#i can’t give up on all my random socials because they post different photos on each one | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

yougotthatbilly · 4 years ago

Text

take care (m)

→ member: johnny seo

→ genre: assistant!johnny | smut

→ word count: 15.9k (not surprised atp)

→ playlist: body talk x majid jordan, warm x majid jordan, BoRdErSz x zayn, moment x victoria monét

→ warnings: slowburn, indecisiveness, v self-indulgent; unprofessional relations, big dick!johnny (ofc; don’t expect anything else), soft dom!johnny, begging (johnny’s a tease), subspace, oral; face-fucking, (and if you squint, ass eating), unprotected sex, squirting, praising, overstimulation, etc.

↳ summary: your assistant just wants to take care of you

The heavy rain outside mocks you. You were supposed to be at your favorite bar across the street, but here you are sitting at your desk, staring out your window. And that’s how Johnny finds you after being granted entrance into your office.

Your arm is propped up on the arm of your seat, cheek in hand, lips pouted. Johnny does his best not to smile at the thought of you looking adorable as not to piss you off. He just sets your cup of tea down on the coaster on the corner of your desk.

“How was the meeting?” he asks, taking a seat on the other side of your desk.

You slowly spin to face him, looking at him with annoyed eyes as you take a sip of your tea. It’s the perfect temperature—a temperature Johnny took almost a month to perfect— and sweetness, and it instantly makes you feel a little better.

“Don’t worry,” you sigh. “Jiyoung didn’t get fired.” You have a three-strike policy; this incident is the second strike.

“Jaehyun,” Johnny corrects, grinning.

You tilt your head at his correction. “I care?”

Johnny just shakes his head, knowing you’re being petty because Jaehyun got his dates wrong and uploaded a post on a few new products a week earlier than the scheduled date, resulting in having to speed things up a little. It didn’t cause a major problem because you’re typically prepared for the worst case scenario, but you don’t like feeling rushed and when things don’t go as planned, so you were pissed.

“What’s his punishment?”

“That’s between me and him,” you tell Johnny before taking another sip. Your lip curls in disgust at the suggestive look your assistant gives you. “Okay, let’s not be gross. He’s a child.”

“I didn’t know 23 was considered a child,” Johnny teases, mostly because the man of the hour has had a crush on you for the last year he’s been working for you and he’s been trying to get Johnny to talk him up to you.

“I didn’t know you wanted to get fired in his place,” you say with a tight smile. Johnny decides to switch the subject.

“Mind me asking why you looked so sad when I walked in?”

You sigh once more, slouching in your seat.

“I wanted to go to the bar…” You point to the window beside you. Johnny follows your finger and watches the storm that hasn’t let up since it started half an hour ago. “That’s not happening anytime soon.”

You’ve either been in your office working nonstop or sleeping for the last week or so and you can feel a burnout creeping up. You were going to walk to the bar to get the fresh air you needed, enjoy a drink and your favorite wings because you deserve it—especially after the headache Jaehyun caused the moment you stepped foot into your office this morning—and indulge yourself. Now look at you, hardly munching on the fruit slices Johnny gave you this morning and almost finished with your tea.

“I’m sorry things aren’t going the way you planned today.” Johnny pouts. “On the bright side, you don’t have anything else on your schedule so if you wanted to go home within the next hour, you wouldn’t fall behind.”

“I’ll probably just take a nap on the futon once I’m done looking over the new plan again.” You shrug.

Johnny wants to roll his eyes, but he catches himself. He’s sure you’ve already gone over it at least five times. There’s nothing he can do about it, though, so lifts himself out of his seat. “I’ll leave you to it. Just give me a call if something comes up or you change your mind.”

To both of your surprise, you actually head out and get yourself a candle you’d ran out of a week ago on the way home to treat yourself to a much needed bath filled with bubbles and essential oils. The scent of the candle reminds you of your assistant because it’s the scent he got you for your birthday, and it’s become your favorite.

You send a picture of the candle at the end of your tub to Johnny, thanking him again for putting you onto greatness, as he worded it before when you first smelled it in front of him and your eyes practically rolled back.

[18:14] John Suh: Are you actually relaxing???

You suck your teeth at his response, but you can’t blame him. He’s the only one that knows just how much you put in to get to the position you’re in, while you’re positive a lot of others just think it was handed to you by your mother instead of the school and endless hours work you went through and continue to go through. It’s very rare you give yourself the time to truly sit back and relax aside from when you’re on vacation. And even then, work never really stops. It just gets placed on the back burner for a little.

[18:16] you: Hush.

[18:17] John Suh: I’m just glad you’re taking care of yourself. Your dark circles have been snitching on you.

[18:17] you: Wow. You really wanna get fired today, huh?

[18:18] John Suh: Dark circles or not, you know you’re still beautiful. Now stop texting me and enjoy your bath!

When you find yourself smiling at your phone, you know you should do exactly what he says. Johnny’s always been a complimenter, though his usual kindness goes along the lines of telling you that you look nice. You’re no stranger to this specific compliment, you get it all the time on Instagram from your business partners and supporters. So why does this time settle differently within you?

[18:21] you: Nice save.

You need a video of one of your popular social media influencer ambassadors using and reviewing your newest skincare products tomorrow—due to Jaehyun’s mix-up—but that’s not happening. She didn’t record it before going on vacation and didn’t think to bring the products with her on her trip. While it isn’t her fault times have moved around, you’re annoyed she didn’t bring the products with her when she’s supposed to be using them every day because she’s one of your main advocates for your products being oily skin-friendly. You have the videos of the other models with their specific skin types, and this is your missing piece.

The weather is nice today, so you take a much-needed break from electronics and go to the roof of the building. Your peace is quickly interrupted by the body of a six-foot male in front of you, standing in the way of the sunlight you were basking in.

“I know you hate him right now,” Johnny begins, skipping over greetings to get to the point of his disruption. “But Jaehyun has oily skin, he’s been using the products you gave him for like three weeks, he really likes them, and he has a good following on Instagram.”

You take the phone handed to you begrudgingly and look at Jaehyun’s page. Thirteen thousand followers and quality pictures. You’re not blind, Jaehyun is conventionally attractive and looks like a model in the photos and boomerangs. Something is missing, though. “Eh.”

“‘Eh?’” Johnny parrots, confused. He doesn’t know a better last-minute model for you than Jaehyun.

“Something’s missing,” you explain with a shrug. You absentmindedly tap the profile icon at the bottom of the screen and Johnny’s Instagram profile pops up. The two of you follow each other, so it’s not like you’ve never seen his pictures, but it’s been a while since you actually paid attention to detail. He has eighteen thousand followers and apparently uploads his pictures following a color theme. There are pictures of himself, random people, and nature in a strategic flow. When you select a video to watch, you’re sold on the lighting, exposure, and the way he captured the woman’s features. “Sit.”

Johnny does so without any questions. You gently grab his jaw and study his face closely. His skin is supple and dewy, the sun highlighting his cheekbones and the bridge of his nose. Not that his skin was bad before he started using your products, but the texture and scarring have minimized quite a bit. Johnny doesn’t have the typical, bland model face your competitors love so much, especially with the slight stubble he’s got above his top lip and on his chin.

“What’s your skin type, John?”

“Oily,” he sighs, knowing what’s coming next. He was doing his job as your assistant, trying to make your life easier, but now he wishes he would’ve left this task to the social media department and stayed out of it.

You thought so. “Will you do this for me instead?”

“Do I look like an influencer to you?”

“Yes. I’ll double your next check and everything,” you promise him. “You actually have a personality and everything you post is quality. Women will love the eye candy and all types of men will take you seriously because you don’t have that annoying pristine, perfect look to you like Jaeyoung does.”

Johnny is here to fulfill your needs, so he knows you asking is really just you being polite. He doesn’t have much of a choice, especially with the lack of time you have. He is enjoying the warmth of your hand and the fact you referred to him as ‘eye candy,’ too. And who is he to say no to extra money?

“I’ll have it recorded and edited by midnight,” Johnny smiles, giving you the hope you need.

“Ugh, you’re the best,” you sigh in relief, shaking his face side to side affectionately before letting him go to stand up. You feel much better now. “Send it directly to me.”

Johnny stands up with you and leads the way, opening the door for you. “Yes, ma’am.”

Always true to his word, Johnny emails you two links at a quarter-till, with a message attached:

Good evening,

I edited two videos for you, one short enough for a regular post on the company’s page and the other that could be used for my IGTV for my followers. I hope these meet your expectations, but if there’s anything you need me to fix or redo, let me know and I’ll get right to it.

Sincerely,

John Suh

You get comfortable in your bed with your iPad and tap the first link. You make sure the brightness and volume are high enough to get the full effect, then press play. The quality of the film makes you assume he used a professional camera instead of his phone, and he gets a point for that.

“Hey,” Johnny starts with an awkwardly endearing smile. “I know this is a little different than what I usually post, but I got scouted by the skincare goddess herself to be an ambassador for Surreal’s new line of skincare, Ethereal.”

You grin at the nickname and note that with him being in the bathroom, there’s no echo in his audio, and that gives him another point.

“I’ve been using the four of the five products I’m about to introduce to you everyday for around a month and before I do my skincare routine for you, I’ll show you what my skin looked like before I started using these products with dates so you don’t think I’m just trying to sell you on them just because she’s been writing my checks for the last year,” Johnny chuckles, then the screen shows a selfie Johnny took with the date of a month ago from today, some hyperpigmentation and small bumps dotting his cheek and jaw.

Another point for including before and afters. You knew he’d meet your expectations without you having to say much.

“I’ll get up close and personal at the end so you can really see the results,” Johnny winks into the camera, causing you to blink.

You knew he’d have personality and that was one of the main reasons he was a great idea, and while in hindsight his actions are predictable, you shake your head. The fact that he’s actually charming makes you scoff, but you’re sure that the damn wink only worked on you right now because it’s almost midnight and you should be asleep right now. You won’t act like he hasn’t always been nice on the eyes, but he’s Johnny.

You can’t deny that you do thoroughly enjoy the Johnny presented to you through the screen, though.

“The first product is an oil-based cleanser because the SPF in this collection is oil-based as well,” Johnny explains, then proceeds to show the jar and small spatula that comes with it before he scooped some out, capturing the texture of the product well.

And that’s how the rest of the video plays out, the unusually deep, gentle tone of Johnny’s voice explaining how well each product works for his oily and acne-prone skin, lulling you into a relaxed state against your headboard. He keeps things short and simple, the video just barely passing three minutes and as promised, his face comes a lot closer to the screen, showing the faded scarring and smooth texture of what used to be his problem areas. Johnny ends the video with a sweet smile and says goodbye. The shorter video is edited to where he’s hardly talking, mostly just demoing your products, just the way you like things to be on the company’s page.

You did great, John. Thanks again for doing this last minute. You can come in at 10 am tomorrow since I had you working overtime today. Rest well.

Johnny is at your desk with your morning cup of tea at eight in the morning, a bright smile on his face as he tells you good morning.

You glare at him. “Why are you here?”

“Because it’s my job?” Johnny says, pretending like he doesn’t know what you’re referring to. You can read him well, though. You take the mug out of his hand before gesturing for him to take a seat in front of you.

“You’re either being hard-headed as usual, or you’re anxious about your video being uploaded. Which is it?”

And that wipes the bright smile off of his face.

“I slept three hours last night,” he confesses. “I’m not used to this kind of exposure.”

You take a couple of sips of your tea and quietly observe him, thinking.

“Would you prefer we didn’t post it, then?”

Your assistant looks at you as if you didn’t just speak one of the languages he’s fluent in. You just blink at him and continue drinking your beverage, waiting for him to either say yes or no in case you need to make other plans, again.

“You’d do that for me?” he finally says after a while of staring at you like you’re crazy.

“Why wouldn’t I?” you ask slowly. “You’ve proven how far you’d go for me and I appreciate it, but I care about you as a person and anxiety is a bitch, so I wouldn’t want you to be panicking over Jaejoon’s mistake.”

The corner of Johnny’s lift curls at your continued pettiness, and maybe his heart does a thing at the fact that you care that much about him. It’s obvious to everyone that he is the closest to you out of all of your employees; being your assistant means you let your guard down a little with him. Along with the more serious side of your personality everyone else gets (especially recently), he sees your soft side. You’re not an overly strict boss, but Johnny gets to see you smile more and pout (he’d lose his job if he admitted to you how endearing your pout is to him). But even with the closer relationship the two of you have, Johnny would’ve never expected you to choose his stage fright over your baby; your company.

“I couldn’t ask you to do that,” Johnny declines with a shake of his head. “I’ll be okay, I promise. Thank you for considering my feelings, though.”

You shrug, not about to press him on the issue. “Alright. I need you to post the IGTV at 2 pm and tag our page in an appropriate caption. I’d suggest you turn your notifications off for a while because as soon as you post it, it’s getting posted to our story then I’m sure you’re gonna get flooded with DM’s.”

“Flooded?’” Johnny asks, head tilted. “I mean, all I’ll have to do is copy and paste the same message answering any questions they might have about the products. Easy.”

You’re the one to look at him like he’s stupid this time. You set your mug down, lean back in your swivel chair, and clasp your hands over your stomach. “You can’t be that dense.”

“‘Dense?’” he asks.

“Are you a parrot?” you tsk. “But yes, dense. You know good and well most of the messages will have nothing to do with my products and everything to do with you.”

Johnny has the audacity to still be confused after your explanation.

“John, you realize you’re a good-looking guy with a likable personality, right?”

It’s not that he doesn’t know that. Johnny’s always been a pretty confident guy, with both his looks and personality. His confusion doesn’t stem from being blind or too humble. It’s the fact you of all people are telling him this right now.

“You think so?” he prompts, just to see how many compliments he can get out of you. This is a rare occasion.

“When you’re not being annoyingly happy-go-lucky and chill out, yes.” You reply. And now he’s pouting. That’s what he gets.

“I thought my cheerfulness brought joy to your days,” Johnny says with a dramatic hand on his heart, offended.

“What brings me joy is everything running smoothly and everyone doing their job,” you correct. He isn’t wrong, but you decide not to stroke his ego any more than you already have. And you’ve already said too much. “With that being said, you do everything I ask of you, and that brings me so much joy. You’re the perfect assistant, so don’t cry.”

“Is this your way of telling me to calm down?”

Your iPad buzzes against the wood of your desk and when you peek at it, you see it’s an email from Jaehyun with the subject: Today’s upload schedule.

“This is my way of telling you to get to work, honey.”

Johnny often finds himself slowly backing out of your office with his hands up in surrender, and he wouldn’t have it any other way. He loves the distinct differences between the two of you. He figures it’s why you work so well together and why he’s held this job position for over a year in comparison to the two assistants before him that both got fired before the six-month mark. Johnny’s also positive that you love his excessively positive nature (as Jaehyun has described Johnny’s personality before) somewhere deep down and that he brightens your day after dealing with idiots like Jaehyun.

When your assistant is out of sight, you grab your iPad, respond to Jaehyun’s email, and find yourself rewatching today’s scheduled video. Maybe more than once.

The video is up at 2 pm sharp and Johnny does as advised, turning his Instagram notifications off immediately. He even goes as far as taking his phone off of vibrate so he isn’t aware of any other notifications until he decides to look at his phone again. He’s got things to organize anyway, so the work he has to do takes his mind off of any anxiety within him.

That is until you appear at the doorway of his office an hour later. This is a rare occurrence, so Johnny can’t be blamed for staring at you, and in the process, he appreciates the very fitted pantsuit you’re wearing. You took off the blazer sometime in between when Johnny left your office hours ago and now, and he thinks that the blush pink blouse compliments your complexion and red lips very well. But of course it does. Everything you wear compliments everything about you perfectly.

Just one of the many observations Johnny has made in the past year.

“How do you feel?” you ask him. Your voice is always so calm and collected, even when you’re ripping someone to shreds because of idiocy. Johnny admittedly admires that about you.

“I’ve done everything under the sun to avoid my phone,” Johnny confesses with a weak laugh.

You nod. “Well, just know that I’ve had multiple companies and modeling agencies ask why I’ve been hiding you. So don’t be surprised if you have job opportunities waiting for you.”

“Wow… this means I can finally quit,” Johnny hardly whispers with a victorious fist pump.

“I wish the hell you would,” you deadpan, breaking Johnny’s act and causing him to laugh loudly at the lack of expression paired with your response. “You’re mine unless there’s a tragic accident, God forbid, or you’re moving up in the ranks.”

“Promise?”

“Promise,” you confirm, sending him a wink before turning on your heel and strutting back to your own office. Johnny licks his lips at the sight of the natural sway of your hips before shaking his head and getting back to working on the excel sheet staring at him.

“How is it that you all have the skills and training for the very simple tasks I ask you to complete, yet lack common sense and proper work ethic?”

Everyone in the room, excluding Johnny, just looks up at you from their seats, pitiful expressions on their faces. Their eyes follow you as you slowly walk to the other side of the room. You’re trying to stay calm and be professional, so pacing around the room is your best bet.

To Johnny, you look like you’re on a runway in slow motion, modeling the slim-fitting pencil skirt and red bottoms you’re adorning. Though still attentive to every word coming out of your mouth, Johnny lets himself get lost in each step you take because he’s not the one getting chewed out.

Mark, one of the newest additions to the marketing department, leans into Johnny’s side to whisper into his ear. “How have you managed to not fuck up and be on the receiving end of her talks yet?”

