#I have my office door closed bc I can’t stop doing my stupid little smile and thinking about them and I have to go run an hr long student

[booksapphic]

forcing a girl with a hyperfixation to work for 8 hrs should be punishable by death

[gladiatorcunt]

- FEARS TO FATHOM | XIV.

i can thrill you more than any ghoul would ever dare try

cw: kinktober prompt (roleplay), fem reader, early criminal minds, background hotch x reader x spencer (age gap, reader and spencer in their early-mid 20’s), knifeplay, degradation, murder fantasies, necrophilia fantasies, snuff films mention, blood play mentions, part of the roleplay is that hotch is your daddy (open to interpretation on the exact meaning), one mention of sadomasochism, knife (handle) fucking, dead dove do not eat, under negotiated kink but hints of you and spencer being secretly disturbed freaks, spencer referred to as ghostface for most of the fic, one face slap, fantasy fulfillment (bc spencer is a soft dom TO ME), off screen recording

please do not repost, translate, or feed this work to ai

kinktober 2024

“Spence, come on, I’m gonna fall asleep by the time you get ready.” You shout at the closed bathroom door, if only to stave off your own nerves and lingering excitement.

The beginning of October was a snooze fest, you, Spencer, and Aaron had so much work, back to back cases that ran longer than anyone thought. Elle couldn’t stop ranting to you, and you to her, about how fucking aggravating things have been. None of you could even afford to make lazy plans for Halloween, the office already minimally decorated with tiny plastic pumpkins and purple-green-orange streamers here and there.

Until the angels granted you mercy, Aaron bargained some time off for the rest of the team in exchange for him spending hours eye level deep in paperwork.

You and Spencer each gave him a brisk but heartfelt thank you kiss before you headed home, to the house owned by a man who wouldn’t be accompanying his partners tonight.

Spencer calls back to you in between awkward bangs of his knees against the wall, shuffling his work clothes off and getting into the costume. “Just a second, you’d think you’d appreciate the lenghts i’m willing to go for you.”

You definitely do when after some more bumbling about he comes out in the ghostface costume, his gangly body in the long black fabric, holding the mask in his hand. Because of course you can’t do a more normal boss and secretary type situation, no, you have to have your boyfriend dress up like a horror movie serial killer, one of your favorites, and act like he’s gonna do the same to you.

You also wanted to see Spencer let go a little bit, be darker in ways your toes curl thinking about, Aaron was the one that bought the costume anyway. You were too shy to do anything beyond mentioning off handedly that it would be hot, and Spencer wanted you to squirm.

“Aaron waited 45 minutes for the employees at Spirit Halloween to find one in the back because they were sold out. The least we do is put it to good use since we’ll be working on the actual day.”

Your cold feet turn freezing, “This is so stupid and weird, we can just lie when he comes back and say we used it-”

Now here you are, breath caught in your chest as you gaze up at the handsome looming figure, Spencer huffs out a laugh at your shyness and flicks the hood up. He puts the mask on and fastens it around his head, now nothing but his gait and his voice signify the man behind the mask being your boyfriend. You can almost see his amused small smile, the knife he swiped from the kitchen block taps a tune along your jawbone, humming a note on every point of contact.

Your eyes flutter shut, setting the scene and dimming the lights, a cold and black gloved hand shoves you back onto the bed, pushing you right into the deep end.

“Please, I- I’ll do anything, I don’t wanna die, sir.” Your voice actually cracks on the tail end of your sentence, putting your all in your amateur-porn-without-a-camera performance.

“Shh.” Ghostface whispers but it’s jagged with long held back arousal, “You’re not going to die yet if you give me something for my trouble. You let me waltz right in just because Daddy’s not home, and now I'm supposed to pass up a pretty little lying whore like you?”

You whimper, “I’m not a whore, I just- He doesn’t have to know, please, I’ll do whatever you want, I swear.”

“Oh so you admit you were lying to him? How do you think he’s gonna feel when he comes home to see his precious baby’s guts spilled all over the bed she wanted her secret boyfriend to fuck her in. You were so giggly when you told me it was his.” He cocks his head to the side, teeth no doubt gleaming white under the mask. “What’s wrong, sugarplum? Not so proud of being a slut anymore?”

“Spread your legs, I have the perfect game in mind. Your pussy can’t lie like your mouth can, and I have just the thing she wants.”

You tremble, letting tears gather in your eyes so you really look afraid for your life. You sink into the mattress, your upper inner thighs glisten with your juices, already wet and he hasn’t thrust his knife inside of you let alone his cock. Your head says you should just lie there and feel the overhead fan blow gently on your exposed pussy but your clit wants to scream at Ghostface to go in blade first.

“See, look.” He taunts, parting your folds with the chilly tip of his knife, “She’s co cute, glistening and puffy, she’d look so good being fucked on the hilt of my knife, don’t you think?”

It’s not quite what you want but you nod, letting your legs go lax so he can get a proper look at your juicy cunt. He hums in approval, the soft sound raises your hackles and causes the hairs on the back of your neck to stand up.

He slaps the tip of the blade against your clit, and it’s the miracle that you weren’t cut that has you pleading up at him with your eyes. To pretty please at least thrust the hilt in so you can feel like you’re getting stabbed on something, Ghostface tilts his head again, his long body bending to the side, considering giving you what you want.

But wasn’t the point of this whole charade to turn you into a whiny bitch who’d risk her life for a serial killer’s knife, lusting after it possibly more than his actual cock?

“Oh, fine. I guess we’d better be quick if we don’t want your daddy to drop in on us too soon, I'd hate to have to gut him too, baby.” There’s a false hint of concern, you can picture a slight pout under the mask, his fingers tighten around the handle.

You eagerly scramble back on the bed, and Ghostface follows after you. His knees sink into the mattress on either side of your hips, one gloved hand shooting out to steady himself by your head and the other keeping a firm grip on his knife. He makes sure you can always see it, not because you actually need a reminder of the threat your (and your daddy’s by association) life is in, but because it entices you into being good.

Not that he’d mind a brat, but he doesn’t have the time today to break you apart piece by piece. He waves the knife in front of you, dangling a carrot in front of his dumb bunny, and reaches down under his cloak to unbuckle his belt.

“Aw, you perked up as soon as I started fiddling with my belt buckle, huh buttercup? Don’t get too excited, that little heart might burst and we haven’t even been able to watch any scary movies together yet.” Ghostface teases, shuffling back so his pants can fall to the floor.

You weren’t touching yet, but you still whine. His eyes must be crinkling under the mask because he giggles and climbs back up your body to hover above your face. He boops the tip of your nose with his knife, the edge gently scrapes against your chubby cheek and your jawline as he drags it along the contours of your face. Mapping it out so he knows which cuts to make without making you too ugly, as long as your holes can tighten enough to hug something, he doesn’t mind.

“Are you scared? Aw, I hope so, it’s only gonna make you tighter, you might even bleed without me having to give you a single cut.” He laughs when you pout at that, dragging the tip of his blade under your shirt before cutting it off and doing the same to your bra, a lacey thing you may or may not have bought specifically for this occasion. Blood red and now in tatters on your daddy’s bedroom floor, hopefully you can pick it up later before he comes home if you’re still alive.

“Mmh, don’t hurt me, please, I’m doing what you want aren’t I? I’m being good for you, that’s all I want, just wanna be good for you so fuckin’ bad.” You plead, gasping as he cuts away your mini skirt too.

And you do, it’s why you want your boyfriend to let go and carve you up as if all you’re good for is to be a monument to how much you adore him. You love him like this, slipping into the role of a guiltless killer who just might snuff the life out of you no matter how stellar your pussy game is, and you’ll love him afterwards when he needs round 3 (because you want one round with him in your pussy and one in your ass) to be gentle and sweet, his hung skinny boy cock stealing the breath out of you even when his strokes are languid and honey fueled.

“I know you do, I wouldn’t be giving you a chance to live otherwise, you whore. You’re just a sweet girl who got tripped up as soon as it was looking like you were gonna get dick, right? Doesn’t matter what happens after, don’t sweat it, you’re gonna get everything you want.”

You mewl, and your eyes flutter shut as he pushes your clothes off of your body. His knife’s blade shocks you a little when he drags it along your skin, making a path towards your dripping pussy. Your clit throbs in anticipation, Ghostface’s cloak shifts as his shoulders slightly shake from laughter.

“Greedy girl, I'm gonna put it in okay? Feel free to cry and scream all you want, I'd prefer it actually.” Is all the warning you get before he positions the black knife handle in front of your pussy, and starts pushing it in.

You whine at the stretch, and he doesn’t give you any time to adjust beyond that, slamming it in until the blade is just outside your hole. He grunts in pain, wrapping his hand around the sharp edges, his gloves are too thick for his skin to be sliced through, but you notice his cock twitch under his cloak.

You gush around the hilt of the knife, feeling too dizzy to look down at where it disappears into your body. It doesn’t do anything but split you in two, there’s no special spot it hits and the smooth bumpy ridges are too slight to provide any stimulation. It’s the brutality of the act that turns you on, a masked man looming above you as he plunges his knife into you, stabbing you from the inside.

The blade makes itself known every so often, poking your folds, imitations of sharp pecks as Ghostface thrusts the hilt inside your sopping wet pussy. The mess on your daddy’s sheets takes on more fluid, growing into a small puddle, you’re so embarrassed and your heart is beating faster than a hummingbirds as you stare up into the eyes of his mask. Black sinkholes surrounded by bright white, elongated and macabre, you clench around the handle. This could be the last sight you ever see, a ghostly specter getting off on desecrating your body and settling you on fire with your own shame.

You drool at his long fingers, curled so tightly around the blade, he must be in tremendous pain. Your clit jumps, listening for muffled pained groans held behind clenched teeth. It’s not your own suffering that gets you going apparently, this deranged man’s desperation to make you cum from being hurt that he ends up getting off on hurting himself is all you care about. Your daddy would forgive you, you just couldn’t help sniffing after a big soon to be bloody cock, maybe if you’re left alone afterwards he can put you back together. Kiss your wounds and gently guide you through a soft orgasm, a pink frothy ring permanently tied around the base of his cock.

“Is this knife a good enough dildo for you?” Ghostface sneers, he can tell that you’ve started to drift off, getting so caught up in the moment you can’t even be present enough to ride it out. “This pussy’s so tight I can't fit anymore of it in, guess you’ve been a good whore, I’m sorry I can't cut up your insides, carve them up like my special little pumpkin. Round and sweet and so fucking easy to squash into gooey pulp.”

You whimper and rock your hips down, desperate for the blade to somehow slip inside and absolutely mess you up. You want to bleed out around his cock and stare up into the eyes of his mask as you shatter around him, sharing the experience of cumming together while the light leaves your eyes. You don’t even know what he’d do, if he’d pull out right away and leave a sea of blood and other bodily fluids surrounding your corpse, if he’d snap a pic or two before sauntering right out the front door, whistling an old timey love song as he runs through his options for what to watch when he gets home.

Or maybe he’d stay, jostle his softening cock inside of you, softly bouncing your cooling body until it becomes too stiff. If he’d tear up just a little behind the mask and brush the gaping long oval shaped mouth over the lips on your face, your first kiss, only in death. He’d die someday and pull you down to hell so he can tell you his name and do this all over again, kissing the sweat off your philtrum and huffing the sulfur and brimstone from your bush.

“That’s it, clench on my knife handle, I know that’s what you’re after, but you’re still drooling… don’t tell me you want my cock now? We were just getting started…”

“I- I want your cock, so bad please, I wanna cum on it, wanna make you feel so good you’ll come back to finish me off later.” You beg and play with your tits, rolling your nipples in between your fingers so you’ll be even wetter.

You want it to be amazing for him, to be enveloped in so much liquid he’d only have to close his eyes and imagine it was your blood. You hear a groan coming from above you and you smile, “It’ll be so good, you can keep pretending you’ve killed me so we can do this again and again and again and again. I can be your perfect murder victim, a toy that never breaks for good, your cumsock. Please, Mr. Ghostface, we can even make a movie together if you want.”

Amateur porn, snuff, erotic-sleazy-trashy slasher gore porn, cheap horror, you’d do it all.

“God, you really are such a freaking freak. I thought I told you I wouldn't make a decision until I've ruined every one of your holes for anybody else. I guess this can be your audition, you wanna be my little star so bad then you can prove that you can handle what that’s really gonna be like. Gonna rough you up and leave you scraped raw, bully this pussy with my dick and choke you out when it’s time for bed.”

Your clit throbs painfully, and you almost cum on the now uncomfortable chafing material of his knife’s handle when he abruptly yanks it out, leaving your hole hungry and empty. More wetness dribbles out, some of it falling right on the black hilt and into the grooves, staining it in a way, you hope he sniffs it and jerks off while he kills some less lucky girl later.

He drops the knife right by your hip, and you wince as it knicks you. Ghostface braces himself on either side of your head and reaches down to ruck up his cloak, clumsily unbuttoning his pants with one hand and freeing his rock hard cock. You don’t get to marvel at it, to live with the knowledge that you know what the infamous serial killer terrorizing your town’s penis looks like. He doesn’t allow you any prep time now either, you’re not empty for long before he’s impatiently thrusting his bare cock in your puffy pussy.

It makes the most sickening squelch when his balls swing to hit your ass, like an organ you forgot existed just burst.

He gets so excited that he smacks you clean across the face, panting like a rabid dog mounting his prey.

“Fuck, virgins have the best pussies. Does this hurt, my fat fucking dick breaking you down into nothing? You look like you’re gonna cry, baby, it’s okay. You’ll like it soon, or not, this isn’t about what you want anyway, right? This is what you wanted, opening the door for a stranger only to get destroyed by his raw cock in your daddy’s bed.”

You’re still reeling from the slap but you have enough sense to nod, sobbing as his thrusts become harsher, sending you up the bed and spreading the burn of his length forcing itself to fit all throughout your abused body.

The smell of sex is going to take forever to come out, seeping through the walls and into the foundations of the house, an invisible scarlet letter for his future starlet.

Spencer’s phone beeps hours later, once, then twice, then a few more times before it falls silent.

I let you play without me this one time, don’t forget that.

Make sure to bring her room temperature water. Cold water gives her headaches. Two painkillers, not four unless she asks, she gets dizzy otherwise.

Take a shower if you’re feeling up to it, she’ll get fussy if she’s sticky and you’ll get fussy if she’s fussy.

Send me the video, last one on this floor of the bulding by now. Gideon went home an hour ago. I want pictures of you in the costume too.

Love you both, I’ll do my best to be home sometime tomorrow. No cockwarming if she’s too fucked out, just slip a plug in. You know her favorites, don’t get smug if she picks the pink heart shaped one again.

[fivelakesinwriting]

can you do a barry one where you’re rafe and sarah’s sister and you’ve been sneaking barry into your room every night while you’re home from college bc your friends with benefits but when ward goes to give barry the money that rafe owes him he says something like “why don’t you ask your daughter who’s she’s been sneaking into her room every night. so ward comes home pissed to wake you up and ask you about it so you go to barry’s house and confront him and it leads to smut

Author's Notes: I wrote her as the Littlest Cameron from Ward's first marriage - because I kinda love that idea. All characters are 18+

Warnings: OBX Spoilers - Only for Season 1 (I assume we've all been there done that..) Swearing, Mentions of drugs/ drug debt, Guns, Sexual references - Sexual innuendos, Smutty.

Requested? YES! Requests for OBX are OPEN!

*My work is not to be transferred, copied, translated or reposted to any other sites without my permission. Please see my masterlist for all other works and warnings. Thank you! xoxo

For almost six weeks he had been sneaking into her bedroom at night, completely unseen to anyone. Not even the boy who spent the majority of his days on his couch, passed out or begging for a fix.

This time it was his turn to beg.

He crawled through the window - left open like always for him - and tossed his legs through in to her bedroom. He grunted when her body collided with his in the dark, sending him backwards towards the wall.

"We said 11pm. It's 11:17pm." She mumbled as she pressed on her toes to wrap her arms around his neck.

"Sorry. Got wrapped up in some shit. Thought I forgot?" He smirked as he hitched at the waist to wrap his arms around her, reciprocating her affection.

"Yes." She whispered into his shoulder as her fingertips curled into the material of his coveralls.

Barry only lifted her up in response, always amazed that a girl with a brother the size of Rafe Cameron could be so tiny. He carried her over to her bed and laid her on her back, crawling on top of her to take up the space between her thighs. He placed feather-light kisses down her neck, a smile on his face as she pulled at his coveralls.

"Hey, Tiny. I need to borrow some fucking cash. You don't still have that stupid piggy bank or some shit - what the fuck is this?" Rafe came stomping into her bedroom without knocking and flicked the lights on, his hands pushing all the trinkets and books off her dresser as he searched.

"Rafe, what the fuck! Knock first, asshole!" She screamed as she tossed a decorative pillow off her bed and towards her older brother who stood dumbfounded on the other side of her bedroom.

"The fuck is this? Why is he here?" Rafe questioned as he pointed his index finger at the older man on top of his younger sister.

"What's up, Country Club?" Barry smirked as he turned his face to look at Rafe, as if he weren't on top of his little sister.

"T.C, he has to leave. Now. I'm fucking serious." Rafe grumbled with a stern look, a pinch of his nostrils and then exited her bedroom with a slam of the door.

"T.C?" Barry grinned as he propped himself up on his arms above her and looked down at her embarrassed face.

"Tiny Cameron." She sighed as she pressed one hand to his lower back and the other to her forehead.

"That's cute. Shit's real cute. He take money from you a lot?" Barry asked as he leaned his weight on one forearm to run his fingertips over his top lip.

"Not a lot. Sometimes. Mostly takes it from dad, but he asks for money a lot more often now. I'm assuming it's to pay you." She replied softly.

"Some of it. Your brother got a nice new bike out there and he still runnin' up a tab with me, so..." Barry trailed as he placed his hand back down beside her on the bed.

"Don't get me started on that stupid dirt bike." She sighed as she rolled her head back on the sheets.

"Listen, I'm gonna go. I can hear him pacing outside that fucking door. But don't let him take your money, T.C." Barry winked before he gave her a quick kiss on her lips and pulled himself off the bed, heading back towards the window.

"Fuck you, Barry." She whined with a pout, sitting up on the bed to watch him leave.

"Next time." He grinned, flashing her his gold tooth.

*

It had been close to one week since the night Rafe had caught Barry in his little sister's room, and since then his debt had grown exponentially. Rafe felt overwhelmed and reckless as he entered the combination to his father's wall safe. Perhaps that's why he got caught.

"Dad, I swear I learned my lesson. Okay? Let's not do this. Please." Rafe begged from the front seat of his father's S.U.V as they idled out front of Barry's house.

"Stay in the car." Ward ordered as he unbuckled his seat belt and opened his door.

Ward Cameron walked up the dirt path, lit by the lights of his vehicle and pulled his wallet from his back pocket. He saw the young man sitting at the fire pit, a bottle of liquor in his hand.

"Are you Barry?" He called as he opened his wallet and began to count the bills.

"Might be. You lost?" Barry asked as he took a swig of the whiskey in his hand and looked over the clean cut older man standing a few feet in front of him.

"No. My son Rafe owes you money. I'm here to pay his tab." Ward replied with a shake of his head as he pulled out the wad of cash, and folded it in half.

"Big Daddy Cameron, huh?" Barry smirked as he stood up from his chair and took a few steps towards Ward.

"That should cover it. Don't sell my son drugs anymore." Ward growled as he tossed the cash on the ground at Barry's feet and turned to walk away.

"Got no problem not selling drugs to your delinquent son. But it's your daughter who might have a problem staying away from me." Barry replied his stance strong as he watched Ward Cameron stop dead in his tracks, his back rigid.

"Sarah?" Ward asked as he turned around, his eyes wide as he looked the dealer up then down.

"You forget you have more than one daughter, don't you? Talking about the little one. Think Rafe calls her...T.C?" Barry replied as he pushed his hands into his pockets.

Ward Cameron ran a shaky hand over his beard as he continued to stare at Barry. He turned to leave, but changed his mind and stalked back over to him, and stood directly in front of the shorter man.

"Stay away from my family. My son and especially my daughter." Ward growled a finger pressed into Barry's chest before he turned on his heel and stomped back towards the S.U.V.

"Big Daddy Cameron." Barry scoffed with a shake of his head as he crouched down to pick up the bills on the ground. He knew he had just lit a match under the Cameron patriarch, but he was fine with it.

Back at Tannyhill Rafe walked quickly into the house and up the stairs, his head hung low as he blinked back tears. He walked passed each of his sisters' rooms towards his own, stopping at the one of the left.

"T.C, better gear up. Dad knows about Barry. He's coming upstairs. Fire is lit." Rafe grumbled with a sniff and then made his way towards his bedroom with a slam of his door.

"What do you mean dad knows about - Hi, daddy." She mumbled as she scrambled off the bed after her brother, only to be met in the doorway by a livid Ward Cameron.

"How long?" Ward asked as he tried to keep his voice even, despite the way his body shook with pure anger. He had one daughter running around on The Cut, a son stealing from him to pay for his drug habit, and now his other daughter - his baby - was sleeping with that drug dealer.

What had he done wrong?

"Since I got home from school. Rafe introduced us at a party." She replied softly, avoiding her father's gaze.

"Are you snorting that shit like Rafe is?" Ward asked, his voice just a whisper and terrified.

"No, dad. I'm not. I swear. It's not like that with Barry. He likes me. He likes me a lot, and we're just hanging out together." She replied quickly as she reached for her father, her hands on his wrists that hung at his sides.

"But you're sleeping with him." Ward scoffed with a glare down at her. So tiny. Just like her mother. Everything about her reminded him of his first wife.

"I...I mean, yes. We're sleeping together. I go and visit him, and he comes over here sometimes." She nodded with a squeeze of his wrists.

"T.C, he comes here? To my house?" Ward glared down at his daughter.

"Dad, I -"

"I can't look at you right now." Ward grumbled as he pulled his wrists from her grip, rubbed his face and walked out of her bedroom, down the hall to his office.

"Shit." She whispered, pushing her hands through her hair. She walked back into her room, over to her desk and grabbed her bag. She walked over to her window, slid it open as quietly as she could and climbed out.

The knock at Barry's door was a surprise. He was expecting no visitors. He slowly raised his body up from the tattered couch, grabbed his gun from the waistband of his pants and walked cautiously to the front door.

"What you want?" He yelled, gun raised.

"It's me, you ass." Her sad voice sobbed back with a slam of her fist against the door once again.

"Fuck." Barry sighed as he reached for the several locking mechanisms on his door and let her in.

"What the fuck did you say to my dad!" She cried with a push of his strong chest.

Barry stood in the doorway and took each hit to the chest. He knew he may have overstepped a boundary or two that night, telling Ward Cameron he was sleeping with his daughter. But, he didn't like to have people come up to his home uninvited, telling him what to do and who to see. So he bit back.

"Stop. Listen to me. He came over here with your brother in the car, tossed money at me and told me to stop selling to Rafe." Barry muttered as he grabbed her wrists then held them against his chest to keep her close.

"And what did you say?" She struggled in his arms and looked up at him with those eyes that were all Cameron. He wished he didn't like them so much.

"I told him that was fine, but he might have an issue keeping his little girl out of my bed." Barry replied with a slight smirk, his gold tooth taking hold of his bottom lip.

"That isn't funny, Barry." She pouted up at him as she struggled to pull her wrists from his grip.

"It's a little funny."

"My dad is livid, Barry! Rafe is holed up in bedroom doing and thinking who knows what. And I - " She pulled her wrists from his grasp and stepped into his small home, beginning to pace.

"They ain't an issue for you anymore. Rafe's tab is paid, and now Big Daddy Cameron knows about us. So, I don't know what's got your panties in such a twist. But you should take them off if they're bothering you so much." Barry muttered as he ran his fingertips over his top lip, and leaned against the door frame as he watched her.

"No. I'm mad at you." She whispered as she crossed her arms over her chest, looking at him with a furrowed brow.

"Nipples say otherwise." Barry muttered with a point to her chest, pushed up under her forearms.

"Don't!" She whined as she covered her breasts from his view.

She was mad at him. It was the first time in the few weeks they had been dating she had felt angry with him. She scowled as she looked him up then down as he stayed leaned up against the door frame. The both of them challenging the other to make the first move.

"Well, are you staying the night or did you just come to yell at me and flash your nipples in my fucking face?" Barry grunted as he pushed himself off the door frame and slowly made his way towards the back of the house, slipping his gun back in the waistband of his pants.

"They aren't in your face." She mumbled but followed him towards his bedroom with a shuffle of her feet.

Barry sat on the edge of the bed, pulling the gun from the waistband of his pants and placing it delicately on his nightstand. He spread his knees and beckoned her over with a wave of his hand.

"I'm mad at you." She stated with her arms crossed over her chest still, looking him over. She did as instructed, though, walking over to his slowly and stood between his knees.

"Well. I don't wanna be mad at you." Barry replied as he placed his hands on her hips to pull her against his chest.

"You shouldn't have said those things to my dad, Barry." She whispered as she uncrossed her arms and placed her palms on his shoulders.

"I was right, wasn't I? You busted out the house and now you're here with me, ain't you?" Barry grinned up at her as his fingertips pushed up the hem of her shirt to touch her skin, still warm from her bike ride over.

"Well, yeah. But that doesn't mean you have to say it to my dad. Asshole." She pouted as she slapped his chest playfully before she wrapped her arms around his neck.

"I could have said way worse shit to him than that. Like how you liked to be tied up." Barry chuckled as he placed his hands on her backside and raised his eyebrows at her. He grabbed at her elbows, lifting her arms from around his neck and held her arms behind her back.

"Barry." She whined as she dropped her forehead to his.

"Guess I'll save that one for next time." Barry muttered as he kept his grip on her arms behind her back strong, but leaned in to press his lips to hers.

"Be nice to me." She pouted against his lips as she struggled weakly in his grip.

"No. You gotta make up for your dad coming in and fucking up my night." Barry smirked as he held her wrists behind her back with one hand as the other reached to the front of her shirt, pushing it beneath her breasts.

"I knew you had a daddy kink, Barry. But if you wanna fuck my dad that's a deal breaker for me." She grinned as she squirmed in his grip.

"Get on your hands and knees. Tiny Cameron." Barry growled as he let her wrists go and slapped her backside firmly.

"Ow! Fuck you." She whined as she crawled over his lap and onto the bed.

"About time." Barry mumbled as he stood up, turning the face the bed to see her back arched the way liked. He ran his thumb over his top lip and smiled softly to himself.

He wasn't going to stop selling to Rafe Cameron, that was something Rafe had to decide for himself. And he certainly wasn't going to stop seeing or sleeping with the girl currently in his bed, wiggling her ass at him for his attention.

Ward Cameron would have to kill him first.

Hottie List: @starkey-babie @sodasback @fashion-fasting @barrysjumpsuit @beauvibaby @professional-busboy @soph0864 @vinniehcker

*tag list still open if you'd like to be added - just let me know! Please let me know what you think if you have a moment! Thank you so much! xoxo

Requests for OBX ARE OPEN!

[girl-of-many-fandoms]

I just found your stories today and I love your writing. Also I found a new need...I didn’t know I needed Deacon x reader fics (S.W.A.T.).

May I pls be tagged on all of your writing???

I also saw your requests were open and if possible could you write Deacon x Reader fic where they’ve been together a while. During their time together he has repeatedly stated he doesn’t want more kids and the reader accidentally gets pregnant (BC failure). She’s afraid to tell him, but when she does He initially reacts badly, but they get their HEA.

Thank You 🙏

Another One

Pairing: Deacon Kay x Reader

Warnings: none

MASTERLIST

——-

“Please don’t be positive” you chewed on your bottom lip as you stared at the pregnancy test in your hands. For the past three weeks you’ve been throwing up and you realized that you can’t stand certain scents

A loud crash sounded from the living room and your husband calling out to your younger set of twin boys to stop running in the house filled the once quiet home

“Mommy! Sadie ate my strawberries!” Laila, the oldest of your four kids called out to you on the other side of the door as Sadie, your one year old cries became louder

You loved all four of your children but they really get on your nerves sometimes, hence the reason why you’re all but praying for this test to be negative. You knew that Deacon wasn’t up for another child especially so soon after Sadie but this is what happens when mommy and daddy get their play time, another one gets conceived

Rubbing your temples you released a sigh before cracking the door open only to be met with a scowling five year old and a screaming baby

“Laila I’ll get you more strawberries” before you could scoop up the little one in your arms your husband beat you to it, immediately shushing her cries

“What’s the matter angel?” the eldest sassily rolled her eyes before storming out of your bedroom leaving you two to handle Sadie

“She gets that from her mother” Deacon joked and entered the bathroom with Sadie on his hip. You didn’t bother to try hiding the test from his line of vision

Pregnant

That one word mocked you the longer you looked at it

“Looks like we’re having another one” you held the test up for him to see and his soft features turned stone cold

“What the f-“

“Language”

Clearly upset he sat your daughter on the bathroom sink, eyes burning holes into the side of your head

“We said no more” rolling your eyes you placed the test on the counter before reaching out for the carefree child

“Are you even taking your birth control?” raising his voice a bit you couldn’t help but glare at him like he’s lost his fucking mind

“Deacon you know better than to ask me that stupid question”

“We can’t even manage the four kids we already have much less five, God forbid it’s twins again!” fuming he stormed out of the room while you stayed put bouncing Sadie on your hip, her little babbles bringing a small smile to your face

At least one of us is happy

It wasn’t long after you heard the front door slam shut. Great, he’s taking off. The padding of tiny feet got closer with each passing second as the twins made their appearance

“Mommy, daddy looked mad when he left, is he okay?” Aiden asked while his brother Ethan wrapped his arms around your leg. Ruffling his mass of chestnut brown hair you smiled down at your babies

“Everything’s fine, who wants to watch a movie?”

———

It was well past eight o’clock, you had just put the twins down and was on your way down to the kitchen when the front door opened and Deacon walked in holding a bouquet of flowers

“Babe” he called out to you but you walked right past him, still upset with the way he behaved earlier

“I’m sorry” he followed you into the kitchen but you still ignored him as you started cleaning up the mess the five of you made during dinner

“Whatever Deacon, you said your part” he took the dirty plates out of your hands and placed them to the side stopping you in your tracks

“Y/N” using his thumb and index finger he tilted your head up, brown eyes locking with yours

“Four kids is a lot, especially with our line of work” he’s seriously choosing to go down this road squirming away from him you felt your blood boil

“Deacon don’t do that, don’t try to tell me how hard it is because we’re both S.W.A.T. officers, we both work on the same team, we both know the dangers of the job and we both knew what we were getting ourselves into when we decided to get married and start a family” your body shook with pent up rage as you closed the gap between you both

“We both said that we didn’t want to have another one after the boys and what happens, Sadie came along almost three years later. You can’t control when things like this happens Deacon” sighing he propped up against the counter

“I know and I’m sorry for reacting the way way I did, you didn’t deserve that and neither the baby” pulling you closer into him he placed his hands on your hips. Looking into his dark brown eyes you gently rubbed your stomach, small smile etching its way onto your faces

“We’re having another baby” placing his larger hand over yours he lovingly kissed your forehead finally coming to terms with your pregnancy

“It better not be triplets this time” chuckling you allowed yourself to enjoy Deacon’s warm embrace

Standing there in each other’s arms you both knew that this baby would be loved, unexpected or not and taken very great care of. You knew that you both would have to make some compromises along the way to raise five kids but you were ready to do so

“Hondo is gonna flip when he finds out I’m pregnant AGAIN”

[asteroshearts]

[Actor!AU] Relationship HCs

[Levi + Eren] 

Levi Ackerman: 

Even though he still has his RBF off-screen he’s a hell of a lot nicer than people think he is. 

Probably asked Eren if he was okay several times before and after the trial scene. 

They used one of your tweets that read, “I want Levi to break my back like a glowstick” during those “____ reads thirst tweets” videos and his face immediately became full-on red when he saw your @. 

I mean, he was blushing before, but when he saw that it was you he jokingly says, “I had no idea they posted this... Why are you like this. If you wanted me to break your back you could’ve just asked me to my face.” 

Great with puppies, kittens, children, and other infantile creatures. If he’s carrying a bouquet during an event or something and a kid comes up to him, he’ll give them a flower. 

“Levi Plays With Puppies While Answering Fan Questions” probably got over a million views in less than half an hour. 

NO ONE DOES BUSINESS CASUAL BETTER THAN HE DOES!! 

People probably take more pictures of you two at the front row seats of fashion shows more than the models themselves. 

Probably has the Rihanna Effect™ where he’ll wear something that looks bad on the OG model on the runway, but once he wears it, it’s suddenly fashionable. 

Speaking of Rihanna he’s probably in a random music video of hers like Mads Mikkelsen in “Bitch Better Have My Money.” 

HE’S STILL AN ACTS OF SERVICE MAN THROUGH AND THROUGH. 

On one hand he does expected “gentleman” things like opening doors for you, closing your car door after you, holding your bags, etc. 

On the other hand he goes to the extreme. 

If he’s not filming something or busy, he’s by your side doing all of the jobs your assistant is supposed to do. 

The directors and cameramen are looking around being like, “Where’s our Important Character Levi” when they need to shoot scenes, but if they find you they’ll just see him following you around, holding an umbrella over your head in one hand and holding your coffee in the other. 

When they first saw it everyone was like...couldn’t you find someone else...that’s not an extremely important cast member to do that... but it’s just Levi, he insists on doing it himself. Your assistant has the easiest job in the world because he elevates all of their jobs for them. 

