out by @noneorother

Anyway... Let me know your thoughts. I haven't been posting as much, I have been mega busy and I'm trying to be thankful for it. Love you all, hope you have something nice happen for you today! <3

#good omens #good omens 2 #good omens meta #aziraphale #crowley #michael sheen #david tennant #crowley x aziraphale #good omens theories #good omens clues #good omens theory #good omens fandom #good omens clue #good omens 3 #good omens season 3 #ineffable husbands #ineffable idiots #go2

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whore-era · 2 years ago

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affinity - part 1

ellie williams x fem!reader

themes: angst, pining, best friends, unrequited love

summary: after being in love with your best friend for years, one drunken night changes everything.

a/n: this was torture to write. apologies in advanced.

word count: 3,689

1/3

“god, i’d give up my left leg to eat right now. i’m starving.” you groan out, the rumbling in your stomach erupting on cue.

ellie lets out a laugh, “you finished your sandwich already?” she packs her backpack with perishable canned foods, flinging it over her shoulder.

“hey, i didn’t have breakfast before i left this morning,” you defend, your eyes scanning the empty shelves of the abandoned food mart. not much, as usual. “the sandwich was tempting me.”

your best friend shakes her head, “what do i always tell you? ya gotta eat, you stubborn girl. we’re out here— running and fighting for our lives—6 to 8 hours everyday.”

“sorry, mother, won’t do it again,” you stick your tongue out to her, earning a glare from the green-eyed girl.

“c’mon, let’s get outta here and call it a day.” she says opening the front door, waiting for you. you nod and tuck the gun in the waistband of your jeans, walking towards the entrance. your untied shoelaces cause you to trip over your own feet, and you prepare yourself to face-pan on the floor, looking like a complete fool. but the moment never comes, as you feel strong arms catch you mid-fall.

you look up, making eye contact with those jade-green orbs you fell in love with all those years ago. she looks back at you, searching your face for any sign of injury. clearing your throat, you get back on your feet, trying to ignore the butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

“sorry. you know me, such a clutz,” you sputter out nervously, laughing to ease the tension as you both walk toward the two horses. “nah, no worries. but i do think you purposely leave your shoes untied just so i can catch you.”

“you wish, williams.” you retort, a false sense of confidence in your tone. hoisting yourself up on your horse, sunshine, you tug on the leads to begin the journey back to town.

ellie appears next to you, shimmer strolling alongside sunshine, looking breathtaking in the setting sun of wyoming. your heart flutters, and for a brief second, you think you’re having a heart attack. you would think after being best friends with ellie williams for five years that you would get used to seeing her face everyday, but that wasn’t the case for you at all.

it began slow, when you noticed the way your heart would pick up when she smiled at you or when you found yourself thinking of dumb puns just so you could hear her laugh. but you knew it was over for you when you found it hard to breathe after she accidentally kissed you after having one too many beers that she sacked from joel when you were both 15. it led you right to this moment, with a 5-year long crush and unrequited feelings for your oblivious best friend.

i mean, who could blame you? ellie williams was to die for. she was strong, brave, outgoing, charming, witty, protective, intelligent, and — well, it’d take you forever to list off everything amazing about her. there was about a handful of girls in town that feel the same way you do about ellie, and you were just lucky to bear witness to the numerous flings that ellie had with them, sarcasm included. fortunately for you, they never usually ended up in anything serious, as ellie was never really interested in being anything more than ‘special friends’, if you could catch her drift.

as for you, you never really attempted to look for anything with anyone else. anyone who showed any interest in you, which was not many people, faced rejection. it was sad enough to admit, but you were okay just being ellie’s best friend, even if it meant seeing her with other girls.

“i’m serious,” ellie chuckles, “you’re always eating shit and falling over, dude.” she shakes her head, “how did maria even approve you for patrol?”

“hey! i’ll have you know that she’s very impressed with my artillery skills,” you retort, earning an eye roll from your best friend.

“whatever, man, whatever helps you sleep at night,” she laughs, “speaking of maria, heard she’s having that party tonight?”

you hum in agreeance, admiring the setting sun glowing lavender and magenta on the white snow. “you gonna go?”

“hmm, maybe. dina and i were thinking about making an appearance— to gossip and drink, that typ’a stuff,” you respond, looking over at the auburn-haired girl. ellie was silent for a moment, seeming deep in thought.

“i think i’m gonna go with cat.”

your heart fell to your stomach. cat was ellie’s latest fling. they’ve been talking and messing around for almost a month, and by now, ellie would’ve quit whatever situation she had going on with her, but she didn’t.

“oh. really?”

“yeah. i like being around her, she’s cool and funny and gorgeous and she listens to cool music and— and i think you’d really like her, you both would get along.” ellie dotes, eyes all sparkly. yeah, i’d highly doubt we’d get along, but i’d certainly try for you though, els. you blink back tears, wiping your eyes with the back of your sleeve, pretending to brush dirt off your face.

this was the only thing you despised about being her best friend. she confided in you for everything, especially about the girls she was with. your heart cracked a bit everytime, which always ended up with you laying in bed at four in the morning, crying because of the girl you loved, but couldn’t have.

you stayed silent, too silent. your brain worked quickly to think of something to say before ellie suspected anything out of the ordinary.

“i bet.” you murmured, relieved by the sight of the gates appearing in the far distance. you wanted nothing more than to run back home and scream into your pillow. god, this whole one-sided crush thing was pathetic.

“i just— she’s different, you know? we talk for hours and hours and it’s never weird or anything, dude.” ellie rambles, and for once in your life, you wanted her to shut up, but you couldn’t bear to say that to her. “i think i’m gonna ask her to be my girlfriend — tonight, at the party.”

air caught up in your trachea, absolutely stunned by her statement.

“what happened to her ‘just being a fling?’” you cleared your throat, trying to hide the tears building up. you wanted nothing more than for a hole to open up in the ground so it can swallow you up in a black darkness — along with sunshine, so you had a companion.

“man, fuck that,” she scoffs, “cat is just..something else.”

you feel tears about to spill from your eyes, “well, congratulations, els. i am so happy for you.”

the worst thing about this whole thing was you were truly happy for her — well you tried your hardest to be. being a good friend meant supporting and being happy for the people you love, no matter what your feelings were.

you knew you were about to burst into tears, so you made a break for it, clicking your tongue and signaling sunshine to sprint towards the gates. you could hear ellie yelling behind you, but you didn’t care, you just wanted to be alone.

the guards opened the gates, allowing you in as sunshine began to slow down to a steady gallop, ellie following shortly behind. with a swiftness, you got off of sunshine and handed her lead to one of the stable boys, muttering a quick ‘thank you’ before quickly stalking off towards your home. your thoughts of wanting to be buried under the thick covers to cry for hours were interrupted as a firm hand grabbed your arm.