You don’t hear anything, but you see whispering happening, and now is not the time for side conversations. Johnny doesn’t even have the chance to turn to Mark or tell him to shut up until the end of the meeting before you’re speaking again.

“Mark Lee,” you call as you make your way towards him, causing him to sit up straight. “Is there something you’d like to say?”

“No, ma’am,” he responds nervously. Johnny internally shakes his head at Mark not being able to think quickly and lie. “My apologies.”

“Is there anything anyone wants to say or am I just a narcissist who loves talking to hear my lovely voice? Should I sing?” you ask, standing next to Johnny at the end of the conference table, hand on your hip. “Y’all want a performance?”

Johnny bites the inside of his cheek to refrain from laughing. Your sarcasm only intensifies the unsettled looks on everyone’s face and they all side-eye Jungwoo, their savior from the last time they got chewed out as a whole. Jungwoo raises his hand before saying, “There’s nothing we can say to excuse our actions—or lack thereof, but we will get right on it and do our jobs correctly this time. You won’t have to repeat yourself again.”

Johnny is impressed at how quickly your features soften. The ready-to-fire-someone look melts away as you nod at Jungwoo’s promise. You do have a bit of a soft spot for the latter, though, so it makes sense.

“I’ll take your word for it. You’re dismissed,” you announce, waving everyone off.

The room is empty, save for you and your assistant, in mere seconds.

“You’re going to give them nightmares,” Johnny chuckles, gathering your belongings before opening the door for you to exit the conference room. He laughs once more at your responding yawn.

“How? That was me on my best behavior,” you retort, your heels clicking loudly as you walk to the elevator. “And what was Lee whispering about?”

“Your employees are just amazed that I’ve kept you satisfied for so long.”

You walk into the elevator once the doors slide open and lean against the mirrored wall, arms crossed. Your eyes are squinted as you give Johnny a once over. He has done everything right since he completed his training. “You think you can keep me satisfied?”

There’s a challenging tone in your voice that causes Johnny to lick his lips. “I’d never disappoint you.”

Your response is a nod of your head paired with a drawn-out hum, and then you walk out of the elevator to your office once you hit your floor, walking ahead of Johnny without another word. You laugh at yourself when you replay the short conversation in your mind at the feeling you got in your gut at his response. And then you’re scoffing because, once again, it’s Johnny.

Johnny… Over six feet, amicable, charming, handsome as all hell Johnny. The scene of him licking his lips and saying those four words in that promising, deep voice in the elevator flashes through your mind once you’re seated at your desk. Your fingernail taps against the wood as you roll your lips together, stuck in your head. The ironic conclusion you come to before getting back to work is that you’re working way too much and just lacking male attention because there’s no other plausible reason for your goofy-ass assistant to have been on your mind so much for the last couple of days.

“Really?” Johnny asks when he walks in and sees you slumped over your desk.

Your eyes flutter open at his voice.

“I was just resting my eyes” you yawn, waving him off.

“What work is there possibly left for you to do at this point?” The products go on the market tomorrow, meaning all the work that had to be done in preparation for the launch was completed before everyone left today (the marketing department got their shit together quickly because they know about your policy and how unforgiving you are when the deadline is right around the corner). The only thing left for your marketing team to do tomorrow is look over everything once more and then you’re free to sit back and wait for customers to buy the new products and idly watch over social media if you really wanted to. It frustrates Johnny that you always find something extra to do.

“I was doing some last minute, um”— another yawn —“touches on the-”

“Well, that’s enough,” Johnny interrupts your explanation, walking around to your side of the desk and plucking the pen out of your hand.

You just nod and lean back in your ridiculously big swivel chair, blinking up at him slowly, because he’s right. There’s literally nothing else for you to do and you have the most full coverage concealer under your eyes; you need to rest.

“Am I driving you home tonight?” He asks as he packs your belongings into the massive purse on the box by your feet then places it on your desk so he doesn’t have to bend back down to retrieve it.

“Yeah, I don’t feel like moving,” you mumble, thankful you spent so much money on the chair you’re oh-so comfortable in.

Johnny puts his hands out for you to grab, and once you do so, he pulls you up. You groan and lean forward into him to catch your balance after not being on your feet for many hours, but then Johnny’s hand on firm on the middle of your lower back, and the pressure makes you stay. He’s just helping you steady yourself, a position you’ve been in once or twice before because you like to push your limits (says both your therapist and your assistant), but he smells good and he’s warm; his presence is comforting. It always has been, which is why he’s made the perfect assistant for you.

“Are you okay?” he asks, looking down at the top of your head that simply nods in response.

“Think I pushed my limit,” you admit, much to your assistant’s surprise. It’s not that you’re prideful, but you don’t exactly like showing weakness, especially in front of your employees.

Though tempted to just let you rest your head on his chest because he doesn’t mind the proximity at all and knows you’re somehow comfortable, Johnny makes sure you’re standing steadily by yourself so he can drape your coat over your shoulders. He grabs your purse and wraps an arm around your waist then guides you out of your office, all the way to the parking garage, saying goodbye to the confused cleaning staff on his way out.

He presses the button on the handle of the passenger side’s door to unlock it, opens the door, then fits you inside of his car. Johnny leans over your body to buckle your seat belt, and when he’s back away, he catches you looking at him with a look he can’t quite decipher.

“What’s up?”

You shake your head and blink slowly. “I just really appreciate you, John.”

Johnny just nods to save face and closes the door before making his way to the driver’s seat. He’s not quite sure how to feel or respond to the soft-spoken, sleepy side of you since it’s been months since the one other time you’ve been in a similar situation, and he wasn’t as smitten as he is now.

You’re fighting your sleep because even though you trust Johnny, you want to be as aware during this trip to your house. It’s a hard feat, though. His car is big and comfortable and the hum of the engine is trying to lull you into a deep sleep.

Johnny looks over at you after getting on the main road and notices your internal fight.

“You can fall asleep, you know.”

“You might take my organs.”

“I would’ve done that a long time ago if I wanted to,” Johnny humors you. His response brings a small smile to your face, and that keeps a smile on his own.

“You have a really pretty smile, John.”

“Thank you,” Johnny says, figuring it’s just your exhaustion talking.

“I’m almost jealous of how pretty your lips are,” you sigh, mouth not filtering your thoughts at this point of exhaustion (you’ve gotten 10 hours of sleep in the last week, but no one, especially not Johnny, needs to know that). You don’t care enough to try to “correct” yourself because the pretty curl of his lips gets even deeper.

“Really?” Johnny asks, trying his luck again because he’s sure tonight isn’t like the other day in your office. “You think my lips are pretty?”

You hum and cuddle into his seat even more. After staring at his profile a while longer, you tell him, “I think you’re pretty.”

That makes him laugh again, taken aback at the string of compliments coming out of your mouth towards him of all people. It’s not that you’re mean or don’t applaud him for his great work, but this is a very different side of you that he’s seeing. He likes it.

“That’s a first, but I’ll take it,” he says, taking a moment to look at you again before focusing on the road again. “Thank you.”

“Are you used to hearing ‘handsome?’ ‘Fine?’ ‘Sexy?’” You notice how Johnny’s brows lift. “Too far?”

He shakes his head. “No, you’re good. I like you when you’re nice.”

“You like me regardless,” you say with a sassy scoff, pretending to flip your hair even though it’s slicked back in a low bun, the same as every workday.

Johnny nods slowly, contemplating if he should humor you or just laugh you off. It literally takes him 0.5 seconds to go with the former option because he’s been waiting for the day the two of you step out of professional talk and get into something more personal, specifically between the two of you. “You got me there. I mean, what isn’t there to like?”

Your eyes squint as you analyze him and process his words. There’s a subtle but still very noticeable shift in the air after his question, and while you’re sure it’s your fault for letting your exhaustion let you feel comfortable enough to open your mouth and start spewing out nice things to your assistant, his response is enough to keep it up. It also doesn't help that this is a far more intimate setting than work.

“Be careful, you keep saying things like that and I’ll think you have a crush on me,” you tease him, chuckling at the snort he responds with.

Before Johnny snitches on himself, he flips the script. “Says the one staring at my lips long enough to deem them ‘pretty’ and calling me pretty, of all things.”

“Well,” you start as your gaze goes right back to his mouth at the mention of it. “It would be unprofessional of me to tell you that I think you’re fine as hell, so,” you shrug.

You and Johnny have always had a bit of banter between the two of you, and while this topic isn’t something that’s been covered before, it’s hard to really care when you feel comfortable enough to cross that line right now. If he hadn’t been playing along, you wouldn’t have said anything more than the simple compliment from earlier, but with the reciprocity, the logical voice within gets pushed away. Exhaustion isn’t much of an excuse at this point because that high from tiredness has passed.

The timing of the traffic light turning red is a little too perfect. Johnny takes the opportunity to look at you again, and something lights up in his chest when he catches how your eyes travel up from his mouth to look into his own eyes at his attention.

“It would be unprofessional,” he agrees with another nod of his head. “But I can’t say the feeling isn’t mutual.”

You hum and nod. “Good to know.”

“You must not be sleeping well for you to be throwing out compliments like that.” Johnny leans onto the middle counsel.

“I’m not saying anything I haven’t thought of for a while.” You tell him after a beat, choosing to reply honestly since you’re already here. Johnny quirks a brow to prompt you to elaborate, and you do so, mirroring his position and propping your chin in your hand. His face is a lot closer now, but you keep your eyes on his own orbs to avoid losing focus. “I hired you because of your experience and skill set, but I knew it wouldn’t hurt to have some eye-candy around me. Pretty privilege and all,” you wave a nonchalant hand. “You were perfect until you opened your mouth.”

“You can never be nice to me for long, can you?” he snorts.

“You’re perfect tonight, though,” you add on, specifically for the quirk of Johnny’s mouth that comes from the praise. Yeah, you failed the challenge.

“How so?” Johnny questions, quickly checking to see if the light has changed yet. It hasn’t, and for once in his life he’s grateful for a long light. He feels good about where this conversation could possibly get him after a year of silently admiring you, so good that he not-so-subtly gets even closer, definitely in your bubble, but nothing too crazy.

“You’re calm and collected and taking care of me,” you admit. The silent deep breath you take to calm yourself grants you access to the scent of Johnny’s cologne again, and your mind is so close to deciding that logic is unnecessary. A tiny voice in the back of your mind has been trying to get your attention and steer you in the opposite direction of the one you’ve decided to take, with how you tilt your head up to get just a little closer to him.

“You like being taken care of?”

“I love it,” you confess, and Johnny takes the chance to tuck a stray hair behind your ear as he hums, content with your response. Definitely an excuse to test the waters and see how far he can go and how willing you are to really cross this line. You turn your face into his hand so he cups your jaw, but then there’s a horn sounding behind you because the light is green, and Johnny begrudgingly has to pay attention to the road. You blink, the trance you found yourself in with him so close but so far away dissipating, the situation becoming a lot more real now that he’s out of your space. You slump back into your seat and look out of the window, that voice becoming louder and grounding you as you take another deep breath. “But allowing myself to be vulnerable with someone like that? Yikes.”

He knows your defense mechanism is trying to kick in, but he’s not having it.

“Aside from me?”

You hum. “Not quite…”

You set yourself up. From that moment in the elevator to now, you’ve been digging your own grave, and Johnny has done nothing but assist you, encourage you to dig deeper. You’re not sleepy anymore, there’s no more foggy brain from earlier when he found you asleep in the office. Just desire you’ve done a grand job of ignoring up until the last few days. But unfortunately, you have to remind yourself you’ve been ignoring it for a reason.

Your assistant almost doesn’t say anything because he loves his job and you clearly switched the direction of the conversation for a reason, but so much (yet so little) has already been said during your time in the car and you’ve already said enough to get the gears in his head turning.

“So you mean a different type of care?”Johnny asks. He pulls into your driveway and parks. He wants to get back to the space the two of you were at when stopped at that light, but you’re already unbuckling your seat belt and grabbing your purse, signifying that the moment is long gone. That doesn’t stop him from trying, though. “Do you need me to walk you in?”

“I think I’ve got it now, thanks.” You need to get inside and get some sleep. Are you running right now? Of course. You’re a responsible person and the most responsible thing for you to do as the woman that signs his paychecks, is to get the fuck away from him before he persuades you, because you both know it’s possible.

“Let me rephrase that:” he licks his pretty lips and your fist balls up around your purse’s straps. “Do you want me to walk you in? I know you didn’t need me to do most of what I’ve done tonight, but you let me because you wanted me to.” His ability to read you so well is both a blessing and a curse. “Now would you like for me to continue taking care of you tonight or not?”

You do. You absolutely do. You’re tempted to say yes in the case you don’t end up alone tonight, but you know it’s not a good idea. And you’re sure the atmosphere of this car ride will disappear by the time you wake up. At least that’s what you tell yourself because you know, ethics.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” you tell Johnny, opening the door and stepping out. “Thanks for the ride. Drive safe.”

Johnny watches you walk up to your door, unlock it, then disappear into your house. He lets out a deep sigh before backing out of your driveway and driving home.

Tea, fruit slices, and avocado toast are set down in front of you the moment you walk behind your desk.

“Good morning,” Johnny greets you calmly. “Your eleven o’clock meeting has been pushed back thirty minutes, so I’d suggest using the opportunity to get out of the building and get some fresh air. You know, get away from electronics and people to recharge.”

That’s exactly what you’ll do. You’re going to be monitoring the Instagram engagement and website sales for a while, even though you pay people to be on top of numbers, so a break will definitely be needed.

“I love your brain, you know that?” you ask, looking up at him once your jacket and bag are off of your body, meeting his eye. The corner of Johnny’s mouth twitches.

“I told you I’d never disappoint you.”

“And I’m holding you to that.” You ignore the fact that there’s definitely another meaning behind his words. You can’t say the tension that last night’s conversation produced has gone away completely, but it’s weak enough for you to ignore it and stick to the amicable atmosphere the two of you have built for the last year plus.

“Would it be alright if I accompanied you during your walk?” Johnny prompts after a moment of him just standing there, pursing his lips together to refrain himself from grinning at you. “There’s something I’d like to run by you because I trust your opinion as my boss and my friend.”

“We’re friends?” you joke, settling into your seat.

“Last time I checked,” he responds, unfazed. “We could be even closer if you let yourself be vulnerable with me.”

And there it is.

“John,” you say after a brief pause. He’s got his hands in his pockets, face mostly void of emotion. Johnny doesn’t want things to go back to normal, and he’s decided to let you know in the most subtle, yet obvious way. Why ignore the feeling when it’s clearly mutual?

“Yes, boss?”

“You can leave now.”

The grin on the male’s face falters. He examines you to see just how serious you are, and he knows this isn’t one of your playful banter moments. He tries to call your name, either to ease the situation and tell you it was just a bad joke or to apologize, but you just remove your attention from him and get on your iPad.

And when he’s out of the room, the door closed behind him, you let out a frustrated sigh. Up until you fell asleep, if you weren’t thinking about your launch, you were thinking about him. If you weren’t thinking about the numbers from your last launch and the possibility of exceeding them, you were thinking of the way you felt and the words he said while you were in that intimate bubble before the horn honked at him. You had to take a couple melatonin gummies to shut your mind up and knock out. The sleep was amazing, the best you’d had in a while, but then when you were conscious again, Johnny was back.

You could have done without stepping into uncharted territory last night. To him, it may not seem as deep as you’re making it out to be, but there’s too much on the line for you. Your professionalism. Your pride. Your job, quite possibly. His job. You could pay him off if you decided to fire him, but you don’t want to deal with bribes making you feel like a shitty person. You don’t want a new assistant. You want Johnny.

At that very last thought, you pick up the phone and call Jaehyun to have him run the plan by you one more time. He thinks it’s because of his fuck up from before, and you just let him think that.

Thankfully, Johnny is out of your way until later in the night. He didn’t try to accompany you on your walk, but he has no choice but to be here at the company outing taking place to celebrate your products selling out within 4 hours.

All shots are on you, so your employees are taking advantage of this, recording as everyone clinks their shot glasses together and downs the painful alcohol down. You’re two shots in and you mentally note that three is your limit for tonight. Maybe four. You’re already a bit of a lightweight, and there’s no way in hell you’re going to make a fool of yourself in front of your employees. Regardless, you’re having a pretty good time. As a gift, your best friend rented out the bar, so it’s empty save for your large group, and Joohyun’s presence is a godsend. She’s being friendly enough to your employees and for the most part she hasn’t left your side, being the comfort she doesn’t realize you need.

“Congrats again, babe,” she says excitedly to you, pushing another shot in front of you as she scoots into the seat next to you. “Can we take that vacation in Bora Bora now that you’re free and even richer?” Her teasing smile makes you crack one of your own and sigh.

“You know that trip is for August. Be patient, Bae.”

She rolls her eyes but her expression doesn’t falter. Her gaze wanders a bit as she sips from her mixed drink and then she’s looking at you expectantly. You raise a brow to prompt her.

“How is it that all of your employees are hot as fuck?” she asks bluntly. “Even the women.”

You take a glance around like you don’t remember what everyone looks like. “I mean, I guess.”

“Especially a certain assistant.”

“Go for it,” you tell her, nodding in his direction. The said male is at the bar ordering something with his arm draped over Jaehyun’s shoulders, the two of them laughing about whatever the latter just said.

“You know that’s not why I said that,” Joohyun scoffs, swatting at your arm. You may have mentioned to her a while ago that your assistant is very nice on the eyes and you sometimes enjoy watching him as he does his job. “Plus, Jaehyun’s more my type.”