CAREFULLY HOLDS THE TRAIN OF YOUR DRESS ON RED CARPETS 

When your hair gets tousled or locks fall over your face during filming or photoshoots, the cameramen will point it out, but before any of the hair or makeup people manage to get to you, Levi will just ;; walk over and fix it himself. The two of you probably have the softest smiles at that moment when he’s carefully brushing your hair out of your face. 

Isn’t in a lot of roles. He definitely gets offered a whole bunch of roles!! but especially when you two started dating, he told himself that he didn’t want you guys to crash and burn like many other celebrity couples since they normally spend a lot of time apart and are usually thousands of miles away from each other. When he’s not filming AOT, he tends to take a break from acting and go with you to your jobs. 

However, if he does find himself in a role that he wants to do, he’ll definitely appreciate it if you reciprocate, but doesn’t expect nor force you to. 

Instead he’ll leave your assistant with a long-ass list of how you like your coffee, what you like to eat after a long day of filming, how to approach you when you’re stressed, etc because this man has been doing your assistant’s job the entire time asdfghj 

The only time he’s gently smiling in paparazzi photos is when he’s with you, other than that he looks angry or bored. Like he’ll be at a beautiful beach party with Erwin and Hange but he’s just sitting in the shade with a drink in one hand looking inconvenienced. 

Eren Jaeger: 

OKAY 

There’s this one video of Dylan Sprouse putting his hand on his heart like it’s the national anthem or something when Barbra Palvin walks by on the runway AND THAT’S EXACTLY EREN 

When he sees you walk by either on a modeling gig or on the red carpet this man just stops ,,, and immediately stares and puts his hand on his heart like he’s seen Jesus. 

ALSO does anyone know that one video of the dude tripping over his words when he tries to talk to Jhene Aiko during an interview. 

When you and Eren first met he had to bring Armin as a translator because he was never able to get a straight sentence out in your presence. 

He was legitimately stunned stupid when he saw all of your red carpet looks or interview looks when you two were still new friends during S1 or something. 

follows Ere[Name] ship accounts on twitter and your stan accounts. 

Why do you even have a publicist. He’s your personal hypeman. Sometimes people get confused when they go to his official instagram bc it’s just pictures of you, him promoting your stuff, or really grainy, desaturated pictures of you two doing dumb things together like doing the JOJO Torture Dance together on an empty street at 3AM. These are interspersed with pictures of him when he has to promote something that’s like in his contract. 

When he posts pictures or stories that doesn’t have you in it, the comments are all, “Where’s [Name].” 

When little kids come up to him during panels or out on the street he’ll get jokingly concerned that they’re watching AOT. Like, “Y-You watch the series?? Do your parents know? Is it too scary for you?” 

Tries to make you laugh by pulling funny faces where the camera can’t see him. 

If you mess up on your line, he’ll immediately build on that and goof off with you, resulting in the two of you getting yelled at. 

Quality time is one of his love languages, so like Levi, your managers will work together to make sure your schedules work with each other. 

Sometimes when you have other roles outside of AOT, you might catch him as some regular extra in the background. 

It can’t be helped if sessions go on for too long sometimes, but if it becomes a reoccurring thing due to unorganized sets, he’ll fight with the director and crew to get a break since it’s important for everyone to get some rest. 

If your character is shipped with some character That’s Not Him, the directors know not to show his face during kiss scenes or romantic scenes because he’ll legitimately break character and pout or become so stone faced that he can’t emote at all. 

This Academy Award winning actor will just go 🧍 on the sidelines while you’re trying to kiss Jean for a scene but his stare is burning on the side of your head. 

Eren to Jimmy Fallon or something, “I guess Jean and [Name] are cute but it would be better if it was Ere[Name]. No, no I’m not complaining or anything...” 

GAVE HIS EVERYTHING TO ATTACK ON TITAN JUNIOR HIGH. 

Begged the writers to have more Ere[Name] content in Junior High.

If they let him direct an episode of AOT he will film it like Parks and Rec or The Office.  

[Eren: commits war crimes 

Camera: swerves and zooms in on your face grimacing and Levi’s dead expression while he stares right at the camera.] 

People probably know that they can’t interview him/force him to do lives after shooting because his voice is gone after all that shouting as Eren Jaeger. 

Has a Dan-Emma-Rupert relationship with Mikasa and Armin. He legitimately sees them as siblings even off-set. 

[nugnthopkns]

i wish i could disappear

word count: 3.6k

warnings: explicit!fem reader, cursing, feelings of anxiety due to social media harassment, invasion of privacy that border on stalking

recommended listening: brutal | olivia rodrigo

series masterpost: here

a/n: and we're off to the races!! i love this album and olivia so much. there's a shoutout to goon by tobias jesso jr. in here bc it's my favourite album to cry to lmao (highly recommend giving it a listen!). i'm on the fence about this one but am posting it anyways because i don't think i can make it any better

How the fuck do people find your social media?

All of your accounts are private and Kevin makes sure to never tag you on the rare occasion he posts a picture of the two of you together. The wives and girlfriends who have public accounts make sure to never post about you, and you’re careful not to comment on posts often. You’re a private person and though you understand that due to the nature of your relationship with Kevin you intrigue some fans, you don’t want to give them more than you have to.

Despite making no attempt to open up to the public or media, every day you wake up with hundreds of follow requests from complete strangers. At first it was a little exciting knowing that people were curious about your life but after years of the same routine it’s become draining. It takes you nearly twenty minutes each day to weed through them and accept only the people you know personally. Kevin doesn’t actually know how many people want to catch a glimpse of your daily life because you do your best to keep it from him. Knowing would only bring him stress, and you want him to be able to focus on winning games and loving you with his entire heart.

☼☼☼☼

The phone on your desk rings loudly, pulling your attention away from the computer screen that has way too many numbers on it for your liking. The finance department needed someone to proof their audit before sending it away and since you’re the only one in human relations that has a business degree the job landed on your shoulders. Eager to take a break, you pick it up and press the receiver against your ear.

“Hello?”

The voice on the other side laughs gently, but you immediately know it’s Kevin. “Hi sweetheart,” he says warmly, “How’s work?”

“Fine I guess. It’s work, Kev. Nothing terribly exciting happens here,” you explain but continue to fill him in on all the coffee pot gossip you got this morning. Kevin listens as you complain about forgetting your lunch on the counter and chuckles at how upset the situation makes you.

“What if I told you I’m outside your window with a burrito bowl?”

Excited at the possibility of seeing your boyfriend before dinnertime, you whip towards the window and spot Kevin on the sidewalk, waving like an idiot despite knowing your office is on the fifth floor. You hang up quickly after telling him you’ll be down in two minutes and let the receptionist know you’re stepping out for lunch. There’s a line for the elevator so you head to the stairwell, taking them two at a time in your haste. You’re crossing the street to the small park where Kevin has set up a picnic before your co-workers are even out the door.

You plop down on the blanket beside Kevin and lean into him. He presses a sweet kiss to your forehead before passing you the food he brought. You take a bite, sighing at the taste. Kevin knows you better than you know yourself and knew exactly what to get that would satisfy your mounting hunger.

“Thanks babe,” you smile, holding up your fork and offering him a bite. He takes it graciously but makes a face. “What’s the matter?” you laugh as you take the utensil back.

“I fucking hate avocado.”

The two of you eat in relative silence, speaking only when you remember a detail from your morning. Kevin tells you about the drills he’s going to lead at practice in the afternoon and what he plans on cooking for dinner since he’ll be home before you. You insist you can whip something up when you get home but Kevin shakes his head. He reminds you that relationships are give and take, and that you’ve made dinner the past three nights because he had a string of games. You manage to reach a compromise that has you doing the dishes before you have to return to work.

Kevin insists on walking you back to your office even though you protest vehemently. Your relationship is far from secret, and has been the topic of workplace gossip more times than you can count, but after five years you’ve learned to ignore most of it. However, you don’t want your co-workers to think you flaunt your NHL player boyfriend to prove you’re better than them. They all love Kevin, and a couple of them congratulate him on last night’s goal as he follows you down the hall. A few of the newer hires stare in awe and shake his hand, completely blown away that one of Philadelphia’s biggest stars is asking how they like their jobs.

“Pretty soon they’re going to approach you to do PR for us,” you chuckle as you flip the light on and close the door of your office.

His laughter echoes off the walls as a pair of strong arms find a home around your waist. “It would be kind of fun to hear myself crush those radio commercials.”

“Since when do you listen to the radio?”

“Checkmate,” Kevin sighs, pulling you closer. He kisses you quickly, not wanting to give a show to anyone who could be walking past, but it still sends you reeling. You don’t want him to pull away and kiss him again.

You get your way for a few more moments and then Kevin’s leaving with a promise to not burn the house down and wishes for a good rest of the day. Focussed on giving the audit its final once-over you don’t bother pulling your phone from the drawer you had placed it in when you got to work that morning. You turn up the small radio at the corner of your desk and get to work scanning the document for errors. There’s a mistake halfway through that skews the rest of the data and fixing it takes a bit of time, but it isn’t a huge deal. You have nothing else to do except answer a few emails and organize meetings for after the weekend.

An hour or so later you’ve completed all your tasks and debate what to do. It’s too early to leave for the day, so you decide to kill time by checking your phone. You’re expecting a few notifications, perhaps two or three memes in the group chat you share with your friends, but not the hundreds that greet you.

The majority of them are instagram notifications, and assuming they’re just more fans requesting a follow you ignore them, instead heading to your text messages. There’s a picture from Kevin of a dog he found walking home and another from your mom asking why you haven’t called home in a few weeks. However the one from Claude’s wife is the one that piques your curiosity.

Just a heads up that someone posted a pic of you and Kev to one of those stupid wag pages. I filed a request for Instagram to take it down but it’s gotten a lot of traction. Sorry :((

Your heartbeat increases rapidly and a million thoughts fly through your head at a rapid speed. Fingers shaking, you respond with a thanks and open up the dreaded app. You don’t see it immediately, your feed being full of photos belonging to friends and family, but it’s in your messages almost two hundred times. Many of them have text attached and you know there will be a comment about your relationship regardless of which one you open.

Tapping on the most recent message you brace yourself for the worst. The new window opens a photo someone took of you and Kevin while eating lunch in the park across from your office not even three hours prior. It’s grainy and the camera angle is strange, but you’re eating and Kevin is looking somewhere out of frame. The accompanying caption reads Kev and his girlfriend out for lunch today! Follow @philllywagupdates for more :).

You let out a sigh of relief – it could have been a lot worse. Personal pictures of yourself have made it onto pages like that before and most of them they’re paired with mean-spirited captions about your appearance or other trivial matters. Assuming you’re in the clear, you head back to the page of the original message to thank the person for bringing the post to your attention. However, the message accompanying the post is anything but positive.

He can’t even fucking look at you. It’s only a matter of time before he leaves you

The blood in your veins runs cold. You know it’s not true – Kevin’s made it clear you’re the one and truthfully you’re just waiting for a ring – but it doesn’t stop the sting you feel. What could possess someone to say such horrible things? You decide not to respond despite, possibly opening another can of worms with the seen function, and close the app. Leaning back in your office chair you focus on anything but your phone, looking out the window at passersby while regaining your breath. It works for a while, but eventually not knowing what others said eats away at you. You go through every single message to see hundreds of similar comments to the first, with only a few saying they’re glad you’re happy or how posting the picture is a violation of your privacy.

By the time you’re finished your spirit has been crushed. However, it’s also an acceptable time to start the weekend – at least no one in the office will have to see you cry. Things are hastily packed into your bag and you wave a few quick goodbyes before once again taking the stairs. You curse yourself for deciding to walk to work that morning and set off in the direction of home wiping away tears. The last thing you need right now is for someone to recognize you, but you have to get home. Tobias Jesso Jr plays at much too loud a volume through your headphones and Kevin will most certainly remind you it’s bad for your hearing, but the melancholy piano riffs of Goon overpower the thoughts swirling around your head.

Do people really feel that way about me?

Are my friends just too nice to stop inviting me places?

Does Kevin really feel trapped?

Hundreds of similar sentiments and situations cross your mind as you stumble through the streets of downtown Philadelphia, but you force them as far back as possible before opening the door to the apartment you share with Kevin. Hoping to slip inside undetected, you take your shoes off slowly and throw your jacket on the end table instead of hanging it in the closet. Your plan fails somehow and Kevin hears you, greeting you in a goofy apron covered in flour.

“Hey sweetheart,” he smiles, but it drops once your eyes meet and he sees the hurt on your face. “What’s the matter?”

“It’s nothing,” you insist, trying to step around him in pursuit of the bathroom.

Kevin doesn’t buy it and sees right through your feeble words. “It’s not nothing if you’re this upset. If you don’t want to talk now that’s fine, but I think you should get it off your chest.”

You know he’s right, but you also know you can’t tell him the true cause of your despair. “Just some work stuff,” you sigh. “The audit got all fucked up and I had to fix it even though it’s not my job.”

It’s not technically a lie, which makes you feel better, and Kevin buys it. He presses a sweet kiss to your lips in sympathy. “Go take a shower and the gnocchi should be ready by the time you’re done. We can spend the night cuddling on the couch.”

“And watching Selling Sunset?”

“We can watch whatever you want sweetheart,” he chuckles. You part from him with a final kiss and head to the bathroom. Hopefully the steam from the water will carry away the negativity brought on by that damn post.

☼☼☼☼

Time passes but the hateful comments on social media don’t stop. In fact, you’re pretty sure they get worse. It’s so bad that you’ve deleted every app except facebook because you need it for work. Kevin doesn’t notice your abstinence from social media, but he picks up on how you spend more time criticizing yourself or staring off into space. When he pushes you either brush him off or feed some bullshit excuse about how work is getting you down. You know he doesn’t believe you but trusts you enough to come to him when you’re ready to talk.

You aren’t sure if you’ll ever be able to tell Kevin what’s been going on. There’s been scrutiny from social media before, when you first started dating, but it quieted down after the initial media frenzy. He helped you through that but it’s different this time around. Never before have you had strangers tell you your life is worthless or that your boyfriend should end your relationship. Some of the other wags notice your absence on instagram but chalk it up to you just taking a break. They reach out via the group chat and send wishes to see you at the next home game. It’s nice to know they care, but the voice in your head that has grown much larger in recent weeks tells you they don’t truly mean it. This leads you to decline the invite as politely as possible, citing extended work hours for your absence. In reality you’re too anxious to be anywhere that isn’t home or work, petrified someone is going to post something that will add fuel to the flames of those who interrogate you.

It’s another Friday afternoon, and you’re leaving the office early once again. There’s a small craft exhibition taking place around the corner from work and today is the last day it’s open. You had been meaning to go all week, hoping to find something small to add to Kevin’s birthday gift. As you step out of the building there’s a small group of young women, who don’t look old enough to have graduated college, standing off to the side. It fills you with dread, worried that somehow someone found out where you work and the insults are going to start occurring verbally, but you force yourself to be rational. You work fairly close to one of the artsier districts in the city and it’s more than likely they just want to find a cute mural to take pictures in front of.

You pass by and swear you hear them snicker, but you remind yourself you’ve just been jumpy lately. When they peel from their place on the wall and follow behind at a distance you think the coincidences are running out. It seems a little too strange how their movements line up with yours, and you go down a few winding side streets in an attempt to lose them. Part of you feels ridiculous because what group of barely legal girls would track a full-blown adult around a city of nearly two million people, but your life is currently strange enough you can’t be sure. They don’t follow you, and by the time you reach the market your heart rate has returned to normal.

The first few stalls have little to catch your eye, but a few rows in you find a leatherworker who makes adorable wallets. Kevin’s is ridiculously old and falling apart at the seams – his mom bought it for him before the two of you got together. You think a new one will make a perfect addition to the concert tickets you already bought and browse the table for something simple and elegant. A deep brown one with tan braiding around the edges catches your eye and you know it’s the one for Kevin. Checking the price to make sure you have enough cash in your wallet, you approach the shop owner to purchase. The older man has a kind smile that reaches his eyes as he thanks you for purchasing from him.

“No, thank you for making something so beautiful!” you gush. “My boyfriend is going to love it.”

It’s then you hear it – snickering accompanied by the click of a camera. You look over your shoulder to see the same group of girls from before laughing as they huddle over a cell phone, no doubt already starting to broadcast the photo across the internet. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes but you refuse to let them fall. Those girls don’t deserve to see their mission accomplished, but the longer they laugh at you the harder it is to swallow your feelings.

Head held high, you thank the owner one more time before holding your head high and walking past the group. The only way out is past them so you hold your breath and pray they don’t notice you. Unfortunately you aren’t that lucky, and one of them looks up just as you come into earshot.

“If Kevin doesn’t leave you after that sorry excuse for a gift I don’t know what’s wrong with him,” she sneers.

Another one chimes in, “You’re honestly so pathetic.” They all cackle in amusement, and you speed up. The tears flow freely now, and you call an uber even though it will be a ridiculous amount of money. You just want to get home.

The uber driver doesn’t say anything when you get in, though you know it’s strange to be bawling your eyes out at four in the afternoon. You can’t help it – weeks of keeping all the hate to yourself finally got to you and being followed with the sole intent of ridicule is the final straw. At one red light he silently passes you a box of tissues, which you accept gratefully.

Luckily the lobby of your apartment complex is empty and you manage to get to your floor without encountering a familiar face. There’s a few hours until Kevin gets home from his final roadtrip of the season, and if you play your cards right you can get all the tears out and be as normal as possible before he comes through the door. You don’t even bother to put anything away, just head straight to the bathroom to slump against the tub. Sobs rack your body and you lose all sense of time. All you can feel is the hurt you’ve been holding in releasing itself and soaking the material of your blouse.

Kevin finds you laying in the position hours later. He tripped over your shoes coming in the door and immediately knew something was wrong – you always place them neatly on the rack in the closet upon arriving home. Peering through the quiet house for a hint at where you are, he sees the bathroom light on and makes a beeline for the room. It breaks his heart to see you like this, and even more so because he doesn’t know what spurred it on.

“Sweetheart, hey,” he coos, maneuvering his body to sit beside you and pull you into his lap. “What’s the matter?”

You bury your head in his shoulder and clutch the material of his dress shirt as you cry harder at the sound of his voice. Kevin takes your reaction in stride, rubbing circles on your back and working on evening out your breath. He doesn’t pressure you to speak and provides the stability you desperately crave as the world around you spins. An unknown amount of time passes before your tears run out, but spend it all on the bathroom floor curled into Kevin.

“I guess I should have told you sooner,” you mumble, “But I didn’t want to bother you.”

Concern laces Kevin’s features and his eyebrows knit together. “Tell me what?”

“I, uh, have been the subject of some internet hate for the past little bit,” you say sheepishly. It feels stupid to not have told him now, but you can’t change that. “But you were really busy with the season and I wanted to make sure your head was completely focused on the game so I just dealt with it myself. I deleted the apps and tried my best to go about my life. And then today after work I was followed by some people and they said some really hurtful stuff and shit became a little too real.”

“I’m so fucking sorry.”

It’s your turn to be confused. “Why are you sorry Kev? You're Not the one sending me death threats.”

He tucks a loose strand of hair back into your ponytail. “Maybe not, but I still made you feel like you couldn’t talk to me about what was going on. What kind of partner am I?”

“The best one,” you say confidently. “It’s okay, I’m okay. I just want to forget about it right now. Can we just disappear for a little bit?”

Kevin wraps his arms around you tighter, as if he can engulf you to protect from the cruel outside world. “We can do whatever you want. If you want to get out of the city for a bit if you want, or just spend the next few days here away from prying eyes.”

“I love you.”

You say it because you mean it, and if you could scream it from the rooftops you would. Kevin is incredibly easy to love, even when you make it difficult for him to love you back. You know another much longer conversation is coming about everything that has happened recently because communication is the only way to solve problems and Kevin deserves that, but you’re thankful he’s willing to put it to rest for a few more moments.

He cracks a smile for the first time since he’s been home and kisses the crown of your head. “I love you too sweetheart,” he whispers, “Always and forever.”

Things are far from over and though you still never want to show your face in public ever again, you know that Kevin is going to do whatever he can to make things better and that’s enough for you.

☼☼☼☼

taglist: @ricohenrique @tortito @boqvistsbabe @iwantahockeyhimbo @himbos-on-ice @2manytabsopen if you want to be added just shoot me an ask :)

[mviswidow]

you have terrible luck

Jane Banner x Reader

Word count: 2.2k

Warnings: language, someone was murdered and all that so blood, death, etc., anxiety

Prompt: heyyy! just wanted to say that i lOve the thérèse fic you did, absolute *chef’s kiss* 🤌🏼 i was wondering if you could do a jane banner one?where y/n assists on an investigation but jane and y/n have this rivalry but also sexual tension and like the reader asks jane out a few times, and in the end jane accepts. sUm like that ya know, if you don’t mind. wind river is one of my fav films and jane is just bae

A/N: ur so sweet omg, i’m glad you liked the thérèse fic, i honestly thought no one would end up seeing it bc there’s so little thérèse content on tumblr. i hope you like this one and tyg for sending me requests for other lizzie characters :)) i love writing for them <3 i got SUPER carried away w this one.. oops? i had half the mind to make this angsty at the end but i decided against it.

“Janieee,” You called, seeing the blonde not too far away.

She turned around and rolled her eyes with a smile, “I told you not to call me that.”

You shrugged and gave her a hug to greet her, “I can’t always listen to everything you say.”

Jane chuckled at that and crossed her arms, “Didn’t think it could take you any longer to get here.”

“Well I wasn’t exactly in the state, so,” You said, squeezing your hands together as the wind picked up and you got cold, “Wasn’t the last investigation you were on in the cold, too?”

“Unfortunately, yes,” She sighed, stuffing her hands in the pockets of her jacket before looking at you for a couple of seconds, “I don’t know why they keep putting us together.”

“Oh hush, you love when we get assigned to the same investigation,” You smirked, watching her huff and start leading the way to the body. 

A few hours later, the two of you made it to lunch in a quiet diner, “Where are we staying this time?” You asked as you shrugged your coat off and put it on the back of her chair.

“We?” she said with a raised brow.

You rolled your eyes, “You know we always get put in the same hotel room for these kinds of investigations. What would you have me do, sleep outside your door?”

“Would be nice,” she said sarcastically and sat down across from you, taking off the beanie she’d been wearing and smoothing her hair back.

You hummed, “Right, I forget you aren’t used to having attractive women in your bed.”

“For christ’s sake,” Jane groaned. “Can we work together once without you doing that?”

“When you finally go out with me, sure,” You smiled.

“We’re staying at a motel nearby,” she mumbled, looking down at her menu. “Now will you stop bothering me and figure out what you’re going to eat? We don’t have all day.”

——

“Has anybody been able to identify the body yet?” Jane asked you as she walked up after she got finished with a coffee run.

“Yes, uh- Mack Byrd, he was like 24, lived with a roommate, Bradley Collins. They have a cute dog, too.”

“You got all that while I was getting coffee?” She asked with a raised brow.

“Yep, You said, popping your ‘p’ and taking the coffee she was handing you. “I got their address too, one of the officers is friends with Bradley.” 

“Good,” She gave a small nod and your heart fluttered at the praise she so rarely gave. “You haven’t spoken to the roommate, though?”

“I’m not that good, Janie,” You teased, and she rolled her eyes at the name, humming in acknowledgment before walking away.

You stood there dumbfounded for a few seconds and before you were about to start wandering, but she turned around and called out to you, “What are you doing? Let’s go.”

By the time you caught up to her, she was already in the car, “You always get to drive.” You whined as you got in and closed the door.

Jane sighed and looked at you with her eyebrow quirked, “Are you serious?”

“..Yes?”

She turned the engine on and started backing out of her parking spot, “If you aren’t annoying you can drive us to the motel.”

“Since when do we negotiate for who drives?” You scoffed getting your phone out of your pocket to connect it to the aux cord to put on music and the directions to the house. You were glad that the one thing you and Jane didn’t argue about was the music you listened to.

“Since I figured out I’d benefit from it.”

You huffed, crossing your arms and taking your coat off before putting your seatbelt on.

Some minutes later of silence between the two of you, you spoke up, “Why are you always like this?”

“God,” she muttered. “Why am I like what, Y/n?” Jane asked, sounding irritated.

You frowned and turned up the music as you leaned against the window, away from her, but she turned it back down, “like what?” she repeated.

“Do you seriously not like me or are you just mean to everyone? I thought it was cute at first but now it’s like all you do is tell me to fuck off or that I’m annoying you.”

“Oh,” she sighed again. “Well, I’m not mean to everyone, I-”

Whatever she was going to say was interrupted by her phone going off, and you looked over to see your boss’ name on the screen.

She picked it up and spent the rest of the short car ride talking to him, and when you got to the house you opened the car door and got out quickly, not bothering to put on your coat until you were outside and the door was shut.

The rest of the day was really awkward. Usually, you bantered with her and it would make her laugh until she got bored of it, but you didn’t feel like talking to her so you tried your best to just talk to Bradley and ignore the way Jane’s eyes burned holes into your head.

When you’d gotten some information and it was time to leave, you said goodbye, offered your condolences, and went outside, leaving her to be walked out by the man. You made it to the car and stood by the passenger side, not wanting to have whatever stupid and awkward conversation she would try to have.

She seemed to get it because she just went around the car and unlocked it as she got to her side. You sat facing away from her the whole time. Was it childish? Yeah, maybe.

——

Jane let you shower first, and once she got in the bathroom for her turn, you made yourself tea in the little kitchen before leaving the room with a blanket around your shoulders to sit outside the doorstep in front of the balcony railing and watch cars pass every once in a while.

You enjoyed the sound of the cars passing and the wind blowing gently as you tried to ignore the uneasy feeling in your stomach. You didn’t want to fight with Jane. You teased each other a lot but it never got this serious.

Though you didn’t like to let yourself think about it very often, you liked Jane a lot. You had since the day you met her. There was a whole lot of sexual tension between the two of you, she knew it and so did you. The bickering was hot, the way she occasionally stared at you was hot, hell even the way she dismissed you after you said something stupid was hot. She didn’t seem like the type to date a coworker, though Maybe sleep with one, but your feelings would get complicated and then it would make things weird between the two of you.

Your sulking was interrupted when the door behind you was opened. You looked over your shoulder to see Jane in sweats letting out a breath of relief. You sighed and turned back to look at the street again while Jane hesitantly sat beside you.

Upon glancing at her, you realized you’d never really seen her looking this nervous before. You felt her looking at you for a few seconds before she cleared her throat and you looked over at her.

“I’m really sorry.”

“Okay,” You nodded hesitantly, waiting for her to say something else.

“I don’t dislike you, at all- it’s really the opposite. I think you’re really sweet and funny and you’re great company. I don’t think you’re annoying either-”

Your brow furrowed, “So now you can say you don’t think I’m annoying after you’ve hurt my feelings, but you complain about me all the time, so that means basically nothing.”

She nodded, “I know, and really, I am sorry. I have a habit of getting weird and kind of defensive around the people who I- well, like... I’m not good at showing people that I like them- their company. I’m trying to work on it. I don’t mean to be difficult and I don’t want this to fuck things us between because as much as we bicker and tease each other, I do like to think that we’re kind of friends.”

You hummed in acknowledgement, playing with your blanket for a few seconds, “You’re not as much of a bitch as I thought.”

Jane hit your arm playfully as you giggled, “Dick.”

“Hey, I thought the apology meant you were going to be nice to me from now on.”

“Nicer,” She chuckled. 

You turned towards her a bit, and pulled your legs up to your chest to rest your head on your knees, “But thank you for apologizing. I appreciate it.”

“I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings,” Jane frowned a bit as she turned towards you a little, matching the way you were sitting.

“I know,” you nodded. “But since it seems to be vulnerability night.. does it bother you that I ask you out all the time? I don’t want to make you uncomfortable or anything.”

“No,” She blushed as she shook her head. “It’s cute.”

“So you will go out with me then?”

“We’ll just have to see,” Jane hummed, making you laugh. “But you’re not mad at me anymore?”

“Not really. You’re pretty good company too,” You smiled, watching the way her hands were wrapped around herself, rubbing her arms. “Are you cold yet?”

“A little,” her nose scrunched and she let go of herself, flexing her fingers.

You sighed softly and got off the ground, “Let’s go inside.”

The rest of your night was spent well. You and Jane talked more than usual, and the conversations were more normal, with less teasing between the two of you. You shared a bed, which wasn’t new. 

You said goodnight to each other, you turned towards the edge of the bed, and after a short minute, you felt Jane moving around. She stopped when she was right behind you. Her forearm was against your back and you could feel her hair against your neck. 

Your demeanor towards each other over the next few days was calmer than usual. The teasing continued, of course, but it was more flirty and playful. You continued investigating after the medical examiner marked the case as a murder.

The nights were more than nice. Once you guys entered the motel every night, things felt very domestic. You’d fallen into a little routine to get ready for bed, one night you watched the Great British Baking Show together because apparently she loved it. 

After the first night, Jane started sleeping closer to you, and you stopped turning towards the edge of the bed. She seemed to seek out your touch.

On what neither of you knew would be your last night in the motel, you asked her about it.

“Are you okay?” You said quietly after she’d reached out for your arm.

“Is this not.. if you aren’t okay with it I can stop-”

“No, no- it’s nice. I’m just asking.”

You couldn’t see her since it was dark, but you heard her sigh and you felt her hand squeeze around your arm the tiniest bit, “I just get really anxious during the day because of like- I don’t know. Just- the last investigation I was on was kind of scary. I know this is our job but it doesn’t make it any better. Being around you helps, I think.”

“C’mere,” You sighed softly, turning to face her and holding your arms out.

“Are you sure?” She asked hesitantly.

“Mhm, get over here.”

Jane shuffled forwards and let out a breath when you pulled her closer and she tucked her head underneath your chin. She wrapped her arm around your waist, holding tightly, and you draped your arm over her to rub her back until she fell asleep.

——

“You have shit luck, Jane,” You huffed, because this was Jane’s second investigation in a row that has involved a shoot-out.

“Shut up, Y/n,” She hissed, breathing heavily as she pressed her back against the wall, getting ready to turn the corridor when she heard voices coming from far away.

“Sorry, I’m sorry,” You said, breathlessly before putting your hand on your arm. “Stay here, I’ll go.”

She looked conflicted, and her eyes flicked between yours before she grabbed you by the back of your neck and pulled you forward, kissing you eagerly for a few seconds.

When she pulled away you gave her a cheeky smile before turning the corner.

——

“Will you go on a date with me now?” You asked after Jane ended the call with your boss.

She bit her lip and smiled before nodding, “Yeah, yes. I really want to go on a date with you.”

[seancekitsch]

Out of the Rain: a Marko x Reader fic

Warnings: bloodplay goes without saying bc vamp, rough sex, dirty talk, semi public sex, telepathy?? me projecting my music taste on this fic again. drug use, fast and loose use of vampire lore bc when i write i am god and u cannot stop me. also can u tell i have like…. v clear descriptions of the setting like i used to work at the place im describing but its not in california

No one had come in for hours. What's the point of staying open? You dim some of the lights in the store, which is one of three head shops in Santa Carla, but the only one open late. You're not really sure why this is the only store that stays open, why everyone else if worried about the three am walk back to their car on a weekend night. You've never seen anything of suspicion, just sometimes that biker gang watches people shuffle out. That was almost comforting, though. People didn't like those guys, so no one would make you use your switchblade if they were around.

The bright while fluorescent lights of your typical daytime ambiance faded away, and now green light bathes you in the “mood” lighting your boss thought was a good idea. The green lighting reflects off of the glass counters, shining it back at the ceiling and making everything that much more green. It fits, you think with the overall vibe of the store. The stale scent of weed, gently and miserably covered up by some nag champa incense, always burning in at least four different spots within the store. You'd long since gotten used to the smoke in your eyes. The music does everything to add to the ambiance. You always have full control of the music in the shop, usually because no one else is willing to take the night shift in Santa Carla. In fact, most of the boardwalk shops had a revolving door of night shift workers. You never got why, something clearly spooks them that does not spook you. Whether that makes you brave or stupid, you dont know. Jefferson Airplane’s Surrealistic Pillow pumps through the speakers in the store. But I suppose no one knows, you're my plastic fantastic lover.

The rain batters the boardwalk outside, a roar much different than the typical hustle and bustle of drunk teens, of the cliques and crews that come in and out; the few that sit and snicker in the doorway, never entering. Some too afraid to be associated with the implication of being spotted in the shop. We sell jewelry and vinyl too, you always say, when they balk at the idea of being in the same room as a bong or incense.

But then there's the other group that stands and idles in the threshold, also not entering. It's that biker gang. Four guys, a girl, a kid. Maybe he’s the brat of the girl and the one who takes himself too seriously, but maybe not. She looks too young for that. They'd been hovering around quite a bit lately, always after dark. You’d spoken to them, at least the ones that are talkative. The hair metal wannabe and the cute short one. Paul and Marko. You knew the dark haired one was Dwayne, but all he ever offered you was a curt nod and a tight lipped smile, respectful but indifferent. They're nice, not worth the spooky reputation they have. Any time it's not just you at the shop, your boss tries to spook them away. Good thing your boss isn't here tonight, because one of them is prowling around the storefront in the rain. That is, if it's not your spliff induced haze playing tricks on you.

No, one of them is out there. Without his little pack. The cute one. Marko.

You walk over to the door, which you haven't had propped open since the rain trickled in as a drizzle at the beginning of your shift. At least he had enough sense to be huddling under the awning. Fuck, he’s handsome even when he looks like a drowned rat.

“What are you doing out here?” You scrunch up your nose as you ask.

“Y’know, waiting for you to show up.” Wanted a look at that cute ass.

You blink at him. Did he really just say that?

“Okay… well, you know it's raining out there, right?”