“hey!” ellie snapped, looking annoyed as you turned around, “what the fuck was that? you ditched me back there.”

you chewed on your bottom lip, trying to conjure up a dumb excuse. “sorry, i- uh- really needed to use the bathroom,” your hand rubbed your stomach, “don’t think the sandwich is sitting well.”

ellie narrows her eyes, and for a second you think she doesn’t believe you, but that disappears once her nose scrunches up and she laughs, “ewww,” she cringes, “go on then.”

you give a weak smile and turn around to continue your trek. maybe you could’ve handled that better. you did leave her alone, even if it was for second, but ellie would’ve never done that to you. letting out a groan, you rub your forehead, “ugh, i’m so stupid.” you whisper to yourself.

feeling guilty, you stop and turn to apologize to ellie for running off, but your heart breaks into two at what you see — ellie pressing cat up against the stables, her lips busy against hers, and you wished you never turned around at all.

“dinaaaaaaaaaaa, i need another one pleaseee,” you drag out your words, slamming the glass against the table. the brunette sighed, taking your glass away from you.

“i don’t think you should be having another one.” dina suggests, and while the sober version of you would’ve agreed, the intoxicated version of you protested.

“no! i need it, deens,” you whine out, “please. m’going through heartbreak right now.” you pout, and point to your boob, totally missing the place where your heart should be. dina rolls her eyes, eventually giving in and pouring you your fourth glass of whiskey.

your eyes light up, taking the glass and lifting it up, “cheeeeeers!!” you hurrah, before downing the glass in one gulp and slamming it down again.

dina sighs, glancing at jesse, who was almost..startled? he was mostly shocked at how many glasses of whiskey you were able to run through your system in a span of an hour and a half.

two hours before you arrived to maria’s party, after getting ready, you made a plan. a terrible, horrible plan, but it was a plan that you thought would be best — for everybody.

after spending most of the afternoon after patrol feeling sorry for yourself and crying for three hours, you wiped your tears and decided enough was enough, you had to get over these stupid feelings you had for ellie. you didn’t want to sabotage her new relationship with cat, so you thought it’d be a good idea to distance yourself from her instead.

it was unbearable for you to be around her already, without having the temptation to kiss her everytime you looked at her.

but seeing her with a girlfriend? you’d rather throw yourselves to a horde of runners for them to snack on like a delicious jumbo pack of beef jerky.

after creating your little plan, you dressed in your best and did your hair, and decided to add a little cherry on top of your plan by forgetting any and all feelings about ellie williams by getting absolutely shit-faced with hard liquor — your new bff.

two hours later, here you were, begging dina for a fifth glass. “pleeeeeeaaasseee, i’ll- i’ll- i’ll do your laundry for a month!” you bargained.

“as tempting as that sounds, no! you’re gonna puke your guts out in the morning— you’ll be thanking me for not giving you another drink,” she says, twisting the cap on the glass bottle, earning a pout from you.

“dina, i’ll do anything! i just- i just- wanna forget all about ellie,” you sigh, looking across the bar at cat, who’s sitting alone, possibly waiting for ellie to arrive. tears prick the corner of your eyes, and you look away, putting your face in your hands, “this hurts so bad.”

not even liquor can make you forget about ellie williams and how her name was permanently etched onto your heart for infinity.

dina scootches her chair next to you, pulling you into a side hug, and you weep into her shirt. she glances at jesse, and all they could feel for you was sympathy, knowing well how strongly you felt about ellie. it was clear to everyone, but ellie, how much you loved her. everyone advised you to tell just ‘tell her how you felt’ and you never listened to them, always saying it’d make your friendship too complicated.

but a part of you right now felt like you should’ve listened, feeling dejected by the thought of missing the only opportunity you had to be with her.

“i’m gonna go see if i can get maria to make her something to eat,” dina says standing up to step away towards the bar, “make sure she doesn’t have any more drinks.”

jesse’s eyes widen as he realizes he’s now left to babysit you.

dina leans on the barside tables, “maria!”

the older lady turns around as she pours a drink and sets it on the table for one of the customers to take, “hey, dina,” she greets, throwing a towel over her shoulder, “what can i get ‘ya?”

“just a water and a little something to eat,” dina orders.

“sure thing. we could whip up a quick sandwich or we also have peanuts or chips in the back, take your pick.”

the brunette thinks for a second, “uhh, just give me whatever’s convenient. it’s not for me anyways, it’s for her,” dina nods towards you, her eyes widening as she sees you chugging the brown liquor from the glass bottle, with jesse attempting to pry the bottle from your hands. maria laughs and shakes her head.

“what’s her deal tonight?”

“uh, heartbreak,” dina mutters, rubbing the back of her neck, “ellie told her she was gonna ask cat to be her girlfriend tonight when they were out during patrol.”

the older woman sighs, looking down and grabbing the towel from her shoulder to wipe the sticky table. “they both have to fess up already, or else they’re both gonna lose each other.”

dina’s brows furrow, “what do you mean?”

“yeah, sure, everyone knows she loves ellie. anyone can see it,” maria pauses, “but if you focus hard enough on those two, you can see that ellie is just as head over heels for her, if not more. hell, i don’t even think she’s realized it herself.” maria bends down and opens a small fridge, taking out a wrapped sandwich.

“you think so?”

“i know so.” maria puts a cup of ice water on the table alongside the wrapped sandwich, before taking the next customers order.

with the glass of water and sandwich in hand, dina returns back to the table, greeted by the sight of you and jesse fighting over the liquor bottle.

“i will put my fist up your butt if you don’t give me that back!” you shout as jesse’s grip doesn’t budge from the shiny bottle.

“you’ve had enough, you little monster!” jesse yells as he gives another hard yank to the bottle, breaking it from your grip. dina lets out a laugh, before she sits down next to you, pulling you down with her so you can take a seat, but you trip over and nearly miss the chair entirely.

“whoops,” you giggle, completely plastered.

steadying yourself and sitting on the hardwood chair, dina holds the glass of water up towards your lips, “drink up.”

you take a sip of water, and cower at the bland taste, “heeeyy, this isn’t whiskeeee,” you whine.

