#and email people about internships

[miodiodavinci]

collapses to the ground like a deflated balloon

[immamapletreekid]

work anxiety starting before work itself hahahahaahahahahahahhhaha

[pink-esc]

Not to romanticize a past that may never have existed; but like remember when the internet was considered a new tool that could offer cool programs and make information more accessible?

now it’s just paywall after paywall and free trial after free trial. i wish i could live my life without the internet but now it’s something that you need to have for tons of jobs, social shit, fandom… it makes me upset. why do i have to give my card number to a site that fucking gives you a place to make posters? fuck you canva

while we’re here FUCK BUSINESS SOCIAL MEDIA TOO idc if sometimes they make good content (ily monterey bay aquarium) i FUCKING HATE BUSINESS SOCIAL MEDIA. that it’s a necessity to exist and succeed (easily) in this stupid world. I especially hate social media for small businesses AND I DONT CARE HOW FUCKED UP MY TAKE IS AND I DONT CARE IF “well it allows them to reach a wide audience faster making them more profitable blah blah blah 🤓” FUCK YOU SHUT UP. i’m not even going to sit here and defend my take I DONT CARE BURN IT ALL DOWN

[v6quewrlds]

❝ say my name, j. burrow. ❞  ‎ ‎ ┉  

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀summary: success is great until you realize that you haven't touched your husband in nearly a month. feeling guilty about your absence, his new assistant's constant presence hits a nerve.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀author's note: game dey fic for good luck! i'm just gonna come clean and say that this picture inspired this entire thing. possessive joe we all say in unison. this was so fun to work on, thank you anon for the request <33 requests are still open!!

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀warnings: angst & smut, please do not interact with my work if you are under 18. language, sexual content, established relationship, jealousy, dom!joe, exhibitionism?, public sex, mirror sex?, size kink? size kink, cunnilingus bc joe burrow is an eater™, the tiniest baby hint of a breeding kink.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀pairing: joe burrow x fiancee!reader.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀word count: 6.8k.

The kitchen was bathed in the soft glow of the hanging lights hanging above the island, casting shadows that danced across the marble countertops as yourself, Joe, and your best friend, Tamara, sat around the kitchen table. The aroma of a quick meal filled the air, mingling with the faint scent of Joe's cologne and the sweetness of the boxed cake mix they had shared. Your dark hair was pulled back in a loose bun, your blowout beginning to curl up again. You and Tamara listening intently as Joe spoke of his assistant's impending departure. Your eyes, a deep shade of brown, drifted in and out of the conversation as you thought about the pile of work waiting for you at your office in downtown Cincinnati.

You just barely heard Tamara suggesting her cousin as a replacement. Tiffany, who was studying Marketing at the University of Cincinnati, had grown closer to her older cousin in her time in school despite the age difference between them. "She's been looking for an internship or something part-time," she said, hope sparkling in her voice. "It's tough out here, and she's really good with people."

Joe looked at you, who nodded in approval, half listening and trusting your best friend’s endorsement. "Send her my way, T," he said, smiling. "I'll set up an interview."

The following week was a blur of phone calls and emails as Joe prepared for the interview. Your schedule was packed with work, and Joe was buried in his season commitments. Your paths rarely crossed outside of brief moments at home, leaving your newly purchased house feeling more like a rest stop than a shared home.

When the day of Tiffany’s interview finally arrived, Joe was surprised by her poise and professionalism. She walked in dressed sharply, her confidence radiating in the room. Despite her youth, she spoke with the eloquence of someone who had been in the industry for years. Her references were impeccable, and her career goals were admirable. He had no doubts that she would be a valuable asset to his team.

You met Tiffany for the first time in the kitchen the morning after she started. The young woman's enthusiasm was palpable, but you couldn't shake off the nagging feeling that there was something not quite right with her demeanor. Tiffany's eyes lingered on Joe a little too long for your liking, and her smile was a bit too wide when he spoke to her. You shook yourself out of her skepticism and chalked it up to nerves and excitement about the job. You had to admit, after all, that Tiffany was a breath of fresh air. She was excellent in keeping up with Joe’s schedules and appointments, helping to shoulder some of the burdens he dreaded about his career.

The next few weeks passed in a whirlwind of game days and late-night reheated dinners. Your business was thriving, and Joe's season was on an upward trajectory. Yet, amidst all the success, there was a worrying feeling that something was off-balance. Tiffany was always there, a constant presence that seemed to hover closer to Joe than necessary. You tried not to let it get to you, but you couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy every time Joe laughed at one of Tiffany's jokes or thanked her for handling something simple so efficiently.

You stood over your side of your twin sinks, your coils pushed back from your forehead as you completed your skincare routine. You felt a gentle nudge as Joe leaned against you, his reflection in the mirror showing the exhaustion etched into his features. It was 10 PM, way past Joe's bedtime, but you appreciated the effort he was showing to take advantage of what little time you could spend together.

"So, I've got a dinner tomorrow," he began, his voice a soft rumble in the quiet bathroom. His strong arms wrapped warmly around your waist. "It's a sponsor thing. Nothing crazy, no cameras. Just dinner and a few schmoozes."

Your eyes met his in the mirror. "You want me to come?" You tried to keep the hope out of your voice, but it crept in regardless.

"Yeah. I know you've been slammed with work, but I'd love it if you could come. It's at the Kinley downtown. They have that amazing tiramisu you love." Joe's smile was boyish, and your heart melted at the thought of a rare date night.

The last time you two had been to the Kinley was the night of your engagement three months ago. That famous tiramisu had been delivered to your suite to accompany a bottle of champagne after the hotel manager heard the city's star quarterback was celebrating an accepted proposal. It had been a night filled with laughter and love, and you couldn't help but hope for a similar experience tomorrow.

"Okay, I'll come," you said, turning to kiss him. "But only for the tiramisu."

Joe chuckled and squeezed you tightly. "Whatever it takes to drag you outside with me." He kissed the top of your head before reaching for his toothbrush. "But promise me you'll wear that dress I like, the white one."

You rolled your eyes playfully. "The one that never makes it through the door before you're trying to get it off me? That one?"

Joe grinned, his teeth flashing in the bathroom light. "You know the one."

The morning light streamed through the blinds, creating a checkered pattern across your bed. Your eyes fluttered open, the promise of the dinner date lingering in your mind. You felt Joe's warmth beside you, his even breaths a comforting soundtrack to the start of your day. As you slipped out of bed and into the shower, you couldn't help but feel a spark of excitement for the evening ahead. Joe was gone from his side of the bed when you returned from her shower, his deep voice carrying from the kitchen as he laughed over the phone with Ja'Marr.

As you got dressed to leave for work, you heard the doorbell ring. You didn't expect anyone, but Joe's voice grew louder as he spoke to someone at the door. You made your way downstairs to find Tiffany, dressed in a sleek casual outfit, her hair slicked down perfectly.

"Morning, you two," she chirped, her eyes lighting up at the sight of Joe. You felt a flicker of irritation but pushed it aside.

"Hi, Tiffany," you said with a forced smile. "I can't believe your boss got you over here so early."

Tiffany's eyes darted to Joe before returning to you. "Oh, it's no trouble. I just wanted to make sure everything is set for tonight. Joe said I could tag along to the dinner. You know, for networking and all."

Your smile didn't falter, but your stomach did a flip. "Networking? At the Kinley? Downtown? Tonight?" You couldn't help the searing glare you shot towards Joe who remained wrapped up in his own little world. Completely oblivious to the dissatisfaction on your face. 

You had to admit that you had hoped for a more intimate evening with Joe, but you had no desire to be rude. "That's a great opportunity, Tiffany. It'll be good to make some business connections in the city."

Joe looked between you, blissfully unaware of the tension between the two women. "You're right, babe. Tiffany's going to be graduating soon, and she needs all the help she can get." He gave you a kiss on the cheek, a hand reaching to cradle your waist. "Don't worry, I'll try to keep the business talk to a minimum."

You nodded, trying to keep your emotions in check. You didn't want to ruin your night with a petty argument about his assistant. After all, Joe had done so much to support you, especially with putting up with your late work hours recently.

Tiffany grimaced as Joe's hand lingered on your waist, nuzzling his face into your neck. "Right," she murmured. "I'll just grab my laptop and get to work." She reached into her laptop bag, and you couldn't help but feel a pang of annoyance at her reaction. You had agreed to come to the dinner to support Joe, not to play chaperone.

The day passed slowly, a mix of business meetings and working through the massive to-do list from your secretary leaving you with little time to dwell on the evening's potential awkwardness. When you finally returned home to get ready, you found Joe in your closet, half dressed in a sharp suit that hugged his muscular frame. His eyes lit up at the sight of you, and you had to admit that you felt a spark of excitement at the prospect of a night out with him.

"Joe, did you think Tiffany's energy was off this morning?" You asked as you stepped into the walk-in closet to choose your outfit.

Joe looked up from his phone, presumably texting his stylist, his brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"

You emerged from the closet wearing the white dress he had requested, your eyes meeting his in the floor-length mirror. "She just seemed... eager."

Joe shrugged, his tie now hanging loosely around his neck. "Eager to network, you mean? That's what she's here for, babe." You nodded, trying to convince yourself that your jealousy was unfounded. You reached up to do up Joe's tie for him, your hands trembling slightly. As you stepped back to admire your work, he pulled you into a tight embrace.

"You look amazing," Joe whispered into your ear, sending shivers down your spine. His hand cupped your cheek, his blue eyes sweeping over your face. "You always do, beautiful."

You felt a warm blush creep up your neck. "Thank you, baby." You kissed him lightly, trying to ignore the voice in the back of your head that whispered about Tiffany.

The drive to the Kinley was filled with Joe's stories from practice and Tiffany's chirpy interjections about the inside jokes they built up over the weeks she had been working for him. You listened politely, but your mind was elsewhere, planning how you could make the most of this evening. You didn't want to spend the entire night watching Joe work the room with his assistant by his side.

Once you arrived at the luxurious hotel, the valet took Joe's car, and the three of you stepped into the bustling lobby. The air was filled with the sound of clinking glasses and laughter, a stark contrast to the quiet tension between yourself and Tiffany. You took a deep breath and slipped your hand into Joe's, reminding yourself that this was your night, despite the third wheel.

The dinner was a mix of business moguls and sports celebrities. Your eyes scanned the room, searching for a friendly face. You spotted a few local influencers from your business’ social media following, but you were already engaged in your own conversations. The grand ballroom of the Kinley Hotel was a sea of unfamiliar faces, all dressed to the nines and seemingly at ease. The three of you made your way to the table reserved for Joe and his two guests.

Tiffany was already scanning the room, her eyes lighting up as she recognized a potential networking opportunity. "Oh, there's Dr. Simpson from the university," she exclaimed. "I've been dying to talk to him about an internship."

Joe nodded, his gaze following her as she gracefully excused herself. "Go for it," he encouraged, offering her a kind smile. "I'll grab us some drinks."

You watched Tiffany weave through the crowd, an eager bounce in her step. As Joe returned with an espresso martini for you and an iced tea for himself, you couldn't help the sinking feeling in your stomach. You took a sip of your drink, trying to push the negative thoughts aside.

The evening progressed with Joe being pulled into conversation after conversation, leaving you to sit alone at the table. You checked your phone for the millionth time, scrolling through social media to keep yourself entertained. You were in no mood to schmooze with influencers and their sugar daddies, your work had already left you with minimal energy. The chandeliers above cast a warm glow over the room, and the clinking of silverware against china filled the air. You felt out of place, a fish out of water.

Your eyes followed Joe as he charmed a table of investors with a story about a recent game-winning play. Tiffany hovered at his side, a knowing smile playing on her lips as she subtly touched his arm, prompting him with information or a well-placed joke. You felt a knot tighten in your stomach as you watched Joe's assistant monopolize his time.

A server approached with a tray of hors d'oeuvres, and you finally gathered the will to stand and mingle. You recognized a few faces from your own business circles, but the conversations felt forced, the words sticking in your throat as you tried to maintain a cheery facade. With each passing minute, your frustration grew. This wasn't the romantic evening you had hoped for; it was just another work function for Joe with an unwelcome plus-one.

Tiffany reappeared at Joe's side, her laugh a tinkling sound that seemed to carry across the room. You felt a twinge of annoyance at her ease, the way she moved with confidence and charm among these powerful individuals despite her lack of experience. You couldn't help but wonder if Joe had noticed the flirtatious glances she kept casting his way.

"Babe, you okay?" Joe asked, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder as he took a seat beside you. His brow was furrowed with concern, and for a moment, you felt guilty for your jealous thoughts. You forced a smile and nodded. "Just a little tired," you said, playing off your discomfort.

But Joe wasn't buying it. He leaned in close, whispering, "What's going on, sweetheart?" You took a deep breath, the scent of his cologne calming your nerves slightly. 

"It's Tiffany," you confessed.

He frowned, glancing over at his assistant. "What about her?"

You took a moment to gather your thoughts, wanting to choose your words wisely. "It's just... she's all over you, Joe. And it's so fucking weird. She's supposed to be here for business, not to flirt."

Joe's eyes widened in surprise. "Flirt? She's not flirting with me." He leaned back in his chair, his gaze drifting to where Tiffany was now engaged with a group of businessmen. "Babe, she's just doing her job. Networking."

You felt a spark of frustration at his dismissal. "It's more than that, Joe. I can feel it." You took a deep breath, trying to keep your voice low and steady. "I don't want to ruin your night, but I can't ignore how uncomfortable this is making me."

Joe studied you for a moment, his expression a mix of confusion and concern. But before either of you could say anything else, Tiffany came gliding back over, a triumphant smile on her face. "Joe, I've got a meeting with Dr. Simpson next week. He's interested in discussing some marketing strategies for the university's athletic program. You're a genius for bringing me here!"

Her eyes flicked to you, who offered a tight smile in return. "Congratulations, Tiffany," you said through gritted teeth. "You're doing a fantastic job." The words were perfectly sweet, topped off with a gentle lilt as you stood up from your seat. Your hands smoothed over your dress before pushing the chair back in. "But if you'll excuse me..." you trailed off, making your way through the crowd of people without a backward glance.

Joe's hand reached out to grab yours as she passed, but you slipped away. He watched your retreating figure, the frown on his face deepening as he realized he had a situation to handle. "I'll be right back," he told Tiffany, who nodded, her eyes tracking your exit with an odd expression that was not lost on Joe.

He found you in the quiet hallway outside the ballroom, leaning against the wall, your eyes closed. "Hey," he said softly, approaching you. You didn't open your eyes, but you didn't flinch either, which was a bad sign.

"Hey," you murmured, your voice low and tired.

Joe stepped closer, placing a gentle hand on your arm. "Babe, what's wrong? I don't like seeing you like this."

You took a deep breath, opening your eyes to meet Joe's concerned gaze. "It bothers me Joey, the way she acts around you is so fucking weird. And you're not even picking up on it." Your voice was laced with a hint of anger, but the exhaustion from your long day was clear.

Joe sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Look, I don't know what you're talking about. If you're uncomfortable, I'll talk to her," he offered, his voice sincere. "But she's been nothing but professional with me, sweetheart."

You looked at him, your eyes squinting in disbelief. "Joe, she's been all over you since she started working for you. That’s not professional."

He frowned, clearly confused. "Babe, she's just trying to do her job. She's young, eager to impress. It's not what it seems."

You pulled your arm away, your voice rising slightly. "Why would she need to impress you by flirting with you? She's your assistant, not a contestant on a reality show."

Joe's expression darkened as he took in her tone. "Babe," he warned slowly. "You're being dramatic."

But you were beyond caring. You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms with a huff, "Joe," you said, your voice a mix of exasperation and sadness. "You're so blind. She's obviously into you."

Joe's jaw tightened. "Look, if you need attention, I can give you attention." He offered his hand for you to take, his patience wearing thin.

You stepped back, the coldness in his voice cutting through the warmth of the room. "Is that what you think this is about? Attention?" You threw your hands up in frustration. "This isn't a game, Joe. This is our relationship!"

The music and laughter from the ballroom seemed to fade away as you faced each other, your words echoing in the quiet hallway. The silence between you seemed to stretch on for hours. Neither of you were willing to back down. 

Finally Joe took a step closer, his eyes searching yours. "I miss you." He hummed as a hand reached for your hip, pulling you closer to him. "It's been a month since we’ve done anything just the two of us."

Your eyes searched his, the frustration slowly melting away as you gave in. "I miss you too."

Joe's gaze softened, and he leaned in to kiss you. It was gentle at first, a sweet promise of comfort and reassurance, but it quickly grew into something more urgent. A month's worth of longing and tension poured into that kiss, and suddenly, the hallway didn't feel so cold anymore. Your knees practically buckled under his touch, his hands grasping at your curves with a hunger you missed so desperately.

"I need to feel you," he murmured against your lips, his hand sliding around your waist.

You felt a thrill run through you. You knew Joe wasn't the type to act on impulse like this, but you couldn't deny that a part of you craved this passion from him. You had been so busy, and this raw passion was a stark reminder of why you were together. You leaned into him, the heat from your bodies melding together.

"Baby, not here," you whispered, though your voice was laced with want. You didn't miss the twinkle in his eye as he glanced down the hallway.

"Come on, let's go somewhere private." He took your hand, leading you away from the ballroom's prying eyes. You stumbled into an empty bathroom, the door clicking shut behind them. The tension between the two of you crackled in the air as Joe's hands slid up your thighs, pushing your dress up. You gasped as his mouth found your neck, his kisses leaving a trail of heat.

In the dimly lit bathroom, your eyes locked in the mirror. The reflection showed a side of them that hadn't been seen in weeks—desperate and passionate. You gasped as Joe bent you over the counter, his hands roaming under your dress. The cool marble sent a shiver down your spine, but it was nothing compared to the heat between your legs. You didn't protest when he pulled your panties to the side, instead leaning into the sensation of his hand on your skin.

Joe's voice was a gruff whisper in your ear. "Do you want me to stop?" His thumb traced a tantalizing circle around your clit, and you bit back a moan.

"No," you breathed, your eyes fluttering shut. "Fuck me."

With a grunt, Joe complied, his hand moving away to unbuckle his pants. He was already hard, his cock pressing against your ass as he lined himself up. He slammed into you without much prep, and your moan echoed in the tiled room. You gripped the edge of the counter, your breath getting caught in your throat as he began to thrust into you. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the air, mingling with the distant laughter and clinking glasses from the dinner.

Your movements grew more erratic as you both gave into your desires. Your heels clicked against the marble floor with every thrust, the sound bouncing off the walls. Joe's grip tightened on your hips, his breath hot on your neck as he whispered dirty nothings that made your toes curl. It was a stark contrast to the elegant evening gown you wore, now hiked up around your waist, and the fancy hotel bathroom you found yourself in.

"Harder," you moaned, your voice thick with desire.

"Yeah?" Joe questioned, his grip tightened on your hips, his rhythm quickening as he drove into you. The bathroom's sterile scent was overpowered by your mingled perfume and the scent of your arousal. The world outside the bathroom door faded away, replaced by the symphony of your panting breaths and the wet slap of your bodies coming together.

"Fuck, yes," you gasped, your eyes fluttering open to meet Joe's in the mirror. The sight of him, all muscular and intense, brought a new wave of arousal crashing over you. You felt the tension in your core tighten with every stroke, your body begging for release.

"I'm right here," Joe murmured, his voice a stark contrast to the urgent sounds of your lovemaking. His eyes held yours in the mirror, a silent promise that he heard you and that he cared. "You're all mine, baby. You're all I want. The only one."

You felt your body respond to his words, the tension coiling tighter, your orgasm approaching like a freight train. "Baby," you moaned, your nails digging into the counter. "I'm gonna come."