“I might,” he offers noncommittally, eyeing the spliff still in the hand that's not holding the door. If it were anyone but him, you'd probably get fired for it.

Why is he just hanging around out here? That's hella weird. His curls are getting matted to his forehead, slick with rain, his jacket starting to look a little sad.

“C’mon in, Marko. It’s too wet out here. You’ll fuck up your jacket.” You nod towards the interior of the shop holding the door open as he passes you.

Wrong move, sweet cheeks.

“What did you say?” What did he mean, wrong move?

“I didn't say anything,” he offers nonchalantly as he thumbs at one of the tapestries on the wall. A garish mess that’s supposed to be the worm from Alice in Wonderland, but it’s distorted by a botched tie dye job of dark muddy colors. Every time you look at it, you assume one of the day workers did it.

“No, you said something.”

“Do you want me to say something?” there's both a threat and an innuendo in his tone. Maybe you do, but you just laugh, a sharp exhale through your nose, and bring the spliff to your lips again as he follows you deeper into the store.

You jump up onto the counter next to the ash tray, easy reach for each time you need to ash.

“So why are you really here?” your eyes narrow at him, kicking your sandal off on the floor where it lands a few inches from his boots. He looks uneasy in the space, like for all the wild shit you assume he’s into, he might not actually belong in it. He sways a little to the music, perfectly in tune with the rhythm. You sway along too, and suddenly he fills the space like he belongs. He just needed someone along for the ride with him.

“Do you ever come around during the day, or just at night because I’m so fun?” You’re teasing him, but it’s a nice easy feeling between you.

“Not really a sun guy,” bullshit, he would look beautiful with a tan, “but I do drag everyone here just to see you.”

“Awww, all for me? Do you have a crush, Marko?”

It’s more than that. You hear the words clearly, but his smile doesn’t move. You kick the other sandal off.

“I can hear you, I don’t know how, but I can. I bet you can hear me too.”

I can. You’re wrong about the tan thing.

You straighten up, mind clearing as you blurt out your next question. Something absolutely stupid.

“So what are you, a vampire or something?” he laughs at you, but his big toothy smile doesn't reach his eyes. No, there's something predatory, extremely dark in his eyes. Otherworldly.

How could you guess?  

“Well, that for one big fucking clue.” You ash the spliff for the final time, leaving the roach in the tray. You would think you’d be more surprised, more upset that you just found out vampires were real, and that you were in the same room as one. You have to say, weirder things are probably afoot in Santa Carla. Murder capital of the world can’t all be from some rowdy teens and a ten year old.

“You do those surf nazis?” is all that leaves your mouth. You kind of hope it was. They were the fucking worst. Racist, misogynistic, destructive. You’d had to threaten them a few times to leave your store on your shift.

“The—? Oh! Surf nazis. Yeah that was us. Ate a few of them.”

“Good for you. I mean— murder. bad. But they were nazis, and now they’re dead. so…” you trail off. Not really sure what to say next, but then you keep going. Remember everything you know about Marko.

“No, no I mean, it makes sense. Right? You and the guys only hang around at night. Aren’t vampires solitary hunters though? I don’t remember Dracula being in a frat.”

“They’re my pack. We take care of each other.” He says it with such fondness and devotion.

You feel a pang of jealousy run through you. You work alone for the most part, live alone, you’ve got friends but they’re all over the place. He belongs to something.

“And you're down with this?” he’s legitimately asking. You nod. You don't really have a choice, you're down or you get eaten, but like genuinely you are down with it. If he was going to eat you, he probably would have by now. There's probably a reason they've been hanging around the store, and in your sightline while you close up. You're putting things together.

“Like really?”

“Well, you haven't made me a kebab yet.”

He shrugs, frowns.

“Could still skewer you on something.”

Laughter erupts from your lips while you roll your eyes, music to Marko’s ears. This is why he took a shine to you, it's easy to get along with you, and you're not one of his brothers.

Something heavy falls in the room, and it's not the haze of the incense. He steps towards you, big blue eyes raking over your body, but always coming back to meet your gaze. He closes the space between you, easily fitting between your thighs; the rough patches of his jacket brushing against your bare skin where your shorts ride up. He leans in, like he's about to kiss you, and against all better judgement, you're going to let him.

You're going to let him.

The record skips. He holds out his hand, more like a gentleman than a biker gang killer, and helps you off the counter.

“Hold on, let me pick out a new record,” you turn without waiting for his confirmation, not at all surprised when Marko follows hot on your heels to the back room. Your boss’ office, the record room. Whatever you wanted to call it. His hands ghost over your arms as you push past the wooden bead curtain to enter the room. You can feel his presence close enough to touch. That's it, right where I want you. There’s his voice again.

He lets you actually pick out a new record. You slide it out of the sleeve and walk it over to the player. The static buzzes and pops as the needle finds the groove.

“Ocean Rain, you heard it?” No. He shakes his head, and you can feel it as he leans into your back.

“Echo and the Bunnymen. They've got a new album coming out this year.”

You turn to face him and his fingerless leather glove clad hands cover your cheeks.

He kisses you gently, tenderly. Not at all the way you’d expect. He’s eager, kissing like there’s something to prove. He licks his way into your mouth, tongue pushing your lips apart and you let him. His arms tighten around you as you kiss, tongues now greeting each other playfully. Your tongue explores his mouth, running along each and every tooth in his mouth. Huh, no fangs, you realize, and maybe he isn't actually a vampire. As if he reads your mind (maybe he does), he pulls away.

“They're, uh, hiding,’ he nods, almost to himself more than you. You nod as well, slow and uneasy, not quite believing him, but he pulls you back into a harsh kiss, more of what you expected. His hands roam your body as yours bury themselves in his curls. Still damp, but long and beautiful just as well. He shrugs the jacket off his shoulders, and his hands only briefly leave you to throw it and his gloves somewhere else, leaving him just in a thin white tank top. His mouth leaves yours to trail lower, kissing your neck. Your pulse point. Fucking irresistable. No, that's definitely his voice. Is this the end? Could be.

“I can smell you, hot stuff,” he moans into your ear, sending shivers down your spine. You find yourself gripping onto his shoulders a little tighter, but he lets you sink. He guides you, again more gently than you thought he would; bare knees brushing the threadbare carpet floor before you plant yourself. You look up at him through your lashes and he all but bites back a groan.

“You gonna join me down here?” You lick your lips, waiting for something.

“Nah, I’m gonna let you have a head start,” there's a joke in his tone. You're learning that’s normal for him. He’s silent, or playing jester. It’ll be interesting when you let him fuck you. Shit, did he hear that?

“Quit thinkin’ so loud!” he runs an affectionate hand through your hair. “But yes, I heard you. Glad you're as eager as I am.”

That's encouraging. You take your time undoing his belt, connected to faded and soft leather chaps, not bothering to push them down his thighs before you move to the top of his jeans, teasing your fingers at the skin just above the waistline. He shudders under your touch, extremely reactive. Does he get touched like this often? Or is it just quick fucks? You don't want to think about who else he might be doing this with, focusing again on his body, and all of the offending clothing covering it. You unbutton them slowly, teasing. For a member of the undead, he seems to be out of breath under your movements. The zipper is pulled down just as slowly. You run your palms flat along the bottom of his stomach, to his hips before pushing his jeans down to around his ankles, hooking his boxers on your finger along with them. He’s beautiful, and you can help but stare. Hard, eager, and thick, greeting you with a small trimmed patch of golden blonde curls. You wrap your hand around the base.

You never expected a vampire to whimper, but that's exactly what happens when your tongue darts out of your mouth to lick the head of his cock. Quick, tentative little lick, testing the waters. Your tongue swipes across the slit at the tip of his thick member and his hands animate like you flipped a switch, rising up, going to your hair, rising up again, slamming down against the desk. Your boss’ desk. You lick a long stripe to the underside of his cock, paying close attention to the prominent vein there.

“So good, so good, oh you feel so-” he pants out, hands white knuckling the edge of the desk. Heat pools in your core, loving that he’s so vocal. Fuck, if he could just keep speaking. Your other hand moves to your shorts, sloppily and hastily undoing them and wiggling them down to your knees. You wrap your lips around the head of his cock and sink down on it, taking him as far as you can, until you couch when he hits the back of your throat.

“You look fucking beautiful like that. Please move, Please move, you’re so fucking good at this.”

You do, starting to bob your head up and down on the length of him, hollowing out your cheeks and flattening your tongue against him, cupping and massaging his balls in your hand. Your free finds itself between your legs, rubbing gently at your clit, stirred and encouraged by his praise.

“Does sucking me off get you hot and bothered?” Yesitdoes.

You keep bobbing your head, rubbing your clit, eyes trained on his until his eyes squeeze shut. His cock twitches in your mouth.

“Don't wanna- don't wanna finish in your mouth,” he’s urgent, grabbing you by the chin and pulling your mouth off of his cock. He pushes you back by your shoulders, letting you guide yourself back to lay on the rug. He pulls your loose shorts easily off your legs and settles himself between your legs, too eager to bother with removing his boots and everything.

“I’ve been wanting to do this for so long. Do you know how bad I wanted this?”

“Fuck me, Marko, dont say it. Just do it,” youre breathless under him, wanting nothing more than for him to be fucking you. He pauses.

“I dunno…” his thumb swipes up along your clit, drawing a whine from your throat, “For some reason I think you like it when I say things.”

You nod, knowing words will fail you. And he gives you what you want, lining himself up and sinking into you, groaning as he buries his head into the crook of your neck.

“Oh I knew your pussy would feel like fucking heaven,” he pants against your neck, pressing a harsh kiss to the underside of your jaw. He sets the pace quickly, unmerciful and fast, fucking hard and deep into you. His hands push up your thin tee shirt, and you can feel his sigh of relief when he gets a handful of bare breast. He doesn't have to deal with a bra tonight. You hike your knees up, opening yourself as much as you can to him, wanting him to fill you to the brim. He looks into your eyes while he fucks you, which comes as a surprise to you. Maybe it shouldn't. You wonder what it would be like to be a victim of his. Does he treat them well? Have fun with them like this? Or is he vicious? You don't know if you could picture him like that… vamped out.

“What does it feel like?”

“What?” he thrusts sharply, snapping his hips into you, making you yelp.

“To be fed on, but not to die.”

Are you serious? You hear him in your head.

YesIam. He thrusts like that again, earning an identical yelp, now coupled with your thighs squeezing him around the middle. You're close already, and he can tell.

He nods, a question; You nod, confirmation.

He pulls at the neckline of your shirt, already scooping so it doesn’t ruin, and exposes your shoulder. Somewhere non lethal. His other hand comes up to grip your jaw, covering your neck but being careful not to squeeze it. You hope he bruises your jaw, you realize. A physical way to feel him when dawn comes. He slows his pace to a rocking, grinding into you, staying deep.

Then he bites. Stars erupt behind your eyes, and it feels like your blood has turned to seltzer. Every nerve in your body is in overdrive as you moan and shake and come undone around his cock. You're the kind of girl that comes from the bite of a vampire, apparently. He doesn’t let up. You can faintly hear him moaning against the open wound in your shoulder, and you hope you taste good to him. He licks the wound a few times more, softly, carefully, like he’s trying to soothe you when he finally lets you come down from your high.

When he pulls back to let you see him, his features are gruesome, full vampire with sharp brows and cheekbones, pointed nose even that much more so almost birdlike. Fangs and bottom half of his face covered in blood.Your blood.  He’s panting like an animal after the kill. But he doesn't scare you. Maybe he should, but he doesn't.  It's just Marko, no matter what, and if he wanted to eat you he would have. Several times now. His hand finally releases your jaw, to wipe the blood from his face. He wipes his hand then on your face, covering you in your own blood, hot on his fingers and palm.

“Fuckin sexy,” he pants, voice deeper and distorted. His thrusts speed up, trying to find his own release as your nails dig into his back, maybe making him bleed as well. You feel the rug burn forming on your back, you feel tears in your eyes. It's never felt this good with other guys.

When he comes, he comes with a howl, buried deep inside you as he shouts and shivers then stills above you. Your chest is heaving, trying to regain yourself as his face slowly fades to normal, and he slumps down on top of you. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, near the wound he tore open, now no longer bleeding. He mouths at any bare skin he can find, lazy half kisses as he spreads more mess and blood on you. Your fingers find his curls again, winding them around your digits as you stare up at the sickly green mood lighting bathing the walls of the room.

An hour later, Marko is helping you lock up early.

He makes sure to dump out all of the ashes from spliffs and incense, makes sure the vinyl is all in its right place while you make sure the register and inventory is all in its rightful place and order.

“You’re dangerous, you know.”

“Me?” you scoff, “That rich, coming from you.”

I’d do a lot of things I’m not supposed to for you. You kinda don't want to ask him what he means by that. For some reason that feels like a conversation you shouldn't have tonight. 

He leaves the store before you, holding the door open for you and letting you lock the doors. He slings an easy arm over your shoulder, not bothering to shield either of you from the rain as he steers you towards your car. You can feel the rain cleaning your face, the blood flowing away and saving you the shower you were going to take before collapsing into bed tonight.

“Where’s your bike?”

“I flew here,” he says with that devilish smile, and you're really not sure if he's joking or not. Your arm sneaks its way into his jacket and wraps around his waist, holding him close as he makes sure you get home same. Marko makes you feel calm, in a way you didn't feel before you moved to Santa Carla. How long had he been waiting to make his move? And does this mean he and his brothers would be coming around more often? Maybe being more friendly towards you. Each step towards your car feels heavy; You don't want to go home alone without him, but somehow you know he won't come with you. 

“Will I see you again?”

He grabs your car keys from your hand, and sticks them in the door handle. Of course you will.

Right. You just have to be near the beach at night. You know, where you work.

He kisses you full on the mouth, holding you close and tight, like you could slip away at any second. When he finally lets you go you pull away to be met with his face, full on grinning, his eyes still closed from the kiss. He doesn't look like a killer.

Marko watches you as you pull open the door to your car and more or less throw your ass into the seat.  He holds the door as he gives you one last smile, and says:

“You know, you should never invite a vampire into your life. Renders you powerless.”

And he winks. 

[shoutogepi]

“Fuck You!””I Just Might.”

Bakugou Katsuki

word count : 7.1k holy hecc

[ ✘ (nsfw!) ]

themes : nasty nasties hehe.. choking, angry sex, dom bakugou (what’s new lmao), lots of sexy vengeful teasing, & almost being caught (? idk what to call that haha)

bio : You and Ground Zero are far from getting along in almost every aspect… except for getting off perhaps.

author’s note : wow another smut whodathunkit !!! This isn’t super romantic (Happy VDay my sweets!!) but goddamn if u thirstin today drink tf up bc the SALOON IS OPEN AND HERE’S THE SPECIAL ON DA HOUSE

side note: (Y/H/N) = your hero name, also the sidekick is 100% out my ass not real bc I didn’t feel like doing legit research heheh. also, all characters are aged up to long past UA-grad in this (so everyone is 18+!!)

tagging: @lordexplosionsextra per request -- hope you enjoy bb :) happy vday!

also available on AO3 here

   ─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

🄰rms crossed, chest puffing in defiance, your gaze shoots daggers into his stupid smirk. “I’m not your fucking sidekick, Boom-Boy, so you can crawl back into the putrid swamp you came from and take your damn paperwork with you!”

“H-hey now,” Bakugou’s sidekick laughs nervously, hands waving in front of him as he shakes off the jab you just took at him inadvertently.

Bakugou laces his gloved fingers over his lap and kicks back in his chair, straightening his legs so his boots rest on the table across from you. “Listen, Princess, you know the rules. Whoever gets the final blow doesn’t have to do the nitty-gritty shit,” he answers, shrugging nonchalantly.

“You only got the finisher in ‘cuz I was busy doing everything else! You pop in at the last second and get all the credit and no busywork? Fuck off,” you fume, hooking your foot around the leg of his chair and ripping it toward you. Bakugou’s eyes widen as he falls backwards, tumbling onto the hard floor. He grimaces at you from the floor, vermillion eyes ablaze.

“It’s not my fault you’re too stupid to strategize! Don’t start shit you can’t fucking finish yourself!” He barks, voice spiking with fury. Ouch, that one stung your pride a little.

“You’re such an asshole,” you snarl, shoving the stack of papers off the table. The pages swirl in the air and scatter onto the tiled floor, some landing on the instigator’s lap. Bakugou’s palms crackle as his breath is stolen at your audacity. Your sidekick lets out a startled noise, jumping at the sudden popping. Bakugou’s sidekick has his hand on his temple, attempting to rub out the headache forming at this mess.

Why did you two have to hate each other so much?

The two sidekicks stand stiffly against the wall as you shove by them, Bakugou glaring at your ass as your hips swing around the doorway, out of his sight.

It’s late, the purple sky littered with the lights of the lively city. The villain you— or Bakugou, you suppose— had taken down earlier had been the last job of the day and you’re tired of the stupid bullshit he always serves you when the two of you work together.

Usually your agency kept the two of you on opposite boundaries of the patrol area, but you had begrudgingly needed help with this last offender of the day. Your quirk didn’t do incredibly well against villains with close-combat styles, but you could still manage. Unfortunately, the guy that had been causing mayhem earlier was beyond powerful up close, and he had landed a hit that knocked the wind out of you and made you slower than usual. It wasn’t a major injury or anything, but you’d probably have a nasty bruise on your torso after you took off this goddamn gimp-suit of a costume. Luckily, you had visited the in-house, agency healer in the infirmary upon arrival from the job, and they had sucked the nasty welt off your skin and redirected it somewhere else as their quirk allowed. The pain subsided mostly, just a bit sore where the bruise would’ve been.

You close the door to your office gently, a heavy sigh releasing as you make your way toward the desk. It was almost quitting time, but you still had to finish up the paperwork from the other case you had dealt with this morning. Clicking on the desk lamp, you breathe in to calm your frayed nerves, eyes closing briefly as you try to find the energy to finish your work.

The door bursts open, slamming almost immediately and tearing you out of your attempt at meditation. Bakugou stands in there, steam practically billowing from his nose and scarlet eyes flashing with agitation.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” He snarls, prowling toward you with an accusatory, gloved finger raised.

“Excuse me?” You quip, irritation revitalized almost instantly. “Who do you think you are, storming into my office after the shit you pulled today?”

He stops in front of you, glowering down at you. You turn your face slightly, your eye level meeting his chest and not wanting to look at that. He was kind of muscular up close like this, you’d never noticed because you’d always created the most distance as possible between you two.

“Oh, you mean me saving your ass? Yeah, my bad, woman,” he growls, letting his gaze linger on the way your eyelashes kiss your cheek bones as you scoff, eyes closed in annoyance.

You glare at him, infuriated. “I didn’t need your fucking help! Did I ask you to come?”

He takes his time to reply, stare holding your attention briefly before he licks his lips. “No, but your sidekick did.”

The sentence is like a cold slap to the face, and you push him backwards with newfound anger. “Don’t fucking lie to me Bakugou,” you seethe, hands clenched into fists. “If you’re gonna lie at least come up with something believable!”

“Tch. She did call me, brat, and she begged me to come to your rescue like you were a goddamn damsel in distress,” he grunts, breaking eye contact with you as he hunches slightly, strong hands shoved into his pockets. Bristling at the refreshed anger rippling off of you, he already knows what you’re going to say. “She said that shitty villain got his hands on you, yeah right you had it under control.”

You don’t know what to say. You can’t really refute that the assailant had managed to hurt you, but you still wish Bakugou hadn’t heard that information. The asshole already thinks he’s the hottest shit in the agency, you really don’t want to give him any evidence of your weaknesses. So you sit on the edge of your desk, sighing once again. “I can handle one hit, dipshit,” you mutter. “It’s already healed anyway.”

“Yeah, yeah, you can take care of yourself,” he grumbles, gaze flickering to your grim expression before he looks intently at the picture on your wall.

The silence that ensues is uncomfortable. You had never really talked to Bakugou before-- usually every time the two of you were together you were having a shouting match, throwing insults back and forth relentlessly. You aren’t really sure how to reply, and you absolutely did not want to acknowledge that he had come to your rescue when you actually needed him.

Bakugou is as silent as you are. He wonders where you’d been hit momentarily, before pushing off the thought because god forbid he show emotions. He’d already had his fill of feelings for the day. He sure as hell would never tell a soul, but the second he had seen your sidekick’s name flash across his phone screen this evening, his stomach dropped like he’d been the one to receive the villain's punch, not you. Shoving away the intrusive thought, his trademark scowl surfaces to his face.

“You know, I still haven’t heard a ‘thank you’.”

His irritating voice slices through the tension in the room, and you bristle at his impudence. “Gee, Ground Zero,” he ruffles at his hero name, a frown bending his thin lips,” thanks so much for stealing my job and taking the credit for it too, and really— thank you so much for the paperwork as well. I’m just so grateful.”

“Tch. Don’t be so bitchy, you know I saved your ass today so just fess up and thank me already. You’ll feel better once you spit it out,” he provokes, thick arms crossing over his chest.

“Fuck you,” you hiss, scowling at his smug face. The snarl that breaks his lips is ignored as your eyes turn to slits directed toward him.

He laughs at your malicious look, mouth transforming into a sleazy grin. He can’t stop himself even though he’s a tad hesitant, but his bold and loud nature wins out and he says cooly, “I just might.”

You gape at him, the smile on his mouth escalating your agitation. “W-What?” You choke out meekly, palms pushing you off the desk to stand upright.

He has the gall to grin, taking a step toward you. His heavy boots clunk against the floor, and you move backwards only to bump into the desk again. You cast a futile glare at the desk, and when you look back at him, he’s looming over you. “I think it’s time we acknowledge this thing we have, (Y/H/N).”

Your lips part in surprise, the blush tainting your cheeks slightly. “I have no idea what you’re referring to,” you stammer. Your arms crossing over your chest, he can’t help but notice how your breasts squish upwards, cleavage visible through your skin-tight costume.

“I think you do,” he chuckles with a low voice, gaze regarding the pink pigment gracing your cheeks. He savors it, lips curling into a smirk. His hands meeting the edge of your desk as he leans in, his body brushes against your arms. You rear back, shock evident on your face with lips parted as he tips his head to the side. He cages you in, an unfamiliar look simmering in his crimson irises. “You can feel the tension between us too. I know it, Princess.”

You’re once again at a loss for words. What the hell is happening right now? You think, mind reeling desperately to change the subject. “I hate it when you call me that,” you spit out, looking up to catch his intense stare. It wasn’t dishonest, you hated his pet name for you. Just because you weren’t as careless as him, he’d tacked the snide nickname to you awhile back because he knew it pissed you off. “It’s a stupid name that only your idiot brain could come up with.”

Take the bait, please take the bait.

“The way you treat me like I’m beneath you, what else can I call you?” His breath fans against your cheek and you hate to admit it’s fresh and minty, not at all as nasty and troll-like as you’d convinced yourself it would be. “But I guess that’s ‘cuz you really wouldn’t mind having me under your lap, right?”

You gasp at his crude suggestion, knees smacking together as your thighs clench automatically. “Fuck off, Bakugou,” your voice trembles slightly, your palms hesitantly landing on his chest. Your attempt to push him is less than half-hearted, and he smiles at your crumbling resolve.

His fingers skim along the small of your back, perching his hand on your waist. You can feel its warmth through your costume and his glove, and your body bends into his hold on its own accord, your ass pushing back while your chest grazes his. He exhales harshly, his other hand docking on the top of your stiffened thigh, thumb falling into the curve between your legs. You wish it was higher up, and the recognition of your craving makes your blush a few shades darker.

“What was that?” He snickers, lips brushing your earlobe as his nose pushes away your cascading hair. He didn’t expect you to smell so good after a long day of fighting crime.

Your fingers grab onto his costume, clawing at the material and you’re not sure if it’s in anger or desire. But Bakugou is sure, his fingers rubbing your waist as he glances at your restless hold on his costume. “Oh, bite me,” you spit out, your bottom lip caught between your teeth.

His lips touch your jaw, and you can feel the sneer that rests so prominently there. “Manners, Princess… say please,” he chides, tongue poking out to trace the soft skin there.

A quiet moan escapes you and Bakugou groans loudly in response. He draws his face back to lock eyes with you, stare taught with the tension the two of you have built over all this time.

“You gonna tell me you’ve never thought about us fucking?” He inquires, eyes darting to your lips and returning to your gaze. “All those times we riled each other up, every time we pushed each other’s buttons over and over— you gonna say you never thought about getting me to shut the hell up by any means necessary?”

Your eyes roll in your head, from a combination of lust and disbelief. You cannot believe you're letting him hold you like butter in his hot hands, melting you and licking you up. You glare at him, his lips just close enough to distract you. You weren’t going to let him mould you like putty anymore. “I bet you wanna think that I have, Bakugou,” you whisper, and he looks at you with mild surprise adorning his handsome face. Your blush infects him immediately, a flush spreading over his own cheeks and he’s suddenly very glad his costume has a mask. “You think I haven’t noticed you checking me out every second of the day, Boom-Boy?”

He seems at a loss for words as your wrists wrap around the back of his neck, pulling his face down and level to yours. His brow bursts into a sweat as one of your hand curls around his costume’s throat piece, trailing south and following the delicious line between his pecs down his abs. Your fingernails scraping through his costume, his skin prickles as he gasps. Your lips meet his stubbled jaw, mirroring the action he had performed to you a moment ago. His fingers tighten their hold on you, his body jerking almost invisibly at the contact. “You ogle at me much more, little Miss Priss,” he says cockily even though his voice sounds forced.

It was your turn to curl your lips into a sultry smile, half-lidded eyes regarding his shocked, eager stare. “I thought I told you not to tell your phony lies, Bakugou,” your murmur against his jawline, hand curving around his pelvis and to drag down his outer thigh. “It’s a sin to lie, you know.” Your fingers skim the very ridge of the bulge in his pants, teasingly tracing the outline and watching him close his eyes, his grin seeming strained.

“You know a lot about sins, then?” he pants, sliding his hand down from your waist slowly, fingertips stretching eagerly to push into your plush ass.

You nip at his skin playfully, and he shudders in response. Your raise your head to meet his hungry gaze, your coy smile still beaming. “I might… You want me to demonstrate my knowledge?” Your tongue parts your lips, eyes falling to his slightly agape mouth. Your breath tangles, and his eyelids flutter shut as your lips graze.

The hand on your thigh grips your flesh tighter and you whimper, your mouth tingling at the harder contact of the kiss. His other hand slides south and cups your tailbone, calloused fingers bringing your ass toward him. The sudden movement surprises you, and you grab onto his neck, making his chin dip down as your hips slide into his crotch. You clash into him, your lips colliding as sparks fly through the air.

You both moan into each other’s mouths, the kiss desperate and hot. Your tongue pokes out to probe his bottom lip and he gladly receives your wet muscle with his own. Your legs trapped between his shuffle as you wiggle your hips, savoring his fiery hands gliding over your figure.

Bakugou’s hands are firm but warm, caressing your waist and hips and heating them up. He growls as your hips buck against his, rubbing the tent in his baggy pants. One of his hands slides along the smooth fabric of your hero suit, cupping the swell of your breast in his large palm as his thumb runs over your nipple. You throw your head back, and his lips gladly blaze the trail of your throat with a scorching urgency. Your fingers move to his arm pieces, clamoring at the top of the machinery near his elbows. He gladly slides the gadgets off, placing them in one of the chairs facing your desk while he rips off his black gloves. He hastily throws the neck piece onto the seat as well before he turns and captures your lips once more.

When his fingers return to your hips, you can feel the true heat of his burning palms through your bodysuit, making you arch into him wantonly. His tongue battles yours fiercely, both of you fighting for dominance as his hands glide up to your waist and fumble with your belt. You can feel his rigid muscles through his thin tank top, your hands wandering greedily underneath the right material to touch his smooth skin.

Bakugou smirks as your belt falls onto the desk, hands falling and grabbing onto your ass cheeks eagerly, pulling you closer to his body. You take the chance to shove your tongue into his mouth and he groans at the impact, jaw slackening as he allows your tongue to take control. He grinds into you slowly, making your thighs tremble with apprehension. His mouth detaches from yours, and the string of saliva connecting your tongues is sliced as his shirt flies through the air. You drink in the sight of his naked chest, muscles swelling and flexing, tapering down into a delicious V that disappears underneath his belt.

You grab the belt, yanking his body close to yours again and sighing as your lips meet once more. “You’re really man-handling me Princess,” he comments amusedly into your lips as your fingers grapple with his belt, toying with the latch.

“Shut the fuck up,” you snarl, teeth sinking into his bottom lip and harnessing a moan from him,” and touch me already, pussy.”

His vermillion gaze ignites, mouth crashing onto yours as his fingers slide underneath the swell of your ass. He lifts you like you’re but a paperweight, and you moan as your legs wrap around his hips. His tongue crushing yours, his kisses so intense that your head leans back at the sizzling force. You jump slightly as your ass meets the cushion of your desk chair, eyes opening to see he’d rounded the desk and knelt in front of you. His knees on the ground, he looks up at you haughtily, hands coasting slowly down your legs toward your center. “Is this where you want me?” he feigns innocence and you glare down at him. His thumb hooks the crotch of your leotard, and he shoves the material to the side roughly, making you gasp.

The cool office air greets your cunt, making it throb even more in arousal. “Bakugou,” you whine as he watches your face, shifting your hips in a feeble attempt to catch his attention. He slinks down, lips brushing over your panties softly as he watches you squirm. He grins against the black lace, thumb curling around the skinny part of the thong over your asshole, making you shiver.

“You’re right Princess,” he grumbles, tongue gliding over the wet spot that had leaked through the material, inhaling your scent pervertedly as he closes his eyes in triumph. Your bottom lip is prisoner to your teeth again as you watch his teasing movements, unable to tear your eyes away from him. “Sometimes when you’ve got me all riled up, I jerk off thinking about how good your bratty little ass would look bouncing on my dick.” You can’t help but whimper at his confession, rolling your hips against his mouth in desperation.

He smirks up at you, crimson irises glittering with savory mischief. His hands snake around your thighs, clutching onto the junction they meet your hips with vigor. He pushes your body down into the seat so you can’t wriggle any longer, and he feels your cunt clench against his chin when he nips at your panties, teeth dragging along your clit. You wail his name again lowly, harsh breaths ripping through your lungs.

He growls in response, thumb ripping the lace to the side and exhaling at the sight of your swollen cunt, grin broadening at the excessive glaze that he had caused. “Fuck,” he laments, tongue poking out to graze your clit experimentally. Satisfied with the way your hand flies to cover your mouth, he places a teasing kiss there. “You know,” he murmurs against your slick nerve,” More than once I’ve wondered how hot and sweet your cunt must be, hiding underneath this skimpy little leotard.”

You let out a shaky breath, eyebrows cinching as you glower down at him, meeting his pleased gaze. “Why don’t you find out for yourself then?” you hiss, baring your teeth at his infuriatingly proud smirk.

“Bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you, Princess?” Bakugou’s tongue glides along the side of your slit, making you stiffen and shut your eyes tightly. Of course he’s a fucking tease.

A knock sounds at your door to pull you out of your collapsing mind, and you sit up straight, eyes wide as Bakugou’s sidekick peeks into the room.

Bakugou stills, unsure as to who it is, staying hidden behind your desk and still holding your hips harshly.

“Hey Y/N, have you seen Ground Zero possibly? He’s stormed off as usual and I can’t find him anywhere,” the sidekick says, blinking at you with unsuspecting eyes.

“Oh, H-Hikaru,” you gulp, hesitantly placing your hands on your desk. Bakugou is quiet underneath you but you’re preparing yourself for the little shit to pull something stupid.

And he does.

Bakugou’s tongue slips between your folds suddenly, licking a large stripe from the bottom to the top of your slit, sucking in your clit and rolling his tongue around it brazenly.

“Oh my god!” you yell, hand slapping over your mouth too late. Hikaru looks at you incredulously, regarding your pink cheeks and sweaty forehead. “I can’t believe him! W-what an asshole!” you pant as Bakugou sucks harder, your pussy clenching onto itself. “He probably left so you’d do the paper… mmm, paperwork for h-him.” You abs are flexed so hard, straining in order to restrain the mess of moans that Bakugou is summoning.

Hikaru finds your tone a bit peculiar, but he continues anyway. “Uh, probably… Are you okay Y/N? You look kind of… sick,” he comments, head tilting to the left. “Did you get that jab checked out yet? I can take you to the infirmary if you want. If it’s bad I can drop you off at your place, too.”

Bakugou doesn’t like that suggestion. He doesn’t need to lick his fingers, your drenched core welcomes the digits instantly. Your walls accommodate his middle and ring finger eagerly and he smirks as they sink into you, knuckle-deep.

“Yes!” you shriek, quickly shooting a glare down at the blonde, your hair covering your face from his sidekick. “I mean— yes, I had it checked out and I’m f-fine, thank you for the concern, Hikaru,” you explain, a forced smile on your lips as you silently beg him to leave.

Bakugou stretches his fingers inside you, scissoring them to coat them in your essence before he puts them together again. His wrist strained in the forced position, he flicks the digits back and forth, almost laughing in glee as he recognizes that soft velvety spot deep within you.

Hikaru blinks at you again before he nods half-heartedly. “Okay… Well if you need me, I’ll be in the conference room doing Bakugou’s job,” he laughs, tucking out of the door and closing it finally.

“He wishes he could do my job, fucker,” Bakugou grunts, mouth immediately returning to satiating your needy hole.

You sag into the chair, a quiet moan floating out of you as Bakugou continues to finger you, his lips slurping up your clit once more. Shooting a heated look at him, you bare your teeth at him, and choke out a hiss,” Fuck you!”