“you need it, so you don’t wake up all sick and stuff,” dina says, attempting to persuade you to drink more water and sway you away from any ideas of sipping on alcohol again.

“no, i don- i don’t need that,” you garble, “what i do need is- is- is ellie.”

at the mention of ellie’s name again, you break out into tears. this was the night that jesse and dina realized you were an extremely, emotional drunk.

“okay, that’s it,” jesse says standing up, “we’re taking you home.”

you gasp, “no! i promise no more drinks!” you attempt to hold onto the table, but to no avail, jesse easily gets you on your feet and holds you steady on your left side.

“c’mon, dina, take her other side.” dina goes to your right and puts her arm around your waist, making sure you have no chances of slipping out of her grip.

“pleeeeaaassseee, don’ let them take me away!!” you shout to the bystanders as jesse and dina drag you away from the event and towards the doors of the bar, gaining some stares and laughs from the other partygoers.

as the cold, winter night air hits you in the face, the three of you are greeted by the person you wanted so badly to forget about tonight.

“uh, hey, guys,” the green-eyed girl greets, “leaving already?”

jesse and dina look at each other nervously, with you still in their hold. “yup, someone partied too hard.” jesse says, laughing a little bit too awkwardly.

ellie takes you in, glancing at your inebriated state; eyes all hazy and glossed over, letting out little giggles here and there, and can barely stand on their own two feet.

“so, if you don’t mind, we’ll be taking her home,” dina clears her throat, “jesse get her keys.” jesse quickly lets go of you, sending you stumbling over to the side, bringing dina along with you.

ellie rushes over to your side and snakes her arm around your waist, holding you close to her body. butterflies erupted in your stomach once again. even in your extremely drunken condition, your body knew how to respond when ellie was around.

jesse pats your pockets, and doesn’t feel anything, “nothing, she doesn’t have her keys.”

“hehe, i think i forgot them. dunno where they are,” you giggle, feeling all warm and drowsy all of a sudden, and your head leans over to the side, coincidentally on ellie’s shoulder.

“shit. how the fuck do we get her home and in bed then?” dina sighs out.

“i’ll take her back to mine and let her sleep over.” ellie decides without a second thought, taking your arm and putting it over her shoulder.

dina’s hesitant, “you sure? you just got here.”

“of course. don’t want her getting hurt or ending up god knows where,” ellie lets out a laugh, “just do me a favor and tell cat i’ll make it up to her tomorrow.”

the pair both nod and head back in the bar, whereas you were too busy looking at ellie’s face and how all her features looked perfect in the soft glow of the lights shining through the windows from the bar.

“you have greeeen eyes,” you comment, your eyes in total awe as ellie guides you back to her shed.

“yup, i do,” ellie laughs, amused by your drunk comments.

“my best friend has greeeen eyes,” you slurred out, “you kin’a look like her.”

“yeah?”

“mmmhhhmmm, her- her name is ellie and she’s the best,” you smile at the thought of ellie, completely unbeknownst that she was the one holding onto you, “i-i love her.”

“i’m sure ellie loves you too,” ellie assures. you shake your head.

“nuh uh, she doesn’t,” you counter, “ellie loves me. i love love ellie.”

the girl laughs, “what? love love? what does that mean?”

“i’m in looooove with ellie, dumb dumb.”

ellie stops in her tracks, causing you to retract and fall back, sending her on top of you. ellie was astounded, barely registering the fact that you’re both on the snow.

“what?” maybe ellie heard incorrectly. you were drunk and babbling nonsense, but she still had to make sure.

“i,” you point to yourself, “am in love with ellie williams.” you manage to let out clearly, wincing from the melted snow seeping into your clothes. ellie gets up on her feet and pulls you up, brushing the snow off your clothes and hair.

“you’re just- you’re just drunk.” ellie tries to find some explanation to all of this, and that was the most rational one she could think of. she secures her arm onto you again, continuing the short walk to her place.

“nope, nope, nope,” you shake your head, “i have been in loveee with ellie for— one, two, three, four, five— five years!” you count your fingers. “but, she doesn’t love me back.”

you begin to cry again, nestling your face into her chest. still unaware you were with ellie, the very person you were crying over, “she told me she was gonna- she was gonna-” you pause to wipe your tears, “she was gonna ask cat to be her girlfriend.”

ellie’s heart tore at the sight of one of the most important people in her life crying, and it was all because of her. she didn’t know what to think, she wanted to believe that you were saying all this stuff because you were drunk, but a part of her doesn’t believe it — a drunk man’s words is a sober man’s thoughts.

rumaging in her pockets, she took her key out as you both neared her shed. her arm still secured around your waist, ellie unlocked her door and hauled you over her bed, pulling the blankets back, and sitting you down on the sheets.

ellie’s mind was running a mile a minute, thinking about your confession minutes prior, but she was still intent on taking care of you. she bent down to untie your shoes and tie your hair out of your face, ensuring you’d be more comfortable sleeping this way.

pouring some extra water she had in a cup, she brings it towards your lips, “open.” you obey her command and part your lips, taking small sips of water, your eyes having difficulty staying open as you began to feel sleepy.

ellie placed the cup on the nightstand and she gently laid you back in her bed, pulling a blanket over you. before she knew it, you were out like a light, gentle snores coming from your mouth.

ellie let out a heavy sigh and sat down on her couch, unable to shake the events that took place tonight — any ides of making cat her girlfriend fading further and further away from her mind.

affinity - part 2 here

#ellie williams #ellie tlou #ellie williams tlou #the last of us #the last of us ellie #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x you #ellie x reader #tlou #ellie x fem reader #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x reader angst #ellie x reader angst #ellie x fem!reader

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genderkoolaid · 1 year ago

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Do you genuinely believe we can somehow change the hearts and minds of billionaires and politicians in power in for example the USA in a way that will actually result in a radical change in and improvement of conditions for folks currently oppressed under capitalism in the USA and hopefully globally? If so, how?

This is coming from someone who really would like to believe pure nonviolence is possible but who does not see much of an actual way forward for that. That said I do not see those billionaires and politicians as "nonhuman", I don't think that's productive and I think dehumanizing anyone who is factually a human person as a practice is dangerous so I am in agreement with you there. Thanks for your time if you choose to share your thoughts.