You shrug. “I’m sure they’d be down for a threesome.”

Your best friend hits you once again. “What’s with your mood? You’re not acting like someone who just sold out in only a few hours.”

Before she decided to bring a certain assistant up, you were doing pretty well. You’d been able to not look at him for too long or even have to speak to him much aside from a greeting and his congratulations before he was by Jaehyun’s side and Joohyun was by yours. But now, with him being mentioned, your eyes are having a hard time pulling away from his figure. His tie is loosened and the top few buttons of his shirt are undone. His sleeves are rolled up right under his elbows and show off the tattoo on his arm.

You rip your eyes off of him and down your shot. Yeah, you’re thinking four.

Joohyun’s incredulous laugh brings your attention back to her. “You didn’t.”

“What?”

She leans into your side to whisper, “You’re in a mood because of Johnny?”

You side-eye her because you don’t like how quickly she read you, and her smile grows wide.

“Oh, my—you slept with Johnny?!” she continues to whisper-yell.

“No,” you hiss. “I did not. But I could have and that’s the issue.”

“Not seeing the issue?” She’s always been the little devil on your left shoulder. “The only reason I brought him up is because I’ve noticed how often you have his attention when you’re not even in the same area. And I know the difference between a look of concern and a look of want. He’s got a good ratio of both going on.”

“Okay, Miss Couple’s Therapist,” you mutter. “You ever heard of conflict of interest?”

And that shuts her up. Only for a few seconds, though.

“All I’m saying is I know you’ve thought about it… and you’re probably thinking about it now,” she giggles, making it hard for you to keep glaring at her. “I’m just trying to help you understand that it wouldn’t be a bad thing if there is a mutual understanding between the two of you on what flies and what cannot and shall not happen regarding the matter. You’re both consenting adults and it’s obvious he’d be on his knees for you with the snap of a finger.”

You decide against telling her about last night’s situation nor do you let her know you’re considering her words. That you’ve been considering the whole thing for days.

You change the subject instead, asking her about how her latest trip overseas went.

It lasts for only so long when Johnny and Jaehyun make their way over to your table.

They greet the two of you and you give a nod, choosing now to be the perfect time to check your notifications, while Joohyun says, “Hey guys.”

“Why are you checking your phone when you should be enjoying your time?” Johnny asks right by your ear, his voice lacking excitement but instead low enough to almost make your thumb falter as you scroll. “Get off your phone and celebrate, please?”

You make the mistake of looking up. He’s too close to your face to use the music playing through the speakers in the bar as an excuse. His eyes don’t have their usual playful glint in them. They look down at you with a purpose, and you’re kind of embarrassed at how fast you comply with his request. You drop the device into your purse and zip it up for extra measures.

“Thank you,” he smiles. “I got this for you two, by the way.”

Johnny slides a plate of your favorite wings on the table.

“Aw thank you, Johnny,” Joohyun coos, shooting you an annoyingly smug glance. “Are you gonna sit with us?”

“Is that okay with you, boss?” Jaehyun asks after sharing a look with his friend.

“Have at it,” you smile tightly, gesturing to the seats across from you. While they make themselves comfortable, you steal your best friend’s shot and actively ignore the way she looks at you from the corner of her eye.

Joohyun and Jaehyun fall into conversation easily after she compliments the watch he’s wearing. You nibble on some celery, actively ignoring how Johnny’s still too close. He subtly squeezes your knee to get your attention, and when he’s got it, he tilts his head in the direction of the bar.

“I drank enough,” you tell him with a shake of your head.

“It’s not about a drink. I would like to speak to you alone, please,” Johnny explains in a whisper. A tiny voice in your mind says hell no because of what Joohyun has put in your head, but the rational voice reminds you that he is your assistant and you can’t avoid him forever.

You tell your best friend that you’re gonna get a drink and that you’ll be back, and when she notices Johnny getting up with you she nods with a whisper of a smirk on her lips all without breaking the conversation she’s having.

“What’s up?” you ask once seated on a barstool, at least a few seats away from everyone else.

“I’m sorry about earlier. I was trying to make light of the situation and I took it too far. As for last night, it was wrong of me to make a proposition like, so I want to apologize for that, as well.”

You nod as he speaks, letting his words process in your brain.

“I spoke out of line last night and gave you an opening, so that part was on me. I apologize and I hope we can move forward from it. Thank you for your apology.” You try to get up and make your way back to your table quickly, but Johnny gently grabs your hand until he knows you’ll stay in your seat.

For a moment he wanted to just apologize so you can stop being distant with him and he can stop purposely avoiding you for your space, but your response rubs him the wrong way and now he doesn’t really want to drop it. He wants to talk about it because the topic clearly came up for a reason last night and he’s tired of denying how he feels towards you, especially now that he knows he’s not alone after a while of thinking there was no way in hell his little crush would even get him this far.

“Can you not shut me out right now?”

You really don’t like his ability to see through you.

“I accepted your apology and gave you the one you deserved... how am I shutting you out?” you bullshit him anyway.

“I’m not gonna pretend that what happened last night didn’t happen. I can’t,” Johnny tells you honestly. “Can I speak to you as a friend instead of your employee for a moment?”

“I guess,” you shrug.

“As your friend, what I say cannot be held against me as your assistant.”

“Whatever, John. Go ahead.”

“I want you,” he confesses, and there’s really no going back from here. “I am very attracted to you and when you spoke about wanting to be vulnerable and taken care of last night it only made me want you more. And if there’s anyone you can let your guard down with and that will take great care of you, it’s me, and you know this.”

All you can do is stare at him for a while. If you hadn’t had that conversation with Joohyun a while ago you would not still be in this seat, letting him know you’re truly considering his proposition. The dip in your gut at his confession confirms your feelings, but your brain and your body conflict.

Can you separate business from pleasure in this instance?

If you allow your desires to become reality and it’s nothing like what you imagined, you’d never be able to look at him the same, no matter how good he is at his job. You’d either have to fire him or become so distant he’d want to quit. Would a bribe really have to be offered for the well-being of your precious company? The thought alone rubs you the wrong way.

But if you’re being honest with yourself, you just know it wouldn’t be a bad experience because it’s Johnny. He’s calculated and good at anything that gets thrown at him. You truly believe him when he says he’d never disappoint you. But how will you go about seeing him five days a week without seeing him in a different light? You’re professional but there would definitely be a change in your dynamic.

“I adore you as my assistant, John,” you finally speak up after too long. “And I do consider you a friend. I just don’t want to compromise our relationship over lust.��

“It’s not just lust, though,” Johnny states. “I’m not in love with you or anything but I care about you and want to take care of you the way we both know you need and deserve.”

He’s saying all of the right things and it’s almost as if the universe is rubbing him in your face. Your control is slipping and you don’t like it. You would love to be taken care of. You crave it. Running a business right before the age of thirty comes with so much stress and bullshit and you haven’t been taken care of in years, at least not properly. You’re content with being single because you give yourself everything you need and you love having your own space, but it does get lonely sometimes. And you can’t do everything yourself, at least not to the extent you need. Your eyes scan down from his face to his hands and your resolve gets a little weaker.

“I’m not going to push you, okay? I just had to let you know that I’m here to help you in many more ways than in the office and that if anything were to ever happen, my lips are sealed. I’d even sign a damn contract if that meant I could have you for just one whole day.”

“A whole day?” you ask before you can stop your curiosity from being known.

“I can’t elaborate on that. I can talk to you as a friend all I want but I know that too much detail can fuck up my job if you’re not down and I’m perfectly content with my job right now.”

He’s so vague, yet he’s said just the right amount. It’s easy to imagine what exactly could be in store if you release your inhibitions and just agree, but it’s not that easy. And Johnny understands that.

“Just think about it, alright?” He requests, and you nod slowly. “What drink would you like?”

“I’ve already had four shots—”

“No one said it had to be alcoholic,” Johnny laughs.

“Hello?” Johnny’s morning voice grumbles.

“Okay.”

It’s quiet on the other end of the line for a while as Johnny wakes up and decodes your single word. When he understands, his smile can be heard through his next words.

“Would you prefer I go to you or you come here?”

“I’ll go to you.”

“How does noon sound?”

“Good,” you nod, even though he can’t see the movement.

“Alright. There’s a couple of questions I have before you come over, though,” he tells you, his voice suddenly a lot more serious than it was before.

“Okay, go ahead,” you sigh, curling into a ball on your sofa.

“Do you trust me?”

“I do.” Of course you trust him. Johnny smiles at how quick your answer. “You know that.”

“Trusting me with your work and trusting me with your mind and body are completely different things,” he tells you matter-of-factly. “But yes, I did know. I just needed to ask.”

“I clearly trust you enough to be hours away from going to your place without thinking you’re gonna exploit or blackmail me.”

“And I appreciate it. As I said, I’ll sign a contract if you’re still in your head about it.” At the dismissive response you give him, he continues with his questions. “We’re not gonna be weird about this before, during, and especially after everything, right?”

“No, I won’t be weird,” you chuckle, knowing his ‘we’ translates to ‘you.’ “It would’ve took me way longer to give you an answer if I was still gonna be weird or standoffish.”

“What made you change your mind so quickly?”

You blink at the tree on the other side of your window blankly. It took less than a day to give him a response, and while he may have popped up in your dream last night, Joohyun was right. You want him and he’s not shy about letting you know how much he wants you in return, so why play this game of tiptoeing and faux unclarity?

“You’re asking too many questions now,” you deadpan. “I’ll see you later.”

The last thing you hear before you hang up is Johnny laughing quietly to himself, sounding endeared.

You’ve always been punctual, so when you knock on his door, it’s twelve on the dot. And Johnny was expecting this, with it only taking him a couple of seconds to unlock and open the door for you.

“Hey,” he greets you with a smile and you immediately take in his appearance, having never been around Johnny in anything but formal wear. You take in how he looks in the comfort of his own home, his brown hair is parted down the middle in comparison to how he always has it pushed back, and his fitted white tee shirt and joggers are a stark difference from the button-downs and slacks he usually adorns around you. He looks good either way, you note.

“Hey.”

You walk past him into his home and take your shoes off, and while pleasantries are exchanged, it’s Johnny’s turn to give you elevator eyes. The grey color of your athletic wear draws attention to the curve of your ass and hips. Your hair isn’t in its signature style, but out and flowing about freely. When you turn back around to face him he notices you don’t have your typical red lipstick on, just a clear sheen covering your lips. He didn’t think you could look any better, but here he is, being proven wrong.

You’re guided down a hallway and into his room, and the first thing you notice is a cute stuffed animal on his dresser. One you remember buying him for his birthday because that was his only request, seeing that it was limited edition.

“I still can’t believe you wanted this of all things,” you laugh fondly, picking it up and examining it.

“You gave me a budget and this fit in it,” Johnny shrugs, coming up behind you. His chest molds into your back naturally, causing you to look up from the plushie and up at him through the mirror in front of you. “There was no way in hell I was coming out of pocket for that myself when you were willing to spend big bucks on me.”

You relax into his chest, the vibration against your back a very pleasant feeling. “Touché.”

The last few days of building sexual frustration did nothing to prepare you for the suffocating blanket of tension that envelopes you once Johnny lifts your head up to the side and presses one of the gentlest kisses to your lips. Followed by another chaste one, and another until you find yourself chasing his lips.

“Feel free to bite into it when it becomes too much for you,” Johnny graciously offers in a whisper that tickles your lips.

You scoff, amused by his confidence.

“I’m a grown ass woman,” you remind him. “I promise you there’s nothing I couldn’t handle.”

“And I’m gonna hold you to that.” He nods, using your own words against you. You’re turned around by his hands on your hips until you’re facing him. A moment of silent eye contact translate to him challenging you before his pretty, soft lips slowly slide in time with yours.

The longer he kisses you, the more your body melts into his. You find yourself being pulled forward, him walking backwards. The kiss interrupted when he sits down at the foot of his bed, but then you’re pulled onto his lap, straddling him to resume it. A hand on the side of his face prompts him to deepen the kiss, and your mouth instantly opens when you feel his tongue brush against your bottom lip, the wet muscle minty when it touches your own and you curl yours around it to get an even better taste.

Your hands find his hair as his own grip your ass, pulling a muffled whimper out of you. And then you’re flipped onto your back, legs falling apart to give Johnny freedom to stand. He swiftly takes his shirt off and then he’s interrupted by your palms glide up his abdomen. You’ve never felt small around practically anyone in your adult years, but with how he hovers over you, you feel tiny. You know he and Jaehyun have been going to the gym frequently, but at this angle, you can really appreciate just how big and broad he is.

Originally, you figured you’d give him the reign to do whatever he wanted and you’d bask in being a pillow princess for once in your life, but in the position you’ve found yourself in, with his print in your face, you drag your hands back south and tug his waistband down.

Johnny just watches you silently until he understands you’re doing more than just assisting him with stripping. Your hand grabs hold of his semi (your mouth waters at how hung he is and you briefly wonder how you never noticed before), his sweatpants forgotten halfway down his thighs. The way your eyes have tunnel vision and you lick your lips tells him your plan. “You wanna suck my dick?” he asks anyway, making sure he accessed this correctly.

Your eyes fly up to meet his gaze. “Yeah. You want me to?”

“You think I’d ever say no to you?”

His response goes straight in between your legs, so you focus your attention back on his dick, which has grown some during the time of your small interaction, and you might be a little more excited about this than you initially thought you’d be.

You let spit fall from your mouth onto his tip, then spread it down with your hand. You flick your wrist up and down a few times and lean forward, licking a broad stripe up his shaft. At the deep exhale he releases, you glance up at him through your lashes, and the sight of him with his jaw tightened in anticipation makes you want to give him so much more, so you suck the tip into your mouth.

Fingers move your hair behind your ear for you and if you still had any inhibitions at this point, they’re lost now. Your head bobs back and forth slowly as you continue to look him in his eyes; it’s hard to look anywhere else when you’ve never been looked at so intensely in this position. You gather spit on the tip of your tongue and spread it across his head, circling the wet muscle around it until he hums and you need to feel the weight of him back inside.

“Tap my leg, okay?”

You furrow your brows at his words, but your silent question is answered when there’s a hand on the back of your head and the tip of his dick hits the back of your throat lightly as if in warning before his hips pull back then he’s back in your throat. Your hands come up to his thighs as he sets a slow pace to fuck your face, and when his head falls back the moment he realizes he can go as far as he wants, you close your eyes and prepare for the onslaught you know you’re about to take.

Johnny’s hips instantly pick up speed and roughness, and while he’s still in control of himself, he loses a bit of sanity. After a year of silent pining and thinking this would never happen, he’s fucking his boss's face, and of course, of fucking course you don’t have a gag reflex.

You stick your tongue out flat to lick at the bottom of his shaft as he does the rest of the work and the feeling of spit bubbling out the sides of your mouth and making its way down your chin digs your fingers into his skin since you can’t clench your thighs together. Your hair is gathered for extra leverage, and the pull of your scalp is such a delicious feeling you moan helplessly just when your nose comes in contact with trimmed hairs.

“Shit,” he hisses, picking his head back up to watch as he slows back down but thrusts in rougher. You clearly enjoy being used like this, spit traveling down your chin to the point of landing on your jacket and darkening the material. You’re a mess in the best possible way, and this is an image that will haunt his memory for a very long time.

More of his resolve crumbles at the feeling of your hands curling around to his butt to press him even closer into you, even further down your throat. You haven’t even been touched, barely kissed, but you’re lightheaded and extremely aroused. While he contemplates if he should cum down your throat or wait until he’s buried in your pussy, you’re silently hoping he lets you taste him soon.

Johnny drags his dick out of your mouth at an extremely slow pace, and how you wrap your lips around him and open your hooded, darkened eyes to look at him again shoots a shiver of pleasure up his spine.

“Never would’ve thought,” he says around an amused exhale.

“Hm?” you prompt, releasing him with a loud pop.

“Nothing.” He shakes his head. He grips his dick with his free hand and taps the tip on your awaiting tongue, amused and extremely turned on. Smearing fluids over your tongue and lips, he softly demands: “Play with your pussy for me.”

The smile you give him is a concoction of wicked and endearing. He releases your hair as you manage to wiggle out of your leggings. You soaked through your lace and leggings, you both notice, and Johnny stops you with a disapproving hum when you make a move to remove your panties as well. You squint, he laughs and shakes his head.

“Over your panties.” You roll your eyes but listen nonetheless, slipping your hand in between your thighs. The material is extremely wet to the touch, and the slickness helps with making the friction pleasurable when your fingertips find your clit and begin rubbing circles. “Slowly.”

Johnny finds your huff of frustration adorable.

The tip of his dick taps your mouth again to gain your attention. You suck spit up to the front of your mouth, then your mouth is stretched wide once again, hand back in your hair.

Having your throat fucked with the additional pleasure on your clit, even with the slow pace you’re forced to go at, has you practically whining, the sound going in and out as he goes in and out your mouth. That vibration only spurs Johnny to grip your locks tighter and thrust in deeper to feel as much as your mouth and throat offer.

“You were made for this, huh?”

“Mhm,” you affirm, eyes rolling back at the way he pulls your hair to tip your head back and get a different, much better angle.

Johnny honestly didn’t expect you to submit so easily to him. The visual of your face all messy, eyes hardly opened to look into his eyes and hair out of place while touching yourself sparks that feeling in his lower abdomen.