Joe's eyes darkened, and he thrust deeper, hitting that perfect spot inside you. "Come for me, sweetheart," he urged, his own breathing ragged. "You wanted my attention? You got it. Right here, right now."

Your body obeyed, shuddering with pleasure as she climaxed, your inner walls clenching around him. He groaned, his movements becoming more erratic as he chased his own release. The sound of your passion bounced off the marble walls, echoing through the empty hallway outside. It was a reminder of the passion that still burned between the two of you, despite the distance your busy lives had created.

You both came down from your highs, your breathing slowly returning to normal as Joe held you against him, your hands resting against the cool bathroom sink. "I'm sorry," you murmured, your voice still shaky from the intensity of your encounter.

Joe leaned in to kiss your neck, his breath warm against your skin. "Don't be. We both needed this." He pulled out of you gently, setting you upright to clean you up gently. You straightened out your clothes, trying to compose yourselves before returning to the dinner.

When you exited the bathroom, the tension between you had shifted. The awkwardness was gone, replaced with a newfound intimacy and understanding. You held hands as you walked back to the ballroom, your eyes meeting in a silent promise that you wouldn't let your busy lives come between you two again.

As you re-entered the buzzing room, the first person you saw was Tiffany, who was chatting with a group of people. Her eyes immediately darted to your joined hands and hazy eyes. You felt a smug satisfaction at the slight flicker of jealousy in the assistant's gaze. But you pushed the thought aside, focusing instead on Joe and the rest of the night ahead of you.

Joe steered you to your table, and you noticed that the dinner had progressed to dessert without you. The other guests were engaged in lively conversations, oblivious to the passionate interlude the two of you had just shared. You couldn't help but feel a bit rebellious, a bit wild, knowing that while everyone else was munching on chocolate tiramisu, you had just been properly fucked by your fiancé in the bathroom.

You sat down and picked at your desserts, Joe occasionally squeezing your hand under the table. The rest of the evening passed in a blur of small talk and forced smiles, but you couldn't shake the feeling that Tiffany's eyes kept finding you, lingering a second too long on the lean into each other or the occasional kiss you shared.

As the dinner wound down and guests began to disperse, Joe leaned in, whispering, "Let's get out of here." The excitement in his voice was palpable, and you found yourself smiling genuinely for the first time that evening.

"What about Tiffany? She's not ready to leave," you whispered, glancing at Joe's assistant who was still deep in conversation.

"She's a big girl," Joe said with a firmness in his voice that made your stomach flutter. "We need some time alone."

"Joe," you warned, your voice a mix of amusement and concern. "You can't just leave her here."

He leaned closer, his breath tickling your ear. "Why not? She's a smart girl, she can handle herself."

You rolled your eyes but couldn't help the smirk that played on your lips. "Fine. But you're telling her we're leaving."

Joe leaned back in his chair, his own smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "My pleasure." He stood, his movements graceful despite his towering height. He approached Tiffany, and you watched as he tapped her on the shoulder. The young assistant's smile faltered when she saw who it was, the new glow in his features unmistakeable.

"Tiffany, we're heading out," Joe said, his voice firm but not unkind. "I know you're not ready to leave yet. But when you are, just order an Uber. It's on me, you can Venmo me in the morning."

Tiffany's expression tightened, and she nodded, trying to play it cool, but the sting of being ditched was clear in her eyes. You felt a twinge of guilt, but you couldn't bring herself to care much. Like Joe said, she was a smart girl, and it didn't take much to see the sexual tension floating between an engaged couple.

The two of you made your way through the lobby, giggling to each other as you tried to slip out under the radar. An older man passed by, giving you a knowing smile. "Looks like the night's just getting started for you two," he said with a wink.

Joe's arm tightened around your waist as he replied, "You could say that," with a mischievous grin. "I'm taking my wife home." The man chuckled before continuing on his way, leaving you to your own devices.

"Wife? Already?" You teased, your eyes sparkling with mischief. “I was promised another ring, Mr. Burrow.”

"Might as well get used to calling you that," Joe said, a hint of possessiveness in his tone that sent a thrill through you. “The ring will come in due time, Mrs. Burrow.”

You stepped outside into the cool Cincinnati evening, the sounds of the city muffled by the plush hotel lobby behind you. The valet pulled up with Joe's sleek black sports car, and you couldn't help but feel like a teenager again, sneaking out for a date with your forbidden boyfriend. You drove through the city streets, the tension in the car thick with unspoken words and lingering passion.

Back home, you didn't bother with small talk. The moment you were through the door, Joe scooped you into his arms and carried you upstairs in a bridal carry to your bedroom. Your kisses were deep, your touches exploratory, as if you were discovering each other all over again.

"Joseph," you scolded as he tossed you onto the plush king-sized bed, your bodies tangling together as he followed you down. His broader, more muscular body covered yours completely. Your heart swirled with arousal at the thought of him towering over you, claiming you as his wife as he did earlier. 

He kissed you deeply, his hands exploring the curves of your body as if he hadn't touched you in years instead of just an hour. Your fingers danced over his chest, feeling the familiar strength beneath the fabric of his shirt, your desire for him growing with every beat of your heart.

"I think we have some unfinished business," Joe murmured against your neck, his voice deep and filled with desire as his hands continued to roam over your body. His mouth trailed hot kisses along your collarbone, making you arch into him with a gasp.

Your own hands found their way to his shirt buttons, eager to feel the warmth of his skin against yours. As the fabric parted, you could see the outline of his muscles, the result of countless hours of training and hard work. You ran your fingertips over his chest, feeling his heart race beneath your touch. It was a powerful reminder that, despite his rigorous schedule, he was all yours.

"Open those pretty legs for me," Joe groaned, his hands sliding down to grip your thighs, pushing your body up even further on the bed and tearing your panties away.

You eagerly complied, your heart pounding in anticipation as Joe's eyes darkened with lust. He kissed down your body, peppering your skin with kisses that left a trail of fire in their wake. When his mouth reached your pussy, you bucked your hips upward, desperate for his touch. His tongue slid along your slit, teasing your clit before delving deeper. Your moans grew louder, filling the quiet room, as he feasted on you, bringing you to the brink of another orgasm.

"Fuck, baby," you whispered as Joe's tongue swirled around your clit, bringing you closer and closer to the edge. You couldn't believe how much you needed this, how much you craved his touch after being entrenched in your busy life. Your body felt alive again, every nerve ending tingling with pleasure as Joe worked his magic on you.

"Yes, Joe," you moaned, your hips rocking against his face as Joe's skilled mouth brought you closer to climax. You felt him smile against you, the movement sending a fresh wave of pleasure through you. You were lost in the sensation, your body trembling as you reached for his hair, gripping the short strands in your fists.

"Yes, yes," you panted, your body writhing under Joe's relentless attention. His tongue was a masterful tool, bringing you closer and closer to the peak of pleasure. You could feel the tension building within you, your toes curling and your grip on his hair tightening as you approached your peak.

"I'm gonna come," you warned, your voice breathless. "Baby, please don't stop. I need you so bad."

Joe's only response was a low growl of approval, his mouth working faster as he felt your body tense beneath him. He knew you were close, he could taste it in the sweetness of your arousal. With one final, lingering lick, you shattered, your body convulsing with the force of your orgasm. Joe looked up at you, his eyes gleaming with pride and lust as he watched you come apart in his arms.

You collapsed back onto the bed, panting and trembling, your eyes fluttering shut. Joe didn't waste any time, quickly shedding his own clothes before sliding between your legs. He positioned himself at your entrance, his cock thick and hard with desire.

"Look at you," Joe murmured, his voice thick with lust. His eyes traced the lines of your body, taking in every inch of you like it was the first time all over again. "So beautiful, all mine. Never seen anyone so fucking perfect."

You felt your body warm at his words, your eyes snapping open to meet his. "Joe," you whispered, your voice a plea for more as you felt him nudge against your entrance. He slid in slowly, filling you completely, making you gasp with the sudden fullness.

Your rhythm was slow at first, a gentle rocking that grew in intensity with every beat of your hearts. You wrapped your legs around his waist, urging him deeper, your nails digging into his back. Joe's eyes never left yours, the love and desire in his gaze setting you alight. You moved together in perfect harmony, your bodies speaking a language that only the two of you understood.

"Joey," you whispered, your voice strained with need as his hips rocked into you steadily. His thrusts grew stronger, more demanding. The bed beneath you creaked with the force of your passion, the only sound in the room your ragged breaths and the slick sounds of skin on skin.

Your voice cut off with a strangled moan as he hiked your thighs up higher. Your calves now rested on his broad shoulders, as your pelvises cushioned against each other. 

“What is it baby?” Joe questioned softly against your parted lips, your breaths mingling together in whispers of moans. “You know I’d give you whatever you need. Just ask.”

"Tell me you love me," you breathed, your eyes locked on Joe's. 

His pupils dilated, and he leaned in, pressing his forehead to yours.

"I love you, beautiful. So fucking much," he growled, his voice a mix of passion and frustration at the same time. "You're mine, and I'm yours. No one else." His words were punctuated by his hips, driving into you with a ferocity that mirrored the emotions churning within you.

"Only yours," you repeated, your voice a breathy whisper as Joe's cock slammed into you, each stroke hitting a spot deep inside that sent you spiraling towards another climax. The words resonated within you, a departure from the insecurity that had plagued you earlier in the evening.

"Fuck, Joey," you moaned, feeling the pressure build inside you once again. Your nails dug into his back, urging him to go harder, faster. "Don't stop, baby, don't ever stop."

Your movements grew more frantic, the passion between you a live wire, sparking and crackling in the air. Joe's muscles bulged with effort as he drove into you, each stroke hitting deeper than the last. The room grew hazy with lust, the only reality the feel of your bodies joined together.

"I don't want you to ever doubt how much I love you," Joe said through gritted teeth, his eyes stuck on your pleasure-ridden face. He pushed into you, each thrust a declaration of his love and ownership. Your eyes rolled back in your head as you felt the familiar tightness begin to coil within you for the third time that night. "Not when I'm with you, not when I'm at work, not when I'm around anyone else."

Your lovemaking grew more intense with every word, each one a promise that resonated through your soul. The feeling of him inside you was more than just physical; it was a reaffirmation of your commitment, a reminder of your bond. Your nails raked down Joe's back, leaving a trail of red in their wake. Your legs tightened around him, pulling him closer, as if you could somehow fuse your bodies into one.

"I fuck you too hard?" Joe smirked, his voice strained as he felt your tight grip on him. He knew you were close, your breath hitching in your throat, your eyes screwed shut with pleasure.

"Too good?" He continued his relentless pace, his hips slapping against yours. You could only nod, your mouth forming a silent "yes" as you rode the wave of ecstasy. Your legs trembled around him, your body begging for more.

“Want me to fill you up, baby?” His mouth kept running as his voice became more strained with effort.

"Fuck, yes," you gasped out, your eyes flying open to meet Joe's intense gaze. You could feel your orgasm building, your muscles clenching around his cock. The way he filled you, the way he claimed you with every stroke, it was more than you could handle.

"How could you ever doubt me baby?" Joe whispered in your ear, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine as he drove into you even deeper. 

His lips found your neck, biting at the soft flesh and soothing the pain with the flick of his tongue until you were squirming beneath him. "How could you doubt me when this good cock is just for you, huh?"

Your eyes rolled back in your head as another orgasm ripped through you without warning, your body tightening around Joe's cock. He groaned, feeling your pussy pulse with pleasure as he picked up the pace, driving into you faster and harder. The sound of your bodies colliding filled the room, the bed shaking beneath you as you both gave yourselves over to the moment.

Joe felt his own release building, the pressure at the base of his spine growing with every stroke. He leaned down, capturing your mouth in a bruising kiss, your teeth clashing together as you lost yourselves together. He could feel your pussy clench around him, milking his cock, and with a struggle of a moan, he came, filling you with his warmth.

For a moment, you two lay there, panting and trembling, your hearts racing. Then Joe pulled out of you, collapsing beside you on the bed. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close as you both fought to catch your breaths. You felt his heart thud against your chest, the steady beat a reassurance of his love and commitment.

"You're so fucking beautiful when you come," Joe murmured, his voice still thick with desire as he kissed the side of your neck. You couldn't help but smile, feeling a warmth spread through you that had nothing to do with the aftermath of your lovemaking. 

Moments later, you leaned back into his broad chest as you soaked in the warm water of your bathtub. Your bodies tangled together, the only sound your ragged breaths and the occasional whisper of love and reassurance. The tension from earlier had melted away, replaced by a comfort and closeness that you hadn't felt in weeks. You knew your schedules were hectic, but moments like these reminded you why you had agreed to marry Joe in the first place.

"You know I don't doubt you, Joe," you murmured against his shoulder, your voice sleepy with satisfaction. "Tiffany's behavior today was weird. And I felt guilty about my feelings and I took it out on you."

Joe sighed, his arms tightening around you. "I’m sorry we’ve been so distant, baby. I'll talk to her. I hated seeing you so upset." He kissed the top of your head.

"Thank you," you mumbled, snuggling closer to him. Despite your exhaustion, you knew that talking about Tiffany had brought the issue back to the surface. But Joe's embrace made you feel safe, and you allowed yourself to relax into the comfort of his arms.

"It's not just her," Joe began, his voice serious. "I know I've been distant, with the season and everything. But you're my priority, always." His fingers traced lingering patterns into your ribcage under the water. "I don't want anything to come between us."

Your heart swelled at his words, his voice devoid of any sign of doubt. "I know you don't," you said softly. "We'll do better, baby. I know we can."

Joe nodded, a serious look crossing his features. "We will. I promise." He leaned in, placing a gentle kiss on your temple. The silence was a welcome comfort, the weight of your promises lingering in the air.

[folkloresthings]

Hello darling I have a request from prompt ‘we were supposed to be just friends’. Lando x fem!reader, she work as legal for McLaren, they met at the McLaren technology center, and from the begging they had this special bond. During a party in a disco in uk with his friends, he stay very close to her and try to kiss her. After a sec of confusion, they kissing each other.

❛ ARE WE STILL FRIENDS? ❜ ❨ lando norris x reader ❩

where lando has loved the mclaren legal officer from the second he set eyes on her and has finally decided to do something about it.

eight months out of university and working in a coffee shop was not exactly how you had pictured your life post-graduation. you had a law degree from one of the best schools in england, but all it was doing was gathering dust on a frame in your living room. nights were spent in front of the television, only half paying attention, with your laptop screen lit up with job postings. it was like the four years of knowledge was itching to be used, instead of idle hands pouring overpriced iced lattes.

admittedly, you didn't remember applying for the job at mclaren. you were so desperate that you had sent your resume to every posting you could find, barely sparing a second glance at the job summary. it was only when they emailed with an interview date did you do your research. they were a formula one team, and a pretty good one at that. the sport had never much been your thing so you hadn't a clue what kind of work you'd be doing.

but it was work. legal work.

the interview went smoothly, then the second, and the third. they seemed to love you and your education. thankfully the internships you had done during university made up for your lack of experience. they hired you and had you come up to headquarters the next day. the drive from london to woking was full of jitters, turning your radio up to block out the nervous thoughts.

"ah, y/n! welcome to the mclaren technology centre." zak brown was the one to greet you by the front desk, with a smile and a firm handshake. you had spoken during your last interview, the final hurdle with the boss, and thankfully you got along fine. despite your age and greenness in the legal world, zak admitted he saw potential in you. they had gone through six other employees in the past two years for this position, all much older and more experienced. they needed a change.

"this is where you'll be working when you're in-office," zak explained, leading the way through a tour of the centre. it was much bigger than you expected, so modern and open. yeah, you could picture yourself here. "we usually would have you here one or two days a week, the others you can work from home. is that okay?"

"that's perfect," you agree, nodding happily. "i live in london, so the drive is only about an hour."

zak grins, continuing the tour and filling each space with small talk; your education, upbringing, hobbies. he only laughed when you sheepishly told him you knew very little about formula one, and didn't have a huge interest in the sport.

"you'd be surprised how many people here don't watch it," he chuckled, his american accent strange in the midst of the english countryside. "ah, speaking of. boys!"

in the foyer, at the end of the hall, two heads whip around at zak's call. both in the mclaren colours, one was thinner and smiling crookedly. the other, well. he was...

"lando, oscar, i want you to meet y/n. she's our new internal legal officer," zak explained. "meaning if you fuck up in any way, she'll have to deal with it."

the three men laugh, bringing your own bashful smile to wake.

"hi, i'm oscar," the thinner boy speaks in a soft australian accent, shaking your hand. "but it's lando here that you'll have to keep an eye on. i'm always on my best behaviour."

lando. he'd been staring at you since zak dragged you over to them, barely blinking despite for the odd laugh. he blushes then, gently nudging oscar with his elbow. he meets your eyes and his mouth goes dry, lips parting like a fish out of water as he tries desperately to think of something witty to say.

"don't worry, if you don't do anything wrong then i won't have anything to do," you jest, breaking the silence. a grin pulls at your mouth with the words, soon mirrored by the two drivers.

"i think i'd rather you didn't, then," zak scoffs, patting your shoulder. "go get settled, i'll come check on you in a while. boys, we've got that meeting in ten — c'mon."

smiling gratefully, you nod towards zak as he leaves — a silent thank you for his hospitality. oscar waves shyly, turning on his heel to hurry after his boss. lando follows suit, just about pulling his eyes from you, but only makes it a few steps before he's turning back.

"it was, uh, nice to meet you," he murmurs, clearing his throat. "hopefully i'll see you around."

biting at your cheek, holding back a small laugh, you nod. "hopefully."

lando finds himself grinning, walking a few yards backwards just to spare another minute looking at you. oscar calls for him and forces the teammate to hurry, shoes scuffing against polished tile as he catches up.

"stare much?" oscar asks him once they're side by side, a knowing smirk twisting upward.

"shut up," lando mumbles, but his own smile flickers. "she's pretty."

after that day, lando and you became close friends. he would sneak upstairs from briefings to bring you a coffee ("extra caramel, of course") and hide out in your office. he would vent to you about changes zak was, or wasn't, making with the car. you would confide in his about particularly stressful cases you would get handed. on days you weren't in the office, lando would text you pictures of him and oscar bored in meetings.

but the worst was race weekends. very rarely did you go along with the rest of the team, as there was little need for you there. if something went wrong, you could fix it from your desk in england. lando sent you updates from each city, everything from the track to sightseeings. you would often reply with a picture of your rainy window in central london and a sad face. and each sunday, you would sit up and watch the race with your fingers crossed. no matter the time, you were there. and when a race went particularly bad, you would wait up for the phone call from lando, needing a shoulder to lean on.

the staff at mclaren began saying you two were joined at the hip, partners in crime, so often not seen without the other. the best of friends.

"hey," lando chirped, knuckles rapping on your office door one friday morning. he had two coffees in his hand, as usual, perching both them and himself on top of your desk. "you going to the office party tonight?"

"open bar, free cocktails, seeing mark from marketing drunk?" you hummed thoughtfully, sipping at the hot drink. "you bet i am."

lando laughs, head thrown back slightly. the knowledge that you'll be there relaxes him, actually letting him look forward to the mandatory night out. "okay, good. i'll see you then."

"see you tonight," you call after him, watching until he disappears around the nearest corner. luckily, zak lets everyone go an hour early in account for the party starting at eight. you hurry home, sorting through every outfit option and getting ready as quickly as you can. the club was on the other side of london, at least forty minutes on the train, hence your rushing out the door with only one heel buckled.

inside of the club, completely booked out by zak for the company's pleasure, you realised just how many people worked in the world that was mclaren. legal was such a small part of it, a tiny cog in the whole machine. it was quite overwhelming, if it wasn't for the fact that you knew so many of the faces.