Bakugou only chuckles, savoring the way your cunt throbs around his digits. “I didn’t think you were so impatient, brat.” He doesn’t slow his actions though, knuckles ramming against your skin. He enjoys the way you gasp as he moves your thigh over his shoulder, his tidy fingernails pressing into your trembling leg. “You taste pretty good, Y/N. I guess it’s just your personality that’s bitter,” he remarks, smiling against your sex as his fingers slide out of you.

You toss him a pointed look as he wipes his chin with the back of his hand. “Excuse you, Boom-Boy,” you chide,” only my friends get to call me that!”

“Tch, I get to eat your pussy but I can’t call you by your name? You really know how to make a guy work for it,” he scoffs, sounding mock-hurt, and now menacing over you.

You frown in response but it quickly melts into a smirk. “Don’t worry, Katsuki,” you observe how he closes his eyes, the corner of his mouth twitching as his hand turns into a fist,” I’ll return the favor.” You tentatively place your hands on his belt, undoing the clasp and resting the heel of your palm against his clothed, hard cock. You gently undo the fastenings around his thick thighs, placing the belt with his grenades onto your desk cautiously. You weren’t trying to be blown up just for some dick.

He hooks his thumbs into the waistband of both his black pants and underwear, annoyed with you taking your sweet ass time. His bare cock springs free, greeting your hungry gaze with an inviting sheen of sticky precum trailing down his hard length. You gawk at the sight, genuinely surprised to find he was so… well equipped.

“So this is why you’re so cocky, huh?” you state, eyes following the protruding vein running the entirety of his full, flushed member.

He barks out a laugh which dies in his throat as you press a chaste kiss to his weeping pink tip. Your tongue flat against your bottom lip, you slide his cock into your mouth and moan at the salty, provocative taste of him. His length almost as thick as your throat itself, you gag gently as you take him whole into your mouth before quickly pulling back. You place your hand around the base of his now-slick cock, your mouth sucking and bobbing on the top half of him as you jerk your fist at the same tempo.

Bakugou is much louder than you expected him to be, and the way his erotic, serrated breath is tearing from his lungs makes your pussy clench in desire. His chest heaves, the bulging muscles on his torso tense underneath his surprisingly smooth skin. Your other hand wanders up his abs, enjoying the way the ridges between them are so defined. He growls as your finger rubs over his nipple, his hand catching your wrist in a tight grasp but not doing anything to stop the action.

You purr on his cock, slippery hand leaving the base to cup his balls, eliciting a hiss from him as he sucks air in between his gnashing teeth. Confidence torrenting through your veins at his reaction, your jaw drops as wide as you can muster, your mouth gliding further down his length.

Bakugou’s empty hand collects the hair falling around your face, holding it for you as you weave back and forth. His jaw falls slack as the head of his dick rubs the back of your throat, summoning a soft gag that makes your mouth vibrate around him. Your wrist hurts a little from his tight grasp, but the way his fingernails dig into your skin makes your core shiver in delight. “Shit, Y/N.”

You don’t bother to correct him this time, thumb running over his balls just hard enough to make him shake a bit, savoring the way he is panting and quaking before you. The hand grasping your hair nimbly shimmies closer to your skull, his fingers twisting almost too tightly onto the roots of your hair. You allow him to coax your mouth closer, his arm guiding your face to take his length deeply. A low growl tears from the bottom of his lungs as you lock eyes with his impassioned stare. His hips nudge smally against your lips, his tongue poking out to run over his lip as he pulls back and glides back inside your sweltering throat.

You moan forcefully, savoring the the strangled noise that slithers from his now gaping mouth. Taking initiative once more, you begin to jerk your neck back and forth quickly, wincing as his grip tightens on your wrist. Bakugou tries his best to repress his moans but the way your bratty throat welcomes his hard cock makes him see tiny, fizzling explosions when he closes his eyes.

His hips rear back, and you almost fall off the chair as you lean in to close the distance. He catches you easily, hot hands landing on your shoulders as his gaze locks with yours, inexplicable desire sizzling between the two of you. His hands fly down to collect your ass cheeks, and he picks you up just to place the apple of your cheeks on the desk behind him. Teetering on the edge of the wooden furniture, your legs wrap around his waist, and his lips slam onto yours again. His fingers frantically running over your super suit, he snarls in frustration when he can’t find the zipper.

You laugh at him mockingly, catching his eye as you pinch the zipper on the side of your neck, the material shrinking away immediately with elasticity. He watches as your breasts pop out of the silky, neoprene-like fabric, bouncing with hardened, pink nipples standing perkily to greet him.

“No bra?” He reprimands but his time sounds more turned on than accusatory. “Princess, you’re so naughty.” His hands fly to your tits, groping the soft and supple flesh with fervor. You unzip the rest of your side, pulling your arms out of the sleeves and carefully angling your hips so you can slide the suit off into a crumpled pile on the ground. In just your tiny little thong now, Bakugou closes the gap, pressing flush against your clothed center and grinding his wet cock against your damp underwear.

Your head tilts back and you whine, gasping as his mouth slides along your throat, hot tongue caressing the tender skin. “Please, Bakugou,” you wail, his thumbs rubbing your sensitive nipples hastily.

“God, you must be tight if you’re this high-strung,” he purrs next to your ear, enjoying the way your cunt clenches noticeably underneath your panties. Speaking of those… his fingers snatch the delicate lace to the side, his other hand grabbing his dick and running his swollen tip over your slit. He dips the head into your hole but recedes instantly, brushing it over your glistening trove before repeating the action. The teasing has your head spinning, harsh pants falling from you both and mingling in the thin divide between you. He can’t take it any longer, his hips snapping into yours as his dick easily disappears halfway into your steamy, aching cunt. “I fucking knew it,” he grunts, jaw clenching as your velvety walls embrace his girth, your cry of pleasure music to his ears. “Your cunt is so snug around my cock.”

His hips push into your thighs further, only stopping once he’s balls-deep, sunk completely in your flittering sex. Hand leaving your thong to the side of your cunt, he grabs your hip and pulls your ass close. You groan at his cock nestling even deeper into your sopping hole, and your hips jerk against his as his hand curls around your lower back, securing itself so his fingers coil snugly around your waist. You choke on a sob as he thrusts into you again, his thick member prodding you in a very private place.

“You better fuck me already,” you growl at his pace that was testing your nerves, ready to be fucked into submission. Not that you were going to go down without a fight.

He chuckles cockily, a sly grin on his lips. “Your wish is my command.” His hips slam against yours and your teeth sink into his shoulder, muffling a scream of desire. He ruts into you with ease, your arousal making it almost effortless for his cock to spread the tense walls of your desperate pussy. His free hand claps against the swell of your ass, the noise slicing through the air and you scowl at him. It’s like he wants to be caught.

Ragged breaths tumble from the both of you, your saliva trickling down his chest as your teeth are still fastened into his broad shoulder. “F-Fuck, Bakugou,” you keen, each time his pelvis pressing against you tightly forcing your vision to shake.

“Katsuki,” he huffs, his left hand pushing your chin up to capture your half-lidded gaze. “Say it, Princess— fuck, tell me who’s making you feel so good,” he demands, eager to hear his name leave your lips in such an intimate way once more. His hips change tempo from his fast and hard pace to a slower, more sensual rolling motion, milking the desired reaction out of you.

The novel movement pressing deliciously against your clit, your unabashed whimpers fall onto his eager ears.  Your fingers raise to pinch the top of his black eye mask, pushing the material up over his forehead so it tucks his ash blonde hair back. Looking into his eyes and admiring his uncovered, handsome features, you shoot him a sinful pout. “Ka— ah! Oh, Katsuki,” you gasp, your hands flying up to claw desperately at his muscular back.

Bakugou relishes in your lewd reply, eyes rolling back into his skull in delight. He lets out a gravely groan, increasing the tempo to a needy, impatient pace. The extra stimulation on your clit makes your legs shiver around him, your heels digging into the plush top of his ass. His hand slides back to grip around the back of your neck, leaning in to take the side of your ear between his teeth. His fingers on your throat press into your skin, his thumb pushed into your racing pulse. Hand squeezing just the right amount, it becomes pleasurably harder to breathe and you pant, tongue poking out as you wanton gaze meets his. “I’m gonna make you cum so hard Y/N,” he growls, almost snarling at you as your body bounces against his, watching your hair dance and shake around the erotic expression on your face.

“Eat shit,” your nose twitches in annoyance,” You’re gonna burst any minute now.” Your cheeks are dusted in a telling flush, your body feeling heat spread throughout. His hand tightens on your throat and you moan, loving the way your breath tears slightly.

“You’ve been clenched down on me this whole time,” he reasons, lips close enough so you can feel his ragged breath. “You can’t deny how your body reacts to me, even if you don’t want it to.”

You roll your eyes. Even buried between your legs at a time like this, he insists on pushing your buttons. “Oh, you want me to clench, Katsuki?” you inquire, tone confident in contrast to the wanton shake of your body. 

He shivers as his name leaves your sinful lips, and the breath in his lungs is sucked out of him as you clamp your pussy as tight as you can around him. His hips stutter and you revel in the lustful way his face contorts, his eyes screwing shut temporarily.

When his vermillion eyes open again, his predatory gaze adding wood to the fire between your legs. “Bad girl,” he admonishes, an unruly grin lifting the corners of his mouth. His hips slam against yours, railing into you at an unimaginable speed and harshness. “That’s a cute try, Princess, but you’re gonna cum before me no matter what.”

You can’t even respond as he thrusts into you, your pants ripping through the air and mingling with the quick slapping noise echoing through the room. You hate to let him win but you can’t hold yourself off from your impending orgasm, the pressure in your core multiplying at an alarming rate as each thrust deliciously stimulates your deepest, most secret place.

“Katsuki,” you whimper, your spine arching into his touch while his hand keeps its hold on your throat. “I’m so close, please,” you beg, your toes curling forcefully as your eyes roll back.

Bakugou smiles at your submissive tone, purring out, “That’s better.” His hand leaving your throat to rub his finger on your clit, your body trembles in his hands. He leans into you and his lips conquer yours passionately, tongue darting in between your lips to caress with yours. His tongue pulls back as he takes your bottom lip between his teeth, his wolfish stare daring you to follow his ensuing command. “Cum for me, Y/N.”

Your body tenses as you reach your climax, but Bakugou continues to assault your g-spot mercilessly. Your arms shake in euphoria, nails pressing in to form desperate scratches on his skin. It feels like he is snapping you in two, and you absolutely love it. Tears prick the corner of your eyes as you wail out, relief washing over your limbs feeling like ice cold lemonade on a torrid summer day.

Pussy fluttering around his cock so deliciously, Bakugou moans at the new intensity. He swears as he keeps going, despite his own orgasm approaching. The image of you squirming in ecstasy underneath him makes him gasp immodestly. His hands clasp down on your hips roughly, making it even easier for him to pound into your soaked cunt as his teeth release your reddened lip. “Fuck, you’re so fucking tight,” he huffs, sweat glistening on his built chest as he thrusts into you particularly hard. “So much better than I could’ve ever imagined, holy shit, Princess.” He moans a little loudly, not holding anything back anymore. He is so fucking close.

“Katsuki, please,” you sob, your g-spot still being pummeled relentlessly, never getting a break from his assault and dragging your orgasm out longer than you thought possible. “I want your cum on me so bad!”

Bakugou throws his chin into the air, harsh breaths floating out as the flesh of your hips turns white under his oppressive grip. He grunts as he pulls out, his searing streaks of cum spurting out forcefully, shooting up to lace over your tits and down your stomach. His thighs tremble as he snarls, his first immediately jerking his cock as more of his cum gushes out of the tip. He gasps for breath, and he groans as your lips press to his captivatingly. He leans into your kiss, savoring the feeling of your sweet lips against his.

You shift in his hands, the once-rough palms now sliding over your skin carefully, fondling your body as his lips nibble at your own. You entertain it for a moment, nails trailing down his chest, thumbs rubbing into the ample muscles beneath his skin.

He pulls back, a lazy grin and satisfied eyes regarding you. “Well, that was hot,” he admits, eyebrow quirking upwards as he tries to even his choppy breath. You pull a handful of tissues out of the box on the corner of your desk, handing him a few which he gladly wipes over his drenched member. You sigh in content, head leaning back as you regulate your own breathing.

Bakugou makes you jump in surprise as he runs a new tissue along your torso, cleaning up his mess. You eye him playfully, secretly relishing in the way he is so considerate. He shuffles back a step like he can feel you appreciating his uncharacteristically caring actions, tugging up his underwear and tucking himself in with a smug grin on his lips.

“It was pretty good,” you say casually, sliding off the desk and pausing as your still-tingling core shifts, making you realize how tender you already are.

Bakugou rolls his eyes, handing you your costume from the floor. You snatch it out of his grasp condescendingly, glaring at him as you step into the leotard with quivering legs. “Pretty good?” he barks, eyeing your slow movements. “You’re still shaking, Princess.”

You shoot a glare at him, arms slipping into your costume and tucking your breasts away from his lingering eyes. “Fuck you.”

“You just did.” He replies smugly, and you ponder relieving the sudden urge you have to slap the look off his face.

“Whatever, Boom-Boy,” you quip, zipping up the side of your suit.

Bakugou chortles as he pulls on his shirt, fastening the loops around his thighs. “By the way,” he looks sideways at you with a smirk. “You came first, so I won.”

“You were, like, ten seconds behind me,” you scoff.

“After you, nonetheless,” he almost chirps, savoring in the irritation visibly building in you. He slips on his gloves, sliding his arms into his grenade-looking arm pieces. “Do I get a prize, Princess?”

You glance at his suggestive crimson eyes, pondering the idea of it. “You can choose the place next time,” you wink at him, clipping the belt on your waist with finality.

He seems pleased with the answer, his smirk widening as he steps closer to you. Your fingers pinch the bottom of his mask, dragging the material down to its correct location over his eyes. He shamelessly allows his gaze to rove over your body, recalling how tight and needy you’d been just minutes ago.

“Next time, I’m gonna make you beg,” he warns, opening the door and slipping through, seductive gaze locking with yours. “Can’t wait ‘til then, Y/H/N.”

And after that, working together became a whole lot easier.

   ─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

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make sure to shoot me a comment/ask/reblog if you enjoyed ♥︎ I’d love to receive any feedback!!!

thank you so much for reading!! Happy Valentine’s Day sweethearts :)

➥ masterlist

𝐂𝐨𝐩𝐲𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 © 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐩𝐢 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟎. 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝.

[taelme]

Enemies-to-lovers!Bang Chan

request: Hey! Can i request and enemies to lovers slow burn with bang chan where they dont like each other but theres undeniable chemistry

genre: enemies-to-lovers!au, workplace/office!au, (fluff, slow burn, lots of denial of feelings lol) 

pairing/s: Chan / Reader (ft Seungmin and some ocs!) 

word count: 21k rip I got pretty carried away 

tw: not any prominent ones that I can think of, kind of hints of the whole misogyny in the workplace kind of thing 

a/n: I got super carried away writing this I hope you guys like it haha im currently working on the other requests so do look forward to those!! ill try to put them out as soon as I can~~ all this staying at home is really giving me time to write... ( I HAD TO use this gif I just HAD TO) but yes this was a little hard to find reasons why y/n wld hate chan bc im for the chan is an angel agenda but I ended up having so much fun ok BYE 

“Hey, you free to get lunch later?” You’d bumped into your friend who worked in the company’s legal department, Seungmin, on a Thursday morning while you were in the pantry preparing coffee and tidbits for your boss. 

You nodded, “uh-huh,” mixing the coffee absently, “what are you doing here?” 

Seungmin shrugged, leaning against the counter as he munched on a cookie, “felt like taking a walk. Things have been pretty busy in the legal department lately.” 

“Why?” 

Seungmin gave you a cheeky smile, shrugging, “can’t say, but you’ll find out soon enough.” 

You rolled your eyes, gritting your teeth with feigned menace towards him (his smile stayed unwavering, even sticking his tongue out at you to mock you).

“Who’s that for?” Seungmin gestured to the coffee mugs on the tray. 

“Mr Bang’s supposed to be meeting his nephew or something, he made it seem really important but all he told me was that it’s for his nephew,” you shrugged, glancing down at your two cups of coffee, realisation hitting you. 

“Shit, that just reminded me. He said his nephew doesn’t drink coffee. Do you want this?” You shot Seungmin a pleading look, holding up your now unneeded cup of coffee. 

Seungmin scoffed, taking the mug from you wordlessly, “how exciting your job is, huh,” he deadpanned, sipping the coffee, “wanna reconsider joining the legal department now?” 

You rolled your eyes. 

“I’m perfectly satisfied with my job now, thank you very much.” 

You’d prepared a pot of tea, careful not to spill the water onto the counter as you did so, transferring the pot onto your tray, “and plus, considering the amount of money I get paid for the amount of work I do, I’m more than happy.” 

Seungmin scoffed, “should’ve known it was because of the money.” 

“Alright, I’ve gotta go, see you later,” you said, picking up your tray as Seungmin waved his hand with cookie crumbs on his fingers, the clicking of your heels growing softer as you walked further away. 

Reaching the door of your boss’ office, you’d been able to faintly make out 2 silhouettes through the window from where you stood, composing yourself to make a good impression as you knocked on the door. Hearing your boss grunt, you’d pushed the door open with your shoulder, your gaze focused on the coffee table as you greeted your boss.

Setting the pot of tea on the table, you’d cast a glance at the recipient, your eyes widening when you’d spotted the boy with dyed hair sitting on the plush leather sofa facing your boss, dressed in a clean white button-down and tie, an equally well-ironed pair of pants, his posture relaxed with his legs spread casually. 

His gaze was on you, as if analysing your movements, making you direct your gaze back to your task at hand, setting the saucer with the cup of coffee onto the coffee table, placing the small biscuits your boss liked in the middle of the two. 

Holding the tray close to your chest, you cast a glance at your boss, about to bow in greeting and head back out when his voice had stopped you. 

“Y/N, please, stay here. I’d like to discuss something with you and my nephew.” 

Your eyebrows raised, lips pressed tightly together as you nodded, “oh…cool, alright.” 

“Please, take a seat,” Mr Bang gestured to the space on the sofa next to his nephew, making you seat yourself awkwardly on the other side of the sofa, your body pressing against the armrest as if trying to create as much distance as you could between him and you. 

“So, Chan, this is my secretary, Y/N,” Mr Bang gestured to you, “Y/N, this is my nephew, uh… Chris,” he spoke, the name sounding fairly familiar to you. Chris Bang? You sounded the name over in your head, not being able to connect the dots as to why it was so familiar at this point of time. 

“So, sweetheart, because I’ve been planning on resigning for a while now, I thought I should let you know that I’m planning on handing my position over to Chris.” 

Maybe this was what Seungmin was so busy with. 

You nodded slowly, trying to understand the implications this decision meant for you, “will my contract be terminated, then?” 

Chris glanced at you, as if searching your expression. He found you fairly younger than he’d expected, since his uncle had mentioned earlier that you’d already been working for him for quite some time, going onto 2 years already.

Of course, he didn’t want to underestimate you, but knowing the directors’ reputations regarding secretaries, he wasn’t sure if he could put a label on your abilities without seeing them for himself, first. And to him, he wasn’t quite understanding of why his uncle was so insistent that he needed a secretary, his past experiences with secretaries all being quite unimpressive. 

“That… is unfortunately up to Chris, but ideally your contract will resume as per normal.” 

You glanced back at the boy, who looked at you with an unreadable expression, something about his stare successfully unnerving you, the way he looked at you almost with a certain level of contempt. 

“We’ll be having a company dinner tonight to welcome Chris to the team, it would do the both of you well to get acquainted with each other before the board meeting for ceo elections.” 

You nodded slowly, still clutching the tray close to your chest as you wondered how old he was, the whole ordeal seeming as though it were something out of a movie: a young apathetic heir getting authority over a large corporation at such a young age. Was he even qualified for this position? The rest of the directors were nowhere near his age, well, appearance wise. 

As if having read your mind, your boss spoke, “I’m sure you two will get along just fine, considering you two are so close in age.” 

Your eyes narrowed, something in you not feeling comfortable with this arrangement. Dismissing the thought quickly, you shrugged, figuring it would be a change of scenery from being around the old directors all the time. 

You watched as Chris shrugged.

“We’ll see.” 

=== 

“Who?” Seungmin dabbed at his lips with his towel, picking up his glass of water to take a sip, making you frown, still trying to do your research on Chris Bang as far as your browser app would take you. 

“Chris Bang. He’s gonna take over the company from President Bang.” 

Your words seemed to have elicited a giggle from Seungmin, “doesn’t that make them both ‘President Bang’?”

Seungmin ignored your eye roll, continuing, “this was what I was referring to just now, you know. I thought you would’ve known who he was by now,” he told you, making you set your phone down on the table, open on his LinkedIn page that frankly wasn’t giving you much other than stating how very qualified he was for the job. 

“You know, Bang Chan? Ring a bell? That guy that’s been switching departments for God-knows-how-long since last year. The one that got all of us donuts one time,” Seungmin gave you a ‘duh’ look, considerably unamused. 

“Oh,” only then were you realising just who that was. You knew exactly who he was. You’d heard many rumours from the other secretaries on how he was impossibly good at anything he’d set his mind to, his work ethic and standard incomparable to anyone else in the company they’d ever seen. 

Which was why all that switching departments start to make sense to you, since it could’ve been his way of making sure he learnt the ins-and-outs of every department by the time he took over. If that wasn’t just more evidence that he was definitely a crazy workaholic.

At the time, you’d made a passing comment on how you hoped you would never have to be his subordinate, after having heard stories on how intimidating he was whenever it came to work (especially work that was improperly done). Little did you know that your comment would come back to bite you in the ass so soon. 

“Yeah, ‘oh,” Seungmin mimicked you, taking another bite out of his burger, “why d’you seem so…,” Seungmin made a pained groaning sound as he gestured to you for lack of a better word, “about it, anyway? Shouldn’t you be happy? He’s super nice!” 

You scrunched your nose up, locking your phone in your dismay, not wanting to see his face on his stupid profile mocking you with all his stupid qualifications anyway.

“I don’t know, just kind of feels a little sudden. And I hate the feeling of not knowing if I’m gonna be fired since it’s not up to Mr Bang anymore.” 

“Which one?” Seungmin joked, making you scoff, finding it just a little funny. Only a little. 

Seungmin continued, “you’re just mad because him taking over means you actually have to do work.” 

You shot him a glare, your silence being an acknowledgement that he wasn’t entirely wrong. 

“And because I love Mr Bang! He was such a nice old man that checked in on me and gave me life advice. I’m not gonna get any life advice from someone that’s basically my age.” 

Seungmin huffed in amusement, bringing his hand up to cup his mouth as if to divulge a secret, dropping his voice to a strained whisper, “transfer to the legal department.” 

You sighed, “no, I still love my pay.” 

“Then stop sulking! Chris is the nicest guy I’ve met, you’ll be fine. Just show up to the company dinner tonight and fluff him up a bit,” Seungmin shrugged, “it’ll be smooth sailing from then on.” 

=== 

You figured you should’ve tried to do a lot better to fluff Chris up during the company dinner, instead of just going over to grill the meat for the directors, under the instruction of President Bang. 

The action itself didn’t sit right with Chris, who didn’t understand why it was so imperative to the directors that you be the one to grill the meat until he realised just why they were keeping you there. 

His own uncle was oblivious of course, simply obliging at any chance he got to show off how capable you were (even if it was just grilling meat), however Chris was quick to notice the way they stared at you as you reached between them to grill the meat, your face feeling hot with the steam from the grill. 

“Y/N is very hardworking, graduated at the top of her class in college,” Mr Bang mentioned pointedly, making Chris’ eyebrows raise in surprise. 

“Really? What did you study?” He spoke, knowing very well you were listening, the other directors not paying any attention to learning your background as they prompted you to pour them a drink. You didn’t miss the way his words were accented, remembering hearing from Seungmin that he’d spent a large chunk of his life in Australia. 

Tipping the bottle, you’d answered (albeit a little preoccupied). 

“Law,” you sat back on your heels, “minored in journalism.” 

Chris frowned, not being able to understand why you would’ve chosen to work here as his uncle’s secretary of all things if you had pretty good prospects on your own. 

“How’d you end up working for my uncle, then?” He voiced, your attention diverted when you’d been prompted by a director to take a shot of your own, clinking your glass obnoxiously and leaving you with no choice, an embarrassed flush on your face. 

Taking the shot, you winced at the burn of the drink, glancing back at Chris, who was still looking at you curiously, wondering how you’d felt under the attention of the directors.  

“Did it as a temp job at first,” you told him, “but I guess I realised halfway that I don’t mind it so much, and it paid me pretty well.” 

Chris hummed, you ‘don’t mind’ this? 

One of the directors let out a grunt of distaste, “you shouldn’t worry about that, doll. The job of a secretary is to look pretty, the pride of the company is in its secretaries,” he said, clearly having already had one-too-many drinks, his words leaving an awful aftertaste on your tongue, his hand going over to grasp your shoulder, his hand going down to your arm and squeezing. 

“I always told her she’d do well as a housewife. That way she wouldn’t have to work and just mooch off her husband.” 

You mustered a smile, setting the bottle of drink down and bowing to them, Chris having lost his appetite at the way you’d just let their comments slide. 

“Maybe she prefers mooching off of the directors, instead,” Chris murmured, his sharp tongue getting the better of him, catching your attention as you were walking past him, making you stop in your tracks.  

Chris’ uncle tut his tongue, nudging the boy harshly, making him raise his hands in surrender. 

“What? Just speaking off of observation.” 

You turned around, a surge of confidence arising in you (from where? You weren’t sure, maybe it was the fact that in your eyes he was still what was standing in between you and your possible severance pay), “excuse me?” 

“I’m sorry, was there any untruth in what I said?” Chris turned, his gaze almost challenging you to speak out against the directors, not knowing that it was only serving to spur you on to speak out against him instead. 

 You scoffed, Chris standing up and awaiting your answer, a voice in you screaming at you not to be intimidated by him, especially with the way his head tilted down ever so slightly, his eyebrows raising expectantly. 

“Didn’t know they would just let any rude petty kid run any company these days,” you narrowed your eyes at him, folding your arms and straightening your posture. 

Seungmin, who was watching from his table with the legal team, grimaced, deeming Chris’ expression to be anything but friendly at the moment. 

“I don’t know, maybe it’s just a little unbelievable to me that I’m supposed to be answering to someone who just got the company handed to him,” your words were coming out faster than you could help it. I mean, you were probably going to get fired anyway, right? Might as well go down with a fight. 

“You don’t know anything about me,” Chris muttered, his voice firm, annoyance laced in his tone. Your words seemed to have triggered a spark in him, annoyed that you were doubting his abilities, blatantly disrespecting him even after knowing he could be your superior. 

Mr Bang had tapped Chris’ calf harshly, “enough, don’t keep y/n from eating.” 

Ignoring his words, Chris had stepped forward, staring you down as the tension had only thickened between the both of you. 

“But then, what would you know, right? What was that again? Right. What are you here for other than to look pretty, hmm?” He tilted his head at you, flashing you a smile that was practically dripping with sarcasm. 

You practically seethed with anger, your fists clenching as you unfolded your arms, your finger coming up to point at him, “you know what? I’d rather eat beansprouts for the rest of my life than work for you.” You scoffed. 

Chris' amused lilt to his smile was only serving to annoy you even more, making you storm over to your table with the other secretaries, all of them casting you looks of concern or shock that you would have confronted him like that. Picking up your jacket, you’d scoffed, casting him one last look before you left, not expecting to see him again afterwards. 

Well, that was the part you were very very wrong about. 

That night, you’d called your boyfriend over to submit him to a seemingly never-ending rant about Chris, getting a text from Seungmin halfway. 

“I mean, isn’t it good, then? That you can find another job?” Your boyfriend tried to reason, pressing a kiss to your neck as you straddled him where he was sitting leaning against your headboard. 

“That’s not the point,” you insisted, pausing to read the text that Seungmin had sent, oblivious to his urgent kisses trailing up to your jaw. 

seungmin (personal)  2:12am -consider yourself lucky. Spoke to Chan just now, make sure you show up to work tomorrow.- 

“The point is that, he’s arrogant. What? Telling me that I’m only here to look pretty?—“ 

“In his defence, you insulted him first.”��

You glared at your boyfriend, “Yeah, fine. But he provoked me first. And I don’t know, something about him just pisses me off,” you tried to reason, your boyfriend’s kisses beginning to distract you from your anger. 

“You know what, maybe you should just give him a shot. Maybe he’s not as bad as he seems?” 

And so you did as Seungmin had instructed, doing what you would’ve always done, grabbing your boss’ morning coffee before going to the office, ‘leisurely’ making your way upstairs as you tried to avoid any possible suit-clad blond-haired man. 

Upon reaching your desk, you’d set your things under your desk, opening your scheduler and doing a quick run through of Mr Bang’s schedule for the day, grabbing the coffee and knocking on the glass doors before entering. 

“Y/N! Just the person I wanted to see.” You nodded, walking over to place his coffee onto his table.

“You have the board meeting in half an hour, sir,” you informed him.  

“Right, thank you. Would you be a dear and be there to serve the refreshments?” 

You nodded, “yeah, sure.” 

“If all goes as planned, Chan- I mean, Chris, will be taking over from next week onwards. So this week will be the last week i’m here.” 

You frowned, “it’s a shame you’re retiring, you know,” your disappointment was evident in your tone.  

Mr Bang simply waved you off, “it’s about time, I’m sure little Chris will do a good job.” 

You’d kept your mouth shut, nodding as he stood up with his coffee cup in hand, looking at you with a smile, “shall we head down a little earlier, then?” 

You nodded, opening the door for him to exit and following him silently to the venue of the board meeting. You were surprised, to say the least, when you’d reached only to find Chris there already, currently in an animated conversation with one of the directors, smiling like you’d never seen before, dimples showing on his cheeks. 

Excusing yourself quickly, you’d gone to the pantry to prepare the drinks, your time here having made you familiar with the respective directors drink preferences. Carrying your tray carefully, you’d pushed the door open with your hip, seeing all the directors seated already, all seeming fairly comfortable around Chris, only serving to make the feeling of dread build in the pit of your stomach. 

Making your way around the table, you’d distributed the drinks to the directors personally, refusing to make eye contact with Chris as you gave him his stupid cup of tea. 

Once the meeting had started, you’d dismissed yourself outside the room, a part of you trying to listen in on the board meeting but not being able to hear much through the thick panelled glass. You were surprised when barely half an hour had passed and you’d heard applause in the room, peeping through the window to see Mr Bang give you a signal that you could come in. 

Pushing the door open carefully, you saw the directors practically lining up to congratulate Chris, leaving promptly after looking all-too satisfied with the outcome of the meeting. 

Mr Bang was speaking to Chris as the rest of the directors were leaving, “well, I guess this means my work here is as good as done. I’m sure your parents will be thrilled to hear the news,” he pat Chris on the back. 

You were about to head out with Mr Bang, eager to avoid Chris when you’d heard him speak, “Y/N, I’d like to speak with you for a moment. Is that alright?” He cast a look at his uncle, who waved him off. 

“Of course, she’s not my secretary anymore, remember?” You cast Mr Bang a look of distress, seeing him chuckle before giving you a thumbs up, exiting the room happily.  

You winced, turning around so you were facing Chris, seeing him walk over to where you were, holding out a thick bound stack of papers for you to take. 

“What’s this?” 

"A contract. You can pass it to me by the end of the day once you've made your decision. I trust that you're familiar with reading contracts?" he asked as you stared at the papers, flipping and scanning through the print, realising that his terms were considerably more demanding than his uncle. 

"You'll be able to find an additional attachment where I list what I would expect in a secretary. Feel free to consult me if you're unclear about any of them, though I don't think you would need to." 

Your eyes lingered on the section of the contract, stating that you would be on a year of probation, but that the contract could be terminated whenever he felt appropriate. 

"Whenever you deem appropriate?" you scoffed, looking up at him in disbelief. 

He smiled, "very pretty wording, don't you think?" 

"That's all I wanted to say. Remember, I'll expect your response by the end of the day." 

You stared blankly as he shrugged his jacket off, draping it on one arm. 

"Go ahead, what are you waiting for? You can go for your lunch break now," he urged, before his features pulled into a look of realisation, "oh, forgot. That is, unless you would rather eat...what was that again? Beansprouts?" 

Your mouth opened, making as if to retort before you shut your mouth quickly, your eyes widening as he walked over to you, his gaze intense and serious, a contrast to the demeanour he wore while chatting up the director previously. 

"I can handle myself, you know," you attempted to defend yourself, watching as Chris had shrugged. 

"You have one whole year to prove that to me." 

In that one year of working for Chris, you'd learnt a lot of things. Not only about your position as a secretary, but about Chris, ( not to mention, just exactly how spiteful he could be ).  

1. Sleep was a luxury. 

In your first week as his secretary, Chris had surprised you with the sheer rate of progress he was aiming, and moving at. It was as if all the rumours you'd heard before about his work ethic were a gross understatement of his tenacity. 

You'd been having trouble adjusting to his deadlines, especially since he had entrusted more tasks to you. From surprise presentations, to drafting up proposals and reports, not to mention submitting research to him. To you, it felt as if you were doing half the job for him. 

In short, you had never missed Mr Bang more than you did then. 

Of course, Seungmin being your voice of reason, would shut your rants down, claiming it was ‘about time you do your job’, but of course, you loved to complain. Especially since it was someone you didn't have very fond feelings for that was assigning you the work. You grew increasingly irritated in the time you were adjusting to your sleep schedule, which Chris, and your boyfriend had definitely noticed. 