What I like about Against the Logic of the Guillotine is that it isn't for pure nonviolence. It breaks down the false binary that our options are "let the streets run red with blood until our every thirst for revenge is slaked" or "punching nazis makes you as bad as them 🥺"

& i think that binary is tempting because it absolves us of a responsibility to think deeply about things. if all revolutionary violence is good and justified, then you don't have to think too hard about the violence, you just see it & condone it. If all violence is bad and morally evil, then you still don't have to think too hard to condemn it. Our options are like, moral baby food.

But if we reject that binary, then there is no easy answer. Its not as easy as "yes leftist violence is always justified" or "any violence ever is always unjustified." You have to ask yourself, what am I doing? Why? What does this accomplish? Who is affected by this? What do they have to say? It makes us look at the actual nature of our violence and pick it apart and see where we have fucked up and where we might fuck up again. Its a lot more messy and also requires that we form relationships with others & genuinely listen to what they have to say. Its much much harder than Violence Good or Violence Bad but its also much more capable of adapting to the needs of people in the complicated situations where we find ourselves.

My opinion is that we will not reach anti-capitalism and anti-imperialism without violence. But more than anything, its because the systems in power will not let us. I think the foundation of the Revolution (in a more abstract sense of the word) must be community. We should focus our efforts most on building local networks of mutual support. If people suddenly find themself in a community that has free public food gardens & a community fridge, where people are already practicing transformative justice, etc. etc. then it will become materially obvious that we don't need to rely on the current system to survive. It will become clear that the current system is more of a hindrance to what we could do if we were not being controlled. And then people will be more likely to support any revolutionary violence that becomes necessary, because they will see their neighbors and know that when the dust settles, they know how to care for each other through shitty situations. Violence should really be the topping on a cake of community & indispensability politics.

Also this line from AtLotG really changed my perspective on "punishing the rich":

The worst punishment anyone could inflict on those who govern and police us today would be to compel them to live in a society in which everything they’ve done is regarded as embarrassing—for them to have to sit in assemblies in which no one listens to them, to go on living among us without any special privileges in full awareness of the harm they have done. If we fantasize about anything, let us fantasize about making our movements so strong that we will hardly have to kill anyone to overthrow the state and abolish capitalism. This is more becoming of our dignity as partisans of liberation.

"If we fantasize about anything, let us fantasize about making our movements so strong that we will hardly have to kill anyone to overthrow the state and abolish capitalism" really sums it up for me.

#sorry if this is kind of a mess i am So pain and fatigue rn #my body is taking disability pride month way too seriously #m.#ask box

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fight-nights-at-freddys · 1 month ago

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idk how many of you are on tiktok/care about tiktok drama, but there’s someone on there by the name of Jax that’s being accused of being a pedo/rape apologist because he cosplayed as jimmy from mouthwashing, and liked a couple genshin characters.

There’s a whole doc about him (it's a public doc, so i don't feel bad sharing. and no, you're not missing anything, that's all the context anyone really has for this situation. it's so disjointed and messy).

this is all he said. this was the joke that's getting him called a rape apologist. the joke isn't even that rape's funny, the joke is that jimmy's a bad person. that's IT. everything about the pedo accusations under the cut bc there's A LOT.

so to start, for context, Jax is 20-21, mimi is 23, cat is 20, and the "minor interactions" happened 2 years ago.

i will quickly say, some of the things he did was bad, mmmkay? he probably shouldn't have had his underage brother cosplay as curly with what he said abt curly, but honestly, i have complicated opinions about that, too. he def shouldn't have been using a tiktok filter and asking what his underage brother would or wouldn't stick his dick in, and maybe he was weird towards a coworker, but i wasn't there so i don't really know, and yes, the roblox online dating comment was weird. there's stuff to criticize him on, don't get me wrong, but he's not a pedo or rape apologist.

so! a lot of the pedo accusations comes from

him saying he was going to "wife [mimi's] pfp" (a pic of vash tristamp),

thirsting over/shipping himself with a few "underage" genshin characters (gorou, itto, and chongyun),

shipping two "underage" genshin characters together and calling them lesbians (qiqi and yaoyao)

post "mpreg kink content" on main "to his minor followers/mutuals",

posting "inappropriate content" on main "to his minor followers"

this is the gist of it, but there's a few more pics of the same kinda stuff in the doc. point is, none of this matters, or makes you a pedo, or a predator, or ANYTHING.

and that "inappropriate content" he posts on main? it's just him in a bra, or wearing what some may consider revealing clothing. but imo, at the end of the day, it's not that serious. i wouldn't criticize someone in public for wearing this stuff, so why do i care if it's on tiktok.

i also can't help but think that if he were a skinny, conventionally attractive guy, no one would comment on his body like this. don't even get me started on people they/them-ing him or calling him 'it', when his pronouns are made VERY CLEAR.

i am just. so pissed off at this stuff. misusing these words, and downplaying the seriousness of them, as well as hurling false accusations at someone who literally did nothing to deserve them does nothing but hurt everyone. and frankly. shame on both cat and mimi for calling him a pedo/creep/rape apologist.

i hate it here.

#i've been thinking(seething) about this for days.#i also just learned they all live in NC so i guess i gotta move now #proship #profic #proshippers please interact #anti anti #profiction #🏁🎸

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selfloathingpoet · 1 month ago

Text

No good deed goes unpunished.

Smoke filled the Hero’s lungs as they stumbled forward, legs moving shakily under them. The only thing that reassured them that they were still alive was the pounding beat in their chest and the blood seeping through the fingers. There was fire, everywhere, for as far as they could see. They flinched as they heard something smash to the ground, snapping them out of the shock. The city, their city, the one they had worked their entire life to protect was now crumbling underneath their feet. They looked around briskly, trying to see if they could find any face they would recognize, Superhero, Sidekick, Other Hero, someone! They fell to their knees, crying out in pain as the held their hand up to their face. All they saw was red. They could see fire reflected back to them in their own blood. It was all around them now, in their lungs, in their eyes, in their hair, their curls now frizzed out and blowing around them, tickling their face and waving around like a flag of surrender. They could feel it in their heart to, that burning voice telling them to “keep fighting!” or “get up!”

As they knelt next to the steps of the now burning town hall, they wished again that someone, anyone would come and help them. Come and save them so that for once could finally get just a moment to rest. Their prayers were soon answered in the most paradoxical way possible because when they looked up again they saw none other than Villain themself.

“Well well well…look at what we have here.” The villain drawled, their voice calm despite all of the chaos around them. But, the Villain thrived in chaos, the Hero supposed. Why shouldn’t they feel anything but serene in this tumultuous climate?