“You want me to cum in your mouth?” You hum again and even with a mouth full of dick you manage to smile. You’re getting what you wanted. “Don’t swallow it until I tell you to.”

It takes a few more strokes for Johnny to fulfill your wish. The moment his head falls back again you use your free hand to caress his balls, and that does it. He leaves the tip in so that his cum pools onto your tongue and strokes every drop out. The groan he lets out causes you to unintentionally swipe at your clit faster, but he’s distracted anyway.

“Let me see,” Johnny says after collecting himself and stepping back. You straighten your head so none slides down your throat and open your mouth wider for his inspection. He smiles in approval, wishing he could take a picture of the sight before him. “Swallow.”

You lick your lips and wipe away all the spit that traveled outside of your mouth with the sleeve of your jacket after doing so.

Johnny completely removes his pants before he leans down to kiss you again. His tongue languidly licks against the seam of your mouth for an entrance that you grant instantly. While it curls around your own and he gets a taste of himself, Johnny’s hand guides you to bend one leg and he caresses your outer thigh.

“Good?” Johnny asks for extra measure, lips just barely dragging across your cheek to press opened mouth kisses on your jaw. Your head automatically tilts to the opposite side to give him more real estate. You hum, your mouth a bit preoccupied with how your teeth have trapped your bottom lip.

Your breath stutters at the gentle scrape of his teeth along the length of your neck after he unzips the high neck of your top to expose more skin. Whichever scent you chose to put on today has Johnny latched onto your neck for a while, kissing, licking, nibbling the skin to the point of your breath coming out a lot louder than before and the seat on your underwear getting uncomfortably wetter. You’re throbbing at this point and not being touched enough, so you claw at his sides and call his name quietly.

Johnny eventually spreads your legs more and maneuvers himself in between them. Both of your legs bend at the knee to accommodate his large build in the middle of them, and the hand that isn’t keeping himself propped up by your head kneads your hip.

“You know how long I’ve been wanting to get you like this?”

“How long?” you prompt, voice hardly above a whisper.

“Since the day you gave me a tour of the building,” he admits and slowly rises until he’s up on his knees.

“That’s a long time,” you respond lamely, hardly caring when your pussy is practically screaming at you to be touched. He raises a brow, and when he looks back up at your face, your lip is back in between your teeth.

If he doesn’t touch you soon you might explode.

“I’ve wanted this for a while, too,” you decide to confess, hoping it gets you somewhere. And it does. It’s almost like you’re rewarded for it by Johnny walking back on his knees until he’s far enough to settle on his stomach, face barely inches away from the apex of your thighs. He subconsciously licks his lips at the smell of you. He’s been wanting to taste you for so long now, but he refrains himself because he sees how you’re affected by the lack of attention to your heat. He promised he’d take care of you and that’s exactly what he’s going to do. But not before breaking you.

“Wish you would’ve told me sooner,” he eventually tells you after having you hold your breath for way too long.

“You know I couldn’t.” The way Johnny looks at you, attentive to every word that comes out of your mouth while he smoothly scoops your legs over his shoulders to wrap his arms around your thighs, makes you continue speaking. “Seems like everything fell into place, though.”

Johnny nods, rests his head on one of your thighs, and looks up at you, brown eyes still watching your mouth intently, as he unhooks one of his arms to push your right leg further to the side. His fingers are soon on your center, gliding up and down your slit, bumping into your clit with each pass.

“I guess it did.”

Before you can reply, he adds more pressure behind his touch, and your hips just barely lift to get even more. The smile you get in return is attractive as all hell but annoying. He knows exactly what he’s doing to you or he’s just really enjoying himself. Either way, you’re getting more impatient by the second, if the way your hips rise to grind your core against his fingers again says anything.

“Stay still for me, okay?” You almost pout because you need more, but you promised to give him total control of the situation and you’ve done well thus far, so you press your ass back into his comforter. “There you go.”

Your pussy clenches around nothing.

The light pressure on your clit is soon gone and then the zipper of your jacket gets dragged down all the way. “Take this off for me.”

Sitting up, you do as told. You toss it where your leggings had been dropped and now you’re presented in front of the awe-struck brunet in just your matching set of underwear. You figured you’d wear something nice under your clothes, both for Johnny’s pleasure and for your confidence, and with how Johnny’s eyes settle on the way your breasts are trying to burst out of your snug lacy bra, you know you chose well.

A hand slides up your torso to grab one of your breasts and squeeze it. Somewhere in the midst of him fondling your chest and pressing teasing, yet promising kisses on your inner thighs your eyes drift shut again as you bask in the pleasure. One of your own hands comes up from your side to slide under the cup of your unoccupied tit and pull at your nipple.

The tip of Johnny’s tongue drags dangerously close to your annoying-still-clothed heat and your patience is shot.

“John…”

“Yes?”

“I need more.”

He has the audacity to hum and give your clit a kitten lick. “Do you?”

You huff, stuck between just pushing his face into your pussy or doing what he asks of you, but you promised, so you suck in a breath and give him what he wants.

“John,” you say again, almost whining.

He doesn’t say anything, just continues to look at you expectantly. And when too much time goes by, it somehow hits you what he wants from you and you groan quietly to yourself.

“Please.”

“That was very convincing,” Johnny snorts. His nose glides across the inside of your thigh like he’s got all the time in the world. It tickles in the best way, but it’s nothing but teasing and you’ve been stimulated enough that if you go more than a couple of seconds more without his mouth giving you direct pleasure, you’ll go insane. So with a great amount of willpower, you try again.

“Johnny,” you whine, giving him your best pout. Addressing him so informally feels foreign, but the way his eyes light up encourages you to keep going.“Please?”

And of course a big smile takes up half of his face and you mentally prepare yourself for what’s next to come. He peels your panties off, both of you watching the line of slick that stretches then breaks in the process, and when you spread your legs even more for him, his mouth salivates.

Johnny makes sure you’re looking into his eyes as his tongue licks a wide stripe from your entrance to your clit. He wants to be smug at the gasp you let out, but the taste of you shuts his ego up quickly.

You squeak when you’re suddenly flipped onto your stomach and your ass is lifted up into the air. With yet another broad lick to coat his taste buds with your essence, Johnny buries his face in your pussy. He uses the tip of his tongue to collect the puddle of wetness you’ve produced and smears it over your clit, soon digging inside to directly stimulate the bundle of nerves.

Johnny’s lips close around your clit and he sucks on it softly. As the moments pass he gradually sucks harder to the point of you not being able to fight the way your eyes flutter shut and hips push back. He’s nice about the movement, just grabbing your hips to keep you still, soon caressing and kneading.

“Mm, that feels good,” you compliment. At that very moment, Johnny decides to roll his tongue in up and down motions and apply more pressure behind his hands. “Fuck, that feels so good.”

He prompts you with a hum of his own.

With how your moans start to get louder and your breath gets quicker and harder, not to mention the tingles you feel building in intensity, you know you’re already close. It’s a beautiful yet frustrating feeling because you don’t want this to end so soon after waiting so long. But you also want him inside of you so bad now.

Johnny comes back up to circle your entrance, and then he goes even higher.

“Are you— fuck,” you groan deeply.

Your hands grip the pillow your face is buried in and your eyes have found the back of your head again. Johnny just hums at the way you react, the octave of your voice as you let out your sounds of pleasure go straight to his dick. His tongue licks filthily up and down, not leaving an inch untouched nor missing a drop of your juice. His fingers rub your entrance until he slides one in. One becomes two after a few pumps, then his thumb presses into your clit and your back is arched almost uncomfortably.

“Johnny,” you whine again, breath hiccuped.

“Yes?” he prompts, lifting his head and looking up to see your face peaking around your body, smushed into his pillow still.

“I wanna cum,” you tell him. It feels too good now. “Fuck, I need to come, Johnny.”

“Then cum for me.” His voice is so gentle yet commanding as his digits speed up. He tongues the skin between your holes sloppily and you try to curl into yourself, your mouth wide opened with no sound coming out of it, your walls clenching madly around the fingers inside of you, and your grip on the cushion is borderline painful.

Johnny helps you ride out your orgasm for as long as possible until your body begins shuddering due to oversensitivity. He gradually slows down to a stop, then removes himself from your body to let you breathe correctly. While he sucks on his fingers, he uses his clean hands to soothingly rub your back, waiting for you to calm back down.

You’re a bit dazed during the transition of more kissing that leads you on top of him, straddling him once again. You vaguely remember the caresses on your waist or the pinch of his fingers playing with your nipples, but the feeling of your bare pussy dragging against his dick is very memorable because it sparks a desperate need within you to sit on it.

Johnny’s hands on your hips move you to continue the friction, moving you back and forth on his dick easily. Foreheads connected as you catch your breath from the kiss you just broke away from, the two of you watch silently as his head reappears and disappears behind your lips, turning you both on until he’s fully hard again and you can’t handle him not being inside of you anymore.

You lift up on your knees to align his tip with your entrance. A silent look is exchanged where you ask and he nods once. He lets you take your time, enjoying the feeling of his tip directly rubbing against your sopping entrance.

Your labored breaths at the sensation bring his attention to your chest, and his mouth wraps around a nipple without a thought. By now, you deem his dick wet enough to press his head in your hole and press your hips down. The moment he slides in your head falls back because the stretch burns in the best way. It feels like time doesn’t exist as you work your way down his length, inch by inch. Your hips naturally find a slow rhythm as you lift and drop them to take in more until he slides in and out easily.

When your features no longer show discomfort, Johnny begins moving with you. Every time he lifts his hips up a little to meet your thrusts his body slumps down the headboard. His hands are loose on your waist as you move your body up and down and he’s got the perfect view of his dick going in and out of your core while you’re controlling the pace and intensity. The muscles in your thighs start to burn, so you slow down to a stop and carefully slide your way down until your clit comes in contact with his pubic bone, resulting in your eyes rolling back, hips grinding on their own accord.

“How the fuck do you feel this good?” Johnny groans deeply, hands gripping your ass to assist your movements.

His compliment, his hungry, intense gaze as they take you in from your eyes—which mirror his own—down to the trail of slick you’ve left behind on his tamed curls from the swivel of your hips, and the way his cock rubs against your g-spot send you over the edge within moments. Johnny soothingly rubs a cheek with one hand while the other caresses your arched spine, keeping his hips still to let you ride your orgasm out on your own.

You slump into him, head on his shoulder, panting against his neck. A sigh of content slips out when Johnny hugs you tightly against his broad chest right before asking, “You alright?”

“Great,” you reply breathlessly.

Johnny smiles at the positive response. He lifts his hips experimentally and gauges your reaction, which is a satisfied hum.

“You want more?” he asks, hands moving to your hips to carefully grind against him. How could you say no? “Hands and knees, baby.”

You begin climbing off to the side of him then he follows your lead and lifts himself up so you can settle on your knees and bend until your face slides onto his pillow. Your hands grab the sides of it in anticipation.

A deep groan sounds from behind you, so you crane your neck and see the way he stares down at how he can see everything you have to offer him at this moment. One hand goes to his dick while the other massages one of your cheeks. He runs the swollen tip of his dick along your slit, collecting what’s oozed out. You close your eyes and relax the side of your face into the cushion beneath it and take a breath, preparing yourself for the stretch and intensity this angle never fails to bring.

He slowly starts to breach your entrance. There’s a pause, then you hear him spit down before more of him slips inside of you inch by inch with each roll of his hips. He keeps his movements shallow for a while and your walls reaccept him easily. A particular thrust sends him deep inside of you, his tip just barely kissing your cervix. Your body’s first instinct is to run away from it. His hands on your hips stop you from fleeing, holding you still and rubbing the skin there to ease you.

“I won’t go too deep,” he tells you, hips still as he kisses up your spine and makes you dizzy by the tenderness of it all. “I’m not gonna hurt you.”

You nod at his promises and take another steadying breath, then the pleasurable friction is back. You’d believe anything he told you with that intoxicating voice of his.

A loud, embarrassing squelch comes out of your core when he’s sheathed inside that makes you bury your face into the pillow. There’s one last kiss at the top of your spine before the body heat from his chest is gone and he’s back upright. He finds his rhythm easily, and hands return to your backside, fingers digging into the flesh, no doubt leaving behind white imprints. He uses his grip as leverage to fuck down into you at a different angle that allows him to speed up and rip an unrestrained moan from your throat.

“You okay?”

You nod violently and sob, “Yes! Oh, my god, yes.”

Content, Johnny hums and you just know he’s grinning down at you by the sound of his voice when he asks: “Feels good?”

“So good,” you whine, unable to close your mouth or stop noises from coming out of it. You begin dropping your hips down to meet his thrusts, the loud smacks of skin against skin echoing and bouncing off of the walls of his room. “Fuck it feels so good, Johnny.”

“I know, baby” he groans. “And this pussy feels so fucking good—shit.”

The two of you get lost in the rhythm you’ve created and no more words are exchanged for a while, just the sound of groans that comes deep from Johnny’s throat and whines and pants that make you drool all while drying your throat out. The room has gotten increasingly hotter and your bodies now shine with a thin, sticky sheen that makes the back of your thighs stick to the front of his own every time he fucks back into you. Your sensitive nipples rub harshly against the sheets, stimulating you even further to the point of another sob ripping out of your throat and your walls fluttering around his girth.

“I’m gonna cum,” you whimper. Your divulgence prompts him to reach his arm under you to graze his fingertips over your engorged clit and then you’re repeating your words over and over again until your actions meet your words and you’re cumming all over him. Your essence drips down the insides of your thighs and his balls and his thrusts create wetter, louder noises. A swivel of your hips causes his dick to pop out and suddenly your body is vibrating.

“There you go, baby,” Johnny praises you, sliding back into you and precisely hitting that spot within you a few more times until your pussy clenches again and he pulls out again, letting more wetness spray the sheets under you.

“Look at you,” he continues with a deep chuckle. “Making such a big mess.”

You don’t know if he really meant for you to look but your curiosity gets the best of you and you lift your head and look in between your legs. There’s a dark puddle on his sheets and another whine leaves your body, your head falling back into the pillow.

“Can you handle more?” Johnny asks you softly, slapping the top of your asscheek with his dick.

You need more. You don’t know what the hell Johnny has done to you and your body but you feel empty and not satisfied enough. Your core is raw at this point but you want nothing more than to feel the velvety skin of his thick, long dick sliding in and out of you and hitting every spot in you that makes your body convulse again.

“Please,” you beg, wagging your hips to emphasize your needs. “Please, Johnny.”

“I’ve got you begging now?” He sounds so turned on yet taken aback, another dark laugh vibrating your body at the nod of your head and movement of your body. If you were in your right mind, you would be ashamed of your behavior and submission to your assistant, but you’re not. And who cares when you’ve never felt this way before and crave to feel even more?

“I need it,” you confess without shame. “Need you back inside of me.”

Johnny doesn’t need any more convincing to be back, deep within you and instantly satisfying you again. Your breath stutters and it’s not easy to speak in coherent sentences, but that doesn’t stop you from trying to voice your pleasure and appreciation to the brunet whose self-control only continues to dissolve the faster he slams into you and the higher your voice gets.

Both of your breath patterns get quicker, loud, more erratic, signaling the approach of his first release and your third? Fourth? You can’t keep up with it when your brain has turned into mush and you can barely remember your own name, only his own registering in your brain. His name rolls off of your tongue like a mantra, driving him insane behind you.

“Where do you want me to cum?” he pants. It takes you too long to swallow in an attempt to lubricate your throat and answer him, Johnny humming in question impatiently.

“My back,” you manage to squeak out. You’re impressed with the amount of control he has, the slamming of his hips into your ass somehow speeding up and getting rougher. Johnny lacks the control and precision from before, and the way his tip kisses your cervix rips a yell out of you, eyes watering as you hold on for dear life. He releases a drawn out groan from deep within, and not too long later you feel ropes of cum land on your lower back and ass.

Your body is shaking. Tears leak out of your eyes, your breath is hard to catch, and quiet cries come out. You’re gently flipped over and pulled into strong arms, quickly finding comfort in the chest you settle into.

“You’re okay, baby,” Johnny’s soft voice says to you, but you can’t open your eyes or your mouth to acknowledge him. You’re confused about why you’re reacting to this, but you don’t dislike it. Especially when you have Johnny to soothe you and help you calm down. “Are you hurting anywhere?”

You shake your head and finally try to respond, but it takes a couple of coughs and harsh swallows of spit to do so. “No. I feel good. Everywhere.”

Your speech is choppy, unlike your usual way of speaking, but stringing words into sentences that flow well is too much work right now. Johnny doesn’t mind; he loves that he had that effect on you after you’ve had him under your spell for so long. He loves the fact he successfully kept his promise to you and now you’re boneless in his arms.

He reaches for the glass of water on his nightstand and hands it to you. “Are you ready for a bath?”

“Can I fall asleep in the bath?” you ask, wiping your face tiredly.

“Sure,” Johnny says softly before setting you down on the dry part of the bed. “I’ll come get you once it’s ready.”

That’s how the rest of the day plays out, you getting taken care of in multiple ways. Your favorite method is with his tongue and fingers as he made out with your pussy for what felt like hours in lieu of an apology for going so hard. And maybe Johnny purposely falls asleep next to you after you’re bathed, fed, and exhausted from coming, curled up into his side in the new sheets because he wants you to stay a little longer. There’s no way in hell he’ll ever get to see this side of you again after today.