Because of your changes in brain activity levels, you assumed (google could only diagnose so much), whenever sleep came to you, you welcomed it with open arms.  Since waking up had become even more of a chore to run over to the coffee shop and squeeze yourself between the crowd of working adults and panda-eyed college students to get his very specific breakfast order. 

You'd gone home from a birthday party of your boyfriend and your mutual friend, things having gotten a little...out of hand at your boyfriend's apartment since it'd been so long since you'd been able to spend time together, not with you always falling asleep during video calls or refusing them altogether for the sake of getting your work done. You'd missed him, and something about being apart made you miss his touch. 

Jolting awake, (as if your body had been able to tell that your sleep was too smooth), you'd instantly sensed that something was wrong when you saw the light streaming in from behind the curtains, knowing for a fact that you usually woke up when it was still a little dark out. 

Turning around, you'd fumbled for your phone on the bedside table, letting out a loud gasp when you saw the time. You were already a whole half-hour late. 

"Shit!" 

Your boyfriend startled, letting out a groan, his arm still lazily draped over your stomach. 

"Did my alarm ring?" you asked, shoving his hand off of you and groaning, slipping out of bed quickly as you put on your clothes from the day before, not having any more time to go back to your apartment and get a fresh change of clothes. 

"I don't know, I didn't hear anything," you heard your boyfriend mumble from where he lay. 

Cursing, you'd ran over to his bathroom, washing your face quickly, a gasp leaving your mouth as you inspected the angry marks on your neck through the mirror. 

"I hate you so much," you tugged up the collar of your turtleneck, successfully hiding the marks when you’d let your hair down. 

Grabbing your things, you'd sprinted downstairs, hailing the first cab you could see and heading to your office. 

Was he going to fire me? You were still on probation, so there was no reason he couldn't, right? 

You'd fixed your hair anxiously as you jogged into the lobby, your shoes clacking noisily against the floor as you ran into the lift, even debating on whether taking the stairs would have been a better idea as the lift went up at an achingly slow pace. 

Finally reaching your floor, you’d made your way to the meeting room, tossing your bags outside the door and entering with your laptop, notebook and pen, keeping your head down and avoiding Chris’ gaze as he was presenting to the room. 

Taking your seat at the only empty seat left, (unfortunately, closer to the front of the room), you’d let out a small sigh. Expecting to hear Chris comment on your tardiness or whatnot, you opened your laptop, picking up on the minutes where you could. 

Keeping your head down, you’d felt your colleague from the marketing team lean over to you as Chris had given everyone some time to analyse what he was showing on the screen, his lack of a comment making you even more anxious. 

“Your hair’s a mess,” she whispered, making you wince, your hand going up to comb your hair into a ponytail in your attempt to look neater, hearing your colleague gasp. 

“Dude! Put your hair back down, your neck,” she whispered, your eyes immediately darting to Chris’ direction, seeing that he was in fact staring at your jaw and neck as well, turning away quickly, the reddening of his ears giving him away.

Your hands let go of your hair as though you were burned, hearing your colleague snicker beside you, “I see someone had fun last night. Was that why you were late, too?” 

You shushed her as Chris cleared his throat, embarrassment flooding your senses as you continued to take minutes, hoping that he wouldn’t be as mad at you if you showed that you were trying your best. Fat chance, but hey, you could dream. 

Chris had started to assign things that he’d wanted the different departments to focus on for the project at hand, flashing a slide of deadlines that you watched people scramble to confirm with their existing information. You were secretly hoping someone would hold him back with a question so that he was too busy to confront you. 

Unfortunately for you, that wasn’t the case today. The meeting ended promptly, Chris leaving you in relative silence as you packed up your things, your colleagues giving you a look of sympathy as you followed him silently out of the room back to your desk. 

“In my office, please,” he murmured. 

You fiddled with your fingers, already anticipating for him to fire you. 

“Can you explain to me what happened this morning?” 

Your eyes widened, not daring to meet his gaze as it flickered between anything in the room other than him, “I uh..I didn’t um…I didn’t hear my alarm ring and nobody woke me up so I overslept.” 

Chris’ stare was unwavering, leaning against his desk and folding his arms, “so is it not your responsibility to make sure you show up to work on time?” 

“No, yeah of course it is—“ 

“Then I would like to see you be accountable for your mistakes,” he continued, “I’m not saying you can’t make mistakes, everybody makes mistakes. But if your mistake is what puts an entire room of people at an inconvenience, I would prefer if you were a little more apologetic about it.” 

You’d let a short period of silence fall between the both of you, “I’m sorry,” you mumbled, your gaze fixed firmly on his shoelace, “am I fired?” 

Chris let out a small sigh, shaking his head. “No, but, you know, if you ever let anything like this happen again, I won’t hesitate to fire you,” his voice was stern, annoyed almost. 

“And Y/N, if this,” you looked up at him watching him gesture to his neck with his hand before gesturing back to you, making you cower, tugging your collar further up your neck, “is what’s the issue here. I’d suggest you start prioritising.” 

“Sorry. It won’t happen again, I swear,” you rushed to speak, bowing quickly before exiting the room as fast as you could, wanting to tear your hair out in both annoyance and embarrassment. 

You’d jumped when you heard the sound of your desk speaker, Chris’ voice sounding through the phone, “Is there a problem, Y/N?” 

Your eyes widened, rushing over to your desk phone, shaking your head as you pressed the button to reply, “no, no! Not at all. There was just a… a bug here.” 

Chris huffed, bringing his hand up to hide his amusement, watching you scramble to regain your composure. 

2. Chris was a workaholic 

It was seeing (and experiencing) all the late nights in the office and the erratic pattern of his emails on weekends that drew you to this conclusion. His routine of sleeping late and then proceeding to get up at ungodly hours to either get work done or give up on the idea of a smooth sleep, since you were aware that he tended to have trouble sleeping. Not to mention the way it seemed to you as if the top priority in his life was his work, wanting to do his best to get the company to where he wanted it to be. 

After a few months of working for him, it was very clear to you that your job entailed not only taking care of his work, but taking care of him. 

You were going over to the legal team's office to collect the binders Chan had left to them, seemingly needing one of them now, thankful to have spotted Seungmin along the way as he was leaving his desk. 

Shooting you a look of sympathy, he'd peeked his head out to glance at your area, noticing everyone else in your team had gone home already. 

"Working late again?" 

You were sure you looked horrible, with bags under your eyes and your complexion looking dull from lack of sleep, but well, you had to earn a living, right? 

You shot him a pointed look, "you know the rules, can't go home until the boss goes home," you heaved a pained sigh. 

"You know, I'm starting to wonder if he even has a social life," you thought out loud, earning an amused grunt from Seungmin. 

"I could say the same about you." You ignored his comment. 

"What d'you need?" he asked, though you were already making your way to his superior's desk, grabbing the file and leaving a post-it to say it was with Chris. 

"Nothing, just this." You let out a small grunt at the weight of the binder, your wrists aching from all the filing you'd done that morning and afternoon (you never did notice until now how inefficient Chris' uncle's document organization system was). 

"All the best," he gave you a thumbs up, earning a pitiful pout from you before you'd headed back to Chris' office. 

Knocking on his door, you'd heard him murmur for you to come in, pushing the heavy doors open with your shoulder as you shoved your way through the doors,  placing the binder onto the coffee table where he'd had his documents and laptop laid out haphazardly. 

Chan's hair was a mess, likely from running his hands through it as he worked, his tie discarded and the top few buttons of his shirt undone, looking at you with tired eyes. 

He was about to ask you for some water, but you'd seemed to have read his mind, walking over to the table near his desk and pouring him a glass of warm water from the flask. 

"I'm almost done with the filing, but I'll be outside so you can let me know if you need anything." 

You'd felt your pocket buzz with a notification, momentarily taking your attention away from Chris. 

Chris glanced at the files before looking back at you in thought, stopping you before you could exit the room, "actually, can you help me to write a report on this, I'll need this by tomorrow afternoon." 

Knowing Chris' deadlines, that meant he would've needed it by tomorrow morning, which left you no choice other than to start working on it now. 

Chris picked up a small file with a post-it note stuck onto the file, handing it to you. 

"The points are all there. I would've done it myself but by the looks of it this is gonna take a while more than I expected," he sighed, his hands on his hips as he stared at the pile of papers in front of him in disdain. 

Chris never would've admitted that he'd started preparing the post-it notes for you in case he wasn't able to complete his work in time, since he usually opted to write from his head, but he knew you worked better with structure. He'd only realised after starting to do it that it helped him draft the write-ups more concisely, so of course, the reason was always 'for his own convenience', never creating opportunities for you to think he actually tried accommodating to you. 

"This current arrangement is very un-environmentally friendly," you mumbled, staring at the papers as well. 

"I'll go get this done now," you gave him a nod, exiting his office as you pulled your phone from your pocket, the text from your boyfriend practically glaring at you, asking if you were able to meet that night. 

10:47pm - sorry, working late :( gotta work on a report due tomorrow morning - 

Biting back your disappointment at having to bail on your boyfriend again, you'd nodded resolutely, pulling up your delivery app to order food for Chris before you started on the report lest he start to get irritable because he was hungry. 

And lastly, the point you couldn't quite seem to wrap your head around, was that 

3. He was very nice, just...not so much to you. 

After the oversleeping incident from before, it was safe to say you'd never let a similar mistake repeat itself. You were constantly making sure you were alert and responsive to anything Chris could possibly throw to you (and he knew this too). 

The only downside Chris saw to this, was that it seemed as though your attitude towards the directors hadn't changed. Still swallowing their disgusting comments and serving them with a smile, even if they were looking everywhere but your face. It irked Chris. And it irked him even more that the only one you seemed to serve without a smile, was him. 

Unbeknownst to him, you'd shared the same sentiments. 

"Do you ever look at someone and wonder what is going on in their head?" you spoke. 

Seungmin snorted, "wait, are you talking about the meme or..." your lack of a response made Seungmin follow your gaze (or glare) to where Chris was seated at the other end of the table, giggling and smiling as he spoke with the other secretaries. 

"Ah," Seungmin nodded, understanding now why your spoon hadn't moved an inch from your bowl, your grip around it almost death-like. 

"What are you so mad about? He's not doing anything?" 

You shot Seungmin a pointed look, your voice lowering to a murmur, "can't you see it? With them he's all rainbows and unicorn shit but with me it's like just smiling would kill him." 

You heard the secretaries letting out giggles and impressed sounds at something Chris had just said, the sound itself enough to make you annoyed. 

Seungmin's eyebrows furrowed, looking at you in scepticism, "you know the secretaries are only being nice because they're interns, right? I heard from one of them that they're actually really scared of him." 

Seungmin brought his chopsticks to his mouth, taking a piece of food from your bowl that he knew you weren't going to eat anyway, "especially after they saw how he spoke to you during the meeting the other day,"

You scoffed, "good to know that I was the warning." 

Your phone buzzed, signalling a text from your boyfriend. Strangely enough, it'd been a while since you'd texted him, since you were busy with work and he was busy with school. 

Ignoring it initially, too distracted by Chris, it wasn't long before you saw his caller ID show up on the screen, getting Seungmin's attention. 

"I think you should answer that," he gestured, making you glance around the table in your hesitance, not knowing if it would be rude to just exit halfway. 

Picking up the phone-call, you'd turned your head, lowering your volume to a murmur, "hello?" 

"Hey, can we talk? I really need to tell you something." 

You winced, "is it urgent? I'm at a team dinner right now." 

Your boyfriend sighed, scoffing, "it really is always work with you, huh." 

"What's that supposed to mean?" 

You glanced at the table, standing up to excuse yourself. Chris's expression read confusion, eavesdropping on a secretary asking what happened, Seungmin replying that it was your boyfriend calling. 

You'd made your way outside the restaurant, Chris glancing in your direction and spotting you walk past the restaurant's windows, a part of him shaking off whatever curiosity that lingered in him as he focused on his conversation. After all, you did tell him you could handle yourself, right? 

Where you were, you'd moved to a quieter spot outside the restaurant, "okay, I can talk now. What's up?" 

You kicked at the ground absently as you awaited his reply. 

"Look, are you free to meet tonight? There's something I need to tell you." 

"Uh..." you glanced into the restaurant, making eye contact with Chris before looking away, "I've got to work later, though. I need to get some research done for this review that i'm behind on, I don't wanna meet you if i'm just gonna end up on my computer while you're there, you know?" 

Your boyfriend nodded, "you know, that's kind of what i wanted to talk to you about." 

"Oh," a feeling of dread was building in your stomach, recognising your boyfriend's tone to be the one he used whenever he was talking about something serious. 

The first time you heard it was when you witnessed him on a work phone-call, the second being how he spoke to your parents the first time they'd met, but this time, you had a feeling you knew what was coming. 

"Let's break up." 

You fell silent, not knowing how to respond to his words. 

"Is it, um.... is it because of my work?" You asked, a part of you not being able to come to terms with the fact that it could have been your fault, "because you know I can't do anything about that." 

Your boyfriend sighed, "I know. I'm just talking about how you've been so emotionally invested in your work you don't even have the energy to maintain this relationship." 

You frowned, "what, what do you want me to do, quit my job? Will that be better for you?" 

"Look, i've been seeing someone," he began. Your heart sank. 

"And i'd be lying if I said that wasn't part of the reason. But... it was only when I started seeing her that I realised... things between us just weren't the same as before." 

Your heart felt heavy, a part of you knowing that he was making it a lot easier to be mad at him by confessing what he did, but another part of you couldn't help but prompt him further. 

"When did it start?" 

"That doesn't matter-" 

You sighed, taking your lower lip between your teeth, "it's fine, I just wanna know." 

"Fine, it was about a month in from you working for your new boss." 

You nodded slowly, still trying to process his words. You weren't quite sure what came over you when you saw Chris exiting the restaurant, turning to face your direction and spotting you in the alley. But it was as if you were so mad at yourself, mad at him, mad at your boyfriend (or ex-boyfriend now), that you'd ended the call, shoving your phone into the pocket of your blazer before heading over to where Chris was. 

"You guys aren't going home?" you heard one of the secretaries ask as you and Chris had approached his car, his driver already sitting in the car and waiting. 

Chris shook his head with a smile, "nope, we're heading back to the office." 

You mustered a smile as you bid them goodbye, you guessed this was probably the best time to bury yourself in your work as a poor coping mechanism after a breakup, as far as movie breakups went.  

The car-ride was silent, despite the pinging of your phone, making you switch it to silent mode halfway, earning a curious look from Chris, though he didn't make to ask you about it. 

Upon reaching the office, the both of you had gone back into your clockwork routine, as you sat in his office working on your computer and scribbling down on your notebook the important details you wanted him to check. Chris found that your background in law and journalism made it a lot easier whenever it came to reading and condensing information, which had only allowed him to trust you more when it came to getting tasks like that done, saving him precious time he could spend working on other things. 

The buzzing of your phone was growing more frequent, though it was as if you were oblivious to it now as you typed away at your computer. 

"Right, can you help to postpone tomorrow afternoon's meeting, and help me to make a reservation at the steak place, 2 people." 

You hadn't made to move, pulling your phone out but having gotten distracted at the multitude of missed calls and texts just because your boyfriend wanted to 'make sure you were okay'. Please. 

"Hello? Can you hear me?" you heard Chris call, snapping you out of your daze as his gaze searched your expression, trying to read your emotions. 

"Sorry, can you repeat that? I didn't hear you." 

Chris sighed, his annoyance at your phone that had lit up with a call again getting the better of him, "you know I don't ask you to stay later just for you to waste my time, you know." 

Your gaze hardened. There it was, the side of Chris that you had the 'privilege' of being at the brunt of, nowhere near the smiley giggly Chris you witnessed at the restaurant just now. 

"I said I was sorry. What do you want me to do?" 

Chris huffed, his gaze darting to your phone as he spoke, "reservation for 2 people tomorrow afternoon, the steak place my mom likes. Postpone tomorrow afternoon's appointment with Director Lee." He told you slowly, his tone as if speaking to a young child, which only served to piss you off even more. 

"Who's calling you?" he asked. 

You shook your head in dismissal, "my...uh..." you weren't sure how to respond, watching dumbly as he made his way to where you were, lifting your phone to read the contact before letting out a huff. 

"Okay, well you can tell your boyfriend that if you're gonna be this distracted at work, you can kiss your night goodbye." 

You inhaled deeply, absolutely upset but knowing there wasn't much you could do about it. You loved your job, even though you hated to admit it. Ever since Chris came in, you were getting a lot more work experience and exposure, especially with how he would make it mandatory for you to attend certain language courses that would help him whenever you accompanied him on networking events or business galas. 

And in that moment, you couldn't help but think back to what he'd said the first time he'd scolded you when he'd told you to figure out your priorities. Maybe your boyfriend called you at the right time, maybe you just weren't ready to focus on things other than your career at this point of time. 

Turning your phone off, you'd made sure Chris saw that it was off, raising your hands up in surrender, "done. I'll book your stupid reservation now." You stalked out before Chris could chime in with a 'watch your tone'. 

=== 

You'd been working for Chris for what was coming to 2 years now. The company had been reaping the results of their hard work for a while now, and you were thankful that even though you weren't as busy as before, you still managed to keep your job. Other than the fact that Chris’ hair was now back to dark brown, not much else had changed. 

Although, one tiny change you were starting to wish for was that Chris would at least try to make things a little more bearable for you. 

You were currently at a meeting with the directors where Chris was presenting the overview of the company's performance in the past month. You would have to say you were pretty satisfied with the work you'd both done on that, working a lot more efficiently now compared to when you'd first started out. 

Your silent admiration of the presentation was interrupted when one of the directors summoned you over to ask for a cup of coffee.

Doing as you were told ( much to Chris' dismay ), you'd gone and come back in record time with his hot cup of coffee, bending down and making your way to where the director sat, not wanting to prevent any of them from seeing what Chris was presenting. 

While he was presenting, it didn't take Chris very long to realise why the director had kept asking you for things, your position from where you were squatting next to him making it all-too-easy for him to ogle at you without you noticing. 

For some reason, this seemed to have gotten on Chris' nerves, especially because that director's secretary was simply minding her own business at the back of the room. 

Did Chris think what you were wearing that day was nice? He'd say he didn't but of course he did. But unlike the director, he preferred not to be so blatant about it, especially because you were always so rude towards him. 

You'd tensed momentarily when the director had grabbed your arm, about to get up when you heard Chris' voice get louder. 

"Y/N, I'd appreciate if you would stop distracting the directors and go back to your seat." 

(Later on, Seungmin would be struggling to hold back his laughter in the printing room when Chan told him to tell you to button up your blouse a little more. 

“Why can’t you just tell her yourself?” 

Chan scoffed, “knowing her, she’s just gonna think I was looking at her… chest or something.” 

Seungmin narrowed his eyes at Chan teasingly, “well, were you?” 

Chan waved him off with a groan, “just tell her, okay? The directors are having a field day with her looking like that.”)

You'd almost scoffed at the way the director had immediately let go of you, and you straightened up quickly, heading back to sit with the other secretaries. 

"That was harsh," you heard one of the secretaries murmur to you, making you shrug. 

"Whatever, not like I expected more from him anyway." 

(You did, you totally did. You'd kill for him to be less grating with his words). 

After the meeting, you'd felt a phone ring in your bag, pulling it out to see that Chris' mom was calling, obviously not having been able to reach him. Making your way to where he was, you'd interrupted his packing of his things. 

"Your mom is calling you," you'd told him out of habit, holding his phone out for him to take, jumping slightly when you'd heard one of the directors let out a dismayed grunt. 

"Is that any way to talk to your boss?" 

Your eyes widened, Chris seeming to be enjoying the situation play out before him as you regained your composure, looking back at Chris with a sickly sweet smile on your face. In front of the directors, you couldn't act up like how you usually did when it was just the both of you, so you had no choice but to be all smiles

"President Bang, your mother is calling you," you told him, and if you were annoyed, you didn't show it, having years of practice from dealing with the directors. 

"uh-huh," Chris smirked, taking the phone from your hands and answering it as he gestured for you to help him gather his papers. 

"No, mom. I’ve told you already, i’m really fine with how things are now. I'm not going on another one." 

Not that you cared, but you had to admit you were kind of curious as to what he was so insistently refusing.

"Yes, okay, bye," he hung up, handing the phone back to you. 

You'd tried your best to suppress your curiosity, seeing as he was about to be late for his next meeting with one of his friends if he hadn't hurried. 

Fixing your blouse, you'd carried your laptop in your arm as you walked with him back to his office, with you going into the lift first, Chris having chosen the wrong time to step in as a girl you recognised as one of the interns had done so too, the number of people squeezing into the lift causing her to jerk her arm, her coffee landing unceremoniously on Chris’ tie and shirt. 

Chris let out a hiss at the temperature of the liquid, eliciting a long string of apologies from the girl. You knew that if it was you that had spilled the coffee, he would be going on and on about carelessness now, but the intern obviously wasn’t you, and so you watched in envy as Chris had given her a smile, dismissing her apologies quickly. 

“It’s fine, really. I just hope you still have some coffee left to drink,” he laughed. 

Not only was he not upset, but he was joking with her too? 

You scoffed, rolling your shoulders back as you’d watched the numbers on the elevator rise till it reached your floor, the girl looking scared for her life when you’d cast her a look, bowing to you apologetically. 

“Where did you keep the spare change of clothes?” Chris asked as he’d begun loosening his tie. 

You hadn’t responded as he let you walk before him into his office, making your way over to one of the cupboards at the side of the room and opening it, pulling out a hanger with a nicely ironed set of work clothes. 

“You can go and get changed, I’ll wait here,” you murmured, Chris walking over to where you were and giving you his stained tie. 

God, you hoped his dry-cleaning run wouldn’t make you late for your lunch appointment. 

Looking at his tie, you brought it up closer to your face to inspect the material, it was a well-made tie, you had to say. Not too skinny, the material feeling almost luxurious in your hold, tempting you to put it on in your boredom. 

Hanging it round your neck, you mustered your best ‘Chris accent’.

“You should be accountable for your mistakes! Don’t you know how many people you’re inconveniencing? Now I have a tie that reeks of coffee, look,” you held up the tie with a gasp, “and my secretary’s gonna be late for her lunch meeting!” You pointed accusatorially at the small black penholder that sat on his desk. 

“Yeah! Do you know how much you’re inconveniencing me? I don’t ask you to show up to work to waste my time—“ 

You’d stopped in your tracks when you heard Chris clearing his throat, grimacing as you tried to regain your composure, taking off the tie as quickly as you could, holding it tightly in your palm as you turned to face him. 

“Having fun?” 

“No,” you shot back quickly, not even wanting to ask how long he’d been standing there. 

Walking over to you, he’d handed you his stained shirt, his expression like that of a parent that had caught their kid doing something they weren’t supposed to be doing. 

“You know, sometimes I wish you’d talk back to the directors like how you talk back to me.” 

Your eyes widened, confused at his sudden comment, but not having the time to respond as Chris continued. 

“Get these dry-cleaned over lunch. The stain’ll be harder to get out the longer you wait.” 

You huffed, already walking away from him, “well, when you say it like that I’d might as well go do it now.” 

You'd been keeping yourself busy with replying emails when you heard the elevator ding, the sound of footsteps getting louder before you saw a considerably young, suit-clad man walking towards your desk. 

"I'm here to see Chris? I'm Director Kang," he told you, though you didn't need him to introduce himself, knowing very well who he was. 

"He's in there," you held a finger up to signal him to wait as you picked up your desk telephone, pressing a button to page Chris. 

"Director Kang's here to see you." 

"Okay, send him in."

Chris closed the work he was doing on his desktop, making his way over to the leather couches as he saw his friend enter the room. 

"Yo, when were you planning on telling me about your hot secretary?" 

Chris' eyebrows raised, "didn't think that was something worth mentioning."

"Well, why not?" his friend frowned, his features pulling into one of shock, "wait, don't tell me... you guys are dating?" 

Chris rolled his eyes, "no, we're not. And please, for both our sakes, don't try anything funny with her." 

The director was about to respond, interrupted by your knocking on the door, the door opening slightly so you could enter. 

"Can I get you anything? Like a drink? Coffee? Tea?" you asked. 

The director simply looked at you curiously, sitting with his ankle resting on his other knee, "only if you'd care to join me." 

Chris glared at his friend, shutting him up quickly before he could say anything more, "coffee for him, I don't want a drink."

You nodded, exiting quickly.

"What did you come to tell me about?" 

"Must I have a reason to come and visit my beloved friend?" 

Chris rolled his eyes, "my time is precious." 

This made the director scoff, "is that your excuse now? Anyway, I came to ask if you were going for Brian's wedding next weekend." 

"Oh, yeah, right. He asked me about it last night and I said I would go, you?" 

Director Kang rolled his eyes, "can't, I've got a business trip that weekend." 

Chris hummed in acknowledgement, "that reminds me. I should get a gift for them soon. Who'd he say he was marrying again?" 

"This girl he met at work, she's nice. But, you know, not my type." 

As if that wasn't enough, Director Kang continued, "anyway, are you bringing a date?" 

He was interrupted once again by the sound of your knocking, the door opening as you made your way over to them, bending to place the cup of coffee down onto the table, making Director Kang gesture to you with his head, mouthing 'you should bring her'. 

Waving him off, Chris was eager to get Director Kang’s attention away from you, almost as if wanting to protect you from getting swayed by him, knowing the outcome was never too bright. 

"Y/N, you can go for an early lunch break today." 

Your eyebrows raised, the prospect seeming almost too good to be true. Since when was he so nice? 

"Huh? But I still have some stuff to hand the legal team..." you sounded unsure, though you did consider this to be luck since you were supposed to meet one of your friends from college for lunch today. 

Chris gave you a stern look, waving you off, making you raise your hands in surrender. 

“Okay, okay, I’ll go.” 

On your way out, you’d texted your friend that you were gonna be able to meet earlier, pleasantly surprised when she’d told you she was already in the area and that she was able to head over now. 

You’d managed to drop off Chris’ clothes for dry-cleaning before heading to the restaurant, spotting your friend already seated at your table. 

“Hey! Wow, you look great!” She told you, giving you a hug in greeting. 

“Feel a lot better compared to last year,” you joked, making her frown. 

“Your boss still giving you trouble?” 

Shrugging, you’d taken a seat, “nothing out of the ordinary. Seems like it’s part of his daily routine to annoy me.” 

She laughed, “I ordered our food already, if you don’t mind.” 

Shaking your head, you waved in dismissal, “no, yeah, I don’t mind. Thanks. Anyway, you look pretty good yourself, how’ve you been?” 

You didn’t miss the way she’d leaned closer to you, tucking her hair behind her ear in a pointed gesture, drawing your attention to the large gemstone on her ring. 

Your eyes widened, “no way.” 

She nodded, “I wanted to tell you sooner but you were so busy! I was glad enough I managed to squeeze in this lunch with you,” she told you, making you pout. 

“When’s the wedding?” You asked. 

“Next week. We’re going to have it in this beautiful church out of town, really really nice place,” she told you, “really romantic, too,” she added as an afterthought. 

You let out a deep sigh, “I hope you’re not going where I think you’re going with this.” 

She gave you a scandalised look, pausing as the waiter had come to deliver your food, “first of all, Brian has a lot of good-looking friends!” 

You gave her a look, prompting her to continue, “well, not that I’ve seen all of them but he tells me that a lot of them are single! And you know who else is single…” she pointed her finger towards you with an overly excited glint to her grin. 

“We’ve been through this a million times, Eujin. I’ve tried but it’s really hard to find a guy that’s willing to cope with… you know, my kind of schedule,” you gave her a tired (wistful) sigh, “and with my schedule, I doubt I have the time, not to mention the energy to date.” 

Eujin’s lips twisted into a frown, “but it’s been so long! Don’t you want to get back in the dating scene?” 

You scoffed, cutting into your food harshly before taking a bite. 

“Of course I do. But the last time I went on a date the guy basically shat on me for being a workaholic,” you huffed, “I mean, my boss’ working hours means my working hours, shouldn’t they just shit on him instead? Why is it my fault that he’s basically destroyed what I have left of a social life.” 

Eujin shot you a look of sympathy, “I’d say I pitied you, but it’s not like you can’t get a job anywhere else, you know?” 

You’d kept your mouth shut at that, “I know… it just… I can’t just leave when I’ve already gotten so used to how things work here.” 

Of course that was one reason, but you would never admit that there was a nagging inside of you that didn't trust Chris to look after himself if you weren't here, remembering how he'd overworked himself during a crucial period after he took over the company, and you'd found him passed out on his desk when you showed up to work that day. 

You'd sort of made a silent promise that as much as you didn't like him, you still cared for him in a way. In the way a secretary would care for her boss, totally. 

You decided to change the topic, not wishing to talk about your hopeless love life at the moment. 

“What’s the program gonna be like?” 

Eujin’s eyes lit up, setting her cutlery down as she clasped her hands together, “Okay, so. The plan is for it to be a sort of weekend-long thing,” she told you, holding her finger up. 

“Firstly, on Thursday night we’ll have a little girls night type thing, and then Friday is the rehearsal dinner, Saturday will kind of be a little rest day and then Sunday is the actual wedding,” she said, now holding up four fingers to you. 

Your head was spinning at the (rather enticing) thought of taking basically 4 days off of work, before the dread settled in that you had to ask Chris for permission to take those days off. 

“I hope my boss will let me take time off…” you murmured, already rehearsing in your head possible ways on how you could tell him. 

Eujin gave you a resolute look, “you can do it! If he says no just let me know, I’ll go over to your fancy office and fight whoever he is myself.” 

=== 

“How many days?” 

Chris had asked at your desk as he prepared to leave to meet his mom for lunch since she’d happened to be in the business district. 

You fiddled with your pen anxiously, “uh..4 days? Technically 3 and a half. But 2 of those are weekends I just need you to make sure you just don’t bother me on that weekend it’s a really important weekend.” 

Chris narrowed his eyes at you, unsure why you were so insistent on him leaving that weekend alone, nodding slowly. 

Whatever, he figured, she’s just lucky I’m busy that weekend too. 

“Okay.” 

“I swear I’ll—wait, you’re okay with it?” 

Chris shrugged, straightening his tie, “yeah. I’ve got something on that weekend too.” 

You let out a surprised hum, “oh… cool. Thanks…Mr Bang,” you added as a force of habit, not wanting to risk getting scolded for ‘insubordination’ again just because you didn’t call him by his honorific. 

Chris huffed, leaving before you could see his ears reddening. 

Over lunch, Chris’ mom had been inspecting him carefully as he ate, as if the answer to her worries lay in every piece of sushi he ate. 

“Is there something you’re not telling me? Are you… gay?” She asked, continuing, “because if you are you know you can just tell me, instead of constantly upsetting the girls I try to set you up with.” 

Chris gave her a unamused look, “mom, I’ve told you a thousand times. I would really love to date, but it’s hard to find someone with a similar work ethic as myself, that can keep up with my… lifestyle and who really understands my needs, you know?” 

This made Chris’ mom perk up, “that’s it! Why don’t you just date your secretary!” 

Chris almost choked on his sushi, fumbling to grab his glass of water to calm himself down and compose himself. 

“What,” he spoke between coughs, “gave you that idea?” 

His mom looked at him in disbelief, “whatever you just said, you were basically describing her, no? And plus, we’ve heard a lot of wonderful things about her from your uncle.”

Chris couldn’t help but entertain the possibility in his head. It was true, you did work at a very efficient pace with him, not to mention how spending almost everyday in such close contact with him made you understand his own needs and wants even better than he did on occasions. Chris shook his head, that wasn’t possible, right? You looked as though you’d absolutely hated him half the time, he’d be expecting too much from you if he’d expected you to fall for him. 

Chris shook his head, dismissing the thought from both him and his mom’s minds quickly, “no, mom. I’m fine with how things are between us right now.” 

Chris had let you leave the office earlier on Thursday, (much to your surprise) allowing you to have ample time to pack your bags and get a cab to the destination, Eujin having taken the liberty and helped you book your hotel beforehand. 

Upon reaching, you’d texted Eujin saying you’d reached. 

eujin 6:54pm -yay!! Lets just chill in one of our rooms, we can discuss it in the chatgroup!!- 

Trust her to be excitable even about the smallest things. 

You saw an incoming text from Seungmin. 

seungmin (personal)  6:54pm -what where r u I went over to find u but both u and Chris weren’t here- 

6:55pm -im at a friends wedding, took the weekend off-

seungmin (personal)  6:55pm -wow finally using your employee perks nvm then have fun- 

You’d checked in, marvelling at the cozy yet elegant look of the hotel as you made your way through the lobby, letting the lift take you up to your hotel room floor. 

Changing into more comfortable clothes, you’d seen the group chat saying to gather in Eujin’s room, with mentions of ordering pizza. Considering this was your first weekend away from work in a very, long while, you were determined to make the most of it, heading over to Eujin’s room. 

You hadn’t expected to be welcomed as warmly as you were, hearing comments of ‘we were so happy you could make it!’ Or ‘thank God you could take time off!’, sharing the same sentiments as them as you’d let Eujin pull you onto the bed, the softness of the sheets and pillows instantly making a content sigh leave you. 

“I ordered room service,” Eujin sing-songed, gesturing to the Champagne bottles and whatnot on the tray next to the bed. 

“I’ll have one,” you raised your hand, earning a laugh from one of your friends. 

“Tired from work?”  

You let out a loud groan, nodding. This made Eujin nod gravely, “I swear, if I ever see your boss in real life, I’m gonna give him a piece of my mind.” 

You scoffed, “you don’t even know what he looks like.” You’d gratefully accepted the glass of champagne that was handed to you. "and plus, he's not that bad, other than the fact that he finds joy in pissing me off. He just works too hard in my opinion." 