The hero tried to speak, but all it did was send them into a coughing fit. They pushed themself up onto their feet, catching their balance.

“St-stay away from me..”. The Hero choked out, sounding less like an order and more like a plea.

The villain winched, a false look of pity etching their face. “That’s quite the scratch you’ve got there.”

Hero gripped their side tighter, sneering up at their arch enemy “Why are you doing this, Villain?”

“Oh well you know what they say, no good deed goes unpunished.” Villain smirked as they made their way down the steps, careful to not slip on the Hero’s own blood. “And besides, wouldn’t want to miss that look on your face for the world..”

“No that’s not..you can’t just do this Villain.”

“Oh?” The Villains eyebrow raised “I cant?”

“You… Please Villain, don’t do this.” The Hero breathed out the words. They’d hardly ever begged for anything in their life. They knew it wouldn’t get them far, especially with the Villain. But..what else could they say?

“Oh! This is my favorite part!” The Villain laughed, clapping their hands together gleefully. “What will you beg me for, Hero? To spare your life? No…you’re much too selfless for that. Perhaps the lives of your team? The lives of the “innocent civilians” you’ve fought so hard to protect?” The Villain was mocking them, that much was clear. Although they couldn’t really tell with the ringing in their ears and their vision starting to fade. What would happen if they just…

“Please Villain, stop this! I’ll…I’ll do anything..Just please, leave them alone..” The Hero trailed off, their knees were now on the ground again, aswell as their hands. They were bracing themself, why was the world spinning so fast?

The Villain clicked their tongue, shaking their head. “Always the Heroics with you, Hero.” The Hero could feel a hand, gently petting their hair. “But, since you’ve asked so nicely..”

The next thing the Hero knew there was a hand under their knees and a hand on their back. They were being hoisted up right into the villains arms.

“It seems that you’re coming with me, dear Hero.”

And that was the last thing Hero knew before everything faded to black.

#writing #writing prompt #villain x hero #heros and villains #writblr #hero x villain #hero x villian prompt #prompt #snippet #enemies with benefits #protagonist x antagonist #creepy whumper #creepy villain #superhero whump #whump #villain whumper #whump scenario #is this a wicked reference?#perhaps😏

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flippinpancakes64 · 5 months ago

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can you write cullens x reader who is insecure about their acne? 😽

The Cullens with a reader who is insecure about their acne

Again with you people being inside my walls. I’m convinced someone has a camera in here.

Thank you for requesting and I hope you enjoy!

Edward:

He thinks you’re perfect either way

He loves you, acne or not

He’s rich so if you want to do like a chemical peel or something else that’s expensive but will help with the acne he will do it no questions asked

And yes you can use his cold hands if your face starts to burn up from it

He hears what people think, but he doesn’t tell you

And if anyone tries to say something to you they are getting decked

Alice:

This is her department

She’s all about fashion and makeup, i feel like she knows about skincare too

She does everything she can to help you

Creams, treatments, washes

But she’s also very clear that she loves you no matter what

She’s helping you because you want the help

She also doesn’t lead you on with false hope

“I just saw that this cream doesn’t actually help you much in the future, so let’s try something else”

Jasper:

Genuinely doesn’t notice

He just sees you, feels your beautiful emotions, and loves you

But he definitely understands the most out of everyone

He has all of his scars that he hates but he can’t control

On really bad days, he uses his ability to help you feel better

But again he’s super supportive in anything that you try to help get rid of your acne

He reads up a bit on what’s supposed to help the most and he tries to do that

But more than anything he’s very understanding

Rosalie:

She is perfect, so you’re a little hesitant to bring up your insecurities around her

But she’s so nice

She keeps up with beauty trends and products throughout the years, so she has some stuff for you to try

She will do anything with you

You feel weird about using this new product? She’ll get in the bathroom with you and put it on too

And don’t even get me started on people at school

I’ve already established she will kill someone for being mean to you

That still applies here

Emmett:

He feels a lil crazy

He genuinely didn’t even notice that you had acne

Bro thought it was freckles or moles or smthn

So when you start complaining about it saying you hate it he’s like “no you’re perfect i love your birthmarks”

Cue the deadpan from you

He just steps back from that side of things

He lets you handle that cause he doesn’t know what he’s talking about lol

But he will beat a bitch up for you so you have that going at least

Esme:

She knows the struggle

I feel like she probably had pretty bad acne for a while when she was a teenager

She tells you all of the things that used to help her

She’s there for you every step of the way

Constantly reassuring you that she still finds you attractive no matter what

And yes she will fund any treatment you want to try

She just loves you and wants you to be happy

Carlisle:

Just looked it up, he is a surgeon (meow 😼 yummy)

So dermatology is not his strong suit

But working in a small town he has to know a little about everything

So he can help you on the surface level (telling you to wash your face, what foods to avoid, etc)

But he’s much quicker to schedule you an appointment with an actual dermatologist

But again, this only happens if you expressly state that you hate your acne and want it fixed

You don’t have to change anything for him

Vampire! Bella:

Some kids used to call her pizza face in middle school

So she knows the feeling

Nothing ever worked for her tho so she doesn’t really know how to help

It just sort of evened out as she got older

But she’s supportive with whatever you want to do

Or don’t want to do

If you never try anything to get rid of your acne then she’s okay

She loves you for you and you don’t need to change anything for her

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notafunkiller · 1 year ago

Text

sweet nothing

Summary: Bucky and you attend an awards show, but an interviewer makes sure to ruin your night before it even starts. The loss of your project makes you have a breakdown when you get home, and Bucky does his best to comfort you.

Pairing: director!Bucky Barnes x actress!reader

Warnings: 18+, age gap (r is 24, Bucky is 36), teasing, dirty talk, language, pet names, fingering, oral sex (the reader receiving), clit play, come eating, a little metal arm kink, daddy kink, no condom (but they are both clean and the reader is on birth control), no mention of y/n

Word Count: 4.2K

story masterlist

Bucky Barnes masterlist

A/N: Bucky’s look is obviously inspired by Sebastian’s appearance at D23 Expo in 2022. Also, this happens a few months after the second part, in October.

An extra thank you to @marvelouslizzie and @lavenderhaze967 for being my beta readers and for the endless support.

Please, do not repost or translate without my permission!

You really can’t decide what to say. The remark came so unexpectedly, you were taken aback.

You don’t know how they knew about your vacation. The photos and some false info were spread all over the internet, and you found out only after you came back home.