"y/n, hey!" the familiar sydney accent pulls your eyes to the nearby bar. oscar waves you over, smiling as you weave your way into a hug. "this is lily, my girlfriend."

you recognised the girl from pictures, but she was even prettier in real life. you exchange bright hello's, hugging in greeting while oscar orders you both some drinks.

"it's so nice to finally meet you!" lily beams, tucking her hair behind her ears. "i've heard so much."

curiosity peaks you, head tilted ever so slightly. "you have?"

"yeah, of course. lando is always—"

her words are cut short by a wide-eyed oscar, shoving in between you both to give you your drinks. "ha, hey! let's go sit, hm?"

your brows furrow, only more confused when lily shoots you an apologetic look. she takes your hand to lead you through the crowd to a booth at the other wall. amongst a few individuals you vaguely recognise, lando sits sipping a beer. he looks up when he hears oscar greet them, but his eyes instantly shoot to you.

"jesus," he mutters, quiet enough that only max next to him hears. you look absolutely stunning, your figure newly shown off by the little dress you have on. it falls to about mid-thigh, the rest of your legs accentuated by the heels you had on. your hair and makeup has been done a bit more than it would for work, and the sight has lando's stomach churning.

you squeeze in next to lily, across the table from lando. he can't tear his eyes away from you, even when max tries to strike up conversation. all you're doing is talking to lily, leaning over into each other to hear properly, face lighting up every so often with a laugh.

"so, that's who's had you so distracted recently?" max eventually catches lando's attention, watching his best friend's eyes widen. "she's pretty."

pretty? lando though. she was gorgeous.

"we're just friends," lando explains, shaking his head.

"bro, you've been staring at her like she's the only person in the room for the last twenty minutes," max laughs airily, nudging him. lando scoffs and rolls his eyes, but doesn't deny the fact. after another moment, you catch his gaze and smile softly. lando blushes, lifting his hand to wave slightly.

"okay, let's dance! this is my favourite song," max suddenly exclaims, standing up with a slap to the tabletop. a few follow suit, and you turn to lily with raised brows.

"oh, no," she shakes her head with a giggle. "i need at least two more of these drinks before you get me up there."

"well, drink up. i'll save you a dance."

smiling sweetly, you slip off of the seat to give her attention back to oscar. lando stands at the same time, smiling playfully when he looks at you. a hand of his stretches out and you can't even fathom denying it, slipping palm to palm and letting him drag you to the middle of the dance floor.

the song is drake or the weekend, something you don't really know, but the beat is so loud that you can feel it in the floor beneath you. falling into a rhythm, you giggle as lando begins moving with you. he sings along, but you don't recognise the lyrics, only the movement of his lips as his eyes shut. your chest thumps in time with the music, the heat of the people around you creeping onto your bare skin. the music mixes, changing into a melody you instantly know.

"i love this song!" you squeal, grasping lando's arms to shake them in excitement. he chuckles, watching on in admiration as you begin dancing again, reciting every single word to abba's lay all your love on me. your hands sneak down from his arms to his hands, forcing him to move along with you. he spins you around again and again just to watch your hair and dress float around you like magic, the lights of the club basking you in a heavenly hue.

somewhere in the midst of the second verse and chorus, lando feels his judgement cloud. he'd like to blame it on the beer, but he had only drank one, and he knew it was that usual intoxicating presence you carried around everywhere. your lips mould around each lyric, having listened to the song so many times (and your endless summer rewatches of mamma mia, as you once told him) that it was engraved on your memory. you looked perfect, the same as every day he snuck glances at you in the office or scrolled through your instagram late at night when he couldn't sleep for thinking about you.

you were it, for him. everything he loved and dreamed of, the only thing that had kept his feet on the ground this past season. and here you were, chest pressed to his thanks to the swarm of drunken guests, so close that he could smell your perfume and the shampoo from your hair. you had used a darker lipstick tonight, he noticed, unlike the usual clear balm you wore at work. it made you lips look even more soft than they normally do - he knew, because he spent a hefty chunk of his day staring at them.

abba fades out, along with the loud and out of tune singing filling the club, and all lando can think about is kissing you. it wouldn't be fair, for such pretty lips to go unkissed. and it wouldn't be fair on him, who has spent hours on end imagining how kissing you might feel, to let such an opportunity slip away from him.

so, he's tightening the hands that are already on your waist to pull you even closer, until there's not an inch of space left between you. his lips around rough, unmoving as they press against yours, eyes screwed shut and cursing the long seconds as he waits for your mouth to respond. eventually, he peeks through hesitant eyes to meet your surprise. your lips, colour smudged a little now from the contact, are parted and your eyes are wide. he can't discern what you're thinking, but he would bet it wasn't pure elation.

blame it on the beer, blame it on the beer, blame it on the beer.

his mouth opens just as all of his senses wire back in again, the end notes of the song just ringing out when he begins making his excuse. but your surprise and panic fills you so much that you can't breathe here, not with so many people around and lando's body heat still so close. stumbling, you push past him and everyone else that you meet to escape the busyness. the neon exit sign beckons you to the fire door, gasping when it opens and the fresh night air hits you.

thankfully, there isn't a soul to watch you and your flushed cheeks struggling for breath, and you wait until you hear the door shut behind you to fully relax again, frankly not caring if you lock yourself out. but the click of the lock doesn't come, only a familiar sound that crumbles you again.

"y/n—"

lando stands helpless in the doorway, eyes pleading for forgiveness when you turn to him. your head shakes, searching for something to say.

"i... you, what—” you struggle to grasp the right words, eyes squeezing shut. "i thought we were just friends?"

"we were! we are," lando corrects you quickly, striding towards you. "but that doesn't change the fact that i—"

"lan, please don't."

"— love you, y/n. i've been in love with you since your first day at work. how couldn't i be?"

his voice is smaller than you've ever heard it before, urging guilt into your throat until you have to swallow it back down. you make yourself look down at the ground, your heels and his sneakers facing each other, because you know you'll fall apart once you see those damned brown eyes.

"lando..." you murmur through a sigh.

"don't you feel it too?" he asks, desperately grabbing at your clammy hands. "us, me and you. it's right there."

you cave then, heart taking over from your mind, chin raised to look at him. lips turn into a frown, searching his lovelorn eyes for the moment he'll laugh and tell you its all a big joke. because he's lando, and you're just you.

"tell me that you don't, that there's nothing here," lando mumbles lower, gripping your fingers for dear life. "tell me this isn't real and i'll walk away. but — but i can't leave you if there's a chance."

your lips part with a breath, lips dry, and your sense screams at you to tell him no. that it'll never work, it's impossible. but something tugs in your chest and you realise something you had never wanted to admit to yourself: you loved lando norris.

"it'll be too complicated." you settle for excuses instead, chewing the inside of your cheek, wincing when you nick the flesh. "we have to work together, so if something happens then it'll mess everything up."

lando steadies your shaking head with his hands, one on each cheek, staring deep into your eyes. "what are you so scared of?"

you swallow, shoulders raising with each shallow breath. "i don't want to lose you. you're my best friend, the only person i can talk to. i don't want to mess that up."

your confession melts his heart, affection bringing his thumbs to graze across your cheeks. "i won't let that happen," lando promises, tongue sincere as can be.

you wait a moment, scouring his features before the trust solidifies. gently, tentatively, you search for the taste you barely got inside of the club, lips ghosting together. strawberry and beer mix on your tongues, hands wandering over body heat and mouths hungrily moving together like two teenagers in a back alley. only when breathless does lando fall from your lips, hands still steady on the round hips of your dress, keeping you close.

"i'll always be your best friend," he whispers like an oath, a boyish smile tugging at the corner of his swollen and lipstick-covered mouth. "but can we be best friends who do that, like, a lot?"

writer's note: wrote this in one sitting and may have gotten carried away but pls enjoy <3

[s-4pphics]

click! 1 (e.w.)

SYNOPSIS: you need a roommate, and you love eggplant. [college au]

WORD COUNT: 3.7k

WARNINGS: photographer/roommate!ellie, ocs an artist with a reputation :p, they’re both rude as shit, crack, all ocs are black coded yeeahhh yeah, awkward meetings, slut-shaming, brief cunninglingus, mention of eviction, smut later yall know tha vibes 

two. three. four.

A/N: short part just stay w me lemme cook... excited 2 write this lets get this shit yall

“W-What do you mean you’re moving?” 

Your roommate and best friend wrapped her arms around your neck, pulling you close. Tears flooded in your eyes as she whispered the daunting news, your heart cracking in your chest. 

“I’m moving soon, stink.” Too soon, according to her. She’ll be gone by next week. Amaya snickered sadly as she cooed in your temple. “It's for good reason, though.”

Your ears perk, a curious hum vibrating her shoulder. 

“I got that internship— “

All sadness melds into excitement for your favorite person. You leap into her arms with squeals of congratulatory joy, planting smacking kisses all over her squishy cheek. 

“Oh my god! You should’ve said that first, bitch! What the fuck!” You wipe your tears on her hoodie. 

Her laughter rattles through your neck, “I just found out after class! I almost got hit by a fucking bus reading the email.” 

Amaya sets you down, rambles about her new position as a songwriting intern spilling from her like an overfilled glass. Tears of joy flow from you and her as she retells every detail about her acceptance. She’s leaving in a week and a half and going farther than you thought. 

“Girl… you’re really moving to New York?” 

“Only for like… four months, max. But yeah… Boutta be on BET come next year— “

“Maya.” 

“Hm?”

“… I can’t pay rent by myself,” you whisper, cringing and embarrassed. 

You hate to ruin her moment, but you’re concerned; Living off campus isn’t cheap and moving in the middle of the semester is less than ideal. It’d be a fucking hassle, and — to be frank — you’re not a people person. 

People like having you around because you’re fun, sure. But your reputation isn’t what you hoped for it to be when you moved out of your dad’s place for school. You wanted to be recognized for your creativity, and while your professors never hesitated to praise your talents, your peers failed to see past the status that was placed upon you. 

Frankly, you’re deemed as a dumb whore, especially after your falling out with one of the campuses best softball pitchers. 

It wasn’t even your fault. One raunchy snap to the wrong person and people think you live for sex and sex only! Just when you think everyone is over slut-shaming… 

“You thought I was gonna leave you to fend for yourself? Guess what I did.” 

Oh God. “What?” 

She twiddles her fingers together villainously, “I may or may not have set up an application on the student homepage— “

The small glimmer of hope washes away, shoulders dropping, fingers coming up to massage your temples.  

“Maya…” You exhale, trying to keep calm, “You know those things don’t fucking work!” 

Roommate compatibility is a fucking scam. No one ever notes how they actually are in the application. You think you’ve found someone that’s clean, quiet, stays out of your space without permission and the next day you find dead roaches under your couch. College attendees have no idea what bleach is and it makes you sick. 

“Damn… you’re usually optimistic.” 

“I’m optimistic about good ideas. I’m gonna be living with a fucking freak from Craigslist, thanks a lot.” 

“C’mooon! You’ll be fine, babe, trust me.” Amaya wraps her arms around your neck once more, wetly smacking your cheek before turning to paddle to her room. “Plus, you’ll meet someone new!”

When you don't follow, she spins. She must’ve noticed your impassiveness, poutingly asking to help me pack? Tears overwhelm your ducts once more, quietly taking her extended hand as she leads you to her bedroom. 

DAY ONE of roommate searching began, and you were already prepared to move back in with your dad. Amaya had enough time to orchestrate the housing agreement with you, making sure to highlight some of your most important characteristics in a roommate. One of the main ones being cleanliness. Some form of organization. 

DAY TWO was easier… Someone finally made it to the in-person interview stage. They didn’t make it far, though; They wouldn’t stop smacking their gum and it drove you crazy. Back to square one. 

DAY SIX came around and you were losing hope; Why are frat boys applying to live with you? You’d rather jump into oncoming traffic than house with any of Abby’s annoying, dirty friends. You've seen their house on numerous occasions and it never fails to make your skin crawl. 

It’s DAY THIRTEEN, and Amaya’s gone. After the sobbing fit with your best friend at the airport earlier, you got back to work. 

DENY REQUEST. 

…

DENY REQUEST. 

…

DENY REQUEST. 

You sigh in exhaustion and lean back in your chair. If you don't take a break from your screen in the next five seconds, your eyes will bleed. 

Why are people… so odd? 

The number of applications you’ve had to deny in the last week is criminal; Why are cis-het men continuously filling out applications knowing they’re not welcome in your space?! 

Even the people that made it to the in-person interview stage are incapable of being… not strange. You’d rather die than live with someone who collects dead maggots in mason jars (yes, you did almost call the police when they described their fascination with death in depth)!

All you need is one fruitful application with an identity to match! Just one. 

Amaya still calls from New York whenever she has a moment of peace to see how the roomie-search is going, but you can’t ignore the sadness that fills your heart every time she misses a call. Her laughter is gone, and your day-to-day life feels empty. 

They’re already working your bestie to the bone; You hope she can feel your encouragement from thousands of miles away. 

You scroll and click, scroll and click, scroll and deny deny deny until you pause, your eyes skimming over the application with a familiar name. 

ELLIE WILLIAMS. 

Ellie from stats, you instantly recognize. Curiosity perks and your brows furrow, sipping lukewarm tea as you skim over her contact information, her pet preferences, all the way down to her additional commentary. A snicker left at her blunt statement. 

temporary request. my last roommate moved and i’m poor. just waiting on this job approval. 

… Ellie in a nutshell. How relatable.

At least she’s not a complete stranger. Every interaction with her stirs in your mind as you jot her number down on a lone sticky-note. They were nothing special from your perspective: the two of you exchanging notes, her holding the door open as everyone scurried out of class, you asking for a pencil (and her asking for it back after the lecture), and you can’t help but wonder why she would want to apply to share a space with anyone, let alone you. 

She's only ever been described as standoffish by your peers. From the outside, Ellie’s blank. Flat tone, flat expression, plain appearance, and the fact that you never know what she’s thinking is unsettling. You’re thrown off your game whenever she’s near and you hate it. 

But the spot is temporary; Amaya will be back in a couple of months, and it seems Ellie’s leaving sometime soon by her small note. 

You down the rest of your tea and stretch where you sit, pondering. Trying to imagine Ellie in your space.

“I don’t know why I can’t take Maya’s spot. I’d make an excellent roommate.” 

Your expression flattens, glare piercing through your good friend. 

Abby scoffs, “C’mooon! I mind my business...” She pauses, leaning across the table, nearly knocking your coffee over. Her whispers send a shock down your spine, “…and I give good head. I’m a package deal.” 

A brow raises. Abby’s sweeter than candy and she puts it down, but you already made the mistake of living with someone you fucked before, and you vowed to never do it again. If Amaya hadn’t given you a place to stay after the blow up between you and your ball-throwing sneaky link, you’re not sure where you'd be. Definitely not a student; The stress would’ve forced you to collapse. And drop out. 

“Sorry, stink. Not happening.” 

She rolls her eyes, “Whatever.” She takes a sip from her drink, “Can’t believe you’d let that freak in before me.” 

You pause. “You’re a freak, too— “

“I’m the good kind!” She searches like someone’s watching her, voice dropping to a whisper, “Ellie’s fucking weird, dude. When’s the last time you’ve seen her interact with anyone? A literal fucking NPC. All she’s programmed to do is stand and look.” 

“And give out pencils,” You interject with a snicker, “Who cares. I don’t like most of the idiots here, either. I barely put up with your ass.” 

Abby raises her glove-covered palms in surrender, “Fuck it. When I see an alert about a missing student, I’ll know who it is.” 

“You’re so fucking extra— “

DING!

Your neck cranes towards the opening cafe door, shock surging through your body at the sight of the NPC in question. Ellie silently stands at the back of the line, headphones secured on her head and nose red from the cold, classically bored expression plastered on her face. 

“Oh, this is hilarious,” Abby huffs, “Go greet your new housemate.” 

Another glare is sent in her direction, “Can you shut up? Her name’s not on any lease. I barely talked to her.”  

“Do it now, then. Triple dog dare you.” Abby smirks behind her cup. 

You sigh and raise from your seat, “You’re a cunt.” 

“The wettest. Go.” 

You flick her forehead before making your way over to Ellie, who’s mindlessly scrolling through her phone. Her sniffles get louder with each step you take, metal music blasting through her speakers. 

You tap her shoulder and she jumps, sliding one of her ear cups over to hear. 

“Hey, Ellie,” you smile politely. 

“… Sup,” she mutters hoarsely, turning her body towards you, eyes filled with… nothing. Expected. 

Silence passes, and you fill it, “I got your app yesterday. Just wanted to come and introduce myself.” 

“Alright.” 

More silence. You can see Abby out the corner of your eye, mockingly swiping her tongue between her index and middle finger. You flush and stutter, and Ellie’s staring like you have two heads. 

“I, uh… yeah. I’ve been having interviews with some people that submitted a form. You free sometime this week?” 

“Uhh…” She glances down at her phone. “Yeah. Around five tomorrow.” 

More silence. Fuck, this is awkward. 

“… Cool.” You pull your phone out and text her saved number, the alarm ringing from her phone. “That’s me. Just call before you stop by.” 

She nods and turns her back to you, cranking her music to full volume. You gawkily shuffle where you stand before hustling back to your table, Abby cackling to herself. You plop down and kick her under the table, but she laughs harder. 

“What’d I say!” 

“Not a thing,” You hiss, “She’s just a little awkward. It’s not that serious.” 

“Oh, yeah.” 

“Oh yeah what.” 

“She’s definitely your fucking housemate.” She tsks in disappointment before a smirk appears, her eyes darkening. “Can I eat it one last time before she moves in?” 

A jolt surges in your tummy, your hand closing into a fist. You kick her again and she giggles. 

Time passes as you and Abby’s conversation carries on like normal. Another ding rings through the coffee shop after some time, and you watch Ellie’s backpack bounce as she rushes down the sidewalk; Abby’s rambles about a soccer player she’s trying to smash sound like gibberish. 

Ellie has a Spider-Man charm and laminated polaroid latched onto her zipper. 

… Cute. 

You’re going to fail statistics over a random.

Your professor’s voice sounds like white noise; Every pause she takes is used as an opportunity to sneak glances at Ellie. None of your notes are useful; The doodles and sloppy scribbles are solidifying that incoming F, for sure. Only fifteen minutes until you’re out of here. 

She’s two seats down from you, jotting down whatever she deems necessary for the midterm. You didn’t even register her answering the professor’s question, her rosy lips curving around her teeth with each syllable. 

Ellie blinks slowly, twice, three times before her eyes lock with yours, brows furrowed, evidently confused at your gawking. 

Your stomach drops with your gaze, fingers curled tightly around your pencil. 

The lecture finally comes to a close as your thoughts flurry, wordlessly shoving your books into your bag. A light tap on your shoulder yanks your attention. 

Ellie stands before you, puffer cinched under the bands of her backpack and cheeks just as rosy as before. 

“Hey. Can we switch the time?” 

“Huh?” Don’t stare, don’t stare. 

She sighs, “The time for the interview. Can we change it?” 

You blink dumbly, “Uh… sure. To what time?” 

Agitation creases her brows. “Now. Something came up and I can’t miss it.” She pauses, eyes flicking awkwardly around the room, weakly adding, “If that’s okay.” 

“Um… yeah, no problem…” You peer at the clock on the wall, “You want a coffee?” 

A slight wince from her. “… Yup.” 

She clearly doesn’t by the way her fingers are anxiously tapping on her thigh, but you nod nonetheless, hurriedly grabbing your belongings and leading her down to the student lounge. 