You’d spent your time enjoying the once chance you could relax to your heart’s content without feeling dread at having to wake up early the following day, enjoying yourself as you leant against the headboard of the bed, listening to stories about how they’ve been and how all of them were either planning on getting engaged soon, were in long-term relationships or already married. 

“You guys make me wanna get married too,” you pouted, earning bouts of laughter from them. 

“You’d have to actually date to do that, you know,” they told you pointedly, making you sigh. 

“You’re basically married to your job, already,” your friend chimed in, making you laugh. 

“Seems like that, doesn’t it? I was super shocked he’d let me have the weekend off, usually he’d be swarming me with emails about now.” 

“I’m excited to see Brian’s friends tomorrow, maybe there’ll be someone that catches your eye,” Eujin told you, making you shrug. 

“Just out of curiosity, though, what are you looking for in a guy? You know, we could help you keep an eye out too.” 

You hummed, shrugging. 

“I’ve never really thought of a specific…criteria I guess. I guess I’d just like someone that’s kind, looks out for me, doesn't underestimate me...sort of has the same lifestyle as me? Since it’s honestly been really hard to find someone that doesn’t hate my schedule.” 

You'd almost scoffed at the way your brain had refused to picture anyone else other than Chris while you thought about it, figuring it was probably because he was the only guy you were in constant contact with. 

Eujin looked at you resolutely, “we’ll do our best,” she held up a fist in an action to cheer you on. 

You shrugged, You figured maybe going into this with an open mind would do you some good. 

You changed the topic, directing the focus back to Eujin, “whatever, let’s just have fun, it’s your big day soon, let’s just celebrate!”

===

At the rehearsal dinner, you had yet to arrive, since you’d spent a little longer getting ready, choosing to use your opportunity to dress up a little more, not having the luxury to do so during your usual work days. 

You had texted Eujin that you were on the way with some of the other bridesmaids, her attention directed elsewhere when her fiancé had called her over. 

“Hey, wanted you to meet some of my friends from law school.” 

While being introduced, Eujin couldn’t help but wonder if they were single, remembering your mentioned criteria from the night before. 

“Oh, so are you guys all working in the law sector now?” 

Her husband shook his head, “All of them, except Chan here. He’s the ceo of Bang Mobile Media company.” 

Eujin’s eyes widened, glancing at the brown-haired boy cautiously, as if sizing him up. Y/N worked in a mobile company too, right? If she was remembering this correctly. Was it mobile or broadcasting? 

“Oh, wow. That’s impressive.” 

Eujin had let them introduce themselves more, not being able to help but think that Chan was nice, friendly, and rich on top of that? 

“I don’t get it, how are you single? You’re basically the whole package!” She wondered out loud, making Chan flush, giggling as he shook his head. 

Her husband seemed to have begged to differ, “Chan is incorrigible when it comes to his love life.” 

Eujin raised her eyebrows in surprise, not having expected someone so good-looking to have such a fate, “really? Is there a reason behind that?” 

“He’d never dated much, even back when he was in Australia. He was always super dedicated to his work,” this had served to make Eujin even more positive about this guy’s prospects as a suitor for you. 

“Oh my god, you’re exactly like one of my friends, I should totally introduce her to you when she comes later.” 

“Hey, cut him some slack,” one of his friends had spoken up, “Chan can’t cheat on his job.” 

Eujin felt her phone vibrate signalling a notification, pulling it out to see that you’d arrived already, excusing herself and practically running over to the entrance of the venue. “Chan, you stay put, I have just the perfect girl to introduce you to!” 

“Y/N! You have to come quick, I think I found the perfect guy for you.” 

Your eyes widened, clutching onto the chain of your bag as you followed her into the room. 

“He’s really nice, and friendly, and he’s good-looking! Really cute dimples! And on top of that he’s loaded. I’m so excited for you to meet him.” 

Letting her drag you along, you’d distracted yourself with the atmosphere of the area, wondering just how much it would cost to book a venue like this, tugging down your dress that was hiking up from practically running after Eujin. 

“Hey, I have someone I’d like you to meet. Chan, this is Y/N,” Eujin chirped, the names causing the both of your heads to shoot up, locking eyes with each other as a feeling of doom built in the pit of your stomach. 

Your eyes widened in panic, glancing down at your attire, back to him, who was dressed in a flowy black shirt that you were sure cost more than your one week’s pay, the top few buttons of his shirt undone to reveal a simple silver necklace, and fitted black pants, your gaze landing on the small silver rings on his ears, almost feeling as though you were looking at a different person. 

Chris thought so too, seeming to have the same panic as you as he tried not to let his gaze linger too long on your dress, nodding his head at you in greeting, “nice to uh…meet you.” 

His ears had felt hot as you nodded back at him, almost startling when Eujin had cheered, leaning over to whisper to you, “I’ll make sure you guys get to sit next to each other.” 

You were about to protest when she’d left, leaving you standing at the bar with Chris. 

“So, Y/N, how do you know the bride to be?” 

You gulped, wanting to slap yourself for how your gaze had kept returning to Chris, unable to shake the feeling of needing to be in work-mode now with his presence before you. 

“Oh, uh, we were friends since college,” you answered simply. 

“Cool, did you guys have the same major?” Chris had to stop himself from glaring at his friend, a strange feeling inside of him as he recognised the look on his friend’s face and his posture to be that which he used whenever he was interested in a girl. 

You shook your head, “uh, not quite. I majored in law but she majored in journalism.” You tried to respond as calmly as you could, not being able to shake Chris’ gaze off of you, feeling as though at any moment he was going to call you out for something you weren’t even aware of.

You saw the guy practically light up at the mention of law. 

“Woah, that’s really coincidental. All of us met in law school,” he gestured to the group of them, making you laugh nervously. 

“Where are you guys um… dates?” You asked, immediately regretting the question when you saw the way Chris was practically glaring at you. 

You didn’t understand why he was glaring at you, wasn’t it a valid question? 

“We didn’t bring dates, unfortunately. Did you?” 

You shook your head, making Chris snort. “Does it look like she brought a date? She literally came in alone.” 

You narrowed your eyes at him, unsure where his spitefulness was coming from, especially when his friend was just trying to make conversation with you. 

You scoffed, folding your arms. “Yeah, pity. Maybe I’d have time to date if I wasn’t always so busy running around doing shit for my boss,” you cast a pointed glance at him, bringing a hand up to nonchalantly run it through your hair. 

Chris smirked, two could play at this game.

“Same here, I’d probably have the time to date too if my secretary wasn’t always causing trouble.” 

“Your secretary?” His friend spoke up, “I heard from someone she was pretty cute, and nice too.” 

You’d almost wanted to agree, realising that if you did it would put you in a pretty compromising position, simply acting surprised. 

“If I had a secretary like that, I’d just date her,” one of his friends had spoken up, making your eyes widen, wracking your brain for possible responses. 

“Who knows, are you a workaholic?” You asked pointedly, earning amused grunts and laughs from his friends, “ah… it’d be too bad if I was your secretary, then. I absolutely can’t stand dating workaholics.” 

Chris narrowed his eyes at you, the both of you knowing you were just as bad at him, replying calmly, “oh, you can’t stand dating workaholics? Me neither.” 

You were thankful that Eujin had given you a small break when she'd invited everyone to take their seats so dinner could be served, wincing when you'd ended up sitting next to Chris out of habit, momentarily forgetting that you weren't attending a networking session. 

You'd hoped and prayed that you wouldn't slip up more than you already did. As much as you'd wanted to spite him, he was still your boss, and you knew he'd give you an earful for even the slightest hint of disrespect ( which you were sure you'd surpassed already ). 

Focusing on the gorgeous food they'd served you, you saw the waiter pick up the bottle of wine, pouring it for you. 

Having been oblivious, the waiter was about to pour a glass for Chris as well, making your secretary-instincts kick in, your arm darting across Chris to stop the waiter in time. 

"No, Mr Bang, you shouldn't drink that." 

Chris would have looked fairly amused if he wasn't stressed out by your proximity, with you practically leaning over him to speak to the waiter. 

You'd cursed internally, wincing at the way Chan's friend had looked at you, tilting his head in confusion. 

"Mr Bang? And how do you know his alcohol preference?" 

Chris let out a nervous giggle as you straightened up, "uh...well um like...you know it's a really funny story actually... we're um..." 

Not being able to bear his awkward fumbling any longer, you'd butt in, "We work in the same company. Yeah." 

You were lucky his friend had bought it, simply nodding in understanding, "no wonder, you guys were being so weird just now." 

Chris scoffed, "what weird?" 

You turned around in your chair, pretending to pick up your bag, "stop, you're making it worse," you murmured so he could hear you, making him bring his glass of water to his lips. 

One of your girl friends had spoken up, halfway through the meal, "wait, i just realised. If you guys work in the same office, then you must know her boss right? That dude is crazy. We all thought it was a miracle that she could take time off for the wedding," 

You glared at your friend, trying to subtly shake your head in your attempt to stop her, but she was oblivious, "she doesn't like it when we badmouth him but it's true! Ever since she started working for him it's like her social life just disappeared. Her boss is always her first priority." 

You'd never related more to how people said they wished the ground would swallow you whole. Looking down at your food, you'd tried to remain nonchalant about it, but Chris who was next to you was looking at your friend with wide eyes. 

"Oh, really? What else does she say about him?" 

You laughed nervously, waving your hands in dismissal, "nothing that concerns you."

Chris turned to you, dropping his volume to a murmur, "is that so? because i'm hearing all this and i'm getting the feeling it definitely concerns me." 

You let out a huff of anxious laughter, bringing your glass to your lips, consuming your drink in sips because your boss was sitting next to you, but secretly wishing you could down it all in one go. 

Soon enough, all your anxious sipping had made you reach an empty glass, the waiter coming over to refill it for you, earning an eyebrow raise from Chris. 

"Leave me alone," you huffed. 

Chris simply laughed, "what? I didn't say anything." 

You'd tried to pay attention to the proceedings of the wedding rehearsal, and after dessert was served people had started to mingle around more, the drinks having started to kick in as you'd felt a lot more relaxed. 

It was safe to say Eujin was as well, going around to talk to the guests and thank them for coming out of town for the celebrations. 

Soon enough, you were almost done with your fourth glass, oblivious to the way Chris was looking at you, impressed yet concerned. Feeling skinny arms drape over your shoulders, you turned your head to see none other than Eujin, cooing at you affectionately. 

"Tell your boss a huge thank you for letting you have this weekend. I couldn't even get to see you on my birthday or for the engagement party, but i'm so so glad you're here now." 

You couldn't help but glance at Chris, knowing that you'd missed both of those events because you were helping him with something. The first being when he'd almost overworked himself enough to warrant a visit to the hospital since he hadn't been sleeping or eating well (after that, you swore you'd make sure this man was getting his three meals if you could help it), and the second time being when you had to accompany him to a keynote session out of town. 

You were starting to think maybe there was a little more to unpack behind your reasons why you stayed working for Chris Bang. Your only consolation at this point of time being that the rehearsal dinner was ending soon, meaning that you could finally escape the suffocating tension you were feeling. 

"Wanna hitch a ride back together? I drove here." 

You'd almost declined, feeling as if you didn't have a right to be in his car if it wasn't work-related. Chris had seemed to sense your hesitation, simply not waiting for a reply and walking off, hoping his smile wasn't too obvious when he'd heard you jogging to meet his pace. 

He'd surprised you even more when he'd opened the passenger door for you, shutting it gently after you'd gotten in. 

You'd given in to the comfort of his car almost immediately, more-so when Chris had gone to take something from the boot of his car, getting into the driver's seat and draping the soft blanket over your lap. 

"The drive back's pretty long, might wanna make yourself comfortable." 

And you were comfortable, very comfortable. Chris had started to play some music from his playlist, something about his behaviour almost making you forget that he was the same boss that had worked you to the bone for over a year. 

"I'm sorry," you suddenly spoke, once you were in the city, "about what my friends said," you weren't sure where all your courage was coming from, maybe it was the many glasses of wine, but whatever it was, it was putting Chris in an awfully reflective mood. 

"And what I said," you added as an afterthought. 

Chris took his lower lip between his teeth, shaking his head, “nah, don’t worry about it.”

Obviously, that seemed too good to be true, and you’d looked over at his expression in your attempt to figure out if he was being sincere. He was definitely gonna fire you. 

“I’m not gonna fire you, if that’s what you’re thinking. I’m just kind of…like, you know, wondering,” he began, “the uh… engagement party and the birthday party that you um… you know, that you missed. Were they both because of me?” 

You pursed your lips, nodding, “but it wasn’t your fault, you know. The first one was when you’d passed out… you know, at the office, remember?” 

He nodded, prompting you to continue, “the next one was a keynote session that I had to follow you to.” 

Chris gulped, his throat feeling dry all of a sudden. This whole time he wouldn’t have guessed you’d been giving up these things for him from how willing you’d seemed to work. Was this considered neglecting the needs of my employee? Probably. But whatever it was, Chris knew that he was being harsh on you more for his own sake than yours, but he was only starting to realise now that that might not have been such a good tactic.

Chris was already pulling into the hotel, stopping at the valet services as you’d slung your bag over your shoulder, Chris coming out to open your door for you, making you grimace, feeling as though you should've been the one to open it for him. 

Walking into the hotel lobby, you'd glanced at your phone, seeing as Eujin had texted you tomorrow's plans, "did you get the schedule for tomorrow? I can forward it to you-" 

Chris let a giggle escape him, nodding, "you know they would've sent it to me too, right?" 

Your lips parted in realisation, nodding as you went over to press the lift button before he could even reach over to do so, "right, forgot." 

You were sure it was something about your intoxicated state that was making you instinctively go into work mode, whatever relaxation you thought you would be getting on this weekend now seeming all too far from reach. 

"Uh... I can check what time the hotel serves breakfast and arrange for something to be sent to your room if you want-" 

"Y/N," his tone was enough to make you straighten up, goosebumps rising on your skin for some reason. 

Chris was looking at you in amusement, one hand shoved into his pocket, "you're not working, remember? This is your rest weekend." 

Your eyebrows knit in a frown, chewing on your lip as you averted your gaze, "I know but it's just... like I didn't expect to see you here and now that you are I can't help but feel like I'm at work or something," you'd turned to wonder what was taking the elevator so long, watching as the numbers had gone lower and lower, completely skipping your floor and heading to the carpark. 

"You know what? How about this," he began, pausing momentarily when you heard the elevator ding, stepping inside the empty elevator and pushing your floor button, your heart almost stopping when he hadn't made to press any button. 

"You're on the 14th floor too?" He nodded. 

"Anyway, as I was saying. To make things easier for you, let's just pretend we don't know each other, that i'm not your boss, you're not my secretary. We're just... two people that met at a wedding? You don't have to do anything for me as long as we're here, hmm?" he offered, seeming to sense your hesitance 

"Look, I'll go first," he stretched his hand out as if to ask for a handshake, "hello, nice to meet you, i'm Chan." 

"Chan?" 

He nodded, "my friends call me Chan. People only call me Chris at work." 

You'd brought your hand up slowly, grasping his in yours, the cold metal of his rings against your skin more obvious when he'd given your hand a small squeeze. 

"Nice to meet you, Chan. I'm Y/N?" you tried, looking at him for approval and earning a nod from him, trying your best to ignore the way he was smiling. 

"Yes, that's your name," he laughed. 

Letting go of his hand, you were thankful the elevator had reached your floor without any interruptions, realising just how lucky you were to have not bumped into him earlier on as he'd continued walking with you to your room, gesturing to the door opposite your room with wide eyes. 

"My room's here." 

You made to take out your hotel room key, hearing him clear his throat, and you'd turned around rapidly to face him, strangely eager to know what he was about to say. 

"Say, Y/N, I'd love to, you know, get to know you more. What do you think about getting brunch with me tomorrow?” 

You opened and closed your mouth for lack of a response. This was inappropriate, right? But then again, you weren’t working this weekend. And technically, in this situation, Chan wasn’t your boss. So, there was nothing to lose. 

You nodded, “Yeah. That sounds…nice.” 

=== 

“Sounds kind of suspicious if you asked me,” you heard Seungmin’s voice over the speaker, making you sigh. You were already ready, lounging on your bed as if to mentally prepare yourself for a stupid lunch. 

“Right? I don’t know what he’s trying to get out of this.” 

Seungmin knew. But it’s not as if he was going to tell you, no, that was Chan’s job not his. Frankly, he’d had enough of listening to the both of you whine about your apparent personal vendetta against each other. He watched his fair share of movies, Seungmin knew how these things worked. 

“Maybe it’ll give you a chance to actually talk to each other like normal human beings instead of just bickering all the time for no reason.” 

“I have a reason, I’ll have you know.” 

Seungmin scoffed, “really? Enlighten me, then.”

You’d fumbled for a reason, stuttering in your failure to find something that validated your annoyance towards Chan. 

“I don’t know, his dimples are stupid.” 

Seungmin wanted to laugh, “so you’re telling me, you just can’t stand him because of his stupid dimples?” 

Your attention was diverted when you’d felt your phone vibrate, signalling an incoming text from Chan. 

boss  11:20am -meet u outside your hotel room in 10?- 

“Shit, he wants to meet me in 10 minutes.” 

Seungmin shrugged, “10 minutes is more than enough time for you to come up with a less shitty reason why you don’t like him. Or for you to realise that you don’t actually hate him.” 

You scoffed, burying your face into your sheets as you thought of a reason. 

“Okay, I’ve got it. I just don’t like how he treats everyone so nicely and then treats me like I’m some incompetent kid.” 

“You know for a fact he doesn’t think you’re incompetent. He literally trusts you more than he does the other staff.” 

You scoffed, “yeah, whatever. But that doesn’t change the fact that he’s so condescending about it, he thinks of me i’m some kid that doesn’t know anything.” 

Seungmin snorted, remembering the incident where Chan had asked him to tell you to button up your blouse after the directors behaviour during a meeting. 

“Oh, he definitely doesn’t see you as a kid,” Seungmin cackled, earning an eye roll from you.

Glancing at the time, you saw how it was almost 11:30, “okay, I gotta go. I’ll talk to you later.” 

Ending the call, you’d slung your small bag around your shoulder, giving one last glance at your appearance in the mirror in the bathroom before leaving your hotel room, startling when you’d spotted Chan there. 

Dressed in a black pullover and jeans, Chan smiled at you, bringing a hand up to touch his ear, “morning,” he greeted. 

“Good morning,” you huffed nervously.

He’d already begun walking, making you follow beside him, “did you get a good sleep?” 

His eyebrows raised at your question, nodding at you. His hair was curlier than usual, not styled up like you usually saw. “you?” 

You nodded, following him in silence as you’d gone down the list, realising he’d pressed the ground floor instead of where they were serving food on the 3rd floor. 

“You pressed the wrong floor,” you began, not expecting to see the pleading smile on his face.

“Actually, I was thinking of bringing you to this place nearby, I’ve been there before and it’s pretty good.” 

Your first thought was to wonder if it was expensive, knowing that this time you didn’t have the company card to fall back on. 

“Is it expensive?” You asked, seeing him shrug. 

“Not really.” 

Only when you’d reached the area did you realise how much of an understatement Chan made. The restaurant was a small cozy-looking place that served food that you’d only heard of up till now, located along a line of boutiques selling unusual trinkets and handmade items. 

Upon reaching, you and Chan had been led up upstairs to an outdoor seating area of the restaurant, the view of the scenery accompanied with the breeze instantly putting you in a relaxed mood. 

“Do you like it?” He asked, almost sounding nervous. 

Nodding reassuringly, you’d wanted to run away when you saw the way he’d walked over to where you were, pulling your chair out for you to sit on, making you flush. Never in your life would you have thought your boss would be pulling out your chair for you.

“You know, you don’t have to do that,” you told him, using the menu to hide your face from view, pulling it down slightly to watch how he’d rest his forearm on the table, scanning through the menu with a smirk on his face, his (stupid) dimples appearing on his cheeks. 

“I wanted to. You’d never let me do it for you on any other occasion.” 

You had to admit that there was some truth to what you were saying, choosing to change the subject by telling him you’d decided on what you wanted to eat, choosing something that was still within your budget for the weekend. 

Beckoning the waiter over, Chan pushed his sleeves up to his elbows as he ordered for the both of you, the waiter asking what drinks you would want, a teasing smile on Chan’s face when you’d insisted on water.

“What?” You scoffed, earning a shake of the head from him. 

“Nothing.” 

You’d leant back in your seat, about to tie your hair up into a ponytail, hearing the buzzing of your phone, reading the caller id to see that it was your mom trying to video call you. 

Sitting up quickly, you were about to excuse yourself when Chan had reached over, swiping to answer the call as he lifted the phone, pointing it towards you, his other hand beckoning for you to continue. 

“Hey, mom,” you spoke through gritted teeth, your rubber band between your teeth as you worked quickly to bunch your hair into a ponytail, Chan wanting to slap himself with how his ears had started to feel hot. 

“Hey, honey. Where are you? I called the office but they said you were on leave?” 

You secured your hair, taking the phone from Chan with a grateful murmur of ‘thanks’, making your mother’s eyes narrow, “who are you with?” 

“I’m attending Eujin’s wedding this weekend. I’m just uh…with a friend.” 

Chan looked away to clear his throat, catching your mom’s attention, “guy? I thought you told me you weren’t dating anyone.” 

This had caught Chan’s attention, having remembered Seungmin telling him that you’d broken up with your boyfriend. 

“No, yeah, mom it’s just a friend. Can I call you later?” 

Your mom’s eyebrows lifted, looking at you with a cheeky smile on her face, “oh, oh. Yes, of course you can. Have fun, baby.” 

You hung up quickly, shoving your phone back into your bag, looking up at Chan in question as to why he looked so surprised. 

“Your mom doesn’t know you have a boyfriend?” He asked, as if wanting that confirmation for himself, not feeling comfortable with pursuing his feelings if you were still in a relationship. 

You shook your head, “no uh…I broke up with my boyfriend a long time ago.” 

Chan’s lips pursed, nodding, “oh… sorry.” 

You shook your head, not being able to help a breathy laugh from leaving you, “don’t be. He was…it was for the best.” 

“D’you mind if I ask why? You don’t have to answer me if you don’t want to, I’m just kind of…curious.” 

You shrugged, not feeling as inclined to hide the information, since it was in the past now. 

“Nah he just… our schedules always clashed and I was always too tired by the end of the day to go out to find him and I guess it like, you know, sort of reached a point where I started prioritising my work and it didn’t work out.” 

Chan nodded slowly, the waiter coming over to serve you your food, “go ahead, you can start eating first.” 

You shook your head, insisting on waiting for his food to arrive before starting. “But I’m honestly fine now, it’s been more than a year since we broke up.” 

Chan huffed in amusement, “is that why you said you can’t stand dating workaholics?” 

Your giggles bubbled out of you, “honestly, I only said that to spite you. I’d much rather date someone that understands my schedule and reaches a compromise with me instead of just always expecting me to drop everything at their beck and call.” 

Chan nodded, “I get that. Yeah, work is important and all but… I feel like if you really loved someone you’d find any moment you could to be with them. Well, for me at least.” 

You laughed, “kind of hard, when we spend almost every waking moment with each other.” 

You’d looked up from your food when Chan hadn’t responded, the waiter finally coming over to serve his food, though his expression remained, looking at you as though he’d wanted to say something. 

“yeah,” he huffed eventually, starting to eat his food. 

You’d shocked yourself with how comfortable you were in his presence with the knowledge that you weren’t working. This was what you wanted, wasn’t it? To have Chris treat you nicely like how he did the other employees. Only now you were realising how easy it was to catch feelings for him just from this one change. 

Maybe you were kind of thankful he made it easier for you to hate him previously. 

It was true that you understood him better than most, and that he understood you as well, knowing what got on your nerves and what didn’t, how you worked and how you responded to things. Albeit there were a few things he still didn’t understand, you couldn’t deny that Chan was well-liked in the office for a reason, and you were beginning to experience that reason for yourself. 

Chris had been mulling over what his mother had told him about you, wondering if you were feeling the same tension that he was even as you talked about pointless things that made you wonder why you hadn’t talked about them sooner. 

Not that it was a bad kind of tension (or maybe it was), but it was akin to the feeling of knowing that you would both have to confront a realisation soon. 

“Are you doing anything tonight?” He asked as you were heading back to the car, earning a shrug from you. 

“My friends wanted to have some kind of girls night thing, you?” 

He sighed, nodding, “same, the guys and I are going out for drinks.” 

You shot him a look, “drinks?” 

He laughed, shaking his head, “I can hold my alcohol, I just choose not to drink.” 

Your eyes widened, “and I’m only finding this out now because? Do you remember when I had to drink your drinks for you during the first networking session because you lied to me and told me you couldn’t drink that!”

Chan flushed, “I wasn’t lying, technically. I really couldn’t drink that, I don’t like white wine.” 

You shot him a harmless glare, this time, letting him open the door for you as you got into the passenger’s seat. 

“Don’t drink too much tonight, yeah?” He gave you an amused huff as he started the engine of the car. 

“You too,” you held your pinky out for him to make a promise. 

Chan nodded, linking his pinky with yours as he leaned closer to you, “deal.” 

=== 

You’d heard the sound of beeping at your door that night, wondering what all the ruckus was all about, getting out of bed, taking your hotel room key and pausing the show you were watching on your phone, making your way over to your door carefully. 

“Why isn’t the card working?” You heard a tell-tale Australian accent muffled through the door, looking through the peephole to see a head of messy brown hair, looking as though Chan was leaning against the door. 

Opening the door slowly, you’d acted quickly to grab Chan by the shoulders to steady him before he could stumble forward, the confused boy holding up his hotel key and looking at you in confusion. 

“This isn’t my room?” 

You couldn’t help but laugh, turning him around as you’d ushered him a few steps forward to his hotel room door, “this,” you pointed at the door, “is your room, Chan.” 

He giggled, “you called me ‘Chan’.” 

Taking his hand, you scanned his hotel key, bringing him into his room, finding it awfully neat (unlike yours), smoothly guiding him to his bed and letting him flop onto it. 

Letting out a sigh, you couldn’t help but to feel rather endeared, seeing him open his eyes slowly to look at you, tilting his head. 

“Sorry, I promised I wouldn’t drink so much.” 

You shook your head, reaching over him to grab at his blanket, your movements ceasing abruptly when you’d felt his hand on your back as you hovered over him, his hand moving from your back to your head, patting it gently. 

Pulling the blanket up harshly in your panic to cover him, straightening up as quickly as you could. 

“Shut up, go to sleep. Goodnight,” you said, hurriedly exiting the hotel room and going back to your room, closing the door behind you and trying to calm your rapid heartbeat. 

The next time you’d seen him was at the hotel lobby, where you’d agreed to meet him so you could head to the wedding venue together. Chan had come down wearing a nice suit, something you were more used to seeing him in, his hair styled up in a familiar manner. 

Greeting each other, you’d both decided to pretend the night before hadn’t occurred. With you being one of the bridesmaids and Chan being one of the groomsmen, you were separated almost immediately upon reaching the venue, with him having to help his friend while you helped Eujin. 

“A little birdie told me you came together with Chan,” she sing-songed. 

You scoffed, “aren’t brides usually supposed to be freaking out by now?” 

“Don’t change the topic! So, did you guys hang out yesterday?” 

You shrugged, “yeah, I guess we did.” 

She narrowed her eyes at you, “so? Is there a verdict?” 

You went behind her to take her bouquet, handing it to her as you waved her off in dismissal. 

“Too early to tell,” you lied. 

“Stop avoiding the question! Or else I’ll just have to ask Chan myself,” she huffed sulkily, making your eyes widen. 

“No, don’t do that! Okay, fine. It’s good. He’s nice.” 

Even Eujin’s makeup artist was giving you a knowing look now, making you cower under their gaze. 

“Shut up, focus on your wedding, please.” 

You wished you could’ve done some focusing for yourself, with Chan’s friends nudging him when you’d gone to the back of the church to line up with the groomsmen, all of them seeming to have conspired to let you walk with Chan. 

“Why do you look more nervous than the bride?” He teased, holding his arm out for you to take, making you roll your eyes, bringing your hand up to grasp his arm. 

“You’re delusional.” 

Okay, maybe he wasn’t. You wished you could’ve taken your advice, having been distracted throughout almost the entire ceremony, your gaze constantly flickering over to Chan, and you were sure he’d noticed too, with the way he would smirk and avert his gaze to the floor in his attempt to stop himself from laughing. 

Shouldn’t he be the one that was nervous? He was the one that had shown up drunk at your hotel room. 

After the ceremony had ended and you were all done taking photos with the bride and groom, Chan had offered you a ride to the reception venue, and you’d accepted, not knowing that you would’ve had to squeeze in a car full of his friends too. 

Sitting at the passenger’s seat (thankfully), you’d prayed for the ride to be shorter as his friends had started to question you and Chan. 

“Is there something going on with you two?” 

“None of your business,” Chan sing-songed, only serving to spur his friends on even more, your eyes widening when you’d heard one of his friends murmur.

“Wait, but didn’t he say he had a thing for his secretary?” 

Your hand went up to cover your mouth as discreetly as you could, clutching the bag of your wedding gift for Eujin and her husband and looking out of the window in your attempt to keep your composure. 

Chan had seemed to share your sentiments, his eyes widening as he panicked behind the steering wheel, his mind racing with things he could possibly do to prevent you from hearing what his friends were so freely spouting.

“Oh, did he? Then there can’t be anything going on with her, right?” 

Chan had reached over to turn the volume of the music up, much to your fortune, not knowing if you would’ve been able to handle hearing them talk more about Chan’s love life. 

Eujin wasn’t kidding when she said that she’d make you and Chan sit next to each other, and you’d ended up at a table with Chan nearer to the front, with a few of your friends and their partners. Watching Eujin and her husband enter the hall, you’d been filled with excitement at how happy she had looked, clapping and cheering for them along with the rest of the guests. 

Once they were seated, Eujin and her husband had begun to make their own speeches, thanking the respective groups of people for coming, and you didn’t miss her pointed mention of how she hoped the guests would use this time to get to know each other as well. 

The way Eujin had done things was that dinner was served so that the guests could listen to the speeches and enjoy their meals at the same time, which you didn’t mind since you were absolutely starving. 

You didn’t miss the way Chan had been subtly looking out for you during the dinner, like how he would casually ask if you needed anything whenever he would get up to go to the bar, or how he’d brushed your hair behind your ear so it wouldn’t get into your food (not without a tut of his tongue), earning many surprised looks from your friends which he was oblivious to. 

You figured he was really making use of the ‘let’s pretend we don’t know each other’ thing as an excuse to be nice to you, not that you were complaining.  

You glanced at your phone, skimming over the texts that one of the intern secretaries had sent you to ask you for help, making your friend curious. 

“Is that your boss?” 

You shook your head, “nah it’s just one of the interns asking me for help with something,” you shrugged, setting your utensils down as you swiped into your email app, ready to clarify the problem for her, making Chan furrow his eyebrows in annoyance. 

Reaching over, he’d taken your phone from you, locking it and dropping it back into your bag, ignoring your look of confusion. 

“Hey, I was just gonna email her!” 

“They’re not supposed to be asking you to do things for them while you’re on leave. No working, this is your rest weekend.” 

You’d shut your mouth at that, deciding that it wouldn’t do you any well to go against him, wanting to pull your phone out to just read the emails but dropping your phone back when you saw the look he gave you daring you to continue. 

Your friend had seemed to be fairly amused by your exchange, shooting a look at Chan, “wow, now I’m really glad you’re here. You’re the only one so far that’s managed to stop her from checking on her work when she’s supposed to be resting.” 

You scoffed. Yeah, because the source of your work was sitting right next to you in a stupid suit. 

“Good to know,” he gave you a knowing smile, making you direct your attention back the waiters, seeing that they were serving desserts now. 

“Your friends make me sound like i’m a hard-ass,” he leaned closer to you to murmur, making you smile, nodding. 

“Well, they’re not entirely wrong,” you drawled, making Chan scoff, though not being able to help the laugh from leaving him. 

He nodded slowly, his expression looking fairly amused, “I’ll keep that in mind.” 

You wondered just for a moment if he was only being nice to you for the sake of his own conscience (though Seungmin would beg to differ). And by the late afternoon, you were already starting to feel drowsy from the afternoon weather, the skies darkening as though it were about to rain. Chan had figured it would be good to start heading back. 

After you’d bid goodbye to Eujin, who seemed more than eager for you to leave together with Chan, Chan had offered to drive a few of his friends back to the hotel together with you, and thankfully this time they hadn’t mentioned anything about his love life. 

“Tired?” Chan huffed with a smile, glancing at you momentarily before fixing his gaze back on the road. 

“Yeah,” you murmured, yawning. 

“You should get some sleep when you get back to the hotel.” 

You nodded, “you too.” 

Chan nodded patronisingly, earning a huff from you, too tired to bicker with him. something in him stirring at how he could’ve been acting like this with you a lot earlier if he wasn’t always masking his concern with rude phrasing. 

His mom sure was gonna be excited the next time he updates her. 

=== 

You hadn’t gotten as much of a rejuvenating sleep as you would’ve liked, reality having kicked in that you were back to work tomorrow, the feeling lingering unsettlingly in your chest as you tried to make the most of the rest of your night. Somehow, you’d found your way to the lounge in the hotel, though that didn’t help much in lessening your dread for tomorrow seeing as the only other people here were people working on their laptops.

You figured it was not so much of dreading work than dreading Chan’s change in personality once he went back to being your boss. 

Letting your head rest on the stiff cushion of the chair you were sitting on, you’d fiddled with your phone, texting Seungmin about what had happened today. 