You expected things to calm down from July until now, though, but they didn’t. They actually became worse and worse. But despite that, you didn’t even think you were going to get this type of comment tonight, especially since you announced you refuse to talk about your personal life. You should have known better… Bucky was right, you can never trust the press and you should never have expectations.

“Even though this has nothing to do with tonight and I said I won’t talk about anything related to my personal life multiple times...”

“I wasn’t-” The interviewer tries to interrupt you, surprised by your cold tone, but you don’t let her. If they want to speculate, then at least you can let it out now. They can do whatever they want after.

“To make things clear, Mr. Barnes is actually one of the most professional people I’ve ever worked with… one of the best: kind and supportive, and he always gives the best feedback.”

“Miss-”

You ignore her once again, raising your hand to stop her. “He is blunt, honest, and hasn’t been anything but professional the whole time. He made a massive contribution to the film industry and he’s been in the public eye for so long... If you had done your research, you’d have known how everyone, especially the women he worked with, talked and talk about him.” You take a deep breath, trying to keep your composure before you look straight at the camera. “Also, no, I did not sleep with him or anyone else to get any kind of role. Thank you!”

You don’t realize how much you’re shaking or how many tears you were holding back until you reach the bathroom. You’re thankful Bucky is inside already. He doesn’t deserve this shitty attitude, and you know he would have made a scene and stopped this on the spot if he’d witnessed it.

So you don’t tell Bucky about it, not wanting to give him bad vibes, especially since you know how he already feels about going to events in general. Your table is full when you get there: a part of the cast and the crew along with Bucky’s manager. Natasha couldn’t come this time, but you know everyone, so it’s better than you expected.

“Wine?” Bucky asks you softly, leaning in so only you can hear him.

“Later, please. I have a small headache.”

“Oh, no, baby.” He kisses your forehead as soon as you finish talking. “Do you need a pill?”

You love how he never hides or tries to keep his distance when you go out together. Maybe it’s nothing much after all, but you know how discreet he is, how much he values privacy, and it makes you truly feel a part of his life.

“Don’t worry, it will go away.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes, yes.” You brush it off with a smile, and he nods, unsure, getting back in his chair properly.

You can’t let your emotions eat you alive, anger or nervousness... you just can’t. But it’s easier said than done because time passes so slowly until your categories are announced. Not even joking around with Bucky’s manager helps. She has such amazing vibes usually, but you are too deep in your thoughts to fully embrace them.

By the time the nominees in your category are announced, Bucky gets you all ice cream, making sure they put two spoons for you: one with chocolate and another with biscuits. It’s so delicious, but you instantly stop eating when the small video with a few of your scenes is projected. People around you clap loudly, but you can’t look around much, your cheeks so flushed when the camera stops on you again. Bucky even whistles using the index and middle fingers of his flash hand, which makes you giggle. He’s so cute!

“And the winner for Best Actress in a Drama is...”

It’s like the world stops for a second: the tension, the lack of air, the ringing in your ear... you can’t hear anything. But you can read body language and see everyone’s shoulders falling. You don’t dare to look at Bucky, only smiling in joy for whoever won and trying to hold back tears. Every woman on that list deserves it. They are all fantastic. You aren’t upset because someone else won. You just feel like a failure because you lost. It’s like you disappointed the people who care about you, who took a shot with you. Bucky... who saw something in you and risked it. You know how silly it is because he isn’t the type of person who would even think that, but you can’t just control the train of thoughts that keeps overwhelming you.

“I’m so sorry, baby.”

You still can’t look at your sweet, comforting Bucky. Fuck, such a crybaby... You just nod and take your spoon with your right hand so you can have more ice cream.

He better wins!

The movie loses shortly after you, and it’s your turn to comfort him. You don’t pay attention to the camera focusing on you or Lucas tapping on his arm in a consolation gesture when you turn your face toward him and kiss his cheek. “I’m sorry, bubba.”

He melts instantly under your touch. “Don’t be.”

But how can you not be? It makes your insides burn. This man you know so well professionally and personally deserves every fucking award this industry has. He is fantastic! The movie was fantastic, too.

The urge to cry takes over you the moment the winner of the best director category is announced, but it’s not Bucky. And you think he senses it because he squeezes your thigh gently to assure you. You…

You cannot believe this.

You have a bitter taste in your mouth for the rest of the night there, which is short since Bucky suggests leaving earlier. You hate awards ceremonies officially, too.

The car ride is no better. You find it harder and harder to hold back your tears, and the last thing you want is Bucky to see. He asked you if you were hungry, and asked you to stay over at his place. How could you say no? No, Bucky, I want to go home and cry angry and disappointed. You spend most of your nights at his house anyway, so it would make him worry. Especially since the distance to your apartment is longer.

You let a deep breath out when he closes the door, turning on the lights as you start to take off your shoes.

“Home sweet home.” He gives you a tired smile.

“Ihm. Finally.” You don’t trust your voice to say more than that and you let your bag and phone on the small table before going straight to the kitchen.

“Next time we’re invited, we ditch to watch a movie or something and make love.”

His words are enough to send you over the edge somehow. When you hear his footsteps closer, you instantly turn around to face the sink, grabbing the kitchen counter in an attempt to hold back the tears. But it’s so hard…

“Baby?”

Fuck, he’s so close.

“Bubba?”

And that’s all you need to burst into tears. But you’re not just crying, you are fully sobbing when you feel his arms wrapping around you.

“Bubba, breathe, please.” He rests his head on your shoulder, and you feel so naked, so bare in a way... Something you feared for so long. You are vulnerable in a way you only let your family see you, not even them maybe. It’s like you’re giving him access to your inner child. And it’s terrifying.

“I-I’m ss-sorry.” You are gasping for air between words, and this makes you feel even worse. You sound so pathetic.

“What are you sorry for, bubba? Focus on breathing, please.” Bucky’s voice is so calm and soothing, you almost let yourself fall into his arms. You can’t believe this safe sensation you feel. It’s shocking to you. You trust him to hold you and comfort you even when you look this deplorable.

“In and out.” You breathe in and out every time he says the words and it slowly becomes easier; the air doesn’t feel like it burns your lungs anymore.

You feel his kisses on the back of your head. “Good girl, perfect. Just like that.”

You open your eyes as soon as your body stops trembling and turn to him instantly. You probably look like a wet raccoon, but you don’t care. You hug him so tight you wonder if he can even breathe. But you can’t let go.