“Good morning,” Johnny greets you. It’s eight in the morning the following Monday, and he’s got your avocado toast and fruit in his hands as he walks up to your desk.

You're rummaging through your bag looking for the bobby pins you threw inside of it this morning in your rush to get to work on time because believe it or not, you overslept. You give up in favor of looking up to greet him back, but your voice decides not to come out when your eyes lock with his. There hadn’t been any contact since you woke up in the middle of the night and he walked you to his door with a lingering kiss that quite literally took your breath away to close out the short chapter of your relationship you’d just created. You were still tired, but you definitely were not supposed to sleep over, so it was nothing.

But now, seeing the same eyes that stared into your own while you came and cried his name multiple times, all you can do is blink. And then he licks his pretty lips. You knew this would happen. You’re not mad at it, though. How could you be when you’d never experienced someone like him before? In hindsight, there was no possible way to go back to normal after the intimacy, tenderness, and raw attraction you shared that day. No possible way to never want another taste.

“You okay?” he asks unsurely, setting your plates down.

And here it comes.

“Johnny,” you say lowly, setting your bag down. The quirk in his brow and the corner of his mouth lets you know he’s onto you. And that just makes things easier for you. “Lock the door.”

yikesssssss

#johnny seo scenarios #johnny seo scenario #johnny seo smut #nct scenarios #nct scenario #nct smut #lets not talk abt the ending i needed to end this monster

901 notes · View notes

sonderastrology · 4 years ago

Text

🔐🕊❣️Astrology Observations❣️🕊🔐

Part 3!!!

💌These are some observations I’ve noticed about placements as a Leo sun, Virgo moon, Capricorn rising ✨ if it doesn’t resonate, that’s okay, just claim what does 🧡😊 MADE BY SONDERASTROLOGY

🛸The sign on your second house cusp can be looked at as HOW you express yourself, the PATTERN. And your Venus sign is your overall aesthetic. For example: I have Leo Venus and my second house sign is Aquarius. For me, I’m very up and down when it comes to getting dressed and getting ready- either I look like a bum or I look good asf, all or nothing.

🛸12th house says a lot about dreams. Having Sagittarius in the 12th house can indicate having dreams about traveling, going somewhere, trying to find something or a quest. Aries in the 12th house might tend to dream of fighting more or running, something physical. Virgo in the 12th house might dream about disorder and chaos or the opposite, could dream about work too or even sexual fantasties.

🛸the sign on your 4th house can show the neighborhood in which you live. For instance, having Venus or Libra/Taurus in the 4th house could mean you live next to a restaurant or a flower shop. Pisces on the 4th house could mean you live next to a tarot reader or even a body of water. Sagittarius on the 4th house cusp could mean you live next to an airport or a train.

🛸Earth venuses usually won’t leave a long term relationship. They aren’t the type to give up, and in contact with Venus, they are determined and loyal lovers. This could be toxic because they live by the term “when I’m full, I’ll get up”; theyll take your shit until they really can’t anymore meanwhile the relationship has gone to shit and everyone is hurt. Usually these are the people that pray the other will just let go. Once they are completely out of a relationship, they won’t go back (of course depending on aspects and such)

🛸Cancer, Taurus, Leo, and even Capricorn Venus are the types to spoil their partner materialliscally, they have amazing taste and want you to wear something they got you.

🛸Your mercury and moon sign show insights to your memory. Water placements may need to feel an emotional response to information to remember it best; it has to intrigue them in some way whether that be disgust, amazement, sadness, etc. Air placements remember things that are revelent in the moment. Meaning, if you ask them a question off the bat they may not remember until you go into detail. But if you’re talking about a specific event or time, they’ll remember more and more. Fire signs remember things most if it had action or an ego boost. Like they’ll remember the joke that was funny or the song that was poppin. Fire signs have good memories. Earth placements remember things best by photos, journaling, writing notes. Something physical. They remember random facts or random moments that everyone else may have forgot about.

🛸 Wherever your 10th house(career) ruler is can show what you need to do in order to excel AND/OR what you need to do to help align more with your path. For instance, if you have Leo over your 10th house... look for where the Sun is in your chart. If it’s in the 11th house; you need to network through friend groups and clubs. You might want to show off your creative capabilities to your group of friends. Capricorn in 10th house with Saturn in the 7th house could indicate needing to take your time and be patient in relationships and one on one interactions. Success may come later in life after learning lessons connected to whatever house Saturn sits on. These are just some oddly specific examples! Hahahha.

🛸The best time to change your look, get a tattoo, a haircut, etc. is when Venus is transiting your 1st, 2nd, and 10th house! Try to avoid drastic changes to appearance when Venus transits your 12th house; the 12th house is “the hidden” so you might THINK something looks good but it might turn out that it doesn’t. When this transit happens and you have ideas, definitely write them down but wait a few days to take action. These are just based on my experiences.

🛸Going along with the last post... need makeover ideas? Look at the personal planets transiting your 1st house. Sun; change up your hair! Moon; change up your home, redecorate and rearrange. Mercury; change the wallpaper on your phonescreen, pick a new profile picture for social media apps, a manicure even. Venus; good time to get serious about permanent/long term ideas. For example; tattoos, drastic hair cut, a piercing, or something as small as trying a different aesthetic or look out ... Venus transiting the 1st house increases your luck of something looking good. Mars; facials, new makeup look, be careful of impulsive ideas (look at aspects to mars), change up something about your style or day to day routine. Good time to try something new in regard to hobbies, day to day routine, etc. (AGAIN ASPECTS ARE VERY IMPORTANT)

🛸Wherever Pluto is in your chart will trigger HUGE transformations for you that will teach you huge lessons. In the 11th house, a friend could pass away or friendships could change you. In the 1st house, constant rebirth... feeling like you’re different 100 people in 1 lifetime. Pluto in the 7th house, you may be a new person after every long term relationship or commitment. Type to go through a glow up (or down) after a breakup.

🛸I’ve noticed Virgo Suns with fire in their chart love to work out, eat healthy, and care about their physical well-being a lot.

🛸Pisces in whatever placement you have it, makes you distant. Not in a closed off type of way just on another planet type of way.

🛸If youre seeking someone’s attention or wanna play games/make them want you, just do this! For fire signs: ignore them, make them chase. Go out with your friends, look bomb, take pics... make them notice you. Air signs: go out and do something adventurous and out of the ordinary, change up your look, show them you’re independent and don’t need anyone! Earth signs: Get your bread up, buy some nice things for yourself that you can show off, get a good job, check off some goals! Water signs: this one is a hard one... they either want you or they don’t. But staying low key, not posting, being mysterious could intrigue them.

Part 1

Part 2

#astrology #leo #virgo #cancer #sagittarius #capricorn #scorpio #pisces #aries #gemini #Astro notes #astrology notes #astrology culture #Aquarius #Taurus #Libra #moon sign #Venus sign #rising sign

948 notes · View notes

golbrocklovely · 3 years ago

Text

remember me // colby brock (pt 2)

A/N: as i mentioned before in a different post, this took me FOREVER to write. i loved writing this story but something about it just made me drag it out for so long. nonetheless, i love this and i'm excited to see what you all think. please lmk what you thought about this. thank you to everyone that has supported me and sent me kind messages. yall are the best ! hope you enjoy :) also lmk if you want another part...

prompt: she's the only one that remembers colby, or so they both thought.

trigger warning: ANGST, heartbreak, AU mention, friendship problems, cursing, happy-ish ending (but not the end...?), kissing

word count: 5526

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Colby was relieved that the waitress, the only one that remembered him, decided to help. The moment she agreed, Colby gave her his number and left. She texted him not too long after, and he realized for a moment she never said her name. He planned to ask her the next day when they decided to meet up at his place.

It was weird to come back to his apartment, knowing that down the hall his best friend, his brother, lived there and didn't know who he was. Usually when Colby felt lonely, he would walk down the hall to Sam's and hang out for a bit. It was always nice to talk to Sam about anything and everything.

But now... he couldn't do that.

Colby tried to sleep during the night, but barely any rest came from it. He tossed and turned, hoping that when he would wake up, this would all just be some weird-ass nightmare.

When his cell phone rang the next morning at 9:34 A.M., it was an unfamiliar ringtone. As he rubbed his eyes awake, he glanced at the caller, the name 'Waitress' appearing on his screen.

I guess this wasn’t a dream after all.

"Yeah?" Colby groaned, squinting his eyes at the sunlight.

Her voice came through cheery, the tone too loud in Colby’s ears. “Let me up to your apartment. I'm here.”

He cleared his throat. “This early?”

“I figured you would want your normal life back as soon as possible, yeah?” She sassed.

He rolled his eyes. “Alright, give me a second. I'll come down and get you.”

Colby stumbled out of bed, running his fingers through his hair as he threw on a random shirt and jeans, slowly trudging down to the lobby of his apartment. She sat on a couch, tapping her foot against the carpeted floors. Her eyes were staring out the door, almost like she was looking at someone. When she heard Colby’s footsteps, her gaze pulled away from outside.

“Did I wake you?” She frowned, grabbing her bag next to her and standing up.

He shook his head. “You can't really be woken up if you barely slept.”

“I'm sorry to hear that.” She lightly bit her lip, following Colby to the elevator.

He shrugged tiredly. “It's okay.”

They both slowly got into the elevator, climbing up to Colby's floor. The loud 'ding' of the elevator broke their silence moments later. They walked to Colby's apartment, and he unlocked his door quickly.

She whistled quietly. “Woah, nice place.”

A half smile spread across Colby’s face. “Thanks.”

“No offense, but how do you pay for this place if you're not a social media person?” She questioned, stepping into the kitchen.

He raised an eyebrow. “That's... a good question. From what my mom told me over the phone yesterday, I worked all throughout high school and college, so maybe it's from that?”

“You only worked at Dairy Queen while you were in high school. You must have gotten a better job in college because there is no way you can afford this place.” She disagreed.

Colby smirked. “How'd you know I worked at Dairy Queen?”

“Well, for starters, my friend told me. And also, I did some research about you. But I'll get to that in a second.” She continued, her voice falling to a serious tone, “So... would you like to hear my theories?”

“Theories?” He puzzled.

“As to why everyone forgot about you.” The waitress explained.

Colby sat down on his barstool, exhaling. “Let's hear it.”

“Okay. For argument sakes, you're gonna have to just go with me on this. Because otherwise, I literally have no way to help you.” She started, already pacing slightly.

He cautioned. “...okay?”

“So last night, I tried to think of a reason why everyone would collectively forget about you. And the only conclusion I could come up with is that you're in an alternative universe.” She hypothesized.

Colby’s eyes widened, bugging out of his head. “A what?”

“An alternative universe. Basically, everything is pretty much the same in your life, except a few minor details,” she revealed. “That’s why you still live in this apartment, but you didn’t get here the same way you did in your other life, your real life.”

“This... it's way too early for this.” He grumbled, astonished.

She sighed, her hands resting on her hips. “The only other option is that this is a very long-winded prank that your friends are still pulling on you. Have you tried talking to any of your other friends besides Sam?”

“No, everyone else’s number is gone in my phone, which I can only assume means they don’t know me either.” Colby retorted. Then he took a deep breath as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “But, this doesn't make sense. How did I end up here if this isn't my life?”

“I’m not sure how you got here, but I think you’re here for a specific reason. I think you’re here to right a wrong that this Colby Brock did. I’m just… not entirely sure what that wrong might be.” She answered, unsure.

He huffed. “Okay… what am I supposed to do then? Stay here and hope we figure that out soon? I don't even know who I am in this universe.”

“And that's where my research comes into play.” She pulled a laptop from her bag quickly, placing it down on the counter and opening it. She scrolled through her browsers until she came across Colby's Facebook, which surprisingly looked active for someone who hadn't been personally on it in years.

I use Facebook? Gross.

“First, I started by seeing if you and Sam were friends on here, but that didn’t amount to much since Sam doesn’t have a Facebook. However, what I found out is that you and Sam did live in the same town, go to the same high school, and played in the same marching band. Sam talked about his early years before he was ‘famous’ in one of the first videos he posted, and I crossed referenced that with your profile and it all matches up.” She informed.

“That's strange,” he mumbled. “What did we do after high school?”

She stated. “You went off to college and majored in Business Management with a minor in Philosophy. You graduated early too.”

Me? Graduating early? I couldn’t even get through math without Sam’s help.

“What did Sam do?” He asked.

The waitress scrolled to another tab, opening it to show a search of Sam. “Well, a very quick Google search shows that he actually went to the same college as you but dropped out once his Vine career started to pick up. Then he went on to Musical.ly when Vine died. He moved out to LA in 2017 and started a YouTube channel after he met Katrina, and slowly met all of his- your, friends that way. He got a bump of followers once he started dating Kat because of her following.”

Colby’s mouth gaped at her words. “That can't be true. He would have never wanted that. I mean, I had to convince him that we should be on social media so that we could spread our message. Plus, he hates those channels that use their relationship for views.”

“Not this version of Sam. Or at least, it doesn't seem like it.” She commented.

He covered his face, groaning into his hands. “What the hell am I here for? What wrong have I done in this universe?”

Her voice low, she replied. “I think it might have to do with Sam.”

“But... he doesn't know me.” He dissented, sitting up.

She nodded. “I thought so too. However, after scrolling through all of your public photos, I found this.”

Colby squinted at the screen, an old photo of him and Sam stared back. They looked super young, probably sophomores in high school. They were both smiling, laughing at something. He vaguely remembered this day.

“So, we did know each other.” He bit his lip softly.

She hummed. “Yeah. And weirdly, it’s the only photo of the two of you on your profile. But it’s not the only strange thing.”

Scrolling to a different tab, she pulled up an old tweet of Sam’s. It read ‘Never thought you would be the one to hurt me. But I guess everyone can be surprising.’

Colby noted the date. “That was back in high school.”

“Yeah, and there’s a bunch like them. He talks about being betrayed and someone hurting him deeply. He never mentions, of course. But his tweets line up with some that you were tweeting at the same time.” She confessed.

The waitress clicked on a different tab and another tweet showed up, one from Colby’s account. He gazed at it, reading the words ‘If you hate me… imagine how I feel about myself.’

Colby’s face dropped. “Wait, what?”

“You don’t tweet that often, but when you do, you talk about righting wrongs and fixing things you fucked up.” She added, “You also hate on yourself a lot.”

He doubted, crossing his arms. “You think they’re connected?”

“I do. I think in this universe you fucked up somehow and hurt Sam. And I think you are here now to fix what the other you did.” She explained.

He ranted. “This is all so fucked! When I saw him yesterday, he acted like he didn’t even know me. How am I supposed to even go about this? What, do I just go down the hall and apologize for something I don’t even remember doing?”

“No. Sam's not in his apartment anyway. I saw him leave while I was waiting for you.” She mentioned nonchalantly.

He grunted. “Great, he could be anywhere in LA right now.”

“I know exactly where he is.” She smirked.

“What? How?” He questioned.

The waitress divulged. “This version of Sam has a favorite restaurant he goes to all the time. A lot of his fans know about it, thus one look through any of his fan accounts and you'll see it. It's called ‘Paradise’.”

“Sounds like a strip club.” Colby deadpanned.

She pouted. “It's not. But he goes there all the time, and I got us a table there last minute.”

“What exactly are we gonna do when we get there?” He crossed his arms.

“I was planning on going up to his table and talking to him, maybe asking him about you, see how he reacts.” She described.

Colby furrowed his brow, confused. “And what about me?”

She slid her laptop into her bag, zipping it up hastily. “Well… I didn’t really think that far ahead. But hopefully, whatever you did is forgivable, and we can just fix it right there.”

He murmured. “That's a lot to hope for.”

“It's better than sitting here and wasting daylight.” She grabbed her stuff and headed for the door. Colby followed suit, grabbing his keys.

He spoke as he locked his door. “What if this doesn’t work?”