You’d almost startled in your seat when you saw someone take a seat next to you, turning to see Chan, his tie long gone as his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, his hair already falling out of place as he simply looked at you. 

Raising your eyebrows in a silent question as to ask why he was here, he scoffed, looking away from you but failing to hide the reddening of his ears, “shut up, I just didn’t feel like sitting with a stranger.” 

You huffed in amusement, “did you take a nap?” 

Chan shook his head, “nah, just finished a conference call.” 

Your eyes widened, “wait, why didn’t you tell me? I was doing nothing this whole time—“ 

Chan shook his head in dismissal, “you were tired. I told you, this is your rest time, I’m not allowed to touch it.” 

You frowned, your mind racing with thoughts on how tomorrow could possibly go, looking at the carpet with a hint of a pout on your face, “yeah, and then tomorrow, everything goes back to normal.” 

Chan inhaled deeply, leaning back in his seat as he turned his head to look at you, his hands clasped and resting on his lap. 

“It doesn’t have to, you know… like…” he shrugged, “if you don’t want it to.” 

Your lips parted, unsure how to respond to the implications of his words, unsure how to even process his words. 

“It’d be… unprofessional for me to continue to act like… this towards my boss.” 

Chan raised an eyebrow at you, shrugging, looking at you with an unreadable expression. 

“I think I’m way past being professional already when it comes to you.” 

You’d sworn the air had felt thicker, something about the way the night mood had felt, or how the music in the lounge had succeeded in relaxing you, but something inside of you was telling you to just do it, to lean forward and kiss him. And probably promptly resign the next day out of embarrassment. 

You stood up quickly, “oh, I think my cab’s here, I have to go,” you lied blatantly, Chan not making any move to stop you, simply lifting a hand to wave you off with a tired smile on his face. 

“Go, go. See you at work tomorrow.” 

===

“Can’t we ask Y/N to ask him?” The secretaries and interns were currently huddled in the pantry, having gathered to discuss how great it would be to have a field day soon.

“But Y/N’s equally as scary as him!” One of the interns spoke up, making the secretaries hum thoughtfully. 

You’d stepped into the pantry, walking through the secretaries to retrieve a juice packet for Chan. 

“Hey, what’s up?” You asked, one of the secretaries turning to you with a resolute look on her face. 

“Y/N, do you think you could um… like, you know, ask President Bang if we could arrange for a team outing soon? Like a field day or something, just as a break for the staff. We haven’t had one in so long!” 

You tilted your head at them in amusement, “why don’t you guys just ask him? He’s in his office now, I can go tell him you guys wan—“ 

“No, no! It’s different, you’re the only one that can convince him. We tried last month but he’d just told us he’d think about it.” 

You shrugged, nodding, “alright, sure. I’ll go and ask him.” 

Making your way back to his office, you’d tried to ignore your nerves as you knocked on the door, opening it to reveal Chan who was on the phone, holding up a finger to you to signal you to wait. 

Walking over to him, you’d placed the juice packet on his desk in front of him, earning a smile and a grateful nod from him, before he’d switched back to a serious expression. 

“No, yes, of course. We would want nothing more than to ensure a… mutually beneficial agreement between our companies.” 

You didn’t have to ask to know who he was talking to. Chan had been trying to negotiate a deal with one of the shareholders, since they had been trying to propose to get Chan to merge with another prominent electronics company in the industry. 

You knew Chan was more than annoyed, but he had no choice but to be civil with the president of the company since they did have many shares in the company from the time his uncle was in charge. 

“Yes, we can discuss this more in person over lunch, how does that sound? Yep. Alright, bye.” Chan sighed, setting the phone down and leaning his palms on the table, supporting himself with a pained look on his face, looking up at you with a pout. 

“I really don’t like him.” 

Chan sighed, “same here.” 

“Anyway, I’m glad you came here, I kind of wanted to talk to you about something.” 

“What?” You asked, watching as he’d fiddled with the papers on his desk. 

“Uh… I won’t ask you to handle things outside of work for me anymore.” 

Your eyes widened, “is this because of what my friends said? Because I’m honestly fine it doesn’t matter,” you shook your head, seeing him scrunch his nose. 

“It may not matter to you but I’m personally not fine with it,” he pressed his lips together. “Really, I mean it. Whatever I ask you to help me with from here on is only gonna be work-related.” 

You nodded. Was he trying to distance himself from me? Was it because of the trip? 

Your lips pulled into a frown, nodding more to yourself than to him, “okay…uh anyway I wanted to ask you um… the secretaries were wondering if we could have like a field day or something soon? Like just as a small break for the staff?” 

Chan shot you a look, knowing they’d asked you to ask him. 

“Do you want that?” He asked, earning a nod from you. 

“Yeah, I guess. It’d be fun to just have a day for staff bonding and all…” 

Chan shrugged, “alright, tell them to go ahead and arrange it.” 

Your eyes widened, finding the exchange to have went a lot more smoother than expected. 

“Will you be needing me for anything else?” 

He looked at you as if in thought, taking his lower lip between his teeth and letting it go, shaking his head, “other than to help me book an appointment with President Kim, nothing else.” 

You nodded slowly, exiting the room. 

By only asking you for work-related things, you’d expected your work-load to decrease, but it seemed as though you were currently having the most uneventful day you’d ever had. Other than drafting proposals for the President of the electronics company, there wasn’t much on your plate. 

You’d figured you would’ve been a lot busier tending to Chan’s requests but the boy had barely come out of his office, the only times he did being to head to the washroom, barely casting a glance in your direction when he walked past you. 

As if that wasn’t strange enough, he’d even let you have a longer lunch break, much to Seungmin’s amusement. 

“Doesn’t being in the legal team sound a lot more enticing now? At least you’d be doing something there.” 

You rolled your eyes, “I still have quite a bit of research to do, so no thank you.” 

“Admit it, you’re only staying because you can’t bear to leave Chan.” 

You’d almost choked on your drink, patting your chest to regain your composure, “where the hell did you get that idea from?” 

Seungmin scoffed, “you act like you didn’t call me a thousand times during the trip to tell me about things he did.” 

You’d fallen silent at that, averting your gaze. 

“Whatever,” you scoffed. 

“Isn’t it misconduct, though? If I were to date him.” 

Seungmin shook his head with an amused snort leaving him, “what are we in, the stone ages? Go wild, literally nobody cares. They’ll probably be happy if you manage to get him to be less of a hard-ass,” Seungmin told you, glancing into his cup to see how much drink he had left, “god knows when was the last time he got laid.” 

You flushed, shoving Seungmin, “how can you say that?” 

“What? It’s true!” 

You gave him a dismayed glare, standing up with a sigh as you straightened out your skirt, glancing at the time on your phone. 

“I should probably be heading back now, I’ve got work to do,” you gave Seungmin a pointed look, pulling him up from the bench. 

“I don’t wanna go back to work,” Seungmin let out a loud strangled sound of protest, his shoes stomping on the wooden panelled floor of the rooftop. 

You giggled, a teasing smile on your face, “weren’t you the one saying the legal team was what again? Enticing?” 

Seungmin pouted, pressing the elevator button, abruptly flailing his limbs in a mini outburst before straightening up and composing himself. 

“Fine, I’m fine. Enjoy your stupid office romance with Chan.” 

You rolled your eyes. 

Chan had a consultation with the legal team later that afternoon regarding the issue with the shareholder, and you’d been all-too-distracted during the meeting as you thought about what your possible ‘action-plan’ regarding your situation with Chan was. 

Taking down notes during the meeting, you’d let your train of thought wander, almost doodling onto your notebook, with one hand supporting your head on the table before you heard the legal advisor from the shareholder’s side speak up, a guttural groan leaving him. 

Looking up with an annoyed furrow of your eyebrows, you heard him lean back in his chair, “what does a man need to do to get a drink around here?” 

“You,” the man pointed a finger at you, “go and make yourself useful, sweetheart. Get me a cup of coffee.” 

Chan’s eyebrows knit into a frown, looking at the legal consultant with clear disdain on his face, looking at you to gauge your reaction. Already expecting you to do what you always did, get up with a smile and come back with the man’s coffee, Chan figured he was too annoyed by it to let you do just that. 

About to speak up to the man, you'd shocked Chan when you narrowed your eyes at him, giving him a sweet smile, "sorry, that's not my job here. Since you're not contributing much to the discussion, why don't you make your legs useful and head right over there and get yourself some water." 

You huffed, staring him down as he glared at you, directing his gaze to Chan. "Are you just gonna let her talk to me like that? I'd fire such a rude brat if I were you. Who's your supervisor, I'm gonna make sure he hears of this." 

Chan did his best to conceal his smile, simply turning his chair ever so slightly to give you a small smile, "that would be me, and I heard it loud and clear. Now, shall we continue with the meeting?" 

=== 

You’d been spending hours at your desk, distractedly doing research as you’d kept trying to peep into Chan’s office to figure out what he was doing, to no avail. (Chan had put the blinds down halfway through the day since he couldn’t stop staring outside at your desk either). 

You were technically done with your work, and Chan did mention that you were free to go home once you were done. On any other occasion this would have been considered a miracle, and you wouldn’t have hesitated to go home. But now, there was a nagging feeling in your heart that you couldn’t just leave him here, especially with how stressed out he was because of the business with the shareholder. You didn’t trust him not to spend the whole night here. 

Glancing at the time, you saw that it was already past 10, deciding that you would give him some time to make an appearance before you left, just to make sure he was alive and breathing inside his office. 

Distracting yourself with replying emails, even playing more than a few rounds of a word-search game on your phone, you figured he would’ve come out by now, but there was still not a sound coming from inside the room. 

Once the clock had almost struck 11, you figured you’d might as well go in and check on him for yourself. Going over to the pantry to make a hot drink, you’d walked back to his office, your grip tight on the saucer in your anxiousness. 

Inhaling deeply and breathing out with a resolute nod, you knocked on the door of his office, waiting a while only to be met with silence. 

Pushing open the door slightly, you’d tried again. 

“Mr Bang, is it okay if I come in?”

Upon receiving no response yet again, you’d pushed open the door fully, your eyes widening in realisation when you saw him seated at his desk, fast asleep on the chair. 

Walking over to the leather sofa as quietly as you could, you’d picked up the blanket from the sofa, making your way over to where he was, setting the hot drink onto his desk and making to drape the blanket over him. 

Only when you were adjusting the blanket did he stir awake, making your fight-or-flight instincts kick in, strangely embarrassed if he were to catch you doing such a gesture for him. 

Blinking slowly, his eyebrows furrowed before his gaze had landed on you. 

“I thought you’d gone home already?” He pouted, making you fumble to find an excuse why you’d stayed behind. 

“Sorry, Mr Bang, I was—”

He gave you a lazy smile, shaking his head, “none of that ‘Mr Bang’, nonsense. How come you haven’t left yet?” 

You pressed your lips together firmly, pulling your hands away from the blanket as you tried to straighten up, sighing softly. 

“I couldn’t leave… for some reason. I kind of wanted to make sure you were okay, since I barely saw you the whole day.” 

Chan’s satisfied smile had grew, nodding at you as if prompting you to continue. 

“but I’ll go soon. I guess,” you blurted, “unless like you know, you need me for something, then I’m fine with staying.” You stopped yourself, nodding before you could embarrass yourself any further. 

You couldn’t help but let your breath hitch when he’d reached out to grab your hand. 

“Thank you, for checking up on me,” he murmured, his close proximity making your gaze dart to his lips, averting your gaze quickly. 

“Did you not come out of your office on purpose?” You narrowed your eyes at him, hating the way your heart was doing flips at the way he grinned, his dimples showing cutely. 

You were about to pull back out of your own internal panic, but Chan’s grip on your hand was firm. 

“I’m sorry, I know I said I wouldn’t ask you for anything that wasn’t work related from now on. But It’s killing me, because you were sitting outside the whole day and I couldn’t do anything about it…” he paused, tilting his head as he searched your expression. 

“You can refuse, but I just need you to do one little thing for me,” he murmured,  pulling you forward so you’d ended up seated on his lap, your arms going out to grasp his shoulders to steady yourself. 

“What do you need me to do?” You asked, your voice a mere murmur with how the tension was absolutely suffocating you, wanting nothing more than to just close the gap between the both of you. 

Chan’s hand went up to your chin, running his thumb over your lower lip as they unconsciously parted, “close your eyes.” 

Chan couldn’t help but smirk at the way you’d done so obediently, his hand going to where your neck met your jaw, leaning closer to press his lips against yours. 

Almost as if it was second nature, he’d let his other hand grasp your hip, his thumb rubbing the area soothingly. Tilting his head to kiss you deeper, you’d practically sighed into the kiss, your hands wrapping around his neck loosely as you felt him smile into the kiss. 

“I’m glad it’s you,” he murmured against your lips, his tongue swiping against your lower lip making you let out a surprised hum, not being able to help your smile as well. 

“We should stop,” you pulled away, breathless. 

“Why?” 

You shook your head, “I could kiss you for hours. It’s already so close to midnight.” 

Chan glanced at the clock apathetically, looking at you and shrugging, his hand running up and down your side. 

“So be it, then,” he said, pulling you back to meet his lips. 

===

“Is it just me, or has President Bang been a lot less moody these days,” Seungmin heard one of his colleagues in the legal team asking her desk-mate, making her colleague nod gravely. 

The mention of President Bang had him glancing towards his office, spotting your desk empty and figuring you were inside his office. 

“Definitely. At first I thought it was just me, but he’s been a lot less harsh to Y/N as well,” she agreed. 

“Don’t you think so, Seungmin?” 

And almost as if on cue, you’d exited his office, pulling your hair out of your ponytail to readjust it, looking around as if scanning the area to see if anyone had seen you. 

Locking eyes with Seungmin, you shot him a wink, straightening out your blouse as you’d gone back to sit down at your desk. 

Seungmin scoffed, not being able to help the smile on his face as he rolled his eyes, “yeah, I think I know why.” 

[bringingglory]

@eerna oh my god acshdgagaahhdvsahsv I never expected you to see my post, so I won't lie, I feel like super embarrassed acsgsga

anyway! not gonna lie, this wip has been sitting in my drafts for months now because I wanted to see if I could plan stuff but then I got stuck because Details are hard to figure out BUT I did write out a few scenes, so I'll put them below the cut because they're kind of long. the first one is the "opening" of the fic and the second one is a sort of reimagining of the Silent Princess memory. i have a few other scenes sort of scribbled out, but these are the most "polished" of the stuff i've written alsdkfjasdfk

the opening lol

Link wakes to a faint buzzing in his ear that sends little darts of pain shooting through his skull. He waits for it to end, and when it doesn’t he groans and rolls over, smacking the space around him to find whatever was making that noise and make it shut up. He can’t fathom why his brain is rolling through his skull like that and why there’s an intense pressure behind his eyes, but when he rolls onto his side, he has to press a hand to his abdomen to settle whatever was sloshing around inside his stomach.

Ah. He’s hungover.

Link peels open his eyes and the light sends a fresh wave of pain ricocheting through his skull. He blinks once, twice, and then forces his eyes open to find a phone the size vibrating against the ground a few inches away from his hand.

Link groans and pushes himself up to a sitting position before grabbing the phone and dismissing the alarm. When the phone falls silent in his hands, he finally looks around and tries to assess the situation.

He’s sitting in a bathtub, the porcelain slightly damp from what he hopes is just water. His shirt smells vaguely of cheap vodka and he still can barely look at the sunlight streaming through the window without wincing.

A moment later, he realizes the phone in his hands isn’t his.

Link holds the phone up to his face and rubs the grogginess from his eyes. He swipes up on the screen, surprised that it isn’t protected by a password.

The phone is open on note in the notes app, and it reads:

link, if you’re reading this right now, im so sorry for leaving you in the tub like that!!! my dad’s supposed to come home from the office today and the document case i was telling you about is missing and he cant know i lost it. i know we just started getting along, and im so sorry to ask you this, but could you find the document case? impa’s in my contacts and she can help you. also you have permission to dig through my phone, just dont judge me if i have anything embarrassing on there. can you find the file by midnight? his flight leaves at 3 and i can stall him until then.

it’s 6:11 right now so i have to run before he gets back, but please hurry! i’ll be waiting for you

-zelda

Link blinks and turns the phone off.

Last night? What happened last night? Why can’t he remember anything?

Well, if his raging headache tells him anything, it’s that he had probably blacked out last night.

Link isn’t usually a drinker or a partier. He isn’t really one to go to big social events. So he’s really confused as to why he woke up passed out in a tub with zero memories.

And also, why Zelda left her phone with him.

a version of the Silent Princess memory but they're at a party and its modern

Zelda laughs. “I think I got a little too sober from the Yiga incident to enjoy the party now.”

Link isn’t sure if he’s supposed to laugh with her, but nods anyway. “Do you want to get some air?”

Zelda gives him an odd look, then sighs. “Yeah. Yes. That would be a good idea.”

Surprisingly, she grabs his forearm and leads him through all the bodies pressed against each other. He can feel the heat of her hand wrapping entirely around his arm like a hot glove, even above the heat of the late summer air and the heat from other people in close proximity.

Somehow, they make it to the other side of the house. Zelda pushes the back door open and pulls him past the other stragglers outside before they find a nice tree with a patch of grass that seems generally clear of alcohol and vomit.

Zelda releases his arm as soon as she finds the tree and she sits down, dropping her head against the trunk.

“Are you okay?” He asks.

Zelda waves her hand vaguely.

Link pauses. “Do you need water?”

“If you get me any more water, I’m probably gonna piss myself,” says Zelda. “Sit down.”

He sits down.

The crickets hum vaguely around them, mingling with the distant buzzing and thumping bass of the music from the party. But without people pressing in from all sides and an open field in front of them, it finally feels like he can take a full breath.

The silence settles over them like a blanket. It feels comfortable to him, but he isn’t sure if it’s supposed to be.

“Oh, Link, look.”

Link cranes his head to see Zelda twist around and point out a blue flower glowing vaguely in the dark. It was beautiful with blue petals so light they looked almost white, and a sky blue bleeding out from the center before fading out.

He wants to give her a questioning look, but she’s transfixed on the flower. He can see the smallest of smiles creeping up onto the corners of her mouth.

“It’s a Silent Princess,” she says. “It was my mom’s favorite flower.”

He can tell something important is happening, so he keeps his mouth shut.

“She said that we can’t grow them domestically yet, despite our best efforts.” Zelda breaks into a full smile and it’s radiant. “The Princess can only thrive out here. In the wild.”

They both turn to look back at the house as another loud WHOOP cuts through the air, followed by the sound of a can being crushed against a head.

“Nature is beautiful,” says Link.

Zelda swats him and he has to bite back a laugh.

She turns and runs a gentle finger along one of the petals before sighing and leaning back against the tree.

“Thank you,” she says suddenly. “For being there with the Yiga. And for being there the whole party.” He can hear her swallow. “I’m sorry for being a bitch.”

“You weren’t being a bitch,” says Link.

“I was, though.” Zelda inhales beside him. “I mean, just because I’m under a lot of stress from my dad doesn’t mean I’m allowed to take it out on other people. I was acting like a kid.”

“To be fair, your dad sounds like an asshole sometimes.”

Zelda snorts. “Yeah. He can be.” He turns his head to see her lean forward to fiddle with the grass. “But he’s got a lot on his plate. And it probably doesn’t help that his daughter doesn’t want anything to do with his ‘legacy.’”

“Just because your dad’s under a lot of pressure doesn’t mean he’s allowed to be an asshole,” Link points out.

Zelda finally looks up at him and offers him a small grin. “Fair enough.”

“And besides, you’re your own person. You don’t need to follow in his footsteps.”

“That’s what I said,” huffs Zelda. “But of course it’s, ‘blah blah you have a responsibility. I didn’t raise you like this so you could waste your time researching pointless things.’” She sighs. “It’s fine. It’s whatever. I came to this stupid party to blow off steam, I guess. But Goddess, I did not eat enough today to drink that many cans of shitty beer.”

Link sits upright, alert. “Do you need to get food or—”

“No, no, that’s fine.” And that smile returns and Link wonders what else he can say to make it stay. “You’re sweet. But I’ve probably gotten drunk enough tonight.” Her eyes slide up to him and the mischief in them stops his heart for a moment. “You still have to try the Hot Frog.”

Link blinked. “...what is that?”

--

the endings are abrupt on both of them just bc i wasn't entirely sure how to end them akldjfasd. also the "Hot Frog" is gonna be some kind of mixed drink that gets link really drunk -- me trying to allude more to the original memory from the game haha

anyway, thank you so much for the ask! and thank u for coming up with the shitpost because it made me laugh the first time i read it hasdklfj hopefully i'll continue this one day and do ur shitpost au justice!

[mjxmoon]

george being a bitch because he’s shy 🪴

george x black reader

word count: ~1.1k

request: Can you do georgenotfound with a black reader where like he sees her stream all the time bc he has a crush and dream invites her to film with them and he's being really stiff and distant so she thinks he's like racist or something and goes to cuss him out?(fluffy ending though please)

a/n idk how fluffy the ending is but enjoy also this goes from like 3rd person to 2nd person a few times oops

warnings: swearing 

“You invited her over here!?” George shouts in disbelief, “Why would you do that?” 

“Come on, you like her and you’re only in Florida for one more week,” Clay explains. The sound of the doorbell then rings throughout the house and a wicked smile appears on his face “Oh she's here.”

“WHAT!?”

Outside you bounce on your heels nervously as you wait for someone to answer the door. When ‘Dream’ invited you over to his house to film a video with him and George your heart stopped. The fact that one of the most popular Minecraft YouTubers watched your streams AND wanted to make a video with you in person was almost too much to handle. A man then opens the door, and it takes you a moment to realize that who is standing in front of you is Clay.

He says your name with an enthusiastic grin as he pulls you into a hug. You never expected him to be a hugger but willingly accept his embrace. “It's so great to meet you!” He says excitedly as he ushers you inside, taking your coat from you quite gentlemanly and welcoming you into his home. 

damn, this man's stacked you think to yourself as you look around his house. You spot George hanging back by the staircase and feel a little bit star struck seeing him in person “Hi! George, right?” Dumbass You curse to yourself, what a stupid introduction. 

He raises a hand to give you a wave before swiftly turning around “Yeah, let me know when you guys wanna start filming.”

You knew to come with the expectation that George wouldn't be the same as he was on stream but you were expecting a little more enthusiasm. “Um yeah let's get started.” Maybe he’s just nervous around new people. You try to convince yourself before your mind wanders to the other more racially motivated possibilities. 

Clay leads you to his office that's complete with the sickest gaming setup you’ve ever seen. “Wow,” You say looking around in awe. You notice George staring at you from the corner of your eye and when you try to acknowledge him he quickly turns away and goes to do something else.

As Clay starts explaining his plan for the video you can only think about George and the reason he’s being so cold to you. He doesn't have to be an angel but some basic human decency would be nice. He’s the reason you got into streaming and as embarrassing as it is you developed a slight crush on him so him being a bit of an asshole hits you a little harder than it should.

You snap out of your thoughts as Clay extends one of his headsets to you. You stare at it for a moment before confidently taking it and setting it on your head. I'm not gonna think about it anymore you tell yourself I'm just gonna have a good time. That's what you came here for anyway- well not exactly it was mostly to meet George- but instead of sulking over it, you decide to make the best of the opportunity. 

While you guys film a Minecraft manhunt together you try your best to ignore George and his shitty attitude. Every time you tried to make a joke or interact with him he wouldn’t say anything or talk to Clay instead. As time passes it becomes more and more infuriating and you practically give up. Now that you think about it, maybe you should have had more sense than to develop a crush on a steamer you knew nothing about and expected him to give a shit about you.

“I'm gonna go get something to drink,” Clay says, sliding off his headset “You two want anything?”

“I’ll have some water please.” You say. George shakes his head as he immediately gets on his phone, probably to drown you out for the next 5 minutes.

Clay looks between you and George and feels a little guilty for the tense situation he’s created. Clay teased George relentlessly about his crush on you, but maybe he should have warned George that the girl he's been in love with for months was coming to see him. Clay keeps his eye on them until he closes the door a little scared of what will happen once he leaves.

“Hey did I do something?” You finally decide to ask after a painfully awkward moment of silence. 

“No,” George says, simply not looking up from his phone. 

His tone is super dismissive, which only pisses you off more, “Do you not like me?” You inquire. He doesn't respond, and you can’t help but feel like you’ve found your answer. “Really? Is it because I'm Black?” You don’t know where that came from, but it was at the back of your mind, and you don’t feel guilty for asking. His eyes snap to you rather quickly and you sit there with an unamused expression letting him know you’re dead serious. 

“Because if it is just say so, that way I don’t have to stay here anymore with you and your racist bu-”

“Why would you even think that!?” He cuts in, very hurt by your implication. 

“Well I don’t know you’ve been kind of a dick this whole time- and this wouldn't be the first time someone’s been a dick to me because I’m Black.”

“It's not like that I swear, and I don’t hate you-” he stumbles over his words trying not to say what he so desperately wants to but it comes out anyway “I….like you.”

You pause your rant and look at him in shock. It takes you a moment to register but when you do you feel a mix of all sorts of different things “So what you were just gonna treat me like an ass because you liked me? What is this elementary school?” You flop back into your chair and huff feeling slightly embarrassed.

The silence falls back over the room and you fiddle with the hem of your shirt as you give the response he’s been waiting to hear “And I like you too.”

He blushes and as he opens his mouth to speak the door to the office burst open “Almost busted my ass coming up the stairs.” Clay says slightly out of breath.

You and George burst out laughing, letting go of the awkwardness and tension built up from earlier, finally able to express yourselves.

“Did I miss something you two seem more chummy?” Clay says as he slides back in his chair. 

“Nothing.” George replies, quickly logging back into the game, flashing you a cute grin before putting his headset back on. “Come on, let's finish this!” 

“Uh-huh…” Clay says looking between the two of you unconvinced “I’ll just check the recording later.” 

“The what?!” You and George look at each other in horror when you realize that Clay never actually paused the recording, and your conversation was now going to be in his possession forever. “DREAM!”

[haikyuu-scenarios-drabbles]

burnt out

school has completely wiped you out, and just when you need it most Iwaizumi is there to pick you back up again. 

genre: fluff, comfort  words: 1.2k

a/n: listen im in vet school taking 27 credits and this past week was an absolute shit show so i wrote this in a hour bc i really needed some comfort, hope you can find some in it as well 💖J

taglist: @kurosarium @apollochjld @afterglowkuroo

Iwaizumi finds you curled up on the couch when he gets home, wrapped up in a blanket so thoroughly all he can see is your face. If he couldn’t see your expression, he might’ve laughed at you. Instead, his heart stumbles in his chest at your impossibly tired and broken face. He knows these past couple weeks in school have been hard for you, but judging from your demeanor, you’ve hit the breaking point.

You slide your ghostly face over to him, giving him a quiet greeting before turning your attention back to the TV that he’s not even sure you’re watching. He carefully slides his shoes off, walks silently into the living room and picks your legs up to he can sit on the couch next to you. You barely pay him any mind.

“What are you watching?” He asks after a moment.

There’s no reply from you for a few seconds. Then a quiet, “Just some baking show,” emits from the bundle of blankets.

He closes his eyes slowly, worming his hands underneath the blanket to set them on your bare legs. Again, you pay him no mind. Not until he starts rubbing his hands along your calves, massaging them between his fingers before moving up your legs and to your thighs.

It’s then that you know he’s knows something is up. Rarely does he ever indulge you in the magic of his hands—only when he knows you’re wound up about something or you convince him very thoroughly does he spoil you. He wonders how long it will take for you to speak up. Similarly, he knows that you know he’s onto you.

“Hajime?” You say quietly, still unmoving from your blanket burrito.

“Yes?”

Now a large huff escapes you, but it stutters halfway through, indicating you’re attempting not to cry. “School really sucks.” Is all you manage to say through your trembling lips that he can’t see.

He sighs deeply through his nose, his hands still moving methodically along your legs. “I know sweetheart.” He knows that some days—most days its torture for you to watch him go to work every day while you’re still stuck in some classroom. He knows it isn’t easy when he can kick back for the night while you retreat back to the office to hunch over your computer for a few more hours.

Very slowly, you rise from the blankets, shifting so that you can straddle his lap and wrap your arms around him, burying your face into his neck. He’s warm and solid and his scent is overwhelmingly comforting to you. It also helps that his hands spread across your back and start working into the muscles of it. Only when your body starts shaking ever so slightly does he pause his ministrations.

Through muffled sniffles you say, “I did terrible on another test and now I can’t stop thinking about it and I know I shouldn’t dwell on it, but I can’t stop. And all I can think about is that I’m not good enough and I don’t know what I’m doing anymore. Why am I even doing this to myself?”

He guides your head off his neck, holding it in his hands and forcing you to look at him. Seeing you like this, tears rolling down your cheeks over some damn test that he knows means a lot to you makes his heart break. He looks at you seriously, his deep brown eyes boring into you when he says, “Are you going to make me say it?” You huff, fresh tears spilling down your cheeks, lips trembling with the effort to not break out into full blown sobbing. It’s so stupid—you know it is. But you can’t help it. Not when you put so much time and energy into something just to get knocked down. Continuing to hold your head in his hands, he smooths his thumbs across your cheeks, wiping some tears away.

“You are one of the smartest people I know. And I am so proud of you. I know it’s hard. I’ll tell you every day that you’re good enough if that’s what it takes. And as much as you don’t want to hear it, it’s just a test.”

A broken laugh escapes you at how sincere he is. He presses his lips to your forehead before letting you nestle up next to him again, your tears subsiding in the comfort and solace of his arms. “I know I’m being ridiculous,” you mutter, knowing just how silly this is. But it was just the last straw from the last few weeks of shoving as much information into your brain as possible every day. You spend almost every waking moment thinking about school and it’s frustrating to feel like it’s all for nothing.

“Maybe just a little bit,” he chuckles pressing another kiss to your temple, his hands moving on to rub your shoulders. He pulls you away from him a little so he can give you a proper kiss, his skilled hands wrapping around the back of your neck to press you close to him telling you exactly what he thinks about that nagging thought of ‘not good enough’ he knows you have.

Your hands drift down to his shirt, fingers curling into his collar, allowing yourself to let it go. It’s one test. It’s not the end of the world. And it certainly doesn’t define your worth.

“Can I be honest and say that I hate you just a little bit when you come back from work and can just leave everything at the door?”

His forehead rests against yours, a smile curving his lips as he shakes his head. “Yes, you’re allowed to say that.”

You sag against him, doing your best not to start spiraling again as you think about everything waiting for you to do in the other room. “Thinking about looking at my computer screen for one more second makes me what to die.”

Now a full-blown laugh escapes him. “Then don’t,” he says. “Take the night off.”

You listen to him, letting yourself sink into his embrace and have him tell you about his day at work. He insists on making the two of you dinner without you lifting a single finger, forcing you to sit at the counter keeping him company while he cooks. He lets you talk about school, getting it all off your chest, and feeling like an enormous weight has been lifted off your shoulders. And you secretly promise yourself you won’t let it build up only to explode like this again.

And that night he thoroughly pampers you. Once in a blue moon does he ever indulge you like this, his rough yet familiar hands working out all the knots you build from sitting at your desk for hours—feather light kisses following each pass of his hands. All while murmuring compliments to you, never once letting you think you aren’t good enough.

Afterwards, finding yourself wrapped up in his arms, legs tangled beneath the sheets as you hold his head in your hands lightly caressing his cheeks. His eyes are closed in pure bliss when you tell him, “I love you, Hajime.”

He shifts to hold you even closer to him, and barely above a whisper he replies, “I love you too.”

[chemicalpink]

TEEN IDLE ♡ MIN YOONGI

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader

Genre: SMUT (with plot *question mark*)

Warnings: unprotected sex, public sex (inside a bathroom at a party), kinda power dynamics bc Yoongi’s a CEO

Word Count: 3.2k

A/N: AHHHHHH I ACCIDENTALLY DELETED THE OG SO THIS IS A REPOST Missing Boongi hours but lowkey also horny hour. This took various unexpected turns but it ended up being just what I had first pictured, perhaps a second part may follow after I’m done with the series. I would love to hear your thoughts on this! As usual! Stay safe and enjoy this lil something!

Summary: I want the world to go away. I want to be a real fake. Baby, don’t you wish you’d been a prom queen fighting for the title instead of being sixteen and burning up a bible?

As a producer, Yoongi would like to say that he’s got an eye for it. Like that time he stopped his friend Namjoon, now his producing partner, from pursuing a vocalist career when the kid was around 15 and instead showed him the paradise that holds being a rapper (and man, did the kid got some talent for it) or how he is in charge of Kim Seokjin’s full career now that both him and Namjoon got a pretty stable and constantly growing entertainment company in Seoul.

So yeah, you could say he was quite pleasantly surprised when he met you.

You had been working at the company for some time, he was sure of that since they weren’t that big of a company and he had most probably interviewed you back then, but either now there was something that wasn’t there before, or he was slowly but surely losing his touch for spotting upcoming artists.

“Hey Y/N? Yoongi was asking to see you in his office” a girl that you recognised from somewhere on the fifth floor of the company said as she placed down her working papers next to you, with you nodding thanks to her way before standing up and making your way towards the elevators. Min Yoongi was the mastermind behind the whole company, so to say that having him ask for you made you nervous was the understatement of the century. You had only encountered him a few times after your initial interview, here and there, dishevelled hair, pouty lips at some ungodly hour in the morning, most probably from sleeping in his studio (which Namjoon said he did quite often). The elevator dings to let you know you’re in the penthouse level, trying your hardest to keep your heart from beating loudly whether from him being your boss, office crush (enabled by Kim Namjoon thank you very much) or both, you push the small button on the right for a few seconds before a buzzing sound is heard, unlocking the door and coming face to face with Yoongi’s back, carefully making your way to the nearest chair, across from him, on a glass desk.