“I don’t want you thinking this interview is one-sided,” You pray your gentle smile is calming the evident nerves of the freckled girl. “You can ask me anything you want, as well. If you have any concerns, any questions, shoot.” 

Ellie’s eyes are glued to her coffee cup, but her head bobs, expression void. Silence simmers between you. 

“I usually start these off with an icebreaker to get the jitters out! Just list three facts about yourself and I’ll follow.” 

Ellie’s lone hand comes up to scratch underneath her ear before meeting your gaze. Her eyes are so pretty; Too bad there’s nothing behind them. 

“Or I can go, sure, so!” Your hands clap together, “I’ll start with myself. I’m majoring in graphic design, I’m secretly a theater nerd, and I dream about owning an eggplant farm.” 

The girl before you clearly didn't expect that last statement. Her brows crease and the corner of her lip arches upward in a barely-there smile. Foreign to her face. 

“That’s not a fact,” She mutters, the shell in her pupils cracking. Just slightly. 

“Who cares, I love eggplant. Best vegetable by a landslide.” 

“Sike.” 

You scoff in disbelief, “What?” 

“Everybody on the planet knows that squash is god-tier— “

You squint, “Squash? Are you deadass?”

“It’s fucking versatile!” Ellie’s voice pitches higher, and your grin widens, “You can put it in everything and you don’t have to do much. Eggplant sucks up everything in the pan and still comes out soggy and tasteless— “

Choked laughter leaves your mouth, “If you don’t know how to cook, just say that.” 

Her mouth drops in exaggerated shock. “I know how to fuckin’ cook.” 

“Right.” 

“I do, what the he— “

“Fun fact about Ellie: she can’t cook!” You kiddingly sneer. She chuckles and shakes her head, tongue poking the inside of her cheek. You almost miss her statement, “I take pictures.” 

“Hm?” 

“I wanna be a professional photographer... At some point. I take pic— “

Ellie’s phone vibrates on the table and she leaps into action, snatching her bag from beside her and standing from her seat. 

“Wait— “

“I gotta go,” She mutters as she straps her bag around her shoulders. “Sorry. See you later.” 

Ellie throws some bills on the table before dipping, her phone pressed against her ear, rambling about making time. She barely touched her coffee. 

Could’ve been worse, you utter to yourself. 

Days pass, and you don’t hear from Ellie. 

When you saw her in stats two days after the interview, she hardly acknowledged you, morphing into the hermit that you knew her to be. You noted how tired she looked, though. You would’ve asked if she were okay if she hadn’t run out of class without a word. 

You’re weighing your options: allowing a random oddball into your apartment, or allowing a random oddball who hates eggplant into your apartment. Rent is due next week, and Amaya’s space is still vacant. 

At this point, the roster is almost nonexistent, and Ellie was the least concerning candidate. Despite Abby’s concern, she doesn’t seem like the type of person to bury dead bodies in the front lawn. 

“I dunno, friend. She’s a little weird. Getting mad incel vibes from her.” 

Your eyes roll back into your skull as you munch on cashews, “You’re getting vibes from someone you never talked to. She seemed cool at the interview.” 

“Yeah, 'cause vegetable debates are so note-worthy,” Amaya scoffs. 

She’s starting to sound a little too much like Abby, “I think y’all are forgetting that this is a temporary solution. I’m not tryna spend the rest of my fucking life with her! I need rent paid and she needs a place to stay for a few months.” 

Your best friend’s sigh drags through the line, “Alright… It seems like you made up your mind.” 

“Like I said, rent is due. I don’t have many options.” 

“Stop stressing. You found my replacement, apparently.” 

She pauses before hollering, “BITCH, IT’S SATURDAY! WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU INSIDE? WHERE’S ABBY?” 

“Out smashing soccer players.” You huff. 

“Damn… My fault.” 

“I’m chilling. I just need head.” 

“Go out! Find somebody!” 

You groan, “Then I’ll have to shave— “

“Nair exists, you bonehead! Just go! You keep calling in a bad mood and it’s getting on my nerves!” 

You ponder and glance at your digital clock. It’s not even ten… Abby did tell you that Kappa was throwing.

“I can hear the engines turning in your big head. Bye.” 

Laughter explodes from you at the dial tone. 

“Hey, Siri… call Abby.” 

“CALLING ABBY BIG DICK SLUT— “

Tonight has been a blur since you left your apartment. 

You remember making it halfway through Blam Boom before your speaker died, downing your last couple of shots of 1800, and Ubering to the location Abby pinged. 

It only took a few minutes for her to scoop you up onto the packed kitchen counter and shove her tongue in your mouth. One shout of I’m horny from you and she was yours for the rest of the night. 

Now you’re pressed up against some bathroom sink upstairs, Abby’s head shaking between your legs, your jeans and underwear flung onto the shower rail. Each flick of her tongue is both clumsy and precise, applying pressure exactly where you need it. 

Your clit’s throbbing under her tongue, the muscle igniting the flame in your tummy as your climax builds, zaps in your spine. Cries of her name meld with the booming music from outside, the walls rattling like nerves in your toes. 

Abby’s gorgeous under you, you know it, the drunk part of your brain knows it, your desperate cunt knows it, but you’re no longer thinking about her compared to earlier. Your mind is elsewhere, somewhere it shouldn’t be. 

You’re thinking of freckles. Green eyes instead of blue. Chapped, rosy lips, and you don’t know why. But you succumb to it. Ellie’s trapped underneath your eyelids, crowding your senses, your empty head suddenly full of images of her in any way you could conjure. 

Your orgasm shatters you, but you’re silent, trembling hand glued over your mouth as Abby groans in your cunt. She’s a doll, easing you back down to earth, dragging your underwear and pants up your shaky legs and getting you back home safely. 

When you’re showered and your teeth are brushed, she tucks you in, gently kissing your forehead. You beg her to stay with you, but she declines with I know how you get before silently departing. 

Your phone is squeezed between your fingers after minutes of trying to sleep, eyeing Ellie’s saved contact until darkness overtakes you. 

The pounding on your door is worse than the ones from inside your skull. Fuck Tequila, from the bottom of your heart. Waves of nausea crash over you with every waddle, hobbling your hunched form over to yank the front door open. 

A bored Ellie stands in front of you, a large camera and headphones hanging from her neck, seemingly cozy in her sweater and puffer, large duffel bags packed to the brim with clothes dangling from her shoulders. Your cheeks warm instantly. Gray sweats, gray sweats—

“I’m here,” She states plainly. 

“… Why?” You croak.

Ellie’s seems just as confused as you, her eyes piercing as if her appearance is obvious. 

“To move in.” 

“… Why?”

Ellie sighs and snags her phone from her jacket pocket, swiping a few times before nearly blinding you with her screen. 

Your jaw nearly hits the floor. When the fuck did you send that? 

“So, I’m here,” she slips her device back in her pocket. “Which room am I in?” 

“E-Ellie, uh… there's been a mis— “

“Look,” she holds her pale, veiny hands up. “I don’t wanna beat around the bush anymore. I got evicted and I need a place to stay until I secure this job. I’m willing to put down whatever’s needed for rent but I don’t have time to bullshit.” 

Ellie proceeds, sarcasm slipping, “Respectfully.” 

She pushes past your stunned form, bags accidentally brushing against your bare legs. You can't even move to stop her; You merely watch Ellie shuffle to inspect the living room, the small kitchen, pausing in front of the abstract painting you made for your dad before eventually moving down the hall and into Amaya’s empty space. How the fuck did she get in the building, anyway?

Your deer-like eyes lock with her void, mossy ones as she peers over her shoulder. 

“I still have some stuff to pick up. Please leave my key under the mat if you go somewhere.” 

Before she enters the empty room next to yours, you hear her gruffly say, “Leave the lease on the table so I can sign it, too.”

Amaya’s — Ellie’s door slams shut seconds later, the soft click of the door locking follows suit. 

��

What the fuck just happened. Gall almost surpasses your anger. The audacity...

For the first time, you’re grateful that your shift is in two hours. You need to get the fuck out of here before you cause a scene and catch a case. 

tagggiiiesss missed yall ;3 : @starologist @hrtmal @ohlawdthebirds @villainousbear @timmy-27 @inf3ct3dd @aouiaa @shurisbigtoe @emothurman @lonelyfooryouonly @imelliesgf @baumbii @brackishkittie @littletinyladybugs @r1miese @horror-whoree @elsbunny222 @elliesatchel @makemescreamel @lav3nd3rhaze @elliezflower @ellieloml @ellies-princess @saverdelrey @womenofarcane

[kai-uh-arcadian]

Inter(n)twining

synopsis: you’re an intern at JYP Corp, you get suddenly moved to a different floor and meet the woman of your dreams

cw: basically pure fluff, jealous Tzuyu, minor cursing, alcohol, grimey He*chul, please let me know anything else, also Tzuyu is like rich but it doesn't relate to the plot

word count: 4k

notes! hi! I hope you enjoy this!! It was sooo fun to write. I thought about this on my way to my own internship hahaha. Has anyone watched Queen of Tears? I referenced that one (<-watch it if you haven't!) scene in this that I thought was soooooo cute ahh~ anyways! Let me know how you feel about this or if you’d just like to chat. Love youuuu (:

You’d been interning at JYP Corp for about a month and a half now, and so far, things were pretty good. The people you met were okay, and while the work was definitely stressful, the fast-paced environment made the days fly by.

All in all, it wasn’t bad.

Well, almost.

Your floor boss, Heechul, was the one exception. He was in his early 40s, arrogant, and rude—those were the kindest words you could think of to describe him. You despised him secretly, but you were careful never to show it.

It was 9:20 a.m., and you had been at your desk since 7:30, typing up a last-minute report Heechul had dumped on you the moment you stepped through the office door. A report he honestly should have done yesterday.

“Get this done by 10, ’kay?” The way his smug grin appeared as your face faltered for a split second was permanently burned into your memory.

You mimicked his tone quietly to yourself while you made a face, “Get this done by 10, ’kay?” The bitter satisfaction of hitting ‘send’ on the email 40 minutes ahead of schedule almost made up for the annoyance.

“Hey, uh…”

Your heart dropped when you saw Heechul’s head suddenly poke over your cubicle wall.

Did he have super-hearing or something?!

You froze, horrified at the thought that he might’ve overheard your mocking.

“I’m so—” you began, your words stumbling out, but he cut you off without even glancing in your direction.

“Intern #5…” he drawled lazily, “someone on the 3rd floor got pulled into another project. They need someone to fill in for a 12 week case.” He flashed an indifferent smile as you exhaled the breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.

“Oh, okay. When do I start?” Not even questioning what you’d be doing for the next TWELVE weeks

“Hmm.. like now. Just grab whatever you need and head down there. Thanks!” And with that, he turned on his heel and walked away, leaving you blinking in disbelief.

What the hell. No details, no briefing? Just like that?

Grumbling under your breath, you grabbed your briefcase and stuffed your sparse desk items in it before making your way out the door and into the elevator. It wasn’t until you were inside that it hit you.

He didn’t even know your name. After over a month of interning, you were still just ‘Intern #5.’

“Ahh~ Seriously, fuck that guy…” you muttered to yourself as the elevator dinged, straightening your posture instinctively.

The third floor felt like a completely different world. The cubicles were laid out in a way that was the total opposite of what you were used to, leaving you standing there awkwardly, much like a worried puppy with the way your eyebrows furrowed.

After a few moments a soft voice broke through your thoughts. You turned your head to see a woman peeking out from her cubicle, you only needed to see half her face to realize she was stunning.

“Are you okay?”

“Oh! Uh, yeah… I was sent here to help out on the 12 week case,” you replied, rubbing the back of your neck. “But the layout is completely different from the 4th floor, so I’m a bit lost.”

She smiled warmly and stood up from her desk. “Oh! It must be the case I’m working on, my boss mentioned something earlier about another intern joining me so I think she is expecting you!  Her office is down that hall, last door on the left.” Using her long arms to point you in said direction. 

“Thanks a lot!” You started to walk away but paused, realizing you hadn’t asked for her name.

“Tzuyu,” she said with a smile, extending her hand.

“Y/n… Or, as my boss calls me, Intern #5.” You sighed with a small laugh, shaking her hand.

Tzuyu giggled softly. “I’m also an intern and I’ve heard stories about how he treats us. I think I can safely say Jihyo-nim is much nicer” assuaging your worries

As you exchanged smiles with Tzuyu, her warmth immediately calmed your nerves. You couldn't help but feel a sense of relief knowing you'd be working with someone friendly for once.

"Thanks for the heads-up. I'll try not to embarrass myself in front of her," you said with a small grin.

Tzuyu chuckled softly. "You'll be fine. She's really understanding—definitely not the type to make you feel like Intern #5," she reassured you, her voice playful.

With one last nod, you turned and made your way to Jihyo’s office, the nerves slowly creeping back in. You took a deep breath, knocked twice, and heard a clear voice from inside.

I really can’t deal with another Heechul situation

"Come in."

Opening the door, you found Jihyo seated at her desk, her space neat and organized but stacked with files. She looked up from her work and smiled brightly. "Y/n, thanks for stepping in on such short notice."

"No problem at all," you said, relieved she actually used your name.

Jihyo stood up and grabbed a folder from her desk. Jihyo motioned for you to sit. "The project we’re working on is a client case that’s been a bit tricky, but with the extra hands, we should be able to get things done faster.” She handed you the file to briefly read it over, “I’m assigning you to work on it with another intern, and I’ll walk you over to your station. You’ll be seated next to your partner."

You nodded, feeling your nerves settle. "Sounds great!"

Jihyo led you out of her office, down the hall, and toward a cluster of cubicles. As you approached, your heart skipped a beat when you realized she was guiding you right to the cubicle next to Tzuyu’s.

“Tzuyu, this is Y/n," Jihyo said with a smile as she motioned toward you. "You’ll both be working together on this case."

Tzuyu smiled warmly as she stood up. "Oh, we've already met!"

Jihyo blinked in surprise for a moment before chuckling softly. "Well, that’s perfect. That makes things easier." She gestured toward the empty cubicle next to Tzuyu’s. "Y/n, this is where you'll be sitting. Tzuyu’s already familiar with the case, so she’ll help you get caught up, and you two can take it from there. Let me know if you need anything, alright?" She made a slight notice how the tips of your ears were beginning to turn red before turning away.

"Thank you," you said, bowing before stepping into your new space and setting down your things.

As Jihyo left, you turned toward Tzuyu, a grin tugging at your lips. "Looks like we’re officially teammates."

Tzuyu nodded, her expression playful. "I guess that means I’ll be seeing a lot more of you."

"It seems so," you said, trying to keep your voice steady, though the idea of working closely with her made your heart flutter just a bit.

Tzuyu sat back down and gestured toward a stack of neatly organized documents. "Okay, let’s get started. I’ll walk you through what we were working on so far, and we can go from there."

You nodded, scooting your chair closer to her, your shoulder just barely brushing against hers as you both leaned in toward the table. The soft sound of paper flipping echoed against the steady lull of the room as Tzuyu began to explain the case, her voice was so calming. Her perfume—a subtle, sweet scent—seemed to linger in the air between you, and though you were trying to focus on her words, it was hard not to get a little distracted.

As she spoke, you couldn’t help but admire how composed and thoughtful she was, her long fingers moving gracefully over the pages. You found yourself glancing at her more often than the documents in front of you, drawn in by her presence. There was something undeniably captivating about the way she carried herself—poised, elegant, but still approachable.

“Do you understand it a bit more now? If not I can go over it again,” Tzuyu’s voice broke through your thoughts, and when you looked up, her eyes were already on you, curious. There was no judgment, just a soft smile that tugged at the corner of her lips.

You cleared your throat, trying to play it off with a grin. “Oh~! No, that’s okay,” you assuaged. “I’m just trying to process all of it”

She gave a small, knowing smile and turned her attention back to the documents. “Well, you're doing great, I know I just said a lot of words” she giggled, her tone soft but warm.

Over the last eight weeks, you and Tzuyu had gotten to know each other better. Your work together became a steady rhythm—casual conversations, shared laughs, and, to your delight, a shared love for music. It made the long car rides during company trips feel less like work and more like a comfortable escape.

One afternoon, while heading back to the office after a client visit, you caught Tzuyu quietly nodding along to a song from your playlist.

"You like Twice?" you asked, glancing over with mild surprise.

Tzuyu smiled, still looking out the window. "Yeah, I didn’t expect anyone here to listen to them."

"Same here," you chuckled. "You ever seen them live?"

Tzuyu turned her head, her smile growing. "Once, back in college. It was unforgettable."

"I’ve been meaning to for years but never got around to it," you replied. "Maybe next time they’re touring here."

"Maybe we can go together," she said, her voice was so forward yet soft, and the thought of seeing a concert with her lingered in the back of your mind long after the conversation ended.

That evening, after another long day, you found yourself staying late to finish some reports. Tzuyu had already called it a night, stopping by her neighboring cubicle as she prepared to leave.

"Hey, don’t stay too late," she said, offering a tired but warm smile.

"I won’t be long," you replied, stretching your shoulders. "I’ll see you tomorrow!"

"Good night, Y/n" she said, and with a soft wave, she headed out.

It was nearly an hour later when you finally finished up, the office almost eerily silent. You grabbed your things and headed out, only to find Tzuyu standing by the entrance under the building’s foyer, her arms crossed as she looked out at the rain pouring down.

You frowned, assuming she was waiting for the storm to calm down. "Seriously?" you muttered to yourself, amused that someone so seemingly put-together would forget an umbrella on a night like this. With a sigh, you walked over to her.

"Tzuyu, did you forget your umbrella?" you assumed lightly, a teasing smile on your face as you stood beside her.

Tzuyu turned toward you, blinking in surprise. "Oh, no, I'm just waiting for—"

"For the rain to stop?" You asked as you frantically put your stuff down on the concrete while taking off your blazer.

"You'll get sick if you try to walk home like this," you interrupted, pulling out your own red umbrella of your bag and pressing it into her hands while also throwing your blazer around her.

Tzuyu opened her mouth to respond, but you didn’t give her a chance.

"Here, take mine."

Tzuyu blinked, a bit taken aback. "But what about you?"

"I’ll be fine," you said with a reassuring smile. "The bus stop is just around the corner, and so I’ll be good. Besides, this umbrella’s way too nice to just be used in a short walk!"

Tzuyu hesitated, looking between you, the umbrella, and the pre-warmed jacket around her. She opened her mouth again, probably to explain, but you waved her off, already heading toward the street. "Seriously, don’t worry about it! It looks better on you anyway!"

Before she could protest, you were jogging away, flashing her a quick cheeky smile over your shoulder. "See you tomorrow, Tzu~!"

She stood there, the unopened red umbrella still in her hand and blazer around her as she watched you dart off toward the bus stop, your silhouette slowly disappearing in the fog of the heavy rain. Tzuyu glanced down at the umbrella, confusion flickering in her eyes.

“I .. have a driver..”

Just as she stood there, still processing what had happened, her driver finally pulled up, headlights cutting through the downpour.

"Miss Chou, I apologize for the delay—the rain's been causing awful traffic," the driver said, stepping out to open the door for her.

Tzuyu looked down at the umbrella again, momentarily lost in thought. "It’s okay, don't worry about it" she murmured, climbing into the car, the umbrella still firmly in her grip.

As the car drove off, Tzuyu’s thoughts drifted back to you—how you’d rushed off into the rain without a jacket nor without a second thought, stupidly smiling despite the storm, leaving her with your umbrella. She looked out the window as the bus drove off in the distance, watching your soaked form disappear from view, wondering about you, and why you so easily gave her the clothes off your back.

The next morning, when you arrived at the office, you saw Tzuyu already at her desk, the red umbrella propped up against your chair.