Bucky’s glad he took off his jacket since the zipper would have hurt your face.

“I’m right here, not going anywhere.”

“I’m ss-sorry,” you say weakly, taking a step back. “It’s just so unfair!”

His whole face softens even more. He understands... your first nominee and your first loss. This is never easy, especially for someone ambitious and talented.

“I know it hurts, but I promise you more will come, and they will finally give you the awards you deserve. You were amazing.” He takes your hands into his and brings them to his mouth.

“It’s not about me!”

“What?”

“You deserved to win!” You can’t control the anger in your voice. “This movie, the whole concept, the team... Maybe it’s because of the way I-”

“Stop right there! You have nothing to blame yourself for. And you don’t have to feel bad for me, okay, bubba?” His mouth finds your forehead. “Of course, it bothers me a little, but these awards come and go. Sure, some bring more opportunities, but I don’t give a fuck about it. You were a fantastic lead. You are fantastic! But I promise you, you will get more awards because you deserve them. I was mad for you. Don’t worry about me, alright?”

“But you deserve it!”

“It’s just an award, baby. I am proud of this project and of everyone who was a part of it, especially you. It wasn’t easy and it was emotionally draining.”

He wipes your face, and you curse. You should have worn waterproof mascara.

“I just don’t...”

“Don’t ever blame yourself again.” He pauses. “Actually, you will because you can’t control that, it’s not a switch. What I mean is don’t try to hide from me, don’t let the thoughts overwhelm you before talking to me. Or someone... anyone: your sister, your mom, Natasha. I just want you to know I am here for you.” He kisses your lips shortly. “I got you, and you got me.”

He barely has time to finish his sentence before you grab his face and kiss him, your tongue immediately licking his bottom lip. It’s something about the way he reacted, about his permanent attitude and the way he looks that makes you dizzy. So dizzy that you easily switch from feeling anger and fear to sexual desire.

You keep kissing him until you two can’t breathe anymore. He’s so sweet, so good. You can’t help it...

“I want to suck your cock.”

He opens his eyes instantly.

“What?”

“Want to take you inside my mouth. Now.” You repeat with such urgency that his shock is increasing.

“Wait, you don’t have to-”

But his words die as your hands are already on his belt, taking it off in seconds. When it loudly hits the floor, you unzip the pants, dragging them down along with his boxers with force. So much force he gasps.

“Please, daddy.”

You drop to your knees in seconds, making sure to properly grab the base before leaning in to kiss his wet head.

“Jesus!”

He has to grab the kitchen counter behind you to stand still.

“Just me.” You smirk a little and take more of his cock inside your mouth. He’s getting harder little by little. When you start to move your hand , though? He finally gets in his usual horny mood, understanding you really want this.

“Fuck, look at you! On your knees just for me. So needy!”

You moan, bringing your left hand to his balls as you start to bob your head. You just want him to come.

“Baby, please. Fuck me!” He groans, and you suddenly feel your hair getting pulled hard as if he’s trying to get you away from his cock. You stop sucking just to snap:

“Why are you taking my cock from me?”

“Because it wants to be inside my pussy.”

You snort.

He helps you stand up and kisses you without any worry. You moan when you feel his hands on your breasts, then to your sides, and before you can even say anything, you hear the sound of the material ripping.

“Hurry up!” You complain, waiting for him to finish undressing you as you keep kissing his neck.

Your bra and underwear are next and you can’t believe how free you feel.

“You are so fucking beautiful!”

“Need you, please...”

He nods, immediately lifting you in his arms, and you don’t stop kissing him until your back hits the bed.

“How do you want me?” You ask, and he frowns.

“What do you mean?”

“Position, Bucky.” You try to clean your face with the back of your hand as you wait for his answer.

“We can start like this.” He gets between your legs and lifts them on his shoulders. His hair is messy, all over his forehead, and you giggle, brushing it away from his eyes.

You’re so wet he gets inside you in one movement, and you both moan. The fullness is so good, you arch your back. Sex with Bucky will never get boring, you are sure of it. He’s a perfect combination between caring, desperate, and curious.

“Bucky!”

“Yes, bubba, I’m here.” He kisses you as he starts to thrust. “I’m right here.”

Your legs are wrapped around his ass, pushing him inside you harder every time he pulls almost completely out.

“God, I love your cock so much!”

“Just that?” He pouts, making you laugh. He’s a baby and a daddy at the same time.

“I love you, bubba, you know that.”

“And I” thrust “want” thrust “to hear” thrust “it again and again.”

“Fuck.” You close your eyes, turning your face to the side without realizing.

“Eyes on me, doll. Eyes on daddy.”

“It’s hard...” you cry out, even more turned on by him calling himself your daddy. It fits him so much!

“Fine.” He uses his metal arm to turn you around on your tummy.

“Bucky!” You scream because of the sudden movement and the empty feeling since he pulled out.

“Hands and knees since you don’t want to look at me.”

You shake your head, amused, but you get in the position, raising your ass as much as you can. You love when he fucks you like this. Everything feels deeper, and there’s no distance despite the fact you can’t properly see him or kiss him. “So dramatic of you.”

You flinch without realizing when you feel his palm connecting with your ass cheeks.

“Does it hurt?”

“No, no.” You quickly assure him, looking up when you hear his worried tone. He never spanks you too hard, and the amount of strength he uses makes you enjoy it. It always makes you wet. “Just didn’t expect it.”

“Good.” He kisses your forehead. “Ready?”

“Hurry!”

He quickly gets inside you as soon as you finish speaking, and you gasp. It takes your breath away, but you can’t help but wiggle your ass. His hands grab your hips and he finally starts to literally pound you just the way you both enjoy it. His cold metal fingers feel so good.

“B-Bucky!”

“Do you love it, baby?” You hear him, but you don’t understand how he expects you to answer. You can’t even breathe properly.

“Ihm.”

“Fuck, you’re so wet around me. I love you so much.”

You try to tell him you love him back, but the words are so distorted you give up.

You’re close already.

“Are you gonna come for me? Are you gonna be a good girl and let go? Make daddy prouder?”

And just like that, you come. You don’t hear anything anymore: you can’t distinguish the words, only his voice. You feel so good, so light, that you don’t realize the wave of tears that hits you.

Bucky smiles, knowing these are from so much pleasure, and doesn’t continue to thrust much until he comes inside you. You moan again, encouraging him to fill you. To give you as much come as he has.