She turned back to him. “It will. It has to.”

~~~

Paradise was a themed restaurant, which Colby thought was strange because his Sam never really liked those types of restaurants. The theme was nice, however, tropical and Hawaiian. It felt like something he, Sam, and a few friends would have gone to after a fun, drunk night.

As Colby and the waitress were escorted to their table, they both kept an eye out for Sam, glancing around nervously for the blonde boy.

“I think the worst thing about this universe version of me is how messy my car is,” Colby joked. “It’s like I live out of it.”

She shrugged, smiling. “It wasn’t that bad.”

“You should see my real car. My honey wagon is spotless.” He expressed, waving his hand.

“Honey wagon?” She queried.

“Long story,” he chuckled. Then abruptly, he gasped. “Holy shit, I just realized I never got your name.”

She cocked her head. “What? I never told you?”

He blinked. “No.”

She started. “It's-”

“Hi, I'm Tony, I'll be your server for today. Can I get you something to drink to start you guys off?” Tony greeted, cutting her off.

“Yeah, sure. A water for me.” She blurted out.

Colby added. “Coke, please.”

Tony smiled. “Okay, coming right up.”

Once Tony left, the waitress started scoping out for Sam again, her eyes widening once she saw him.

Her body stiffened, turning back to Colby. “He's over there, three tables down to your left.”

Colby gazed over his shoulder at his friend. Sam looked lost in thought, staring at his phone as he ate his food.

“Why is he alone?” He muttered.

“From some of the blogs I read, he likes to go out and eat by himself. Also, apparently, him and Kat are on the rocks.” She admitted.

“They love each other so much, it's kinda gross to be around them sometimes,” He quipped, but shook his head. “So to hear that...”

“I'm gonna head over.” She announced quickly.

Before he could speak, she left the booth. Colby watched her walk over to Sam, listening closely to their conversation as he ducked his head down.

“Hey... sorry to bother you, but are you Sam Golbach?” She asked sweetly.

“Yeah I am. Did you want something?” Sam stared blankly at her.

“Um, yeah?” She almost scoffed at his tone. “I’m a huge fan and I know this might be a weird question, but do you know someone named Colby Brock?”

Sam’s face remained stoic, but his eyes intensified. “No, I've never heard of that name before.”

“Are you sure, because I'm pretty certain that you and him are best friends.” She insisted.

He raised an eyebrow. “What are you talking about?”

Colby watched nervously as she pulled out her phone and showed Sam the photo. Sam scrunched up his face, his eyes scanning the image. “Yeah, no. Still don’t know who he is. What was his name again?”

“Colby Brock.” She stated.

“...Sorry. I’ve never heard a name like that before.” He mumbled, almost inaudibly. “Sounds stupid anyway.”

She cocked her head. “Wait, what?”

Colby clenched his fist, unable to hear this conversation any longer. He needed to come face-to-face with Sam. He slid out of his seat, walking hastily over to Sam and the waitress. Sam’s eyes narrowed as he gaped at Colby.

“Sam…” Colby started.

Sam growled. “Are you fucking serious, Colby? Did you really have to get one of my fans involved?”

“What?” Colby puzzled.

Sam jumped out of his seat, grabbing Colby’s arm and pulling him out of the restaurant. The waitress followed behind them, confused just as much as Colby. Sam’s feet stopped behind the back door of the building, turning to Colby without warning.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Sam barked.

Colby stepped back, surprised by Sam’s anger. “...Uh, I don’t know what you mean by that.”

Sam scoffed. “Why the fuck are you here? After all this time?”

“So, you do remember me.” Colby remarked.

“Yeah, I do. When you showed up at my place yesterday, it took me a minute to realize it was you, since you decided to dress up like a Hot Topic employee, but yeah, I knew it was you. Are you really gonna pretend in front of her that we don’t know each other?” Sam teared his eyes away from Colby’s, staring at the waitress suddenly. “Let me guess, he hasn’t told you the whole story, right?”

“I guess not.” She shrugged uncomfortably.

Sam chuckled darkly. “Of course not. If he told the whole story, he would have to admit he was an asshole, and God knows he’s not gonna do that.”

“What are you talking about?” Colby panted.

“Do you not remember? Well, I’ll give you a refresher. You and I became friends freshman year of high school. You were my best friend and I was yours. I trusted you. I trusted you with a lot of shit that I’ve never told anyone. Senior year of high school, right before we were about to graduate, right as we were starting a social media career, suddenly you don’t want anything to do with me; which would have been bad enough, but then I go and find out you and my girlfriend were hooking up behind my back,” Sam snapped, catching his breath for a moment. “So yeah, I remember you, Colby.”

Colby’s mouth fell open, his breathing speeding up.

None of this sounds like me. I would never hurt Sam like that.

“And now, you have the fucking audacity to show up when everything in my life is going great and I’m succeeding. I have fans, friends, and a girlfriend that all love and care about me, and you’re here trying to what? Stir up drama? Get some clout from me?” He demanded.

“If your friends and girlfriend love you, why are you eating all alone?” The waitress jeered.

Sam glared at her, biting his tongue. “And you made one of my fans hate me. Dope, dude.”

“Sam, look; I’m sorry for what I did. But that was years ago. I’m not who I was back then.” Colby choked out.

“I don’t care. I don’t want you in my life. Do you not understand what you did to me?” Sam persisted.

“I know I was an asshole, and I apologize for ever hurting you like that. But I miss you, and I want to work things out. Let me prove to you that I’m better.” He trembled, getting closer to Sam.

Sam backed up, blocking Colby. “No. No! You don’t get to miss me. You don’t get to miss a relationship you fucked up. It took me years to trust again. Hell, I’m still going through it. You don’t get to decide whether or not you’re in my life. Not anymore.”

“Sam… please.” Colby whimpered.

“Don’t show up at my place again. Don’t talk to my fans about me. Don’t act like you care about me. Because I’m done,” Sam stared into Colby’s eyes before going back into the restaurant. “I don’t care about you. Fuck off forever and leave me alone.”

Sam’s words punched Colby hard, taking the breath out of him instantly. He caught himself against the wall, his legs turning to gelatin under his weight.

He stuttered. “I… gotta leave. I-I have to…”

“Colby, relax. It’s gonna be okay.” She grabbed his hand.

He shook off her embrace. “What? No it’s not! Did you not hear what he said? Why would he want to be friends with a piece of shit like me?!”

“You were eighteen when this all happened. Give yourself a break.” She argued.

“No. I’m fucking terrible. This version of me is terrible. Of course he doesn’t want to be friends with me! I don’t even want to be me.” His voice quivered with anger, his body racing away from her.

She furrowed her brows, trying to keep up with him. “Where are you going?”

“I just need to leave. I can’t be here right now!” He grunted, his pace picking up.

She called after him, but Colby didn’t care. His heart slammed against his chest over and over again. Tears weld up into his eyes, blurring his vision as he began to run. He wanted to keep running until his legs gave out, until he couldn’t remember all the words Sam had said to him.

It dawned to Colby how much worse this universe was.

He wasn’t just stuck in a universe where Sam didn’t know him.

He was stuck in a universe where Sam didn’t want to know him.

In a universe where Sam didn’t love him.

And he had no way of escaping.

Colby must have blacked out while he ran, somehow maintaining to stay upright, because once his thoughts started to subside, and his body basically gave out under him, he noticed he was in a part of LA he had never been before. Some random neighborhood that was unfamiliar.

He shoved his body up against a metal telephone pole, sliding down to the ground. He tried catching his breath, gulping back breaths as he forced down the nausea overwhelming his senses. He wiped his face with his sleeve, feeling more tears rush down his cheeks.

His throat and chest burned with each sharp inhale. He whimpered into his hands, covering his face from the slowly retreating sun.

He slid his phone out of his pocket once he caught his breath, calling the only number he knew.

“Hey honey. What’s up?” His mom’s voice rang back sweetly.

Colby’s voice was monotone, exhausted. “You know who Sam is, don’t you?”

The line went quiet for a moment, all Colby could hear was her light breath.

“You told me not to talk about him. After you two stopped being friends, you said you never wanted to hear his name again.” She exhaled deeply, “I was taken aback when you asked about him yesterday.”

“He’s out here… in LA.” He responded.

She gasped lightly. “Did you run into him?”

He laughed bitterly. “You could say that.”

“Oh, Colby. I’m so sorry.” His mother consoled.

“There’s nothing to be sorry about, mama. I just…” Colby trailed off, unable to explain.

“Why don’t you come home this weekend?” She offered. “I miss you, you know.”

“I would love to. But…” His chest heaved as hot tears drifted down his cheeks. “That’s not my home.”

“Nonsense. You will always have a home here.” She assured him, her voice almost trembling.

He wiped a fallen tear, a broken smile coming to his face. “That’s good to know. I love you.”

She hummed. “I love you too, baby. Call me again soon.”

“I will. Bye.” He uttered breathlessly.

The sky was getting darker and darker, and Colby remained against the phone pole. He didn’t know how much time had passed, but suddenly his phone vibrated, a new message from ‘Waitress’ asking where he was. He sent his location, and she arrived twenty minutes later in his car. He stood up, stumbling to his passenger door. His legs were weak from the sprinting he had just done. As he got in, the cool AC blasted the sweat and tears off his face.

They didn’t speak, a quiet radio station playing in the background the only sound. She drove through the hills of LA, eventually hitting a peak. She parked the car as it overlooked LA, the lights looking like stars on the horizon.

She got out a minute later, walking over to the hood and leaning against it. He could see something in her hand but didn’t recognize it. Colby sat in the car by himself, not able to physically move his body from how exhausted he felt. Eventually, he achingly stepped out of the car, sitting next to her on the hood.

“I’m fucked.” Colby breathed.

She started. “I don’t think-”

“Please don’t try to make me feel better. I know you mean well, but I am fucked,” he rebutted, his voice dark. “I’m stuck here, in this universe, where Sam hates me. And as if that weren’t bad enough, I did terrible things, things I know I would never do to him. How the fuck am I supposed to apologize for those mistakes? I wouldn’t take him back if the roles were reversed.”

“Read this.” The waitress stated, handing him a journal.

He glanced down at the leather-bound book, slightly faded from years of writing. He unclicked the lock and opened it, looking down at the pages. It was his, a journal full of writings he had done.

“Where did you get this?” He inquired.

“You were right about your car being messy. But you’d be surprised what you fine if you just look.” She teased.

Colby read over the words, the first entry catching his eye. It was dated a year after him and Sam had graduated high school.

Sam is succeeding without me. I knew he would. He was always so smart when it came to business decisions. He just hit 10k followers on Vine. That’s crazy!

“What the hell is this?” Colby questioned.

She answered quickly. “This whole journal was you keeping up with Sam without him knowing. This version of you always paid attention to what he was doing, even if you guys were no longer friends.”

“I’m obsessed with Sam? That’s great.” He deadpanned.

“You’re not obsessed with Sam. Read this entry.” She skipped a handful of pages, finally stopping on one and showing it to him.

I hate myself everyday for the hurt I caused Sam. I can’t believe what an idiot I was back when I was 18. We could have gone so far together… but I had to go and fuck it up.

He scowled. “Am I supposed to be sad for myself?”

“Keep reading.” She pushed.

The night I chose to never speak to Sam again, I knew I made the wrong decision. But I had to. Sam was ready to go on and do bigger and better things. I was just gonna hold him back. I was terrified of failing, not only myself, but him. He deserves success. That’s why I had to ignore him. I have never been as smart as him. I would have ruined our chances of doing something great. And I have been proven right by how far he has gone without me.

“You stopped being his friend because you were scared, not because you didn’t care anymore.” She repeated.

He slid off the car, scoffing. “So what if I was scared to fail? Sam didn’t deserve the hurt I caused just because of that. And what about me cheating with his girlfriend?”

She jumped off the car, striding up to Colby. She grabbed the journal from his hand. “You didn’t cheat, look.”

She pointed at the bottom of the page, his eyes following her finger.

“Me and Lexi were never together! I hate her for telling him that. One night, they had a really big fight and she came over to my house to ask what she should do. I told her to break up with him if she really didn’t care anymore. And then she tried to hit on me. I told her off and threatened to tell Sam, but she got to him first. She must have told him her and I were together.” The waitress read aloud.

“Wait, if I never hooked up with his girlfriend, why wouldn’t I tell him that?” Colby hissed.

“I think at that point, you wanted the friendship to be over, and I think this solidified it.” The waitress responded.

“All this time I could have been friends with Sam, but I ruined it because I was scared? What a fucking idiot.” He spat.

“You weren’t an idiot,” She interjected. “You just disliked yourself so much you didn’t think you deserved happiness. At least now you know that this version of you isn’t as terrible as you thought.”

“Even with that being the case, Sam’s never gonna accept my apology. Why should he?” Colby lamented, “I let him down the worst ways. I broke his trust and loyalty.”

She shook her head, stepping towards him. “Give him some time. You might be surprised."

Before Colby could speak, his phone rang. He took his phone out of his pocket and looked at the number. It looked familiar, but he couldn’t place it.

“Hello?” He answered.

“Did you really mean it when you said you were sorry?” Sam spoke, his tone hesitant, but dry.

His breath hitched at the sound of Sam’s voice. “Of course. I never meant to hurt you, Sam.”

Sam paused for a moment, before breathing out. “I’m giving you one more chance. Tomorrow. Come by my place. You apparently know where I live.”

“Yeah,” Colby laughed awkwardly. “I’ll come by. Thank you… Sam.”

“Don’t thank me yet. I’ll see you later.” Sam stated, hanging up.

Once the call ended, Colby’s eyes stared down at his phone widely. He almost couldn’t believe that happened.

He inhaled sharply. “Sam just called me. He wants to meet me tomorrow.”

“That’s great.” Her voice just above a whisper.

“He wants to hear me out… he wants to give me another chance.” His face dropped with confusion. “How did he get my number?”

It hit Colby like a brick as he gazed up at the waitress, who bit her lip hiding her smile. “You…?”

“You weren’t the first person I showed the journal to,” she explained. “When you ran off, I was gonna go after you. As I got in your car, I saw this journal sticking out from under your seat. I read through it and… I knew I had to show Sam. I went back in and talked to him for an hour, showing him how much you were actually sorry. How much you had beat yourself up over hurting him. And then I gave him your number. I wasn’t sure if he was gonna call but-”

“Oh my God, you’re amazing!” Colby ran up to her, grabbing her by the waist and spinning her around. She gripped his shoulders tightly as they spun, laughing loudly into his ear. As her feet touched the ground, he stared into her eyes, his smile the brightest she had ever seen it. His hands glided up her body to her face, cupping her cheeks quickly. He smashed his lips against hers, his heart pounding as he did. Her hands lowered to his chest, her grasp on his shirt tightened as she felt herself lose her footing and back up into the car.

As they stumbled, he realized what he was doing, pulling away quickly. “Shit… I’m sorry. I-I shouldn’t have-”

“No, it’s okay,” She giggled. “I’m just… surprised.”

He exhaled, letting his arms fall away from her body. “Me too.”

They leaned against the car, keeping a slight distance from each other. A light blush rested on both their faces; however, it was hard to see with the setting sun, something they were both grateful for.

The waitress sighed, breaking the moment of silence. “I think I know why this happened. Why I was the only one who remembered you…”

He raised an eyebrow, slightly side-eyeing her. “Really?”

“I lied to you when we first met. I wanted to seem a bit cooler than I am, but I don’t think I can hide that anymore.” She began, nervously.

Colby’s face relaxed a little, surprised at her words. “Okay.”

“My friend didn’t introduce me to you guys… I introduced her… to you.” She confessed.

A soft grin came to his face. “I had a feeling.”

She rolled her eyes. “No, you didn’t.”

“Yes, I did! I totally did,” he snickered. “Not every fan knows I worked at Dairy Queen. And… no average fan would have helped me get Sam back the way you did.”

“I think there’s a reason for all of this. I think in your universe, your life… you don’t know me.” Her voice dropped suddenly, making Colby turn to her.

“That’s true, I don’t.” He nodded.

Her eyes met his, a sad glint reflecting in the moonlight. “But I think the reason for that is because… you’re not supposed to.”

“What do you mean?” He replied, his face twisting in confusion.

“I think you and I are only supposed to have met here, in this universe. But not in yours.” She glared up at the sky, “Maybe in some weird way, I’m your guardian or guide or something.”

Colby’s thoughts raced. “So, what you’re saying is-“

“This might be the last time you’ll ever see me. You did what you had to do. You got Sam and you to talk again.” Her voice cracked as she held back tears, “You can go home.”

He grabbed her hands, holding them close to his body. “But… I don’t want to leave if it means I don’t know you.”

A hitched breath fell from her lips, a smile appearing from his words. “If we’re meant to be, we’ll see each other again.”

“That’s not fair.” He shook his head, a deep frown settling on his face.

“I know, but it’s how it has to be.” She whispered.

He rested his forehead against her, breathing deeply. “Can I… get one more kiss?”

She bit her lip softly. “I thought you’d never ask.”

They leaned in, his breath fanning across her lips for a split second before he pulled away.

“Wait…” He shuddered. “I never got your name.”

A soft smile came to her lips. “I’ll tell you after.”

His arms wrapped around her, pressing her body into his as their lips collided. He held onto her for dear life, terrified that the moment he pulled away, she would be gone.

He could feel things around him slow down, almost melting away, but he couldn’t tell if it was from the beauty of their kiss making him dizzy. A whirling silence overcame his senses. A burning sensation sliced through his abdomen; his breath ripped from his lungs.

A heavy darkness overtook his vision and for the briefest of moments, he felt absolutely nothing.

Except her lips.

<< |

#colby brock #colby brock fic #colby brock story #colby brock one shot #colby brock fanfiction #colby brock fanfic #colby brock oneshot #colby brock angst #sam golbach #sam and colby

186 notes · View notes

writingquestionsanswered · 4 years ago

Text

Tattoo Shop AU - a quick, practical guide for writers

Guest Post by lebanon-hangover

lebanon-hangover said: this is based on my personal experience with the industry only, so depending on the era and country you are portraying, it may not be 100% accurate for your setting.

Hygiene

It may not be obvious at first glance, but most tattooists are clean freaks. We work with human blood every day, and we get clients from all ages, ethnic and social economic backgrounds, with all sorts of medical conditions.

We usually mop frequently, bleach the sinks, wipe down everything, and use cling film or bags to wrap everything. I mean fucking everything. We also scrub in, and sanitise the area on the person we work on.

Needles are collected in a sharps bin, and handled very carefully. Medical waste goes in yellow bags, and both are collected by a professional service.

Used ink caps may look full, but the ink gets diluted by blood. Like you dip the inky needle into the person, but you also dip the person’s blood into your ink. These are medical waste too.