“Good morning Tzu!” You cheerfully greeted her while making your way to your respective space. 

She glanced up as you approached, her usual calm expression shifting to something more thoughtful.

"You know, you didn’t have to do all that last night," she said softly, as if she’d been thinking about it all morning. (she was)

You shrugged, giving her an easy smile. "I couldn’t let you walk in the rain like that. It’s just an umbrella and I bought that jacket from Amazon, no big deal! I’m glad you got home safe."

Tzuyu held your gaze for a moment, her eyes lingering on yours before she looked down. "Still… I appreciate it. I’ll give it back when it’s dry-cleaned"

Dry-cleaned?

"No it’s okay! Don’t worry about it," you replied, brushing off her concern with a wave of your hand. "It’s really okay!"

But as you settled into your seat, something about the exchange left an unspoken feeling between you both, small but undeniably there. You couldn’t quite shake it—the way her gaze lingered, it seemed like a quiet weight resting beside her.

And maybe, just maybe, that gesture meant more than either of you were ready to admit

Twelve weeks had passed, and you and Tzuyu had finally closed the case(successfully!) you’d been working on it for so long. It felt like a weight had been lifted, and both the third and fourth floors were buzzing with excitement. As the end-of-year office tradition dictated, Jihyo—and unfortunately, Heechul—organized a work dinner and drinks to celebrate the years successes.

Dinner started smoothly. Everyone was relaxed, conversations filled with lighthearted laughter and stories of the past few months. Tzuyu sat beside you, nursing her drink, her small, contented smile only adding to the warmth of the night.

But then, the drinks started flowing.

As the evening wore on, you noticed Heechul’s eyes repeatedly drifting toward Tzuyu. From the moment he saw her, it was clear what his intentions were. His predatory gaze, the same one you’d witnessed with other interns, made your blood simmer. He was so zeroing in.

Tzuyu, who was carefully sipping her beer, had stiffened as Heechul sauntered over with a smug grin, the two small glasses in his hand wobbling slightly from how much he’d already consumed.

“Hey, Tzuyu, right?” Heechul drawled, leaning on the table beside her. “Let’s do a love-shot. It’s for team bondinggg~” He flashed her a grin, his voice dripping with sleaze.

Tzuyu froze, glancing away uncomfortably. “I’m not sure if that’s a good idea, I don’t really drink..” she murmured, clearly looking for a way out.

“Oh, come onnn~!” Heechul leaned in closer, his body practically pinning her against the wall which happened to be your back. “Don’t be shy. It’s just one drink~!”

That was enough.

Without missing a beat, you stood from your seat, a little unsteady from your own drinks but filled with purpose. 

“Boss-nim, how about… you come here!” You feigned excitement while the whole tables’ eyes were on you two

In a few steps you guided him and you closed the distance, slipping Heechul away from Tzuyu smoothly, effortlessly blocking her from his sight with your body while wrapping your forearm around his.

“How about this, Boss-nim?” you said with a playful grin, your voice steady despite the alcohol in your system. “Why don’t we take that love-shot together!?”

You leaned in closer, one arm propped against the wall beside his head, the other smoothly taking one of the glasses from his hand.

Heechul blinked, visibly surprised but clearly intrigued by your boldness. His smirk widened. “Oh? I didn’t think you’d be so forward, Intern #5.”

God did you hate this man.

You internally rolled your eyes as you tilted your head, giving him a fake smile. “Why not? I’m a big team player, right? ” You clinked his glass, maintaining your position between him and Tzuyu.

Heechul's initial shock melted into something more. His grin grew cockier, but now with a hint of appreciation. He raised his glass, eyeing you with newfound interest. “Well, you’ve got guts, I’ll give you that.”

You turned out to the table of people watching, letting the tension simmer. “To teamwork! ” You said, your voice is just loud enough for your table to hear.

Heechul clinked his glass against yours, his gaze still locked onto you. “To teamwork,” he echoed.

You both threw back the shots, and while the burn of the alcohol hit your throat, you couldn’t help but hide a face of disgust at the sight of Heechul staring at you with a mix of admiration and something else entirely.

As you set your glass down, you noticed some of the female coworkers nearby watching you both, whispering among themselves.

“Wow, did you see that?” one of them murmured, clearly impressed. “She totally flipped the situation and helped that one girl”

“Right? That was so smooth. She’s got some serious charm.”

“I think Heechul-nim’s  into her now.”

“Hell— I’m even into her now! What’s her name?”

Their whispers weren’t exactly quiet, and the compliments floated through the air, filling the space around you. You caught snippets of their words, and even in your slightly tipsy state, you could feel the heat rise to your cheeks due to flattery.

But then, you glanced at Tzuyu. Her usually soft expression was tight, her eyes focused on the table, hands gripping her drink a little too tightly. She wasn’t saying anything, but there was something in her silence—something that felt like quiet jealousy.

Before you could process it, Heechul broke the moment by leaning in toward you with a grin. “I’ve got to say, Intern #5, you’re full of surprises.”

You chuckled, but there was no mistaking the sharp edge in your voice. “Gotta keep you on your toes, right boss-nim? Can’t let you make just anyone uncomfortable!” You said while slipping back into your seat

His laughter boomed through the room, seemingly laughing off that sly jab, the other colleagues joined in, you felt Tzuyu’s presence beside you, still silent, still reserved. You turned toward her, catching her gaze for just a brief moment, her eyes meeting yours before she quickly looked away, her expression unreadable.

Leaning down slightly, you whispered to her, “Hey, you okay?”

Tzuyu nodded, though her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Yeah, just... tired. Maybe I’ll head home soon.”

“Oh! Please, I can walk you home,” you suggested, voice slightly slurred from the alcohol but laced with genuine concern.

Tzuyu glanced at you for a brief moment, her face unreadable. “Alright,” she finally said, her voice soft but clipped as she grabbed her things.

You both bowed respectfully to thank everyone for the dinner before slipping out the door, the cool night air a stark contrast to the warmth inside.

The silence stretched between you as you followed behind her. Her long strides made it hard to keep up, and you couldn’t help but feel that she was walking with a certain purpose—like she was intentionally trying to get ahead of you while you were left following her like a loyal dog.

“Tzuyu-ya, what’s wrong?” you called after her, your voice slightly breathless as you struggled to close the distance. She kept walking, her pace unfaltering, and for a moment, you wondered if she was genuinely trying to avoid you.

“Tzuyu-ya,” you called again, a little louder this time as she reached the edge of the bridge near her apartment. In a moment of panic, you gently grabbed her arm to stop her.

She froze.

“I’m so sorry… did I make you uncomfortable? Did you want Hee—” you started to ask, words tumbling out in your haste to apologize. Your heart sank at the mere thought that maybe you had overstepped, that maybe she had wanted to—

“Yes! You made me uncomfortable!” Tzuyu interrupted, spinning around to face you, her cheeks flushed. Her eyes shone with an emotion you couldn’t quite place, but it wasn’t anger.

You blinked, shocked. “I’m sorry... I thought you were trying to get away from—” Trying to explain

“You were being too cute!” Tzuyu blurted out, cutting you off again, her face flushed even darker as she averted her gaze, clearly flustered.

Your eyes widened at her sudden admission. "W-What?"

“You were being charming... in front of other women!” she huffed, crossing her arms over her chest like a pouting child. “Why would you do that? Are you trying to attract them? It was too charming!”

It all hit you at once. Her awkward silence, her reservedness during dinner—it wasn’t because of Heechul, it was because of you. Even through the fog of alcohol, you suddenly understood.

You took a step closer to her, your heart racing. “Tzuyu, I—” you began, but her vulnerability was so palpable in that moment, it stopped you in your tracks.

Without thinking, you reached up, cupping the right side of her face with your hand. Her skin was warm beneath your palm, and her breath hitched as your thumb gently caressed her cheek.

“I’m sorry,” you said softly, your voice low but steady. “I won’t do that again. I promise... my charm will only be saved for you, my Tzuyu.” You gave her a sweet smile

Tzuyu’s eyes flickered with something raw and unguarded as she looked up at you, absentmindedly nuzzling into your hand, her vulnerability so clear in the way she held your gaze. “It better be,” she murmured, though her words carried no real bite.

In that moment, the air between you felt thick with something unspoken, an invisible thread pulling you closer to her. Your heart pounded as you realized what you had/wanted to do.

Or maybe it was the alcohol in your veins? Or maybe the sheer need to kiss her right in that moment.

Tzuyu’s eyes met yours, wide and vulnerable, but she didn’t pull away. She held your gaze, her breath shallow, her lips parted just slightly as if waiting for something—for you to make the first move.

And so, you did.

Without another word, you gently tilted her chin up with your thumb, leaning in slowly, giving her plenty of time to stop you if she wanted to. But she didn’t. Her eyes fluttered shut, and the warmth of her skin beneath your hand only urged you closer.

Your lips met hers in a soft, tentative kiss—almost like a question. She responded with a slight, shy press of her lips against yours, her breath catching as the kiss deepened. You could feel the soft tremble of her shoulders beneath your hands, as if she was just as unsure and just as eager.

For a brief moment, the world outside disappeared—The bridge, the distant city sounds—all of it melted away.

When you finally pulled back, your forehead rested against hers, both of you catching your breath. You felt her fingers brush against your hand, hesitant but full of meaning, as if she was silently asking, What now?

You smiled softly, your thumb tracing her cheek one last time before you whispered, “I meant it. It’s just you, my Tzuyu.”

Her lips curled into a small, bashful smile as she whispered back, “Just me.”

Maybe come Monday you’ll ask Jihyo for a permanent position on the third floor.

[writingwithfolklore]

The (not so) Secret Magic of Asking for Things

                I’ve taken three classes I didn’t have the prerequisites for, gotten two jobs in editing, and was offered an internship with a big magazine. My secret? I asked.

                It sounds almost too simple to be true, but that really is all you need to do to get what you want. Ask the right way, to the right person, at the right time, and you can get just about anything you want. The worst thing that has ever happened to me from asking for what I want was an apologetic no. The best things? Jobs I love, classes I’m enjoying, and an internship that’s going to look amazing on my resume.

                When emailing, there’s a structure to making requests. Here’s an email I sent out to take a creative writing class I shouldn’t have been able to take as example:

Subject: Program Override for (Course) (keep it short and clear)

Hello Person,

I hope you’re having a good morning/week/weekend. (always open with a nice pleasantry. Sets a good tone).

I am a third year student in (program) looking to take (course), however I noticed there was a program restriction that bars me from registering for it. (Start with a very quick context, only keep the details that are absolutely necessary.)

Creative writing is my greatest passion and I constantly strive to be better at it. (Course) would allow me to grow my skills in this area and gain valuable connections with other writers at (school). If there is any way to override the restriction, I would be endlessly grateful.

(Make personal connection and state clearly what you want.)

Thank you,

(Sign off)

                Easy peasy, right?

                Other opportunities I got came from knowing the right people. I asked one of my profs if she knew of any internships, and she happened to know an editor of a magazine that she reached out to on my behalf. Within a month I had an interview with them. I made friends with a guy who was hiring for an editing position—I told him I would be interested in it, and in a few weeks I got the job.

                Make clear to the people around you the goals and things that you want. I tend to mention these goals during the “say one interesting thing about you” class introductions thing they make us do.

                So many times have I said, “Hi, I’m Annai and I’m a novel writer looking to get published in YA and hopefully children’s writing” and have had people come up to me with offers to collab on a children’s book, or who know someone getting published, or have a family member who is an editor.

                If you want it, just ask.

[joelmillers-whore]

Hard Light | Chapter Two

chapter one | ao3 | masterlist

series summary: when a new english professor begins teaching your class for the duration of your semester, you can’t help but develop an innocent crush on him. he’s as off-limits as he can be but it doesn’t deter you in the slightest. after a drunk night, you accidentally email him something that wasn’t intended to ever be seen by anyone. but that doesn’t matter. it triggers a misunderstanding that manifests into an affair with your professor who is twenty years your senior. nothing good could come of this, right? 

chapter summary: becoming obsessed with your english professor and imagining what fucking him would be like was never part of the plan. you seem to think about him whenever least convenient and read more into innocent words and touches than you should. but, your infatuation with him comes screeching to a halt when you discover something about him. crush done and over with, right?

pairings: professor!joel x college student!reader

word count: 2.7K

series or one-shot

chapter warnings: 18+ explicit, minors DNI, no mention of Y/N, alternate universe, professor/student relationship, eventual smut, self-esteem issues, workaholic, joel x female!reader, infatuation bordering on obsession (stay delulu friends), some sexual thoughts, masturbation (f), sexualization of the male form, allusions to sexual and explicit scenarios, drinking and glorification of getting drunk

A/N: okay, listen, i won't beat around the bush, i kinda let this series die after like one chapter. my brain works in mysterious ways, as in, i lose interest in stuff quickly, and that includes writing certain fics. that's why i have so many unfinished wips. but, here we go with another chapter of hard light. i re-read this chapter and was suddenly inspired to write for it again. enjoy and don't forget to comment, reblog, and like.

You’d been stuck at the coffee shop for the majority of the day, constantly checking your phone to see if Jeremy had answered you yet. But it didn’t look like he was going to be able to cover your shift. Where the fuck was he? You normally had no problem with covering a Saturday shift but you really needed to leave early, the application for the internship was due soon and you hadn’t started it yet. You flinched, feeling the burn of scolding oat milk drip onto your hand. You shook your hand out, trying to ignore the pulsating emanating from the skin. 

You’d been burned before and worse, but you just wanted to get through this shift. You tipped the ceramic cup and poured the frothed milk into it, moving your wrist in tandem with tipping the cup, trying to quickly do the design that had become second nature to you at this point. Your mouth flattened into a tight line, almost smiling at the student as you handed them their coffee beverage. You were always glad that the coffee shop on campus had only a few options to choose from when it came to coffee orders. And they were all pretty easy to memorize and make. 

Heaven forbid you worked at a Starbucks, where you had to nail down complicated drink combinations and fulfill nauseating orders. Coffee was a sacred thing, at least to you, and it was the perfect concoction of bitter and sweet that had you hooked each time you drank it. People needed way too much sugar to actually enjoy a caffeinated beverage, and there was nothing wrong with that, but it wasn’t something you personally liked. 

You looked up from putting the oat milk back in the fridge when you heard the chime on the door, ready to greet the person who had just entered with a welcoming smile, but that smile flattered when you saw who had just walked in. Your new English professor, the one with the tight ass. You shook your head. Okay, from here on out you were not allowed to think of him that way. He made his way to where you were, an easy pace to his walk. You swallowed as your eyes raked over him. He was wearing brownish-green slacks that seemed to fit him snuggly in places that you couldn’t look away from, and a stylish brown tweed jacket, which stretched across his forearms and chest tightly. 

He gifted you with a smile, his lips perfectly rounded and pink even though they hid underneath a subtle stubble. You opened your mouth to speak but apparently, you had no knowledge of the English language at this current point in time. 

“Could I get a latte?”, Professor Miller asked. 

You had heard him speak in front of nearly a hundred people earlier this week and yet, you were taken completely off guard by the throaty yet softspoken quality of his voice. How soothing and intimate it was when it touched your ears. It made you shiver, imagining how it would sound in the harshness of night when he was on top of you, thrusting slowly, and giving you words of encouragement while you took his thick—

“Yes”, you squawked, stepping back from the counter and burying your head in the coffee machine as you prepared his latte, trying not to let it show how heated your cheeks probably were. 

You heard a low chuckle from him as he paid, turning on his heels and standing in front of you, the bar of the counter the only thing acting as a barrier between the two of you. 

“You’re from my English Lit class, right?”, he asked, his Southern drawl sweeping over your whole body, making your stomach flutter. 

You looked up briefly, not ready to meet his eyes for fear that he could read your thoughts if you let him. You nodded, ducking back down and concentrating. 

“Thought so”. His voice was filled with amusement and something else as you felt the weight of his stare. 

You placed his finished latte on the counter, stuffing your hands into your back pockets as you waited for him to grab it. He took hold of the cup and the saucer but he didn’t move, plastered in place as you locked eyes with him. His pupils were double their original size as he scanned your features, seemingly staring into your soul. You wanted to look away but you couldn’t find the strength. 

His mouth tipped up at the edges, “Since I can get an unbiased opinion from one of my students...”, he paused, thinking about his next words thoughtfully, “How did you find my first day? Been meaning to ask one of you...”. 

You cleared your throat, “I think you did well. If my opinion matters at all”. 

Professor Miller snickered under his breath, nodding, “It does. Thank you for your honesty”, he twisted around but spoke over his shoulder, “I think you’ll find that I have a lot that I can teach you, and I look forward to the rest of the semester”. 

And with that, Joel continued to a table near the back corner of the coffee shop, setting his beverage on the surface and taking out his phone. He didn’t look up at you for the duration of his time, sipping his coffee, head buried in his phone for about an hour before leaving. He gave you a small wave as he left, which made your cheeks flame. 

You really needed to get a grip on yourself and not read more into his words. But you couldn’t seem to concentrate on anything else. I think you’ll find that I have a lot that I can teach you... He meant it in terms of the course, not whatever your idle mind told you it was really about. But you couldn’t help but dig into the double meaning behind those words. You were sure he could teach you a thing or two, he definitely looked like someone who had more experience when it came to sexual things. God, what was wrong with you? Joel— Professor Miller was a nice man, someone you could surely rely on when it came to your studies, you shouldn't be thinking of him that way. 

You were just tired and in need of some sleep. Yeah, that’s why you were letting images best left in the dark corners of your mind float to the forefront. Occupying yourself for the rest of your shift, eventually, Joel and that whole interaction became a distant memory, leaving your mind as fast as it had manifested. 

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

You settled into a lacklustre routine as the week came and went in a flash. You hadn’t had another one-on-one conversation with Professor Miller, much to your relief. You’d been using your job at the coffee shop, studying and catching up on homework, or even spending time out with friends, as a diversion when your mind began to wander back to that man that made your head spin and your every nerve ending light ablaze when his eyes settled on you in class. 

It wasn’t just a one-off coincidence when you felt it the first time, it wasn’t even a coincidence the second time that you’d felt it either. It was becoming something permanently stuck in your head; when you would see him again, and you made a bet with yourself before every class. Would you get that same flutter in your stomach when you saw him standing before the class, back turned to you and that backside calling out to you? And every time, you would win or lose, depending on your outlook that day. You had a monster crush on your English professor and it was becoming a hindrance. 

Each day you’d wonder what he would think of your outfit, because yeah, now you were actually having to think about your appearance, you actually cared. You wanted him to care, to notice, for his heady gaze to bore into you for a little longer than any of the other girls in your class that he looked at. It was maddening, having him on your mind when you were awake and when you were asleep. You’d conjure the dirtiest images of him and you when you were alone at night, not caring in the slightest as you slid a hand into the waistband of your panties, driven to the edge of insanity if you didn’t ease the overwhelming flutters that never seemed to quit. 

You told yourself that what you were doing was innocent, that because Joel was in your proximity, it was only a natural progression that you’d develop something of a crush on him. But what you didn’t account for was how badly you wanted to act on it. How sometimes when you hung around after class, trying to work up the nerve to talk to him, you’d half-expect him to throw you onto his desk and pound into you, roughly, eagerly, your name slipping past his lips as he worshiped your tight cunt. But, he never did. And the more you thought about how much you wanted it, the more it became unrealistic. 

He was your teacher, for fuck’s sake, and you were his student. Nothing would happen and nothing could happen. But at night, when the stillness of the darkness crept in and you were having trouble falling asleep, your mind still strayed to the man old enough to be your father and you’d cum to the thought of him, over and over again, until your sated body and mind lulled to sleep. And then, when your alarm shrieked in the morning and you had to peel yourself from your bed and get ready for the morning, you’d be overcome with shame. Shame and regret. Because you were getting yourself off to the image of a man who probably wanted nothing to do with you, and you felt like a creep. 