“Yes, yes. Please, need your come.” And you know he loses his mind every time you do that. “Please, daddy.”

A few seconds later, you feel him move his hands.

“Fuck me, baby, this was incredible.”

You nod, trying to find your words again.

“Yes, it... it was.” He helps you turn around after he gets out of you and groans.

“You look so fucking good! Perfect to eat right now.”

He makes you laugh before you slowly kiss him, moaning when your tongues find each other. There is something unique about the way he uses that mouth.

“I mean it. Gonna eat you now, ok?”

It’s the only warning you get before your head drops to the bed again and his is between your legs. His shoulders are broad enough to keep your legs extra spread, and you try to keep your eyes open just to enjoy the sight.

But it’s hard. His tongue on your clit then at your entrance, licking and eating his own come combined with yours makes you so weak you have to grab his hair to have a focus point other than his mouth.

“Jamesss.”

Your hips move uncontrolled toward his mouth as soon as you feel him slowing down. He tries to keep your back on the bed by pushing your tummy down with his metal arm, but it’s impossible. The coldness on your skin makes you cry even more.

“Fuck, fuck, Bucky, please...”

You can’t believe how close you are again, but his tongue is always great. You don’t remember a single time he didn’t make you come like this.

You gasp when he moves his tongue up to your clit quickly, which you did not expect. Even though you should have... you should have expected him to bring two metal fingers to your mouth and command you to suck them, then to push them inside you at once as he sucks on your clit. And sucks. And sucks. And when he takes it between his teeth, grazing it just enough, you come.

You don’t even realize you are screaming, the pleasure so overwhelming you can’t think even for a second. And he doesn’t stop, he keeps using his tongue and fingers until you have to beg him to.

You’re trembling, absolutely consumed when he moves up to kiss you.

“Fuck, we taste so good, doll.”

You kiss him again, making sure to lick his lips before he opens his mouth. You taste amazing together, indeed.

“Yes.”

“Good. Are you feeling better now?”

“I can’t feel my body,” you say before laughing.

“Are you sore?”

You touch his face. “I feel well fucked, daddy, don’t worry.”

His face is priceless every time you call him that. It’s funny how a big man like him gets red so easily. You never get over this.

“You and that… name.”

You pinch his chin immediately, stroking his hair. “As if you don’t enjoy it.”

“I do. Look what you did to me!” He shakes his head in a disapproving way, and you feel happy. He makes everything lighter... easier for you. He learned when and how to push you, and it helps that you have a similar sense of humor.

“I’m better now, thank you. It’s just so unfair because you are a wonderful director.”

“Just director?”

You giggle, seeing his pouty mouth. “And writer.”

“And?”

“And?” You raise your eyebrow.

“What else?”

“I don’t-” You burst into laughter when you feel his hands tickling you. “Stop! Stop! F-fine! Best... best boyfriend.”

“What? Didn’t hear you.”

You roll your eyes. He’s so predictable sometimes.

“B-best boyfriend in the world. Now stop! You’re so unfair!”

“Alright.” He gives you a boyish grin, which makes him look so young. His smile never changed from what you saw. His childhood pictures, his college ones... he kept it and it makes him so adorable.

“I love you, old man.”

“Not this again.” He fake puffs before kissing you. “I love you, too.”

You wake up with a few notifications and a message from Bucky telling you he’s gone to do some grocery shopping. You were wondering why the house was silent. Even when he wakes up earlier than you and tries to be silent, there is a low sound from the TV or his music player.

What you don’t expect is to have thousands of DMS and following requests as soon as you open your Instagram.

You don’t understand at first, still sleepy and hungry, until you scroll through your feed and see Bucky’s post. You almost drop your phone.

There are two photos. The first is only with you, but you don’t remember when he took it. You’re not looking at the camera, staring at the sunset, so it’s clear he took it without you knowing. He’s had this for months... and he never showed it to you. God, you miss Italy!

When you swipe to the next pic, one with both of you as he’s biting your cheek, you laugh. You were being so silly that day. Your fourth date... He was ready to eat your whole face and he didn’t want to take no for an answer, so you started to bite and suck his chin in return. It was the first time you spent the night at his house. It feels like years ago...

Then your eyes finally drop to the description and you start crying a little.

I already won the best award that exists a few months ago❤️ Thank you for your support!

You notice he turned off the comments, but many common friends liked the post.

Fuck, that means you are officially together everywhere. Wow.

You can’t believe what you woke up to. You two never kept your relationship a secret, but you preferred being discreet. You are aware of how this looks from the outside, both of you do, but does it matter? At the end of the day, the people you care about know the truth, you work hard to get jobs, and that’s enough.

You immediately open your gallery and choose a couple of photos with you and him, then just with him: hugging, Bucky kissing your cheek, him making dance moves, his face up close... some random pics you love.

You choose to use only a red heart as your caption at first, but before you publish, you add a few words because it doesn’t feel enough and even tag him on your boobs.

What a view: @jbuckybarnes #photosdump

Happily, you let the comments on and look for a certain short video you absolutely adore from your vacation: he has his head on your lap, napping soundlessly while you run your hand through his hair. His face might not be visible, but it’s clear it’s him. His shoulders, his moles, and his hair...

You remember how he groaned and whined every time you stopped touching his curls, bringing your hand back to his head.

“Bubba, more...”

Smiling, you tag him in a small font, choosing a color to fit the yacht floor, and post it.

The next fifteen minutes you spend in the bathroom, taking a shower, doing your routine, and changing into some clothes you left here the last time.

“Baby?” You jump when you hear Bucky in the bedroom all of a sudden, but you don’t let the shock hold you back from jumping on him.

He catches you, thankfully, and holds you by the ass as you kiss him all over his face and neck before stopping on his lips. Your tongue finds his and you moan in his mouth shortly after, making him groan, too.

“Good morning!”

“I love you,” you whisper, resting your head on his chest.

“I love you, too. Didn’t want to leave before you woke up, but we needed breakfast.”

“Can’t believe you did that.”

“What?” He asks genuinely confused.

“You know what!” You say, words muffled by the material of his T-shirt. You are surprised how this small normal thing made you so happy you can burst.

“Ah.” He realizes, leaning in a bit to kiss your hair. “I should have done it ages ago.”

You really hate how he tends to take the full blame when it’s not the case. “We then... but now it’s the perfect timing.”

“Yes, the perfect timing.” He carries you around until you are both back in bed.

The breakfast can wait, so can you to see his reaction when he finds your posts.

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