Cleaning up must be done promptly after the session. Bin everything disposable, put things through the ultrasonic and the autoclave, and sanitise the area. We may take machines apart, but more for maintenance than cleaning, sometimes we swap parts in them too.

We have two sinks, one for hand washing, one for cleaning.

All inks and needles have use by dates.

The internal dynamics of a studio

Depending on the country, some tattoo shops tend to have ties to biker gangs, and some of those internal dynamics and unwritten rules are often present.

There’s a pecking order and it’s dead serious. Basically the longer you’ve been in a shop, the higher ‘rank’ you are, you get the better positioned stations, first pick of walk-ins, etc (Unless the client is asking for someone by name). Regardless of your actual experience in the industry, like if you move into your old apprentice’s shop, they are still senior to you. If the owner or their partner is an artist, obviously they are on top of the chain by default.

We are self employed, but we have a boss. You are only making money if you are working, but you still have set work hours.

We get paid by the clients, and we pay the studio a cut. In return, there are some items provided by them, and some we buy for ourselves. Usually the chairs, tattoo beds, gloves, cleaning products, clip cord covers, masks, aprons, ink caps, vaseline, green soap, and some basic ink is provided by the shop. We buy our own machines, arm rests, stations, pedals, power supplies, clipcords, tips and grips, needles, special colours, stencil fluid…these are a personal preference, and often depend on the artists’ style.

We totally ask to try out each other’s equipment sometimes, or ask for a certain type of needle if we ran out.

The receptionist is usually just one of us, maybe a piercer, but it also can be a hired person in top studios.

The apprentice in the traditional system is often mistreated, and they have to pay for their education, have to be there multiple days a week and don’t make any money. It’s kind of like a tear them down, build them back up again thing to see if they are really serious about the job. Times are slowly changing, but 99% of them will always need a second job. Most of them are working as bar staff.

When you open a new studio, you must visit all the existing local ones and introduce yourself, otherwise you may get a brick through the window. Otherwise there’s not much beef among individual artists, they are often friends, go to conventions together and party after, etc.

The Artists

Tattooing is a fairly physical job, stretching skin is very important. We have to also keep our clients safely still, so we often use positions to pin them down a bit. Sometimes you hit a reflex point on the foot or under a knee, and you don’t want to get kicked. Sometimes you have to pull away super fast, cos they are sneezing, yawning or giggling.

Most tattooists drink a lot of coffee, tea or energy drinks.

Some people are all rounders, some have specific styles, but we recognise each other’s art styles. Sometimes we delegate work to each other, if we think our coworkers style fits the concept better. For example if there’s a person who does script well, we give them those projects.

We don’t like when people come in with designs from other artists. Art theft is frowned upon, and we work best with our own drawings.

Most apprentices practice on their own legs, and sometimes we tattoo each other when it’s quiet. Most people have cover ups, or bad pieces from their early days. The artists’ own tattoos sometimes are in a different style than what they do, but we like to collect ink from friends or colleagues we admire.

In the first 1-2 years one is an apprentice, then junior artist. At 5-8 years of tattooing, you have earned your stripes and are considered an experienced artist.

Conventions are really fun, but can be stressful. You can make good money working at one, and sometimes get awarded for it too. We can also spend a lot at a convention.

Sometimes we poke our fingers by accident, and it’s a scary thing. Good case scenario is just some random dots on your fingers. Let’s not go into the bad case scenario.

We do guest spots sometimes, just to meet new clients, and change it up a bit.

We spend a lot of time drawing up things, and designs are meant to fall on specific muscles, stretch with the skin a certain way, so they are tailored to the body proportions of the client. A good tattoo is also an optical illusion, complimenting the body shape.

Social media presence is like a second job, you need good photos, and you need to market yourself.

Tattoo ink does not wash out, so some stains are inevitable when pouring it out. Those ink bottles get stuck so easily, and we wrestle them a lot. We try to avoid it, but wearing all dark colours is a thing for a reason.

The Clients

Tattooists need to have a good ‘bedside manners’ too. We get nervous or self conscious people, and we are told personal things during long sessions. For example scar coverups and memorial pieces can be very emotional.

We have pretty good poker faces and first aid trainings. People can faint, get shaky, throw up, some have seizures, have b.o., get sweaty, etc the same way as at a blood donation event? It’s no big deal really. We sit them down, give them some water and some sugar, and re-book them if necessary. Most artists keep some wet wipes, mouth wash, deodorant, sweets, maybe even some clean clothes at work, just in case.

If someone comes in with a wild idea for a jobstopper, we would sit down and have a long talk. If they haven��t got many tattoos, we usually try to stir them towards more safe choices, offering them creative ideas. It’s like those jedi mind tricks sometimes.

If someone is undecided, we show them our own hand drawn flash sheets. Once its gone, its gone tho, we don’t use the designs twice.

Pinterest is full of photoshopped fake tattoos, some that won’t even work as real ink. Many people also touch up their work digitally on photos, so some clients have really unrealistic expectations.

We can totally tell if someone is intoxicated or hangover. It thins the blood, and they bleed out the ink, and it’s super annoying. if it’s bad, they will be sent home and rebooked.

Some folks are self conscious about body hair, their size, stretch marks and scars. Chances are, we have seen similar, and we aren’t bothered by it, because it’s work. Surgery scars, scars from accidents, self harm scars, burns, we see it all the time. We shave some really hairy dudes all the time girl, your legs are fine. Seriously. If something makes tattooing you dangerous we will tell you.

Fit, muscular people are harder to tattoo because they are really firm. Its a workout for us.

Everyone gets midnight messages about the aftercare from nervous clients, and drunken booty calls about getting inked right at this second. We have copy paste replies…

We get creeps sometimes. Stalking, weird conversations, tmi info dumps etc.

Other things to include (for fun, or for plot reasons)

We sometimes have those “oh fuck” moments. We all do, but mistakes can be fixed, and we play it cool.

Tattooing takes time. Usually 30 minutes to multiple sessions though years and years.

Healing tattoos takes about 2-4ish weeks, and your characters shouldn’t go roll around in dirt, sunbathe, swim, pick at the scabs. Nasty infections, and messed up tattoos would be the results.

If you have a strong immune system, and you get a lot of work done in one sitting, you may get a brief bit of a temperature. It’s normal, and will go away.

Its a lot easier to get seriously drunk after getting a tattoo. Be careful.

We sometimes draw on each other for practice with our marker pens.

Tattoos are inside the skin, not on top of it. Imagine a low opacity, skin toned layer over the ink, adding to the healed tattoos’ colour. Please stop making your characters skin fully transparent.

Heavy blackwork and palms are done in multiple sessions.

You can’t cover up moles, because if they develop skin cancer, the dermatologist can’t see the signs.

There’s a stereotype about piercers having blacked out sleeves.

Stencil fluid looks just like cum.

You get that annoying itch on your face when you scrubbed in, put on gloves and finally ready to go.

Some artists have a strong preference for coil or rotary machines, and they bicker about it a lot. Coils are louder, more punchy, and more traditional, perfect for lineart. They can be customised, and they last forever. They are also called glorified doorbells by people who prefer rotaries. Rotary machines are smoother, lighter, and often use needles that are pulled back into the cartridges for safety. They are better for shading and delicate line work. Older tattooists often say they are dildo or butt plug shaped, overly delicate and are for “soft millennials” only.

Every artist owns like 5 to 20 machines, and they have specific machine builders they are loyal to.

The “which cable is broken and cutting out” guessing game. Clip cords and pedal cables get worn out easily, and that results in your machine running really jerky.

Walk-in always show up 10 minutes before closing.

We often look quite silly at work. Sleeves rolled up, folks use all sorts of plastic ppe, headlamps, and we tie up our hair. Add couple of purple smears from carbon paper, and we aren’t scary at all.

#writing guide #writing tips #writing advice #writer's guide #writeblr #writing community #writing #writing help #submission

383 notes · View notes

realcube · 4 years ago

Text

class 1-A’s love languages headcanons 💕

tw// swearing, crying, she/her reader

Yuuga Aoyama

his love language is words of affirmation

like tell him that he looks fabulous but he is also a talented hero

and. he. will. die.

of happiness ofc 🥰

and whenever you are feelin’ insecure he’ll do a pretend fashion show with you to boost you spirits (o゜▽゜)o☆

Mina Ashido

her love language is physical touch

but not in a *holds your hand 🥺* *kithes🥰* sorta way

but rather in a

“YOU’RE SO FKN CUTE, (Y/N)!!!” *aggressively pinches your cheeks*

and whenever she kisses/hugs you, it’s always a surprise attack form behind

she is also 159cm in height (almost 5″3)

so if you are shorter than her, she’ll sprint up to you and before you have time to react, she’ll engulf you in her arms

if you are around the same height as her, she’ll sneak up to you and try to jump onto your back, peppering you in neck kisses

and if you are taller than her, she’ll grab your hand and place a kiss on the back of it

Tsuyu Asui

i think her love language is gift giving

but not typically gifts from the store

it’s usually cute flowers or any sort of pretty flora that she finds on her walks

and she’ll sometimes come to your room just before lights-out and hand you a shiny rock or a colourful flower like “hi, (y/n). i found this flower in the park a nd it reminded me of you. so here, i hope you like it.”

then you cry (❤´艸｀❤) it’s too precious

also when she visits your dorm, she notices that you have a jar filled with all the flowers she’s every gave you and shE BRAIDS THEM INTO YOUR HAIR

and if you don’t have hair, she makes you a flower crown out of them

Tenya Iida

the king of gifts periodt ✋

to him, gift giving is kinda like a sport and if it was, he’d definitely be winning

he’ll be out getting groceries or sumn then he’ll pass the candy aisle and just *flashback to 3 months ago when y’all were studying together and you randomly said you were craving sour patch kids*

then he buys two packs of sour patch kids (❤ ω ❤)

so obviously excels during holidays like christmas, valentines day or your birthday

and if you make it explicitly clear that you need something (ex. water, medication, cutlery, soap etc.) and you will go get it in x amount of day(s)

expect it to be in your hands within 1-9 hours

“Iida, you didn’t have to rush out to get me Ibuprofen - I was going to go get some in a few days anyway.”

“Yes, but as a hero in training, you must agree that seeing your partner potentially suffer to due a preventable cause would be inhumane.”

“I-..”

Ochaco Uraraka

her love language is probably quality time

OR words of affirmation BUT ONLY ONLINE

like irl she loves going on lil’ picnic dates with you or dates to go watch the sunset or star-gazing..or literally anything where she gets to spend as much time in your presence as possible

you could literally take her on a date inside the sewers and she’d be like 🥰

in the moment (during the date) she just looks at you and wants to tell you how beautiful you are but she is way too nervous

but as soon you leave she texts you sumn like ‘OMG >< YOU ARE SO GORGEOUS 😍 AND I WANTED TO TELL YOU SO BAD BUT I COULDN’T 😩’

also, hypothetically, if she had a phone which supported social media platforms like Instagram and Snapchat

she would definitely be the sort of girl to post cute candid pics of you on any special occasion and i mean ANY

like she doesn’t want to just random post pics of you bc she thinks that’d be weird so she looks for any excuse she can

deadass she’d post a beach pic of you and her on her insta with a caption like, ‘happy pancake day to @y/n.l/n 🥰💖 on our first date we shared a stack of pancakes so this is a really special day for us 💓 i’m so blessed to have a stunning, smart, amazing gal like her by my side always 💕’

Mashirao Ojiro

he’s a physical touch kinda guy

sometimes he’ll randomly drape his tail over your shoulder to pull you close

or he’ll pat your head with either his hand or tail when ever you do anything remotely impressive

“ooh, i’ve apparently taken 17k steps so far today, ojiro.”

then he’d be like “that’s good” *pat pat*

he also gets butterflies whenever you hug his arm or tail while he is talking to someone

AND HE WILL KISS YOUR WOUND BETTER IF YOU GET A PAPER CUT OR SUMN

Denki Kaminari

bb is blushing profusely when you hand him a pikachu plushie , saying it reminded you of him

before that, he was probably a physical touch sorta guy but once he realised how awesome and special that simple action made him feel, he became a gift-giver

however, 99.9% the gift is a plushie and the other 0.1% it’s a doll

(he literally bought a whole fkn barbie bc you owned a dress similar to the one the doll was wearing)

“it looks exactly like you!”

“i don’t think so..” “it literally does!”

anyway, whether he is at the mall, in the town, in a gift shop or at the carnival, if he sees something that he knows you’d like or that reminds him of you, he’ll stop at nothing to get his hands on it

flashback to that one time at the carnival, there was a stall that had a huge fkn Kuromi plushie up for grabs

so he asked the lady running the stall if he could have it and she said it was all his, if he could get a ball into the basket 3 times in a row

-- my man was sTANDING THERE DESPERATELY TRYING FOR 30 MINUTES STRAIGHT 😭

and once he figured he couldn’t do it on his own, he got the bakusquad to help him out

(bakugo was all like ‘i’m not helping you, dumbass’ but kirishima convinces him to give it a shot and as soon as he misses on the third shot, he is livid.)

(”YOUR STUPID PARTY GAME MUST BE BROKEN, LADY!”)

anyway, after an hour of holding up the line, the lady just gave the plush to kaminari for ¥1000

but it was all worth it after he saw how thrilled you were 🥺

he came round to your dorm one day and noticed every plushie he had ever given you, sitting on your bed

you told him that they help you sleep and he just..died..

IT MADE HIM SO FKN HAPPY TO THINK THAT YOU TREASURE HIS GIFTS SO MUCH (≧▽≦*)

Eijirou Kirishima

his love language is words of affirmation imo but with a sprinkle of physical touch

like whenever he sees you looking nice or sumn..he’ll just tell you

he has no shame and why should he? he’s just telling the truth

if you walk into the room looking ✨immaculate✨ he will tell you

he’s just like ‘if nobody else is going to say it then I will.’

when your face lights up after he has just told you that you’re beautiful or that you’re one of the most likeable people he’s ever met; it makes his day every. single. time.

the sprinkle of physical touch is because he tells you what he is thinking all the time

and he thinks you’re stunning even when you are lounging around the dorm complex in casual wear and no makeup

so he’s aware that he might’ve watered down his compliments a bit by saying them too often

(even though he’s telling the truth every time)

so he likes to give you hugs and kisses to express his affection without seeming like he’s buttering you up

Kouji Kouda

honestly, idek which category he falls under bc he does so many different things to show his love

like, he’ll use his quirk to get a butterfly to land on your head so you can take the perfect photo for instagram

he always holds your hand in crowded areas so y’all don’t lose each other

(he would end up crying in the corner of a Hot Topic or sumn if he couldn’t find you tbh)

he writes mini-love notes v. late at night and uses his quirk to get an insect or bird to carry it up to your room

religiously takes you out on dates to the park

or library/study dates (p≧w≦q)

Rikidou Satou

acts of service but mostly to do with baking

if his s/o doesn’t like sweet treats then..it just..can’t work

he’s very good at noticing when you are down and what he bakes depends on the severity of the situation

like, if you’re just a bit bummed because you got a bad mark on a test, he’ll bake cupcakes and leave a few outside your dorm

obvs accompanied by a cute lil note abt how proud you make him and how you’re the most diligent person he’s met so he knows that you’ll succeed if you just persevere

and as soon as you come to him with your improved mark, he’ll bake you a cake with ‘congratulations, (Y/N).’ written on it

Mezou Shouji

acts of service. but like..service service

he treats you like royalty-

he is the kind of bf to give you his jacket if you’re cold

he can and will use his quirk to form more arms just so he can hold your bags along with his own

if you enter is dorm and he doesn’t offer to take your jacket immediately then i’m sorry to inform you but that is not shouji..that is toga in disguise

you’ll never have to open a door if you are walking next to him and don’t you dare even try to

just an overall gentleman tbh

sometimes you try to get him to stop being so kind bc you’re afraid ppl will think you treat him like a butler

so he’ll be like “sure ..

i’ll hold just your gym bag rather than your gym bag and school bag.”

“don’t hold any bags, shouji..”

Kyouka Jirou

her love language is definitely quality time

there is nothing she loves more than vibing with you in her room - whether y’all are studying, cuddling, playing videos games or something else - while chill music plays in the background, either from a playlist or from her playing it herself on one of her instruments

and sometimes when she’s feeling especially comfortable, she might hum a tune or sing some lyrics to match the mood

she asks you for suggestions for music to put on bc she loves introducing herself to new music

but when you’re concentrated, she doesn’t want to disturb you so she just puts on a playlist she made prior

she doesn’t create a new playlist each time you hang out but there is at least 10 new songs added to it every day

the playlist is called ‘lazy days w/ (y/n) 💕’

anyway, she just loves hanging out with you bc you’re one of the very few people who don’t annoy tf out of her

also - she’d never say it aloud but - she thinks you’ve got a very comforting presence and you make her feel so exhilarated whenever you laugh (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ)

Hanta Sero

Sero loves spending as much time with you as possible - hence, he’s a quality time sorta person

but i also think he’s barely a quality time guy bc he expresses his affection in so many different ways

he’s like a mix of 4

( not gift-giving, whenever it comes time to get you gift for whatever occasion, he’s always stumped and ends up asking someone for help)

he preforms acts of service in a sense that if you are both cuddling on the couch and you are cold - even if he seriously can’t be assed to move - he’ll force himself to get up and bring you a blanket

he is really good at compliments bc he barely has a filter so if he sees you looking good, he’ll straight up tell you

plus, he loves seeing your reaction - especially when you get all flustered

and physical touch bc..cuddles :)

to him, there is just something reassuring about having you in his arms

Fumikage Tokoyami

a quality time man mwah

he doesn’t play music on speakers when y’all hang out though, he just likes to sit with you and either mindlessly chatter or chill in comfortable silence

he also doesn’t put in earbuds bc he thinks it’s rude

(you assure him that you don’t mind if he puts his earbuds in but he is always like..no..)

he just loves your company bc he seriously can’t think of somebody he’d rather spend his time with

also he is convinced that he does things 10 times better with you around

when he’s not with you though, he misses you- like- seriously

sometimes he’s just out with his friends or watching a movie with his family and he is just like ‘this’d be more fun if (Y/N) was here-’