You’d go about your day as normally as you could until you saw Joel in class again, and something as innocent as making contact with his hand as he gave you a quiz would ignite those flutters again, making them unquenchable. 

You were currently out with a few friends from your English class, and Jeremy had decided to tag along. The guy was a social butterfly and could fit in with any group easily. It was actually getting on your nerves, how your friends were currently swooning and chatting to him while you just sat there, waiting for them to loop you into the conversation. Jeremy caught your eyes over the shoulder of your friend, Cat, who was shamelessly flirting with him. Not that you minded, it was great that he was looking for someone. You had thought that you’d broken him when you broke up but it must have been all in your head. 

“Let’s dance”, Jeremy said to Cat, taking her hand in his, making her giggle as she stood up from her seat, and letting him guide them to the dance floor. 

You watched as his hands moved down her body, settling on her hips, and swaying them both in time with the slow song that was playing from the jukebox in the corner. Feelings you’d thought you had buried long ago came swelling to the surface, which had nothing to do with Jeremy moving on right before your eyes and everything to do with how lonely you felt. It hadn’t really hit you until this moment, watching two people who you considered friends, getting closer. 

You had a stupid habit of putting your needs on the back burner and suffering because of it. But growing up in a household that would rather see you be quiet than entertain any of your ideas or thoughts or feelings had done a number on you. Instead of seeking out what you wanted, you always held back, afraid of upsetting someone and losing their respect. It was the dumbest hang up but you couldn’t shake it. Even when you were in your twenties, it lingered. The feeling of not being good enough, for anyone. 

You turned around in your seat, giving Jeremy and Cat some privacy, the call of alcohol in whatever form suddenly calling out to you like a siren song. 

“Shots?”, you asked the remainder of your friends, which elicited a resounding and enthusiastic response. 

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

The time was crawling into the early hours and yet you still knocked back shot after shot, not caring much that the bar manager was growing annoyed at you and your still rowdy group of friends, probably seconds away from kicking you all out. Jeremy had brought Cat home hours ago but the rest of you decided that the night was still young, and so were you. 

You’d been dancing for the majority of the night, switching dancing partners as much as you’d switched between different liquors, but you were alone now, moving your hips from side to side as you nursed a drink of some kind, not really knowing what was in it. Your friend, Ayesha came over to you, stumbling and almost knocking into you. 

“Look what I just found”, she slurred, holding her phone near your face. 

You squinted, trying to get the dizziness to subside long enough for you to focus on the image she had pulled up. But it was difficult, you were really drunk. 

“What’s is it?”, you asked, hiccuping loudly. You covered your mouth with your hand. 

“It’s him”, she screeched, jumping up and down, “Professor Miller, I found his Tinder. God, he looks yummy”. 

Your heart sank to the dark and twisted pit in your stomach and you felt like retching right then and there. But, it was inevitable, for the spell to break, it was only a matter of time. Fuck. You rubbed at your eyes, hoping that this was all a dream. Just a really demented trick that your mind was playing on you. But when you removed your hands from your face and everything around you came back into view, you knew it was reality. Because of course a man like Joel Miller, the rugged yet charming English professor from Austin, Texas would have a dating profile. He was surely dating people and having sex. Lots and lots of sex with women his own age, not with his students. 

You took a step back from your friend and uttered something about feeling sick and wanting to go home. They offered to Uber back to your apartment with you but you made up some excuse about it being dirty, so you didn’t want them to see it like that. A short Uber ride and you were sinking down against your front door, running your hands through your hair, and smacking your head back in frustration. You were an idiot, and right now, you were a drunk idiot. 

Getting up from the floor, you fished around in your purse for your phone and settled into bed, not bothering to change or take your make-up off. It was way out of the realm of what you could muster from yourself right now, and honestly, it was a whole task in and of itself. You mindlessly scrolled through various apps on your phone, trying to occupy your mind, anything to not think about the shocking and devastating revelation you’d had tonight. 

You paused when you hit your email inbox, seeing a new email from Professor Miller. You sat up in bed, fumbling with your hair like he could see you through the phone. You clicked into the email, your eyes struggling to focus on the small text. You skimmed it, something about a missing attachment from the previous email you had sent him. You groaned, feeling like your world was spinning on its axis. Maybe it was from the alcohol or maybe it was because of the damning truth that you never had a shot with Joel, to begin with. 

You thumbed the tiny icon to attach the missing document to the email, replied back to him, and threw your phone away from you. Maybe you’d feel better about things in the morning, but you strongly doubted it. Nothing could cure how heartbroken you were and nothing could help you through it. Wallowing would have to do but for tonight, all you wanted was sleep.

taglist: @joeldjarin @pedrorascal @magpiepills @eliza-8 @noisynightmarepoetry @untamedheart81 @eldauvs @paanchusblog

let me know if you would like to be added to my taglist!

[oatmealwrites]

You're getting drinks with him? - Gojo x Reader

Jealous? Gojo x Gender neutral reader

Gojo x Reader x Nanami (if you squint)

Gojo Satoru needs help in persuading the higher ups to extend Yuji's execution date but he needs more support from outside sorcerers. Nanami and Mei Mei already signed their support, with some convincing, but he needs one more signature. Yours.

No NSFW, slight makeout sesh tho

Word countt 6.1 k

(This will go on ao3 once i get an invitation ;-;)

Only people who lived under a rock in the Jujutsu world have not heard of the new Vessel of Sukuna. For the first time in hundreds of years, someone with the potential to harbor Sukuna's soul had been found and now they were a student at your alma mater, Jujutsu High in Tokyo.

You knew him by another name of course, Itadori Yuji, who was the frequent subject of conversations with Nanami and Gojo. Aside from the small group of friends/work colleagues you had who still operated with the school, the news of the boy faded as quickly as it was mentioned. You had no authority or say in the matter of what happened, as did most other sorcerers. The decision on his execution and his subject of studies were completely out of your hands. The topic of Yuji became something similar to discussing the weather when conversing with other, non-involved sorcerers.

The topic of the boy was far out of your mind at the moment, having just finished a mission and now reporting to several second-grade sorcerers on how to clean up the rest of the residuals. Being a grade-one sorcerer, you have several second and third grade sorcerers under your command. Recent jujutsu graduates or those simply looking for a recommendation for promotion.

The small groups nod and split off to finish the rest of the clean up when you stretch your arms up to crack your back. A small gash on your thigh burns with slight pain and your left wrist is most likely sprained, but otherwise you're mostly unscathed.

maybe i'll give shoko a text and see if she's free for a quick repair and a cup of coffee.

You keep walking, past some of the rubble and cracks along the road until the edge of the veil is within arm's reach. You push past the murky and thick wall of the veil and stare out at the edge of the street, where Nitta opens the door of a black sedan and stands facing you.

“You've been requested at the school.”

You stop walking and blink at her passively before glancing at the blood seeping from the denim of your jeans onto the pavement.

“Is it urgent?”

“Yes.” she responds without missing a beat.

You let out a sigh and look back at the woman, slowly dragging your feet across the road. She motions for your entrance at the passenger door, and you slink into the seat, muscles slowly tightening with exhaustion. While she walks to enter the driver’s door, you reach forward to position the heater onto yourself and pull the chair into a reclined position.

Nitta slides into her seat in an upright position and begins the drive to campus.

“If your injuries are serious you can see Shoko before your meeting.”

You hum while tapping the thigh that isn’t stabbed to a slow pattern and stare out the window, leaning your head against the glass and watching the trees and buildings pass.

“Who is it that requested my presence? I don’t have a scheduled meeting until next week with Principal Yaga over potential student internships.”

Nitta fluidly turns the car and enters the highway and keeps her eyes on the road, “Gojo Satoru made the request.”

You pull your eyes off the window and flick them over to her before facing forward and pulling out your phone with a click of your tongue. Tch. You power it on and look at any missed notifications– just a text from Nanami about grabbing a drink after his lesson with Yuji and a spam email about a sale for your favorite bath soaps. He could’ve just called me if he wanted to meet.

You slide the phone back into your pocket and shut your eyes, relaxing against the headrest and trying your best to not let the frustration of your now interrupted evening get the best of you.

Nitta turns to you before facing the road again, “He mentioned it wouldn’t take very long. And that he would be on time.” Her voice was light with some pity laced into the words.

You let out a mix between a scoff and laugh and shake your head lightly, “yea I’m sure he will be.” Your voice is laced with sarcasm.

Nitta hits a particularly big pothole and you let out a slight wince in pain, opening your eyes. Maybe I’m more beat up than I thought. She turns to you with concern and you simply wave your hand off. You stare back off at the scenery passing you. This better be fucking important.

******

The rest of the ride was relatively quiet and only filled with occasional small talk. How is working at the school going? Good, what about you – how is being an independent sorcerer going? It’s the same conversation you’ve had a million times with her and Ichiji. By the time the car pulls into the small dirt lot in front of the principal’s building your social battery is nearly completely worn out.

Nitta opens the door for you and you stumble out with a slight wince and look around the campus. Late autumn causes the leaves to change color and begin to litter the grounds with a pretty mix of orange, red, and yellow leaves.

“Shoko is in her office. Do you need assistance getting there?”

You take a few steps from the car and breathe in the fresh air. You turn to Nitta and before you can answer, a voice calls out from the steps leading to the entrance of Yaga’s building.

 “That’s fine Nitta, I can take them.”

You look up and watch Megumi descend the stairs in his casual clothes with a blue scarf wrapped around his neck, “I needed to ask her a question anyways.”

Nitta turns to you for approval and you lift your hand, “It’s fine, I’ll walk with Megumi. Thanks for the ride though,” and shut the car door as you walk to the stairs.

Megumi raises an eyebrow and looks you over for a second, “You got pretty beat up.” You shrug and point with your chin to begin walking to Shoko’s office, “Yea, well you should’ve seen the other guy.”

Megumi doesn’t laugh at the joke and just gives you a worried glance.

“I’m fine Megumi, the second grade curse just wound up attracting a first grade one as well. And it’s not the end of the world, I’ll be fine.”

It’s obvious Megumi wants to press you on it a bit further but holds his tongue. When Gojo first took him under his wing, Megumi formed an instant attachment to you. Disillusioned with the school and tired of constant orders from higher ups, you left as soon as you graduated, but still made time to see him. It’s obvious he’s been working hard to get out of the system just like you.

“What are you doing here anyways Y/N? I wasn’t expecting to see you until next week for the internship procedures.”

The two of you walk along the wooden hallways admiring the scenery of the campus.

“Satoru called me here for some reason. I have no idea what for.”

Megumi looked at you thoughtfully and shrugged, “Hopefully you didn’t have plans, that idiot is probably gonna be a few hours late.”

You let out a pitiful laugh and shake your head, “I actually had plans with Nanami in the works but who knows if I’ll actually be able to do them.”

Megumi nods and turns the corner, “He’s out with Yuji now. Which is actually the reason I wanted to see Shoko.”

You don’t speak but your silence encourages him to continue.

“Just a basic question if she knows how Sukuna’s and her own reverse cursed technique differs,” he pauses and looks at your injuries, “but that can wait until after you’re healed up.”

You let out a small smile and nod. The walk is filled with more small talk, and is only cut short when Megumi gives a courtesy knock before opening the door to Shoko’s office for you.

“I’ll see you later if you’re still on campus. If your plans with Nanami fall through let me know. Maybe we can get some dinner.”

You smile and wave off Megumi, heading into the office where Shoko sits on her stool, now looking up from her files and at you.

She has a small smile on her lips, “Need some help?”

You flash a half smile and angle yourself to show your bleeding thigh that has now stained all of the denim of your jeans from the injury down. Her eyes follow the stab wound and then linger on your swollen left wrist letting out a low whistle.

“Well then,” she stands up and slides on a pair of plastic gloves, “I better get to work.”

****

By the time Shoko is finished the sun has begun to dip low in the sky, leaving a warm orange glow over the campus. It’s not particularly late, only 4:45 pm, but the colder months create longer nights than days.

You sit in a meeting room leaning back against the plush cushions of the couch. Shoko leant you a pair of sweatpants to wear instead of your bloody and cut up jeans along with a sweatshirt that won’t restrain your bandaged arm and wrist. Both are oversized and you don’t particularly recognize her ever wearing them. But they’re warm and cozy and you feel extra comfortable in them hearing the cold wind blow against the windows from outside.

Steam lifts from the mug of green tea set on the coffee table in front of you, still too warm to drink. Megumi just left from dropping it off, stating he was off to spar with Maki and Inumaki for a bit and to call him if your meeting ended early.

The large grandfather clock ticked in rhythm and the beat was enough to almost lull you to sleep. Shaking the drowsiness from your eyes you pulled your cellphone from your pocket and opened Gojo’s contact up.

You: Where are you?

Read ✓

Ass. You bit the inside of your cheek and rolled your eyes. Before you could throw your phone across the couch, a ‘ping’ chimed from it.

Satoru: Finishing up a quick convenience store run. What kind of roll cake flavor do you want? Matcha like always?

You deadpan at your phone. He’s running late to stop and get desserts? Does this prick have no idea the shit I’ve had to deal with today?

When you don’t answer immediately your phone chimes with another notification.

Satoru: I can feel ur frustration. Don’t worry I’ll get multiple flavors then~ Be there soon(ish)

A long sigh leaves your lips and you close Gojo’s contact and pull up Nanami’s. You re-read his invitation for drinks again and decide to call him, now that you have more time than you would like on your hands.

You click the green ‘dial’ button and raise the phone to your ear. The line rings three times and before you lose hope there’s a ‘click’ and then a deep “Hello?”

You lean your head into the phone, “Hey Kento it’s Y/N”

His tone is noticeably lighter at the sound of your voice and Nanami immediately responds, “Oh, hello Y/N. Did you see my message about drinks tonight? Or should we do it another night?”

You let out a sigh and shift to lean against the armrest of the couch. Your legs stretch out over the cushions and your feet dangle over the other armrest.

“Ugh. I’m stuck at the school right now. I mean I needed to come here anyways to see Shoko, but Satoru wanted to see me. And he’s not even here yet!”

You play with a piece of your hair while waiting for Nanami’s response. His voice is smooth and deep and also slightly concerned?

“Needed to see Shoko? Are you injured?”

You wave your swollen hand as if he can see it and wince at the action, “Yea but nothing too bad; should be fine by tomorrow.”

A sigh can be heard on the other end, “You should’ve told me. Even if you were able to meet up tonight, I’d rather know you’re ok than see you show up in crutches unannounced.”

A small smile grazes your lips, “Ah. Well, I’m not that beat up. But I’ll definitely let you know next time. Maybe a cool photo of me with a black eye in front of some residuals.”

“That’s not funny” though the tone in his voice is lighter. It’s obvious he’s happy you’re alright.

You roll slightly onto your side and grab a pillow to squeeze against your chest, “Anyways, I’ll be stuck here for a bit. Maybe let’s just grab some brunch tomorrow or something.”

No matter how many times you try to describe the benefits of the combination of breakfast and lunch to Nanami, he’ll still prefer separate meals for them.

“Brunch? If we are eating after 11am I would prefer to just get lunch,” He pauses for a moment, “but if it makes you feel better I suppose we can get... the combination of meals.”

You laugh lightly into the line and hear footsteps in the hallway approaching the door.

“Thanks Kento. Anyways I gotta go. I’ll text you a few good cafes we can go to.”

Nanami says goodbye and as soon as you hang up the call, the door bursts open and Gojo walks in as if he isn’t an hour late.

“Hey Y/N~. Hopefully you didn’t wait too long.”

You roll your eyes and place your phone back into your pocket, not bothering to make room for him on the couch.

Gojo saunters into the room after shutting the door and places a large paper bag, presumably filled with desserts onto the coffee table. He takes the loveseat across from you and crosses his legs comfortably. His smile falters for a moment when he sees your outfit but it returns quickly.

This time almost the twinge of a blush on his cheeks. So faint you don’t even notice it.

“It’s been an hour Satoru. For something so supposedly important you sure know how to push it back.” You dig in your pocket for some chapstick and languidly apply some before shoving back into the fabric of the pants unamused.

Gojo laughs airily and leans forward to unpack the paper bag, placing various baked goodies onto the table before folding the paper bag and placing it on the floor.

“Oh come on. It was for a good cause. I even stopped to get you matcha and strawberry roll cakes. Along with a few other desserts.”

You raise an eyebrow and survey the deliciously packaged foods sprawled out in front of you.

“What’s this about?”

Gojo is in the middle of opening a vanilla whipped cream cake and doesn’t bother looking up,

“What do you mean? Can’t I bring my favorite friend a treat?”

You scoff and sit up normally, eyeing the delicious array of sweet treats set up.

“You only act like this when you want something. And besides, I thought Suguru won that title years ago.”

You sit up straighter and lean to grab a small container with a matcha loaf cake along with a napkin before sinking back into the couch.

Gojo waves his hand and takes a bite from his dessert before smiling again, “You’re important to me too ya’ know. Why else would I bring such nice treats?”

You roll your eyes and begin to munch on the cake, enjoying the sweetness of the cream and bitterness of the matcha on your tongue, “because you want something. You’re only sweet when you want something from me,” you speak with a full mouth.

The wording brings a pale color to his cheeks again but you’re too invested in the dessert to notice. Gojo smiles and then places his dessert back on the table.

His voice now serious, “I’d like to think maybe I do nice things for you for another reason. But that’s for another time,” he takes a breath and you can feel his eyes through his blindfold staring at you. “I need your help regarding Itadori Yuji.”

This makes you pause. Gojo often talks A LOT about a lot of things, but rarely does he ask for help on anything. At least not earnestly.

You raise an eyebrow and lower the cake you were about to take another bite from away from your lips, “Help? What do you need my help for?”

Gojo lightly shakes his head with an airy laugh, “Lot’s of things... but for this, I need your support in his mentorship.”

You furrow your brows, “I’m not following you here. I’m not a teacher or advisor for the school.

Running some work internships is one thing, but mentoring is different.”

Gojo nods, his gaze through the fabric still intense, “I know. The higher ups want to push Yuji’s execution date closer. Next week.”

You sit up in shock rattling the coffee table, nearly spilling the mug of now lukewarm tea all over the desserts, “What?! They can’t just move it like that!”

Your thoughts immediately race in worry and confusion. While you weren’t close with Yuji per se, you knew Megumi cared deeply for him. Now that you think of it, you’ve rarely seen Megumi without Yuji and Nobara.

Gojo nods solemnly, “I know. And that’s why I need your help.”

His voice pulls you from your thoughts and you look up at him, waiting for him to continue.

Gojo sighs and lifts his hands, fingers deftly removing the ties holding his blindfold up. In a fluid movement the fabric falls onto his lap and his piercing blue eyes make contact with yours.

Almost in a trance you find yourself in a locked gaze with the man, only to be pulled out when he breaks the connection to slide on a pair of sunglasses. Though his eyes still peer at you through his now disheveled white hair and over the tinted lens.

“I’ve already spoken to Nanami and Mei Mei on this, they’ve signed a contract petitioning the higher ups to extend the deadline. Usually two sorcerers would be enough, but they’ve insisted on a third.”

You nod, now keeping pace with his reasoning, though you wonder why Nanami didn’t mention anything sooner.

Ah that’s why he probably wanted to get drinks tonight.

“Who?”

Your eyes snap up. Did I say that outloud?

You shake your head, “just... thinking to myself is all.”

Gojo raises an eyebrow and tilts his head, his voice now serious and somewhat frustrated,

“anyways” he grits out, “I need you to sign the petition as well. Offering mentorship if needed, though considering I’m still here, it’s unlikely you would actually have any responsibility.”