“Y/N? right?” he said as he turned around to face you, stoic face in place, just the way he liked to carry himself out there; you nod a little disappointed, who can blame you if you were at least hoping for a small smile from him seen as he personally asked for you “Y/N, it gets hard to remember everyone sometimes, which department are you on?”

“Oh I’m-uh, just an intern, I help here and there” and may the ground swallow you up after the fakest laugh you’ve laughed in your life, to which Yoongi smirked at.

“Let’s say, I’m looking for a personal assistant” he trailed off, locking his gaze on your face as if to watch your every gesture, and from the lightning, you could see your reflection on his blue light glasses that refused to fall off even when barely standing at the tip of his nose “Would you be up for the challenge, Y/N?” and you knew, deep down, that his offering had little to do with your abilities, seen as you were only on an internship, barely fresh out of college, and being the PA of a very famous, very busy, CEO of an entertainment company was indeed a challenge, to say the least; which then lead you to assume that Min Yoongi had much more different reasons for giving the newest intern such a high position so yeah, perhaps with better judgement you suppose you would have said no, but Min Yoongi was a respected man that was constantly under the spotlight so there was nothing to worry about. Right?

And you sure did, envious whispers and glances from most of the company aside from how fast you ascended in the business hierarchy, being producer Min Yoongi’s personal assistant was quite a wild ride, something in the back of your mind had told you that it might even be a fun one, given that he was just two years older than you and most of his and Namjoon’s signed artists were always invited everywhere, sadly, Min Yoongi turned out to be that type of person that would only go out if it was strictly business, while Namjoon handled year-end award shows and afterparties, Yoongi maned the board meetings and the correspondent (and mostly boring) New Years company dinner. Coming to think of it perhaps it would have been much more fun being Namjoon’s personal assistant. Or Seokjin’s hairdresser. But may your daddy issues and love for power dynamics of seeing that man dressed up in a black suit, glasses perched on his nose and Rolex on his wrist while you imagine the most inappropriate things to think about your boss win, right?

So yeah, perhaps over the months it had become fairly monotone the way you just schedule meetings, lunch and organise files for Yoongi, nothing out of the ordinary (or out of your wet dreams that no one should know of) up until yet again the end of the year came around and Yoongi, in full CEO mode, was supposed to attend a gala with the stockholders and sponsors of the company, which, from what you and anyone working there could tell, Yoongi was pretty much begging Namjoon to spare him from going. You approached the door to his office while the younger was still there, smirking at his business partner 

“Yoongi-hyung, you can’t just evade them like the plague for the rest of your life”

Yoongi’s eyes closed in on Namjoon’s face with a challenge in it as he straightened his posture “Just watch me”

Namjoon just rolled his eyes and let out an airy laugh “Do whatever you want hyung, but remember the company please” and as fast as that he was gone out the door.

You, of course, having grown fond of the man in front of you, had your brain short circuit as you blurted out “Love problems?” trying to keep it cool, pretend that deep down you weren’t feeling your heartbreaking at your office/boss crush having an interest in someone that clearly isn’t you while he turned to look at you in a funny way, making you feel as if you had just started a conversation that was going nowhere, that he didn’t want to have with you “Sorry, I overstepped”

“Ah, no it’s fine, yeah, you could say that, yeah” he cleared his throat as he fixed his uptight posture and god did the man had to do the bare minimum to get your fantasies going “My ex is going to be at the gala and I just- don’t wanna seem like there is nothing more in my life other than work” 

“Well that is pretty much all you have going on in your life though” you joked and effectively made him crack a lopsided smile at you “But I would admit for a second there I thought it would be funny to see you pulling a fake dating card to make your ex jealous”

“A what?”

“You know, an arm candy, be the centre of attention, the new item, make your ex think there’s a lot they don’t know going on in your life” you laughed to yourself at the image of a man like Yoongi pulling a high school scheme in the middle of a company gala, that would surely make the weirdest thing you could witness in your life. CEO, Min Yoongi, pretends to date someone just to get his ex jealous. That would be a hell of a headline.

But your inner image came to a halt as you turned to your boss and felt something shift in the air, quite indescribable but his feline eyes scrutinizing you sitting on the armrest of the sofa near his desk, his lip clasped between his teeth for a few seconds too long “And you think you’d be able to pull it off?”

You swore your heart skipped a beat at that “Well- I wasn’t...really referring to myself” your eyes unable to hold his stare any second longer “..sir”

“You have quite a childish mind, Y/N” he laughed lightly as he took his phone in his hand, the heavy air dissipating from the office “But I must admit, you got me at the textbook high school jealousy act, I was never the type to do it back in the day”

“Yeah, it kind of is childish” your mind was racing a hundred miles per second, unable to decide whether to take him calling you childish as an insult or him suggesting to do it and have you with him as his partner in crime as an insinuation of reciprocating your feelings.

“Well, Y/N I sent you the gala info, sleep on it and let me know your plan, okay? consider it work stuff” The guts of this man to disarm you with a glance and a few words was beyond incredible “Oh and while you’re at it, can you tell Seokjin-hyung to come to my office for a second?” And that was your cue to leave. Just like that. As if he didn’t just basically asked you to attend a yearly gala with him. To make his ex jealous.

.-.

As it turns out, there is a worse thing than to feel butterflies in your stomach due to your boss wearing a dark suit and that is having an overwhelming need to kiss him stupid while he just bleached his hair, dressed in a tailored grey suit and pulling up in a sports car to your apartment building as you wait outside, dressed in something that feels so expensive you would have to work a lifetime and still wouldn’t be able to buy again if it wasn’t for Yoongi sending it to your house sometime in the morning.

“Oh it fits,” he says as a greeting as you round the car and get in after fixing your dress and smiling at him, trying (and most probably failing) to conceal every racing thought in your head and feeling in the bottom of your tummy.

It was a very predictable silent ride with just a lo-fi tune coming from the radio as he drove both of you through the streets and ended up in a secluded real estate area deep in Seocho-gu “You know, I kept thinking this whole idea was stupid and so so childish but Joonie says that now is the time to let loose before I’m actually old” he turns to look at you at the red light, shamelessly scanning you up and down and may you thank the universe for taking that acting class back in college, mustering up both knowledge and courage to get you through tonight, playing the part. You may also thank that unlike Yoongi, you had your fair share of teenage escapades and jealousy acts back in the day.

“It’s going to be fun, oppa” you say the last part teasingly sexy just to watch him react to it and both of you burst out laughing. Him muttering something about getting dragged into the whole situation.

For the most part, the gala consists mostly of you smiling and greeting people while Yoongi talks to them about things that your sober brain couldn’t comprehend, and as the champagne flutes kept coming, stock numbers and share percentages just flew by you as you stuck to your boss’ side. And listen, one can only hold so much liquid for so long. And the whole gale fiasco seems to extend until the end of times. Now you can understand just why Yoongi practically has to drag himself to these things.

“I’ll be back in a sec, I’m going to the restroom” you whisper to him as you lean into him, smiling your fakest but brightest smile at the man in front of him

“Sure thing, sweetheart” he replies back, eyes glistening and you have to pretend that the nickname just didn’t affect you enough for your legs to give out before walking away.

That quick face refreshing was not nearly enough to stop you brain shortcutting again at the sight in front of you, a very notably awkward Min Yoongi and a bubbly dark-haired lady laughing non stop at him (or with him, but he clearly wasn’t getting the joke) and you instantly had to channel your inner cheap rom-com actress to get the poor man out of his misery. Not the greatest plan that’s a given. Kind of on the childish side, as Yoongi liked to put it. But hopefully, it would do the trick.

“Yoongi-oppa! I thought you had left the party!” Yoongi turned his face to your higher-pitched voice in disbelief before you clung to his side, the girl flinching and quickly stepping back, Yoongi’s face just amused at your weird approach and decision to do aegyo in the middle of a business gala. Not that he was complaining, you were definitely playing the part. Him soon realising that he had to play the part too.

“Y/N, baby, this is Ara, my ex” he said as he slipped his left hand around your waist, you faking surprise and extending a hand to her very surprised face.

Not having enough of the way Yoongi seemed to enjoy her starstruck face, you decided to step it up a notch. “Ara, I’m so sorry, I’ll steal Yoongi from you for a second time, okay?” if her face was anything to go by, she was either about to implode or become a tomato, which to be honest was most probably the first one. Yoongi bit his lip amused, trying to hold his laugh in and ignore the way you two had pretty much caused a small scene that went on for the expecting eyes as you dragged the man away from his ex and very much openly into the women’s bathroom.

“I thought I was going to faint for a second there,” you said as you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding in, walking up to click the door to the small bathroom closed. You definitely needed a second “Yoongi?”

“Oh no, totally, she was most probably plotting your funeral right there” he smiled that gummy smile everyone knew he had reserved for his acceptances speeches on best production at you and your heart did a whole backflip inside your chest “But that was also hot as shit, Y/N” now that right there was a novelty, Yoongi behaving his age or a few years younger, language and all, away from the whole Oscar-worthy act you two had pulled.

“Oh so he curses”

You could feel the air shift again like that time inside his office, the air heavy with something recognizable as lust but the reality far away from it. Your boss was on the other end of it. An invisible line you knew was stupid to cross. “You just wait until I get a string of curses out of you, Y/N”

His eyes seemed even more feline-like as he stared intently at you a few steps away from him, your weight on the small counter, reciprocating his lustful stare. “Well doesn’t that sounds like a challenge, boss?”

Something inside him snapped and in a second he had his lips on yours, hands keeping you the closest to his body, tongue tracing your mouth as ragged breaths filled the room, his mouth making its way down your jawline and latching onto your exposed skin just beside your shoulder, big hands cupping your ass from beneath your dress as you let out a whine.

“You’ll have to be quiet for me, doll, as much as I am enjoying the whole reckless adolescent ride, I would like to stay clear from any sex scandal” You simply nodded as he placed you on top of the counter, dress bunched up on around your waist as his skilled fingers began playing with your clothed folds, wetting them with your already dripping juices “You have no idea how much I’ve dreamt about this”

Your head whipped back towards the mirror as the air hit your cunt when he removed your panties, ringed fingers teasing your entrance, his free hand pocketing the small thong inside his slacks, your hands gripping his hair tighter every time he pressed your nerve bundle against his palm. Under the whole lust haze, still, a bit conscious of your surroundings a door clicking open, a voice on the other side and you had half a mind to back both of you into a bathroom stall as you heard steps approaching, turning back to signal Yoongi to stay quiet. The whole teenage breaking loose taking a whole real adult implication of getting caught and ruining the company’s reputation. But he didn’t seem to mind as he pressed himself against you, his hard cock grazing your exposed ass as you were pressed against the door, Yoongi rubbing himself on you and you could feel him smile against your shoulder.

“I’ve let you lead me Y/N, but right now you’ll just have to keep quiet for me doll, be a good girl for daddy, okay?” You could only inhale sharply midway into trying to tell him how much of a crazy idea this whole situation was as you felt the tip of his cock against your entrance, him expertly placing your leg at a somewhat awkward angle around his hips in order to have better access. Him taking a few seconds for you to adjust after inserting himself whole, moving at an experimental pace that had you clawing at the door in search of some support from the thrusting but finding none as he set a faster pace, a moan threatening to fall out of your lips every two seconds, your mind hazy and exploding with every possible feeling at the realization that Min Yoongi, your boss, whom you have thirsted over for moth on end, was fucking you stupid at a public gala, inside the bathroom, with people just outside the stall, the thought enough to make you clench around him and have him groaning lightly at the feeling.

“I thought I told you to be good” he muttered against your skin before pushing you down further so he could balance his pace while grabbing your hips, deepening his reach and hitting your g spot each time, a hand coming down between your legs to play with your clit to throw you against the edge at the same time as him, legs trembling and barely keeping you up if it weren’t for him holding you in place. 

“I’m not sure I’d call this a remembrance of being a ten idle,” you said as a way to lighten the post-sex awkwardness that had built up as you cleaned yourself and tried to make yourselves look somewhat presentable, “I thought I had locked the door”

“Oh no, you did, I unlocked it though,” he said, a cheeky smile to accompany his words and gummy smile, “Thought it would be fun to experience the whole high school experience, now come on, we’ve still got the whole walk of shame in the middle of an international gala as a bonus activity to this”

[starlightsearches]

Hi so i had a request idea. Hux being married to some woman bc he had to for propaganda or whatever and reader (who works closely with hux) is with them both and pryde after a meeting or at a gala, and in discussion the wife and pryde are speaking highly of brendol. The reader essentially realises hux’s wife supports and agrees with the abuse that hux has endured and so the reader takes him for a private discussion to reassure and comfort him, show that he has someone on his side. Thank you xx

Someone Else

Ahhh, writing this made me so sad, anon, you have no idea. But also, I loved it and I couldn’t stop 😰 Thank you for the request, I hope you enjoy! (Also I modified the prompt just a little bit and I hope you don’t mind)

Requests are closed ✨

Hux x Reader (no pronouns)

AN: So I’m headed on a little road trip with my sister today, and as soon as I get back, I’ll be packing up and moving, and then immediately starting work at my new school 😱 I’m not sure how this will affect my writing schedule etc, but don’t be too surprised if I’m MIA for the next week or so. I promise I’ll get back to my requests ASAP 💖 love you all 🥰🥰🥰

Warnings: ANGST, infidelity, language, not a happy ending really 🙁

Even in your most creative thoughts, it’s hard to imagine a more pathetic situation than this one. You’ve been in love with General Hux, your boss, for as long as you can remember, too cowardly to tell him how you feel. And now you’ve been forced to plan, and attend, his fucking wedding. To someone else.

You fidgeted through the whole thing: the dinner, the reception, the ceremony. Spent the whole time chewing your lip to pieces with your eyes fixed on the general, waiting for him to say something, to stop this. You could imagine how it would happen perfectly—a vision that sustained you through the whole event.

It would happen during the vows; he'd begin reading the words—the ones that you prepared for him, words about fidelity and commitment but completely void of love—and then he'd falter, pause, and his eyes would find you in the back of the crowd. The audience would fill with whispers, but you wouldn't notice at all, wouldn't hear any of it because he'd be looking at you, he'd see you looking so beautiful in the attire you chose especially for this moment and he'd realize that he’d been blind this whole time, and now . . .

The vision always got a little fuzzy there, but it was only because you couldn't wait for your favorite part: the one where he kissed you in front of all those people, a kiss so dramatic and consuming that everyone would know that it was you he loved. That it had always been you.

It didn't happen that way. No matter how deeply you tried to immerse yourself in a daydream, you couldn't miss the moment your general and his betrothed were pronounced man and wife, and the commitment was sealed with a kiss. The light smattering of applause must have been loud enough to hide the sound of your heart shattering, because no one else seemed to notice.

It’s long over now. You’re alone in the reception area, halfheartedly ripping the silk tablecloths from where they lay before balling them up and throwing them into a messy pile. You don’t have to do it, someone will be coming along to clean up eventually, but you’d like to keep busy. If you go back to your quarters, you’ll have to be alone with your thoughts.

Hux announces his presence with a slight cough that still manages to startle you, and when you turn to face him your heart breaks all over again. He looks very handsome in the uniform he wears, one made especially for this occasion—regal but not too flashy—and your breath catches in your lungs despite your mind's insistence that you're no longer allowed such feelings.

“I thought I’d find you in here, Lieutenant,” he says to break the silence, and you nod as you feel your cheeks grow warm.

“Congratulations, General,” you reply, and you almost manage to sound like you mean it, “or should I call you your highness now?”

He gives you the slightest of smirks, just a hint of a smile in response to your attempt at humor, but you can tell what he’s thinking. Emperor Hux—a title made no less impressive when you consider that it was gained through marriage. It’s what he’s always wanted; you can be happy for him.

“General is still appropriate,” he replies, bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet with pride, “I’m still your commanding officer.”

“Of course, sir,” you reply, and then, because you can’t avoid the subject any longer, "is Bristol getting ready for your departure?" It's the one concession you’ve allowed yourself—refusing to use her title whenever she isn't around. Normally you’d be smug about it, like somehow you were getting back at her, but now it just leaves you feeling empty.

“She's actually entertaining the allegiant general at the moment, in my quarters,” he replies with feigned indifference, even though you know how he feels about Pryde, “he knows her father, apparently they used to be in acquaintance.” You purse your lips in response; there’s really no need for words. It doesn't surprise you that they would get along.

You had wanted to like Bristol. Before you ever met her, you had been determined to like her, hoped desperately that the general had found someone kind and loving and devoted, because he deserved happiness and acceptance even if you weren't the one giving it to him.

Whatever you were hoping for, Bristol is . . . something else. She's beautiful, certainly, and intimidating and determined—all things you would expect from the future empress of her own star system. You've also found her to be unnecessarily cruel and demanding, towards you at least, and anyone else she thought she could look down on.

Not that it matters—you're not the one married to her. And while she might not be affectionate towards the general, she had also never been openly antagonistic. Plenty of people lived through loveless marriages. The general must have taken this into account and decided that it was a worthwhile sacrifice.

They're a handsome couple. A smart couple. And soon enough, the hurt and the wanting would fade and you would be able to move on with your life. He'd just have to stop looking so nice in his uniform first.

"There's something else I need, lieutenant," he says, pulling you from your thoughts, "before I leave. I have some last minute notes, some reminders I forgot to mention before, for my absence." You can’t help but purse your lips again, this time to hide a smile of your own. He's been more nervous about his trip back to the Alfospar System than he had ever been for the wedding, and you can’t really blame him. Two weeks is a long time for someone like him to be away from their work. 

"I know I told you there'd be no talk of work today,” he continues, “but if you wouldn't mind-"

"Please, general, of course I'll take the notes," you interrupt with a smile, "I never believed that you could resist talking about work for a whole day."

You shouldn't tease him like this; you have to stop teasing him at all, because he tries not to smile again, and your pulse starts to race. Whenever he makes that stupid face, all you can think about is peppering his cheeks with kisses, teasing him again until he really would smile and you could bask in the happiness that you created. He only has to hide his smiles when he’s around you, and you’re stupid enough to think that means something. 

"They're in my quarters," he waits for you to drop the table cloth you'd been worrying in your hands throughout the conversation, and then you follow him through the dark and quiet corridors. Neither of you speak—you've spent too much time together to find the silence uncomfortable. Unfortunately, that means that you can hear every word coming from the open door to the general's quarters as soon as you approach.

Maybe they think they're being quiet, or maybe their voices carry, or maybe neither of them mind at all that anyone could wander right outside the door, listening to every word of what should be a private conversation.

"You could have done worse, dear, I'll give you that at least," it's Pryde's voice, his words traveling down the hallway; it’s like he's right next to you, like these are words that you're meant to hear, too, and your heart clenches in your chest because you know that's not the case.

"How exactly could I have done worse, general?" That's Bristol speaking, obviously, her tone all-too familiar, like she's suffering from a headache and she believes you're the cause. You have to stop this conversation now, before one of them says something that can't be unheard. You're about to take the first step, ready to announce your presence with some inane comment that would make Bristol roll her eyes and would hopefully make Pryde swallow whatever insult was about to leave his mouth. You're about to take the first step when Hux stops you with a hand on your shoulder and a look in his eyes that puts an end to any argument.

You hope to the gods that Pryde will, by some miracle, say something nice. Or at least, something not overtly mean. You listen and you wait, brimming with foolish hope, your eyes fastened on the general, watching the way his jaw tightens as he holds his breath, waiting for Pryde to respond.

"You know," he begins, and you can already hear the mirth, already know that his next words are going to be painful and you won't be able to protect the general from them, "I'm not actually sure." There's a slight pause and then the room is filled with their bright, callous laughter, laughter that spills out of the open door and floods the hallway so completely that you feel you might suffocate in it.

"I mean honestly, I don't think I've ever met a man so weak-willed," Bristol speaks again, and she's breathless from laughter, "he is absolutely spineless-"

"Thin as a slip of paper and just as useless," Pryde interrupts,"that's what his father used to say about him."

Bristol laughs again—just a short bark this time—before she responds, "Well, he's certainly no Brendol."

"You'd have thought his father could have beaten him into shape, but . . ." they laugh again—there’s no mistaking General Pryde’s true meaning—and General Hux has heard enough. Before you can even process everything they’ve said, he's turned on his heel, walking back the way you came.

General Hux always walks fast—because he always has places to be, he says—but you have to jog to catch up to him this time, and even then you lag behind. You stumble after him in your dress shoes, cursing the way they pinch your feet before giving up and ripping them off, pursuing him around the corner.

He goes to his office, probably because there's nowhere else for him to go, and you stop just inside the doorway, trying to catch your breath. He busies himself, or tries to, fidgeting with the sparse materials on his desk—intermittently picking up his data pad, dropping it again, running a coarse hand through his hair, then gripping the back of his chair with white-knuckled hands. It strikes you, in this moment, that you've never seen the general cry before. It makes sense—there's never really been a reason for it, but you wish he would cry now, as you feel your own eyes sting with tears, because, somehow, seeing him like this is so much worse.

“General,” your voice is too timid when you speak, and you clear your throat, willing away the tightness that grows steadily as you hold back your tears. He doesn’t look up.

 You go to him, take both of his hands in your own, trying to still him, trying to hide the fact that you're shaking too. In all your time together, you've never seen him act this way. It frightens you.

"I'm sorry." It's not enough, but it's all you have to offer: a fitting metaphor for your relationship. He doesn't respond, won't even look at you with those ice green eyes. "They're wrong about you, sir." You can hardly believe that you have to say it out loud. How could he not see what you saw?

"No, lieutenant," he's dejected in his response, almost hopeless, "I don't think they are." For a moment, it feels like your heart might explode with anger, an all-encompassing anger that fills you whenever you think of Brendol Hux. The general never told you much about his relationship with his father, but you’ve put together some of the pieces. Even after all this time—after all his success—he still falls into the traps set for him by that man. Still finds it so easy to believe that he is worthless despite all the evidence to the contrary.

"How can you say that?" You cup his chin in your hand on instinct, gentle but insistent, forcing him to look you in the eyes. If you weren't so distracted by the conversation at hand, you might have realized that this was the first time you'd ever laid a hand on his bare skin, skin that’s soft and cool beneath your fingers, might have better registered the electricity setting your palm alight at the contact, might have noticed the slight flush that materialized over the general's cheeks in response to your touch. But the anger still clouds your senses, and you don’t notice any of it. "Who knows you better, general? Me or them?"

You've caught him now. You feel the delicate flex of his jaw muscles shift, as he opens his mouth, prepared to argue with you, and then freeze when he realizes that he has nothing to say.

 "You are many things, sir, but spineless is not one of them," you take advantage of his silence, speaking faster, trying to get the words out as quickly as possible so that he won't have to spend another moment in this pain. "I don't think I've ever met anyone braver, or more determined, or more suited to lead . . ." You trail off there, your face growing warm. The nature of your position, your hand on his jaw, has drawn you closer, his face wandering unthinkingly towards yours, and you could count his eyelashes from this distance, number each and every one of his freckles if he'd just stay this close.

"Lieutenant-" General Hux doesn't try to pull away, but there's some distance in his tone. You know what he's thinking. You’re thinking it, too, of course. But you’ve never gotten this close before. 

"Can I kiss you, sir?" You shouldn't, but you have to. If he'll let you. If he wants you to.

"Why?" You feel the whispered question brush up against your cheeks, and despite everything else, you know that this is your moment.

"I just want you to know what it's like," you say, "to feel loved." You wait, take the opportunity to breathe him in, share the same air—something you've done for years but never like this, never close enough to feel the heat of it—the tip of your nose just barely brushing against his as he nods, and he’s shaking a little.

It's not the kiss you had envisioned, as you cup his face in both your hands and pull him closer. You move deliberately, let him watch until he goes cross-eyed and then his eyes fall closed, and your lips meet his, so soft it's more the ghost of a kiss than anything. You wait for him there, wait for him to reciprocate the affection you give him, and he does, pressing his mouth against yours with a tentative kind of tenderness. It's not the kiss you had imagined—it's everything.

You move together, slow and gentle, two familiar people learning each other in an entirely new way, and it's intoxicating—being held by him, feeling the way his hands trail your spine, the way the pad of his thumb traces your jaw. It would be perfect, if he didn't belong to someone else.

"What are we going to do now?" He pulls away just long enough to whisper the question and you don’t let yourself respond, kissing him again while you still can. You don’t want to admit it just yet, but you have no idea what you’re going to do. You haven’t got a clue.

[opheliasbrokenmind]

Hey pal! I've got a request for you :) How about Mahone having a concussion and has to stay in hospital for weeks and company's not happy with this and force him into field again and he gets hurt again bc he can't concentrate and all :') I hope everyhting's alright with you

i just realised how much i’ve missed writing for him <3

‘Has anyone heard from Agent Mahone?’ Wheeler asked the office and you watched the people shaking their heads. It’s been three days since he disappeared and you found yourself at the FBI building, looking for him. ‘Do you know him?’ A woman with a sharp suit appeared in front of you and you frowned, ‘Yes, I do. I thought he could be here since he works late.’

‘And who are you supposed to be?’ She sounded harsh so you didn’t soften your face as you answered, ‘A close friend, and you are?’ You hoped the emphasis on the word would ring a bell and when she replied, you knew she got the message. ‘His colleague.’ You forced a smile and nodded, ‘Nice to meet you, Miss?’

‘Lang.’ She said and walked away, you stood alone and looked at the other man, ‘Thank you for asking people.’ The agent simply nodded and you left the building, thinking of a way to find him. Then your phone started to ring and you picked it immediately, ‘Alex?’

‘Good afternoon, Miss y/n.’ You looked at the screen and read his name again, then you frowned. ‘Who is this? Where’s Alex?’

‘Don’t panic, I’m calling from the Northwestern Memorial Hospital. Mr Mahone had an accident.’ You froze on the street and leaned to a wall, trying to stay calm but your heart was beating madly. ‘Is he alright?’ You managed to say and the woman on the other side sighed, ‘He will be. He was saying your name in his sleep so I thought I could call you.’

‘I’ll be there as soon as possible.’ You said and she ended the call. Your hands were shaking when you finally found a taxi and thanks to the traffic, you were there in twenty minutes. Time seemed to slow down though, every single minute pained you until you walked into the hospital.

‘Hello, can you tell me which room Alexander Mahone is staying?’ The secretary searched his name and turned to you, ‘Are you his wife, Pamela?’ The name pissed you off but you just shook your head, ‘They divorced. I’m his... friend.’ The girl smiled softly, ‘I see. We tried to reach her but she said she wasn’t living here anymore. His room number is 407.’

Once you found the room, a doctor was leaving but you ran after him. ‘Doctor, wait!’ The man turned to you and waited, ‘I’m here for Alex. Can you tell me what happened?’ He nodded, ‘All we know is he had a concussion but we’re not sure what caused it. It can be an accident or a fight, I’m not sure.’

‘What would you say?’ You asked and the man sighed, ‘Considering his line of work, I’d say a fight but that’s just a guess. Mr Mahone is a strong man so he will recover but it’s going to take time. We have to be sure he’s resting and your presence will be helpful.’ You listened carefully and asked once he was done, ‘Is there anything I can do now?’

‘Talk to him. He probably can’t answer but he’ll hear you. Let him know you’re here for him. If anything happens, ask for a nurse.’ Then he left and you stood at the corridor, trying to convince yourself that he’ll heal soon.

You opened the door and the scene in front of you hurt your whole body. The agent was lying unconscious on the bed, there was a bandage around his head and he looked so pale. Then there were cables on his body and machines beeping loudly. You forced yourself to close the door and walk to the armchair next to him before you let a tear fall down. 

It took you a few minutes to gather up, then you reached his hand and it felt cold compared to your warm one. ‘Hi, it’s me, y/n.’ You said and waited for a reaction but he didn’t move a finger so you continued. ‘I called you a few times but you didn’t answer. I thought you were on a mission or maybe you wanted to have some space, that you’d let me know soon. I went to the Bureau today and asked Agent Wheeler but he said nobody heard from you. Then a nurse called me from your phone, said you were saying my name.’

‘You scared me so much, Alex. I’m still afraid, the doctor said you’ll be fine but I just can’t help but fear... Don’t you ever leave me, okay?’ You sighed and played with his fingers, ‘Agent Lang asked me who I was and I told I’m your friend. Well, I think we are more than that, I mean you’re more than a friend to me but I wasn’t sure if you wanted people to know so I didn’t say anything more. I didn’t want to put you in a difficult position.’

‘Oh, I always talk and now I can talk as much as I want but I hate it. I don’t want to talk, I want to hear you talking. I want to see your eyes, the blues filled with energy and watch them.’ Then you didn’t know what to say, it felt like nothing you could say would change the situation so you stayed silent. You watched his chest moving as he breathed and you focused on the fact that he was alive and you were by his side. Otherwise, you knew you wouldn’t hold your tears.

Doctors and nurses came and left, informing you everything looked fine. When it was almost three in the morning, you got up from the armchair and pressed a soft kiss on his cheek, ‘Good night, Alex.’

You woke up at eight and went to grab a cup of coffee, ‘Maybe the smell of coffee can wake you up, huh?’ You smiled to yourself and sipped your drink, admiring him. ‘I realise how beautiful you are now, you know? I wish I could remember every detail of your face. I also feel stupid, because I should’ve told you this earlier. Now I’m not even sure if you can hear me but just know that... you mean a lot to me and I don’t know what I’ll do if anything happens to you.’

Your hand found his fingers once again and you pressed your lips on his hand, ‘I know things with Pam have been hard and I want to be by your side as long as I can.’ He squeezed your hand weakly and your eyes widened with shock, ‘Can you hear me? Wait, I’ll call the nurse.’

‘I swear, he squeezed my hand.’ You explained to the woman and held his hand again, ‘Alex, can you hear me?’ The nurse waited but nothing happened. ‘I don’t want to upset you but that was probably a reflex.’ She gave you a weak smile and left, you sighed and rested on the armchair.

‘I avoided to answer before but yes, I used to play the piano. I wanted to be a pianist but then... I broke my wrist and it still hurts if I push the limits. Then I decided to study Art History and you know I’ll teach at the university next semester.’

‘I like to admire those paintings and they remind me of you. I know you think you’re a bit old for me but... I don’t believe it’s about ages, what’s important is understanding the other person and I’m trying to understand you. Every time I tell you something, I feel like you care about it and I like this about you, so much.’

‘I like hearing your voice.’ He whispered suddenly and you grabbed his hand, intertwinning your fingers, ‘You are awake! Wait, let me call the doctor.’ You tried to get up but he stopped you, ‘y/n, I need to talk to you first.’

‘There are some people and they know what happened to Shales. What I did to him... They want me to catch the Fox River escapees and I’m here because I had a little argument with one of them.’ Your jaw dropped as you listened to him, ‘Are you serious? Do you want me to call the police or the Bureau?’

‘No, they can’t help and if they find out about Shales, they’d send me to prison without blinking an eye.’ He watched you carefully and you sighed, ‘We’ll talk about this later, okay? What matters now is your recovery and I’m going to take the doctor now.’

The same doctor checked him and said everything was normal, ‘You need to rest at least one week to heal, otherwise, it can leave permanent damage. How do you feel now?’ 

‘I don’t feel bad.’ He said and the doctor smiled to you, ‘You see, now you can worry less.’ Then he left the room and you felt your cheeks getting hotter as Alex watched you with a sincere smile on his face. ‘Before you ask, I heard pretty much all of it.’ You turned your head to avoid his gaze but his hand stopped you, cupping your cheek softly. You leaned into his touch and closed your eyes, ‘I meant every word.’

‘I know you did but I’m not sure if that’s the safest way now, y/n. These people are on my back and I have to give them what they want. I don’t want them to know about you, I can’t risk it.’ You moved away and frowned, ‘What are you trying to say?’

‘I need you to stay away from me until this is over.’ You didn’t know what to say for a moment, ‘What? No, Alex, I want to be with you.’

‘I want you, too, love. Just for a while and when it’s over, I won’t repeat my mistakes. We’ll have a life together, alright? I promise.’ A tear dropped on your cheek and you wiped it away, ‘Don’t do this, don’t push me away.’

Later that day, you went home to have a shower and bring him some clothes and when you were back the next morning, the secretary said he checked himself out and left. You tried to reach him but his phone number was invalid. You didn’t know the visit the Company paid to him and what would happen if he continued to stay in the hospital and do nothing.

Six days after that you woke up to the knocking on your door and you weren’t expecting to see him. You stepped back so he could come inside but you noticed how it pained him to move. ‘What happened?’ 

‘I almost had Scofield but then... he ran away and let’s say that didn’t make them happy.’ You watched him sitting on the sofa and taking off his suit jacket. ‘Are they going to attack you every time something goes wrong?’ You helped him to unbutton his shirt as he leaned back, ‘If it’s not me then it’ll be Pam or Cam.’

‘Alex...’ You tried to speak but the words left you, leaving you in pain. Then you noticed the purpleness on his chest and tears escaped from your eyes, crying as you stood on your knees with his shirt in your hands. He grabbed your arms and you saw the muscles on his arms tighten, ‘I will be okay. It was a mistake to come here but... I didn’t want to be alone. I don’t want to be alone.’

You pressed a kiss on his chest and stood up, ‘I’ll draw you a bath right now, is it okay?’ He whispered thank you and you turned back to give him a kiss on the lips, ‘Then we will have dinner and you’ll get a good sleep.’ Once his body was relaxed and his stomach was full, he let you tuck him in a blanket and you two cuddled until one of you fell asleep. That night, he realised even at the worst times, there was something beautiful and unique.