You nod your head and look back at the desserts, “Sounds good. Let me know what to sign and I’ll get it squared away.”

What time is it? I bet I can still meet Nanami for drinks in a casual bar considering my outfit. We can discuss Yuji, as well as what to do next in case the higher ups make another rash move.

“Are you listening?” Gojo’s voice cuts through.

You snap out of your thoughts and stand up slowly, “Yea I’ll sign the documents, just hand them over.”

Gojo doesn’t move and instead looks up at you, frustration evident on his face, “Seriously? That’s it?”

You pause and raise an eyebrow in defense, “I’m sorry? I said I’d help, isn’t that what you wanted to hear? Besides I care about Yuji too so of course I’d stick it to the higher ups.”

Gojo stays seated, “No, I mean you say you’ll help me out and protect Yuji and then you just stand to leave like that’s it?”

You blink, growing frustrated, “Is there something else I’m needed for? Seriously Satoru, you could’ve just called me for something like this. And besides, if you don’t have the document here for me to sign right now why does it matter if I get up to go?”

Gojo stands up and furrows his eyebrows, his height forces him to look down at you, “I have the document in my office. But that isn’t the point. I mean you seriously don’t want to talk about this more?”

You can feel a migraine coming on. Exorcizing two curses, getting injured, getting healed, and then into an argument isn’t exactly what you wanted to go through today.

“I figured if there was anything else important you would’ve said it already. There’s no point arguing if there’s nothing else to say. Let’s just get to your office to sign this so I can make another meeting I have planned.”

Gojo scoffs and shakes his head, his white strands moving side to side with the action. His voice is laced with venom, “A meeting? Is that what you’re calling it? I heard you when you mumbled to yourself, you’re gonna go get drinks? Seriously?”

You pinch the bridge of your nose and shut your eyes, trying to not look at Satoru, “Why does it matter? It’s with Kento anyways.”

Gojo looks back at you incredulously, “Kento? I didn’t realize you two were on a first name basis.”

Finally having enough you look back at Gojo with your hands on your hips and voice raised, “We’re close friends Satoru, why does that even matter to you?”

Gojo stays silent and looks you up and down slowly. Once. Then twice, before scoffing “Well regardless of how close you are, any guy would be confused as to why his date is wearing another man’s clothes.”

You pause, arms coming slowly at your sides and your blood feeling like ice water. You look down at yourself and take a moment to really examine the clothing. Oversized sweatpants and sweatshirt. There’s a small embroidered writing on the hoodie to indicate it’s from Okinawa.

When has Shoko ever gone...?

You look back up at Satoru, eyes wide in realization. Any words on your tongue die immediately.

Why did she have to give me his clothes?!

Gojo’s cheeks are now lightly dusted pink as he holds eye contact with you, though his stare holds frustration and almost jealousy.

“I...”

“You..?”

You swallow thickly with embarrassment, wishing the world would just swallow you whole in that moment so you would never have to show your face the light of day again. Eventually you calm your heart rate and take a deep breath, “I didn’t know these were... Shoko gave them to me..”

The explanation isn’t properly worded but Gojo follows along, the malice leaving his eyes and softening as you mention Shoko’s name. His eyebrows raise and his face is almost one of worry, “Shoko? ... Are you injured..?”

The gentleness of his voice almost hurts as your heart pounds with emotional whiplash. So much frustration turned to embarrassment turned to something else fatigues you extraordinarily.

You try your best to swallow the mess of emotions and shrug, “Yea but I’m fine... My other clothes got torn up and she didn’t want the bandages to get caught on anything so she handed me these. I didn’t know they were yours Satoru.”

Gojo nods slowly and stays silent. The clicking of the grandfather clock is deafening in the silence and neither you nor Gojo go to speak for what feels like an eternity.

“So.. should we just go to your office now?” You eventually break the ice, awkwardly rubbing the side of your arm, careful of the bandages beneath the fabric.

Gojo stays looking at you but stands up straight. Another moment passes before he slowly peels his eyes away and lets out an awkward cough, “yea.. Let’s do that.”

You nod curtly and follow him out of the room and into the hallway, leaving the array of desserts behind. The walk is done nearly in silence except for the creaking of the wooden floorboards underneath you both.

When you get to his office door Gojo digs in his pocket for the key before swinging the door open and motioning you to enter. You step inside and Gojo follows suit, walking past you and clicking the floor lamp on. The large windows behind his desk fill the room with the remaining orange glow from the sun and warm light from the lamp creates a cozy and familiar space. Despite rarely coming into his office, every time you find yourself here you can’t help but feel at peace.

Gojo unlocks a filing cabinet next to his desk against the wall and begins to flip through a mess of papers and folders. You step further into the office, noticing all the little ways it’s changed over the years. You admire the posters taken as souvenirs from his work travels and bookshelves lined with texts you’re not sure he’s ever read.

Your eyes then catch on his desk, an array of framed photos sit along the border and you’ve never seen them there before. Gojo is too preoccupied flipping through the next cabinet drawer to notice you lifting the frames one by one. The first photograph is of Shoko, Suguru, and Satoru. The next is those three plus yourself, Nanami, and Haibara. The next one is Gojo with all the current first years. A small smile finds its way on your lips.

Then you walk around the desk and grab the photo on the end of the desk but positioned at an angle so that whenever Gojo sat down it would be facing him. Carefully, you lift the frame and gasp faintly at the image. It’s a photo from a few years ago of you and Megumi laughing hysterically. Megumi is in his middle school uniform and you’re in casual clothing of a T shirt and jeans.

You remember this faintly. It was right after Megumi had gotten in trouble at the school office again and the principal had called you and Gojo to pick him up. When he recounted exactly how he had tormented some of the students you couldn’t help but laugh and then he couldn’t either.

“It’s my favorite photo.”

Gojo’s voice startles you and you nearly drop the frame, the proximity raising your heart rate.

You meet Satoru’s gaze with a small smile and turn away with warm cheeks, placing the photo back where you picked it up.

“It’s a good memory.” You concede, still not able to make eye contact.

Gojo smiles and places the paperwork onto the desk next to where you were leaning. He takes a deep breath, “Sorry it took so long to find it... hopefully your little date isn’t ruined with my poor timing.”

A warm rush washes over you and you shake your head and reach for a pen, “It wasn’t a date Satoru. And besides, I can just meet up with Kento tomorrow.”

His jaw stiffens at the mention of Nanami’s first name but he makes no effort to call you out on it again. Gojo nods and watches you scan the papers to find where to initial and where to print.

As you skim the pages a moment of realization washes over you. You look up from your place casually and glance at the man, “Satoru?”

He hums in response.

“What did you think back then..? When I was wearing your clothes, why didn’t you... you know.. Say anything?”

Gojo’s eyes widen for a second before looking anywhere else in the room. His cheeks are dusted lightly and he lifts his hand to run through his hair. When you stay silent waiting for an answer he lets out a long sigh and looks back up. His gaze is on the photo of you and Megumi,

“Well.. I didn’t want to make it weird.. And besides.. You looked good in them.”

Your jaw falls a little in shock at the honesty of the response. You nod once and swallow thickly before turning your attention back to the papers. “Ah,” you say while gripping the pen tighter.

“Y/N.”

You look back up at him, who is now looking you dead in the eyes with earnest, “I meant what I said earlier. You’re,” he pauses for a moment and closes his eyes for a quick exhale before continuing, “you’re very important to me.”

Your face is bright red at the confession. Or is it a confession? Important as in friends right?

Right. Friends.

You let out a light sigh and try to salvage any chance of friendship, “of course. You’re important to me too Satoru” you try and say as casually as you can.

Gojo notices and shakes his head, he looks almost sad as he glances at the photo once again before meeting your gaze. “No. I mean..”

He loses his words and wraps his arms around your left wrist, letting go when you hiss in light pain. Instantly he drops his hold. Gojo looks at you in silence before gently raising your arm and lifting the sleeve of his sweatshirt to reveal the bandages on your wrist and up your forearm.

His eyes scan over in hurt and worry while he somberly mumbles your name.

“I’m fine.. I just-”

“I'm sorry.”

You blink at him. Huh?

“What do you mean?”

Gojo keeps his gaze on your injury, his brows knit with frustration, “I didn’t know. I should’ve been more careful.”

You lick your lips and can feel your heart pounding in your chest, “it’s fine Satoru you didn’t know.. And I’ll be fine..”

He doesn’t release his grip on you and keeps his attention on your arm before looking up to meet your eyes. There’s an almost intimate feeling to the long silence between you both.

Hesitantly he drops your arm but doesn’t move back at all.

“You’re more important to me than you realize. I do those stupid jokes and bring those little desserts for you because I do care. I promise.”

He looks back at the photo and lingers on the image of you grinning wide with laughter and a small smile forms on his face. Gojo turns back to you, his expression vulnerable.

Your cheeks are red and you knit your brows in thought. All the years spent joking with him, fighting together on missions with him, mentoring Megumi with him; naturally you two formed a bond. There had been moments of course, moments when the border of platonic and something more blurred. Late nights together watching movies while Megumi slept, overnight missions where the hotel only had one bed, and even grabbing lunch together when he would know your go-to order all brought heat to your cheeks.

Looking at Satoru now it’s clear in those moments he also felt that connection. That there could be something more. He stays quiet waiting for something, anything to leave your lips.

You look from eye to eye to lips and back to his eyes again, slowly thinking it out. There would be consequences, but honestly fuck it.

With one more glance back down to his lips you lean your head in to test the waters and Satoru instantly matches the initiation leaning in and connecting his mouth to yours in a gentle, tender way. Your eyes flutter shut and your lips move against his own in fluid motions. Your strawberry chapstick rubs off against his lips and you swear a light sigh can be heard leaving his mouth.

After a second you pull back, the gravity weighing on you both and you look back up to Satoru.

Not a word is spoken before you reconnect your lips again, this time no longer testing the waters but instead with force and longing.

Your hands raise to wrap around his neck and get tangled in the mess of hair while his find peace on the dip of your waist. Your lips move at first awkwardly, trying to find rhythm but after a few breaks for air in between, they find a synchronous motion. His lips move against your lower one, occasionally biting and nipping it, loving the light gasps and sighs leave your mouth. He groans every time you pull at his hair.

Nearly without you realizing it he pivots to keep you pinned against the desk and stands between your legs all without ever removing his lips from yours. You keep him pulled into you, fervently connecting your lips with passion and opening your mouth when his tongue swipes your bottom lip asking for permission.

He takes his time, switching between open mouth kisses that allow his tongue the chance to explore your mouth and ones with your lips more closed so he can better taste the intoxicating flavor of your chapstick. He swears he’ll buy you an infinite supply as long as you promise to kiss him every time you apply it. You groan into the movements, the vibration stirring something more between you both and you find your mind going completely blank.

His thumbs smooth tiny circles into your hip bones and his other fingers dig into the flesh of your lower back. Your left hand moves away from his hair and instead cradles his jaw and cheek, still able to feel the flesh despite the bandages. With one more tug of his white strands Satoru breaks away from your lips.

Before your foggy brain can mumble a word he reconnects his mouth on your jaw, leaving small pecks until he reaches your neck. A shiver run up your spine and you involuntarily shut your eyes and lean your neck to the side to allow better access. His lips ghost over the flesh and his nose tickles the hairs behind your ear. Without another second he finds the spot he was searching for and begin kiss and nip at the pulse point right under the jaw.

A soft and relax gasp is released from your lips and your eyebrows knit in comfort and pleasure. His kisses turn more forceful, occasionally nipping and then sucking at the spot. One of his hands leaves your waist to cradle the opposite side of your face and angle your neck to allow more space for him to continue. He swears he can feel your heartbeat on his lips and it only drives him crazier.

The force has you wondering if he’s going to break the skin and bleed you dry, but after a moment he relaxes the suction of his lips and runs the flat of his tongue over the spot twice as if to soothe the skin he just bullied. Satoru steps back only a bit and admires his work. There on your neck, right on the pulse is a large and angry purple bruise.

Of course your expression is also one he wishes he could photograph, frame, and place on his desk as well. Hair disheveled, a light pant with red cheeks, and pupils blown with desire. Nevermind, Satoru decides only he should ever see this image.

You blink a few times, your gaze never leaving Satoru’s face. His hair is a wreck, his lips are swollen, and a small line of saliva drips from the corner of his mouth. Hot.

No proper sentences are able to form for a few moments of panting between you both. Eventually you let out a dry laugh and shrug your shoulders forward, accepting the situation and what just happened was very much real.

Satoru reaches forward and tucks a lock of hair back into place on your head and offers you a grin, “So.. still getting drinks with Nanami?”

You laugh and shake your head and peer out the window behind Satoru, “No I don’t think I will. But I did promise Megumi I would call him after our,” you motion between you both, “meeting? I promised him dinner.”

Satoru laughs and reaches forward to grab the signed paperwork and slide it back into the manila folder in his filing cabinet.

You bite your bottom lip, not wanting this moment to end but knowing this isn’t the right location or time to have the what are we now? chat.

“Come with us.”

Satoru turns back to you and steps between your legs again, gentle to not bump into you. He rests his hands on yours, suddenly addicted to the physical contact he has to permanently restrict from everyone and everything else. His eyes are fixed on you as a whole, admiring the complete image in front of him.

“Yea?”

“Yea. It’ll be like the old days,” a genuine wide smile works it way onto your lips

Satoru’s eyes glint and he leans down to kiss the corner of said smile gently before pulling back, “I’d like that.”

[cappurrccino]

started thinking something along the lines of "aw, what's wrong with me that i feel bad for unsubscribing from company emails" but then i remembered sitting in on a marketing meeting during my internship and listening to them proudly talk about how they use like. behavioral psychology to figure out how best to manipulate people into using their services and i feel much less like there's something wrong with me now

[littleadaline]

I Didn’t Know Where Else To Go [P.G6]

Warnings: Reader is unwell?? Angsty on the readers side??

Word count: 2.03k

A/N: wrote this while dealing with stomach flu, so it may be inconsistent or unpolished, sorry about it!!

A/N: Ramadan Kareem to all who partake in it!! May this Ramadan heal our hearts and bring our souls some much needed peace xx.

———————————————————

18:00

You had just gotten off the phone with the agency you had landed an internship with. After countless interviews and days of going back and forth to establish a schedule, you had finally received the green light for your internship. Grabbing your cat in your arms, you twirled around, letting a shriek of excitement.

“We did it Lucía!!” The ping of your phone stole your attention. It was Aurora.

[From Roro ✨🌸]:

Any news about the internship? I got a response for mine!

[To Roro ✨🌸]:

OMG RORO I GOT THE INTERNSHIP!! I CAN’T BELIEVE IT 😭 HBUUU?

[From Roro ✨🌸]:

ENHORABUENA AMIGA!! I GOT MINE AS WELL!

[To Roro ✨🌸]:

I’M SO PROUD OF YOU AURORA! I can’t wait for us to celebrate xx Is tonight any good??

[From Roro ✨🌸]:

Me too! Tonight is no good :( How about tomorrow?? I’ll ask Gavi to drop me off after his physiotherapy appointment.

Your face soured at the mention of Pablo. Pablo Páez Gavira was your friend’s little brother, and despite being the same age and having similar interests, you guys hated each other. You were always bickering, exchanging snarky and sarcastic remarks about one another. Pablo’s parents were deranged by their son’s behaviour, but Aurora saw something beyond the sarcasm and lack of agreement. She often teased the two of you, pushing you to at least pretend to like each other.

“If you end up even getting along with each other, you each owe me 20€.”

“Never.” Pablo responded, shooting the basket ball into the net.

19:00

In need to contain your excitement, you put on your shoes and left the house for a walk. Strolling around the neighbourhood, you admired the early sightings of springs; people keeping their windows open, the sound of music escaping onto the streets. The smell of dinner was not unfamiliar to your nose. You realized were near Pablo’s neighbourhood when you heard the ping of your email. The smile you had harboured for the last hour was quickly wiped away as you read the title of the email.

[Termination of your internship]

Dear Y/N Y/LN,

It has been brought to our attention by our hiring committee that it will be impossible for us to accommodate your personal schedule into the internship schedule. As such, due to the late application date and your uncooperative schedule, we are forced to rescind our offer for the internship. We wish you the best in your academic and professional career,

The Agency.

Your eyebrows knitted in confusion. “Uncooperative schedule”? You knew your schedule was rather complicated, but at no point was the hiring committee bothered by it…nor had they said something either. You and the agency knew the weight this internship held for your final project this semester. If you couldn’t land an internship, you wouldn’t be able to hand in a project, and you’d automatically fail the class. Failing the class would mean you wouldn’t obtain your degree and your graduation would be delayed by a year as this class was only given during the winter. Something wet rolled from your cheeks and onto your phone screen. You didn’t know if it was tears or rain. You let your back slide against the street wall, an uneasy feeling taking over. You were hyperventilating, a million thoughts rolling in. Unable to think clearly, you ran to the only address you knew in this neighbourhood. Making it to the front of the house, you pounded at the door.

“Pablo? Pablo are you here? Please! Anyone?” You begged, sliding your body down the door as you cried uncontrollably. Your body was soaked from the rain, shivering as the wet clothes clang to you. 3 minutes had passed before rapid footsteps were heard and the door was opened in a hurry. You didn’t have the time to turn to look at whoever had opened the door before a pair of arms dragged you inside.

“Who’s that?” Pablo’s mom said, running into the entrance, apron still on.

“Y/N, what’s going on? Hey, hey, deep breaths. Look at me.” Aurora said, taking off your coat and shoes. Your chest was falling and rising at an alarming rate. Your sight was hazy as you fought tears.

“She’s freezing.” You felt Pablo’s mom dragging you to the bathroom upstairs, tears still streaming down your face. You were unable to stop. Aurora was behind you, frantically removing your soaked clothes. Pablo was following, still perplexed as to what had brought you to his house.

“I’ve got it from here,” Aurora held her hand in front of Pablo’s face. “Go get some towels and put them in the dryer for 10 minutes. Pablo do as I say or so help me God you won’t live to see another day. Now is not the time for your rivalry.” Aurora scolded her brother.

Pablo bit back his tongue, swallowing the comments he had. He obliged, rapidly jogging to his laundry closet before grabbing his fluffiest towels, and chucking them in the dryer. No matter how far back your rivalry went, he couldn’t help but feel worried about you. Your soaked clothes clinging to you, your face covered in a mixture of rain and tears, your sudden zombie-like state.

“Pablo? The dryer’s been done for 2 minutes now.” His dad’s voice pulled him out of his thoughts.

He grabbed the towels and ran upstairs before softly knocking on the bathroom door. The door opened slightly, enough for him to peak at your slumped figure on the bathroom floor, still stuck in a zombie-like state. You were left in your bra and underwear as Aurora and her mom worked tirelessly to calm you down. Pablo’s heart broke at the sight of you. He just wanted to take away that pain.

“How’s she-”, he mustered up to say before the door closed back on his face.

“Vale, hija, respira.” Pablo heard his mom softly say from behind the door. Defeated, he walked back to his room and rummaged through his drawers. As fun as the rivalry was, the current sight made him want to burn the entire world. He dug through his clothes until he pulled a matching sweatpants and sweater set. He put the set in a basket, heading to the guest room where he grabbed the fluffy socks he kept. He grabbed those before heading down to his laundry room and putting them in the dryer to warm them up. While waiting for the dryer to finish, he walked back to the kitchen where he poured you a bowl of soup, previously made with care by his mother, and boiled some water for tea. The dryer had been done for a few minutes now when he heard the sound of the bathroom door open. He ran, skipping steps, to hand the clothes to his sister. Aurora took the clothes without hesitation, simply thinking Pablo for his actions. Gavi knew you were soon going to come out of the bathroom, so he left the food and tea on the guest bedside table. Soon enough, Aurora helped you get in bed. You had regained some colour, your hair now clean and in a braid. You were wearing the set Gavi had warmed up, the clothes baggily hanging around your body. Gavi’s inner self breathed a sight of relief seeing you settled in bed, a more peaceful look on your face.

“I’m gonna help mamá clean up the bathroom. Make sure she stays warm and at least drinks the tea or eats the soup.” She patted him on the back before closing the door behind her. Gavi simply nodded, feeling the need for rivalry fading away.

“Vale…” Gavi awkwardly sat on the edge of the bed. “Do you want the tea?”

“Did you poison it Gavira?”

Gavi chuckled, taking your sarcasm as a sign of wellness.

“No, I didn’t. Tea or soup?” He tried to sound annoyed, but his newly found care for you betrayed him.

“Soup smells delicious. I could recognize your mom’s soup from miles away.” You laughed weakly.

Gavi grabbed the tray with the bowl of soup and approached the bed. He sat on the corner before bringing a spoonful to your lips.

“Mhhh…” you moaned in delight. “Gimme more.” You felt your body slowly regaining its strength. You sat up on the bed, Gavi feeding you one more spoonful of soup.

“Y/N, what happened? You had us all scared.” Pablo confessed, setting aside the bowl of soup.

You sighed, debating telling your newfound friend the truth.

“I…um. You know that class Aurora and I are taking? The one where we need to intern with a company related to the theme assigned to us? Well, if we don’t land an interview by the deadline, we automatically fail the class. And up until,” you checked your phone. “2 hours ago, I had an internship. Until I received an email telling me that they had to rescind their internship offer due to schedule issues. And if I don’t pass this class, I have to wait a whole year to retake the class. Which also means my graduation is delayed.”

“I don’t get it… How could they do this?” Gavi angrily asked. “What theme were you assigned?”

“Gavi… I’m not sure you can help in this situation…” Gavi’s eyes pierced through yours, desperately trying to uncover your secret. He had this kindness in his eyes, something you had never noticed before…. Maybe because you were too busy being at each other’s throats.

“What theme were you assigned?” He asked a second time.

“Media in sports…”

“You’re doing it with us and that’s final. I’ll contact the media department first thing in the morning. They don’t have any interns for this term, they should be able to accommodate you. I may have to twist Xavi’s arm for this, and sprinkle in some emotional manipulation, but you know the mister, he can’t say no to these puppy eyes.” He bragged.

Gavi fed you a new spoonful of soup, slowly taking more space on the bed.

“What brought you here?”

You almost chocked on your soup, the brutality of Gavi’s question taking you by surprise.

“Oye Gavira, are you trying to kill me with your brutal questions?” You heard Gavi laugh, something you never dreamed you’d be able to hear coming from him. “Since you want to know, I went on a walk to contain the excitement of the news, and I made it to your neighbourhood when I received the email. I guess my instinct just kicked in, and I ran to your house. I’m sorry, I didn’t know where else to go…” you said, defeated.

You heard Gavi put down the bowl on the tray before he shuffled closer, pulling you into a hug. Shocked, you simply laid there, your arms laid on your side. Your body turned on auto-pilot and you hugged him back. You didn’t know Gavi was capable of such signs of affection, especially not with someone he’s been bickering with for the last decade. On the other side of the interaction, Gavi’s mind was rolling at 200 km/h. *What are you doing cabrón? You’re supposed to hate each other. Let her go! Push her away! Wait, this feels natural, almost meant to be…*

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry this happened to you. Aurora was boasting about how happy she was you obtained the internship with this agency. I can’t imagine how it must feel.” He whispered. You both stayed in a comfortable silence until he spoke up again. “You look tired, do you want me to leave?” He slowly got off the bed, but you pulled him right back down.

“Stay. Your presence is somewhat comforting. I don’t know what your mom put in this soup, Gavira, but it’s making you less… annoying.”You sighed, your eyelids growing heavier by the second. You heard Gavi laugh, a low but subtle chuckle, and smiled to yourself. Gavi was lying on his back, his arms crossed on his chest.

“Can I… Can I lay my head on your chest?” You asked him, your voice growing shy at the request.

Gavi was slightly taken aback, but nonetheless nodded, his heart fluttering at the thought of you being so close to him. He heard the sheets shuffle before he felt your head snuggle in on his chest. He swore right away in this moment that he was done with the animosity, the backbiting, the jokes. He was going to let you in. He was going to properly love you. He was going to cherish you. And in that split second, he realized he owed Aurora 20€, not that he minded anymore.

“Sleep tight nena.” Gavi’s hand found your hair, slowly stroking it.

[peachdoxie]

Your resume should include any relevant work experience and skills you have and it's good to include your volunteer work and internships (ideally four of them) as well as your multiple graduate degrees and the certifications you've earned during the process, and also your resume can only be one page in a font that's easy to read. This field is hard to break into because we have a lot of applicants for not a lot of openings and we'll keep them open for years until we find the perfect candidate. A great way to distinguish yourself is by taking any adjacent job you can find even if it means you have to work two or three part time jobs to make ends meet until a new opening is made. It's also good to tailor your resume to the companies and jobs you're applying for so that they know you researched the role and didn't send out mass applications, and oh, I highly, highly recommend that you keep your resume updated and a digital copy on hand so that you can email it to people at a moment's notice because it's good to keep an eye out for opportunities as they come up. Everyone around you has a master's degree and it's basically the new bachelor's and a PhD is the new master's and we really like seeing several years of work experience because there's a lot of stuff you can't learn in a classroom setting. It's a great field and I love working in it and you should pursue it if you're passionate about it!

[csuitebitches]

How To Make Full Use of Networking Events

Networking events and conferences are great because you get to meet and learn from experts but also connect with peers. I recently attended one and I wanted to share things I wish I had done before and what I learned.

1. Define an Objective

You have to determine why exactly you want to go to the event. Are you looking for a career change? A job? Advice on how to be better at your current job? How to tackle some issues in your start up? Networking? Make a list of the reasons.

2. Research

You need to research the speakers extensively. Go over their Wikipedias, LinkedIns and other social medias. Read their company websites from top to bottom. If they’ve released a book, take a look at the summary and read the reviews. Read some of their published articles.

Take this time to prepare at least 3 questions per speaker. Try to make at unique and interesting as possible, don’t ask the usual generic ones.

3. Business Cards

Definitely carry business cards. Make sure that your email, LinkedIn is mentioned clearly. Even if you work at a different company, that doesn’t matter- show your job title on the business card. Better yet, ask your HR if they can give you business cards as you would be promoting their company through your event. If you’re a student, I’d recommend you make a portfolio website of your internships/ project/ past work/ volunteer work/ hobbies/ interests.

4. Actually Talking

During the event, don’t be shy to ask questions. It doesn’t matter whether the rest of the audience thinks they’re stupid. You have spent your money to come there for your gain. Make full use of it. Ask questions. Meet the speaker after the event. Thank them for the insight, introduce yourself, ask them questions related to your objective of coming to the conference. Exchange business cards.

5. Utilising Coffee Breaks

Coffee and lunch breaks are a great way to talk to people. You may feel shy or awkward to talk to new people, but there’s very high chances that they feel the same way. You can start off by asking someone how they heard about the event, what they thought of the speaker, or pass a remark on the question they asked the speaker. Keep in mind that if the event has multiple speakers, there could be a chance that you’re talking to a speaker, even if you don’t recognise them… so be on your best behaviour.

6. Questions

Ask questions that are beneficial to you. During my conference, we had a women-leaders panel. An audience member asked the speakers how they divided their work between family and work. The speakers looked visibly annoyed at the question - because how generic is that?

Ask questions that could help you grow. If you’re in marketing, ask about their tried and tested marketing strategies. If you’re an early stage founder, ask them how they sourced their VC. If you’re struggling with time management, ask the speakers how they manage. Ask the questions for YOUR own benefit.

You can ask difficult questions but make sure you do it respectfully and tactfully. Best to start with a compliment and then ease into the question.

7. Dressing

Business casual, unless mentioned otherwise. What this means: blazer/ jackets/ trousers/ pencil skirts/ shirt/ co-ord sets/ no sneakers.

It doesn’t matter what other people wear. The way you present yourself is your brand. It also shows the respect you have for the other person - you respect them enough to not come shabbily dressed.

[spenceragnewfics]

THE INTERN | Chapter One

Spencer Agnew x Younger!Intern!Reader

TW: None

Word Count: 1.9k

Description: Y/N has been a fan of Smosh since they could remember. Now about to enter their senior year of college, they get an opportunity to be an intern at the Smosh Office and their first day has arrived.

Every new job comes with stress. You never know what is going to happen. You could have awful co-workers, creepy or mean bosses, and horrible workloads pushed onto you by lazy co-workers, the list is infinite. 

The stress comes even more when it’s something that could become your first job in the real world. Internships are a major stepping stone in any college kid’s career, it’s the start of being over with college and being a person in society.

That’s all that is racing through Y/N’s head as they look at the studio in front of them. Many people would consider them lucky with their internship. You see, Y/N is a long-time fan of Smosh, a very popular YouTube channel, and was somehow able to get an internship with the company for the summer.

They didn’t know exactly where and who they would be working with, except for knowing that their main job would be helping with social media. Looking at their phone, it shows that they still have ten minutes until they should be there but the anxiety was killing them too much to be any later.

Taking a deep breath, they grip onto the bag on their shoulder and walk to the front door. Pushing the button, they wait until a voice comes over the speaker, “Hi, how can I help you?” They lean down to be face-level with the camera. “Umm, I-I-I’m Y/N L/N. I’m the new intern.” Their voice comes out nervous, hoping they didn’t get the days confused or anything. They read the email what felt like a million times to make sure they were right.

“Yes! Alright, come on in! I’ll meet you at the door.” They hear the door unlock and push it open. Walking into the cool space, the heat from the outside slowly starts to melt from them. Looking around, the office looks much cooler in person. A lot of it is familiar but some things are new or haven’t been shown in videos.

“Hi, it’s nice to meet you!” A gentle voice says, pulling them from their daydream to look at the woman in front of them. The short Filipino woman standing in front of her is smiling kindly, “I’m Selina. Welcome to Smosh.” The woman sticks her hand out for Y/N to shake.

“I’m Y/N, which you already knew, and I know who you are. I’ve been a fan of the channel for a long time. That sounds creepy though, I’m so sorry.” They say while shaking her hand, thankfully the woman has a good sense of humor and is laughing. “It’s not creepy at all. I knew it would come with being in some videos. It’s always cool to meet fans. This must be like a dream for you.”

“Yeah, honestly, the whole process felt like a major dream. I can’t believe I’m here. I had my friends dump cold water on me when I got the email about me getting the internship. It was dumb but helped make sure it was real.” They confess as they play with their hands. Nerves still being the main thing Y/N is feeling.

“I can tell you're nervous. Don’t be. I promise, this place is very chill and the people are amazing. As long as you are willing to work, you’ll fit in well here.” Selina says, comforting the nervous mess that is in front of her. “Thank you, so where do I go?” They ask after taking a deep breath.

“Well, I will give you a tour, and then when we get done with that we will go to the conference room and you will meet some of the people you’ll be working with and some of the higher-ups. That does include Ian and Anthony.” Y/N perks up a little, their mood becoming more optimistic by the second because if everyone is like Selina, then this will be the best time ever.

They follow Selina as she takes them around the office. It’s very empty because it’s a shooting week so most of the office is helping with filming stuff. She got to see all the different pods and meet some of the office-focused staff like Emily, Josh, Peter, and Marcus. 

Once the tour is over, the two head back to the front so Y/N can go to the conference room. “And that over there is the conference room. That’s where we do most of our big meetings and important stuff. That concludes the tour, if you have any questions please don’t be afraid to ask.”

“Thank you so much, Selina. I will keep that in mind.” Y/N says, slightly laughing as the two walk to the conference room. “Now this is where I must leave you. I am very excited to be working with you.” She says, giving Y/N a comforting squeeze on the arm before walking away.

Turning to the door, they can see a few people in the conference room. All people They recognize. Tommy, Alé, and Zoe are the only ones in there so far. Taking a breath, they open the door with a kind smile, “Hello, I’m Y/N L/N. It’s nice to meet you.” They say as they walk in, catching the attention of the room.

“Oh, you scared me! I didn’t expect you already, it’s so nice to meet you. I’m Zoe.” Says the blonde woman, walking over to shake her hand. “Nice to meet you, as well.” They say as they walk to the table. “I’m Alé, welcome to Smosh. You impressed us with your interviews and work.” The CEO says and it makes their heart soar.

“That means a lot. Thank you.” Alé gives them a kind smile before they turn to Tommy. “Hello, it’s nice to meet you fellow social media person,” he says, a little hint of amusement in his voice. “It’s nice to meet you as well. I’m so excited to be here, honestly. This is a dream.”

“Okay, you don’t have to butt kiss anymore. You’re already in.” He jokes, making Y/N laugh. “It shouldn’t be too much longer until the rest are here. I think they’re finishing a shoot.” Alé says and Y/N sits down. They look around, not knowing where to sit. “I won’t bite, I swear,” Tommy says, patting the seat next to him.

They sit next to him and put their bag on the table. Pulling out their laptop and tablet, Y/N opens up the important stuff that holds their digital work, video ideas that her advisor said could come in handy, and some examples of videos she’s worked on for her classes.

A few minutes pass with the groups sharing small talk until the door opens. Looking over, Y/N feels nervous all over again as Ian and Anthony walk into the room with Erin D. walking in behind them. “So sorry, we’re late. The rest are coming in soon.” Anthony says before turning to Y/N.

Their eyes widen when he looks at them, not believing this is real again. “Well hello there, you must be Y/N. I’m Anthony.” He says, walking over with his hand stretched out. “I know, I’ve been a fan for a while. Thank you again for this, it’s a dream come true.” They say as they shake his hand. Ian chuckles while walking over, “We’re glad to have someone so talented on our team. Your work is amazing.” He says, shaking their hand as well.

“That means a lot. Y’all’s videos got me through years and years of homework and projects.” They say, laughing a bit. “Well, we’re glad to have helped,” Anthony says as the door opens again.

This time Shayne and Courtney walk in and behind them is someone who makes her heart race for a different reason. Her breath halts when Spencer walks into the room, dressed in a jean jacket, button-down, rolled jeans, and boots. His curly hair was held back by a cap on his head. 

The three sit down together, across from Y/N and Tommy. “Okay, everyone is here. Thank you all for coming. Today we are welcoming a new addition to our office for the summer. Y/N L/N is coming to us from across the country and is currently in their senior year of college. Welcome, Y/N.” Alé says and the room claps.

Tommy motions for them to stand up, “Uh, hi. I didn’t expect to say anything but I’m Y/N, if that’s not obvious. I’m a social media management and multi-media production major. I’m a little nervous being so far from home but excited to be here for the summer.” They say, a shy smile on their face as they look around the room.

Their eyes stop on Spencer who is looking at them with a soft expression. The kind he has when he’s listening to people, the same one they’ve seen in many videos. “It’s very exciting to meet you, Y/N. Welcome to the team.” Courtney says, a kind smile on their face.

“Yeah, I’m excited to see what you can bring to the games channel,” Spencer says, keeping his eyes on them as they sit down. “Yes, thank you for bringing that up Spencer. Y/N, we have looked at the stuff you’ve done and from what you’ve told us plus input from your recommendations. You’ll be mainly helping with the gaming channel.” Alé says.

“Really? That’s so cool.” Y/N says, a smile bright on their face. “Yeah, so you will work with Tommy and me mostly to get things done,” Spencer says and they nod. “Okay, I think that’s all we have. This was just a meeting for you to get to know a few people, mostly the ones you will be working under.” Zoe says.

“Okay, sounds great.” Y/N says, an optimistic smile bright on their face. Everyone stands up, those who already met Y/N leave while Shayne, Courtney, and Spencer stay behind.

“So, Y/N, what have you done at college besides your degree stuff?” Courtney asks, wanting to get to know the newbie more. “Well, I am a part of my school’s esports team. We’re still kind of new but have done pretty well. I also was on the university paper but I stopped so I could do my internship.” They explain.

“That sounds super cool, you must be a good gamer to get on an esports team.” Shayne acknowledges. “I try, it’s not something I do all the time. Mostly for fun and I kinda joined because of my ex but that’s a long story.” 

“Ah, the things we do for love.” Courtney reminisces, “I think you will fit in great here. I know Trevor will be happy to have someone close to his age.” Spencer jokes. “I’m super excited, this is honestly a dream. I’m not even sure I’m awake right now.” Y/N confesses.

“I think I know how we can break that. Since it’s your first day, you can sit back and watch how things go then we’ll throw you into the deep end tomorrow.” Spencer says, his eyes never leaving Y/N. “Ooo, that sounds scary. Fun, but scary. I like it.” They say, perking up and putting their bag on their shoulder.

Courtney laughs as they wrap their arm around them, “You are gonna be perfect here.” They say as they all walk out of the conference room.

[femmefatalevibe]

any tips for getting into copywriting?

Learn the basics of copywriting & writing fundamentals/ marketing skills

Study the different types of copywriting (web/banners, email, social, ads, direct mail, sales letters, etc.)

Decide on your niche(s). Study everything you can about the industry, trends, latest news, customer demographics/psychographics, customer behavior, types of lifestyles/preferences they have, how they speak, where they spend the most time (IRL or digitally)

Craft an inspiration folder full of compelling copywriting examples you find when browsing on the web, going through your email, scrolling on social media, billboards, magazines, direct mail, etc.

Practice rewriting these examples with your own flair. Evaluate it, and keep practicing until you're proud of your copy.

Be as concise, clever, and convincing as possible. Keep your tone conversational (write like how you would speak), catchy, simple, and witty. Take out any extraneous or fluff words. Pepper in cultural references, puns, and relatable anecdotes understood by your target audience when relevant to your messaging/CTA

Create a portfolio with these mock-ups or projects done for family/friends (state they're spec work, not client-commissioned samples) or clips from an internship, school work, etc.

Craft a USP for yourself (including your niche, copywriting specialties, and the specific expertise you offer within your broader niche/service offerings that makes you unique)

Create an Upwork profile and share your services on LinkedIn (optimize both of these profiles)

Research local clients and small businesses within your niche. Also, take time to create a list of dream clients. Study their copy, brand voice, and keep tabs on updates regarding these companies' happenings

Learn the art of a cold email/LinkedIn pitch/Upwork proposal. Introduce yourself and your services to your prospect and share with them how you can fulfill a specific need they're seeking out (For local and smaller companies, feel free to offer suggestions. With more established companies, connect the dots as to why your experience/expertise is a great fit for their brand/target audience), and attach your work/link to your LinkedIn profile, website, and any other relevant hub for your professional services & content

Ask for referrals from friends/family to get started. If they're not a relative, get a testimonial to include in your portfolio

Follow up once if you haven't heard back from a prospective client after an initial pitch after a few days

Search for potential gigs on sites like Upwork/ProBlogger/People Per Hour

Once you land a gig, execute to the best of your ability and hand in your work by the deadline (strategies surrounding best business practices is a whole other post, lol)

Gather testimonials from all clients of successful projects. Confirm with clients whether you can use their work in your portfolio if you're unsure

Continue studying copywriting from books, courses, and everyday reading & living

Stay knowledgeable about advancements/updates in your field, keep updated on current events, and culture/social trends, and read a lot in general. Have interesting, multi-faceted conversations with others. Observe what makes people tick & remain engaged in a verbal dialogue or content