and you said that you missed him too when y’all weren’t together

so he did the reasonable thing and made you a playlist for you to listen to whenever you missed him ( •̀ ω •́ )

he sent you the link and your heart stopped bc it was literally called ‘i love you 🖤’ AND THAT WAS THE FIRST TIME HE’S EVER TOLD YOU THAT AAAAA

‘you’re so sweet, tokoyami 🥺 i love you tooooo’

and good thing that was over text bc otherwise you would’ve seen him blushing profusely (= ╯▽╰ = )

as for the contents of the playlist; it’s probably quite diverse

some alt pop, some indie, a bit of R&B, pop rock and a lot of Metal/Rock

Shouto Todoroki

his love language is acts of service

most of them are school related though

he can easily tell if you’re struggling with the coursework and asks you if you want go on a lil study date at the library or in his dorm

he also helps you with homework or explains the material to you if you don’t understand it

and he’s the best teacher since he’s extremely patient and well-spoken

if you’re feeling under the weather, he’ll head to your dorm to fetch your notebook so he can write the class notes for you

and he’ll put in the effort to make them as similar to your other notes as he can

so he flicks through the pages and (for example) if you have a highlighting code, he’ll look for the legend and highlight the notes he took accordingly

once school is over for the day, he goes to your dorm to drop off the notebook, putting it back in the respective part of your bag

and the next day when you open your notebook to check the notes, you notice that he wrote a little note for you;

‘get well soon 💛’

it was a simple, kind gesture but the small details like how he coloured in the heart with a glittery yellow highlighter he must’ve took from your bag had you blushing (^///^)

also, whenever you’ve scheduled a study date at his dorm, there is no way in hell you’ll walk into his room and there isn’t 2 bowls of fresh soba sitting on the desk

no way. impossible.

(or if you don’t like noodles, then two bowls of rice.)

Tooru Hagakure

physical touch bb

she just likes you to know that she is there

also she loves how soft your skin is ^^

she really likes surprise hugging you from behind and you’d think that she’d be very good at that considering that she is.. invisible.. but she’s really not

she has very unique and recognisable voice

and whenever she creeps up behind you, she’s always snickering quite loudly

but you like seeing her happy when she thinks she surprised you so you just think to yourself ‘get ready to pretend to be shocked’

so as soon as she wraps her arms around you and goes ‘boo!’, you jump and always say the same stupid line you wish you would stop using but it just comes out naturally

“ope, didn’t see you there, tooru.”

but it makes her laugh every time so maybe it’s not such a bad habit

Katsuki Bakugo

he’s definitely a physical touch kinda guy but tries to be an acts of service man..y’know?

he doesn’t want you thinking that he likes hugging, cuddling, kisses or any of that none-sense bc..he is a big macho king explosion murder

and he knows that if he gets to comfortable with showing affection through physical touch, it’d become a habit then he might do it in public and the last thing he wanted was a rumour coming out that ‘king explosion murder is actually a huge cuddle-bug dork!’

so he hides it the best he can and expresses his love by like letting you wear his hoodie and not cussing you out when you do something stupid

but the fact is, nothing makes him feel better than holding you in his arms - under a blanket or not - with your face buried into his chest and your arm lazing draped over his shoulder

he usually does a good job at resisting his urge to randomly kiss you or take your hand in public

but there was that one time

luckily, it was on a date rather than on a school outing so it was only you who knows about it

it was probably around 6 months after y’all first started dating and he took you on a date to the carnival

there was a gang of boys who looked around a few years older than y’all and they were chatting amongst themselves until they approached the line you and Bakugo were waiting in (to get onto a ride at the carnival) and the group of boys stood behind you in line

at first everything was alright; they were just chatting while you were raving on about the ride to bakugo but he kinda tuned you out after he heard one of the guys say something along the lines of

“she’s kinda hot- a bit young but so fit. i think she’s from the UA too.”

that comment was enough to make his blood boil but a separate comment from one of the other guys tipped him over the edge,

“yeah and look at the guy she’s with. he’s the feral guy that needed to be put in chains at the sports festival - how embarassing.” he snickered, which was genuinely one of the most annoying noises bakugo has ever heard

his voice was low, in a whisper so they probably didn’t expect bakugo to hear it over the background noise of the carnival along with the girl yapping in his ear

but he did

and when i tell you this man was livid

in that moment he seriously considered just turning around and burning each and every one of those guys into a crisp

but the law-abiding citizen and hero inside him said no

instead, he fiercely snaked his arms around your hips to pull you into his chest and looked over his shoulders to shoot literal daggers at the guys

he led you out of the line for the ride in silence and you followed him without question - having heard the things those guys said but choosing to pretend as if you didn’t

“What was that about?” You finally asked as he brought you over to a bench, pulling you onto his lap

“Nothing.” He said, oddly calm as he stared into the void

“Okay.” You rolled your eyes, deciding not to pry as you obviously already knew what provoked him to do that. “I’m gonna go get some cotton candy then. Do you want some?”

“No.” He replied monotonously, allowing you to hop off his knee but immediately grabbing your hand, preventing you from going any farther than arms length from him.

“you needy cow.” you giggled, playfully kicking his shin, “I’m so hungry - let me go!”

“No.” He replied in the same monotone voice. “I can’t be assed to move.”

You leaned back, pulling your whole weight backwards to try get Bakugo to release his grip on your hand and eventually he gave in and got up, sluggishly following you to go get cotton candy

you gleefully popped some of the delectable fluff into your mouth before sneaking some into bakugo’s mouth too.

“are you gonna let go of my hand any time soon?” you asked, wanting to hold the bag of cotton candy for yourself but instead having one hand interlocked with his and the other being used to rip small pieces off as Bakugo held the bag in his spare hand

“No.”

[(a/n): not the over-used jealousy trope 🙊]

Izuku Midoriya

definitely a words of affirmation kinda guy

bc he knows what it’s like to have to go through life with barely anyone besides your mother telling you that your great and that you’re worthy. it’s depressing and traumatic and he wouldn’t wish that misery on his worst enemy

so he’s like your personal hypeman :)

making sure that you always feel appreciated, confident and loved

during the sports festival or anything similar, he’s always louder than the cheerleaders when it comes to your turn to shine

“GO, (Y/N)! YOU’RE SO POWERFUL, YOU CAN DO THIS! I BELIEVE IN YOU! REMEMBER TO BREATHE!”

slightly embarrassing for him but when he sees you smile confidently back at him, every ounce of embarrassment melts away and he is just filled with joy

he gets really emotional sometimes as well

but not like ‘you just faced an opponent and won bc one all your hard work and training - i am so proud of you’ sorta emotional

but like ‘omg you walked into his dorm wearing a new dress and you look really beautiful and you smiled at him so emotions wash over him and he just cries bc he realises how lucky he is to have you.’

he loves to receive words of admiration from you too though

one time you wrote him a birthday card and signed it off as ‘the future wife of the #1 pro-hero’

and as badly as you wanted to just sign it as ‘from the future pro-hero 😘’

you didn’t bc you knew how happy the other option would make him

Minoru Mineta

idk perversion ig?

wait no his love language is titties and/or ass

Momo Yaoyorozu

gift. giving.

like you have no idea how much serotonin she gets when she sees you overjoyed at gift she gives you

bc in her mind she knows that it was her that made you that happy and no amount of trophies will ever compare to how accomplished she feels for being the reason behind your smile

she’s a QUEEN 👑 UGH 😩💓

322 notes · View notes

kiingocreative · 3 years ago

Text

The Structure of Story is now available! Check it out on Amazon, via the link in our bio, or at https://kiingo.co/book

If you ask around, a lot of successful writers will tell you that they look at their writing the same way they would a business. And what do successful business all have in common? They have clearly defined brands that are designed to appeal to their target audience or customers.

What does that mean, concretely?

• It means that they know what they stand for, what their values are and what they’re offering.

• It means that they know who their target customer is, in terms of demographics, likes and dislikes, and general lifestyle or habits.

• It means that their messaging and content is tailored to appeal to that type of customer…

• …So that, ultimately, when their ideal customer lands on their social media pages or website, they can relate to everything on there and be more inclined to purchase a product or service.

Being a writers is no different, in that your work will be, by design, targeted to only a segment of the population. Nurturing your brand is how you’ll ensure your book will be put in front of the right readers, and have the best possible chances of success.

Before you set out on your journey to building your online presence, therefore, think about what you want your channels to reflect—be it across social media or through your website. The online image you’ll be creating has to be consistent across all of the mediums you are leveraging.

This by no means implies your online persona should be fake—quite the opposite in fact! The more genuine your online image is, the easier it will be to maintain over time and the more believable and consistent it will appear (because it’ll be true!).

Why Your Online Image Matters.

Trying to maintain a fake image will, at best, make it unconvincing and, at worst, confusing.

And that’s the thing.

Most people reject what they don’t understand. If they check out your content and it looks all over the place or doesn’t make sense, they’ll simply move on. Confusion turns people away from your content before they’ve had a chance to hear what you have to say.

Ask yourself some questions before you start:

• Who are you? What makes you, YOU? What is unique to you?

• When people think of you, what do you want them to think about? Someone who’s fun? Quirky? Talks about things as they are? Someone who’s formal? Someone with a particular interest? etc.

• How does this translate into the look and feel and content of your social media channels, your website etc.?

Take some time to write this down and use it to create your brand guidelines. And I mean exactly that: write it down. Make it a rulebook, and refer to it regularly. It may change and evolve with time, but having a reference point you can physically consult (as opposed to shreds of an idea of what your brand is about somewhere in your mind) will keep you and your brand on track.

Everything you post about, and the format in which you share it (e.g. photos, videos, long captions, blog posts, newsletter etc.) should be in line with the image you’re building.

From there, identify who your target audience is, and make sure your message (and its delivery) is relatable and appealing to that audience. It can take some trial and error to get right, so give yourself room to learn and grow!

Your Instagram Brand: Content vs. Aesthetics.

Looking at Instagram, you’ll see two main types of focus:

• Focus on aesthetics: these are feeds with high quality, impeccable pictures, quirky reels/videos, with a consistent theme and colour palette, and a huge focus on being visually pleasing.

• Focus on content: feeds where more thought and effort is placed on the post captions.

There are different ratios in which you can combine the two. Go back to your brand guidelines and see which ratio or combination of the two feels like a better fit. Ask yourself what would be more relatable for your target audience. Find what resonates most with you and your brand and stick to it, especially at the beginning when you’re growing a platform.

If you’re unsure what’s right for you, there’s no need to reinvent the wheel. Take some time to browse Bookstagram and find accounts you like. See what they’re doing and use the techniques you can see are working for them and feel right to you. Find what works, throw away what doesn’t.

Whatever you do, keep it consistent.

Wherever you land on the ‘aesthetics focus’ to ‘content focus’ ratio, as with a lot of things the first thing that people see when they land onto your channels (be it your instagram feed, your website etc.) is… Well. What they SEE.

People’s opinion of you based on your content will likely be formed (often subconsciously) within seconds of landing on your website or feed. Within those few seconds, they’ll decide whether or not to stick around or bounce, never to come back again.

For that reason, it’s important to keep the look and feel of your content generally consistent. Remember, confusing people is the surest way to fry their brains and turn them away from your channels before they give you, or what you have to say, a chance.

Your channels should all reflect the same look and the same message, i.e. they should look like they belong to the same person, and not show people one person on Instagram, a different one on your website and yet another one on Facebook. Things need to line up for your audience to get a sense of who you are and what you’re about, so that they can evaluate whether or not they can relate to it all. Once again, and I can’t say this enough, confused brand messaging is your worst enemy.

Professional, or not at all.

Consistency is one thing, and it’s crucial, but it’ll mean nothing if your channels don’t all look professional. Professional doesn’t mean it can’t also have a casual vibe, or be a friendly brand. Professional means whatever your brand is, it should have a certain polish to it, and clearly show that it was thought through and well-executed.

If you’re not convinced, riddle me this: When you land on a website that looked hacky or unsafe, do you still stuck around and browse through it? Or when you find an instagram account with burry pictures, weird-looking captions and totally unrelated content throughout, do you still scroll through for more?

…

My guess is you wouldn’t, because when you find something that looks dodgy (or, in other words, unprofessional) you can’t get away from it fast enough. We all do, because on a primal level that sense of uneasiness, uncertainty and insecurity signals to our brain that there may be danger, and it triggers our flight response.

Here are some prompts to get you started with building professional-looking and consistent channels:

On Instagram:

• What’s your Instagram handle? It is unique and memorable? Find a handle that says what it does on the tin, and one that doesn’t include a string of random numbers and letters. e.g. @authorjohnsmith is good, but @johnny_1999 and @John_Smith99 aren’t because they say nothing about who you are and they won’t be easy to remember.

• What type of pictures are you posting? Are they all clear and high-quality?

• Will you be using filters? If so which one? Ideally pick one and stick to it to give your feed a homogeneous look.

• What format are you using for your captions?

• Are your captions properly spaced out and easy to read?

• What content are you planning to post? Will there be recurring themes? If so, which ones?

On your website:

• Does your website look professional? Or does it look like a dodgy website that people will want to run away from immediately?

• Is your domain clear, specific and easy to remember?

• What does your landing page (your website home page) say about you?

• What imagery are you using?

• Is the look and feel of your website aligned with the look and feel of your Instagram feed? i.e. do they look like they belong to the same person?

• If your website navigation clear?

• How many clicks does it take to go from your home page to finding key information about you and your books?

• Is it easy for people to get in touch with you?

REAL and GENUINE does it.

I appreciate that a lot of the information we’ve covered so far sounds like it involves a lot of over-engineering of your online persona, but that isn’t to say that to succeed you need create a fake alter-ego.

Quite the opposite, actually.

What it suggests is that you should take some time to think about what makes you YOU, what feels real and genuine to YOU and to see how you can best translate that into images and content that will help people get to know YOU and what you stand for.

The illusion of perfection won’t make you attractive. All it’ll do is make you seem one-dimensional, and most likely make it look like you lack substance. In this day and age, people like to be able to relate to others and to see what goes on behind the scenes, the good AND the bad.

That’s all that your writer brand is. And the people who can relate to it will be the ones who stick around to hear more of what you have to say and will be more likely to enjoy your books.

In fact, look at it that way: building our writer brand online is like matching-making our books to their ideal readers. It’s getting our work in front of the people who are primed to love it and embrace it. And if we’ll give our characters a chance to find their literary soul-mates, why wouldn’t we grant our books the same courtesy?

#writingtips #screenwriting #creative writing #writers on tumblr #writers #writing #writerblr #writing advice #writing community #writing resources

26 notes · View notes

russian-romanova · 4 years ago

Text

the one that got away

title: the one that got away

pairing: joe goldberg

warnings: adult language, spoilers for season two of ‘you’, very brief mentions of violence

notes: joe’s pov. i haven’t gotten anything out there in a while, so here’s this.

summary: it’s been years since you ran out on your high school boyfriend joe goldberg. now that he’s seen you again, maybe it’s time to find out if your instincts were right.

+ + +

There was a part of me that had forgotten about you. I would go months without thinking about you, but then the strangest things would conjure up an image of you or your name would ring in my ears for a moment or two before passing out again. So don’t make the mistake of thinking I forgot about you, Y/N. I never forgot. Not really.

We dated in high school, which doesn’t mean much at face value. High School relationships are the ones that are the most fragile when boys can’t control their own body parts and girls don’t seem to know the word ‘boundary’. The teen couples that come into Mooney’s are the worst relationships, where they hold hands and kiss every time they turn a corner. It takes all I have not to turn them away.

But we were… different. We were good, and we took it slow. I was quiet and you were sweet, and God, I don’t think I could ever recreate that high I would get when I walked into school and would see you waiting at my locker, reading some book I had given you or eating some breakfast dessert. We didn’t rush anything, we were slow and steady friends more than anything, at least before we kissed. And when we did kiss, it wasn’t bumbling or awkward like teenage kisses should be. It was perfect, Y/N. Like it was meant to be.

You know why I’m bringing this up. I saw you at some supermarket the other day, in LA. It wasn’t Anavrin or any of those frighteningly strict healthy eating markets. It was just some supermarket I went to in search of some food I had been thinking about, and I saw you in the cereal aisle. You didn’t see me, Y/N, although I wasn’t sure if you would have even recognized me. You had a box of ‘Cinnamon Toast Crunch’ in one hand and a box of whatever the generic brand was in the other. I watched you for a moment, turn the first box over, then the second, before sighing and adding the generic one to your cart. I turned my body so you couldn’t see my face as I waited, only turning once I was sure you had left the aisle the opposite way of me.

Trust me, Y/N, I almost couldn’t believe my eyes. I had to double-take to even think it was you, and then I ended up staring at you for a full five seconds before I remembered where I even was. A supermarket. In LA.

Really, the strangest part was that I had been in LA for around a month and hadn’t somehow caught wind of you. Sure, LA’s a big city, perfect for disappearing -- I should know -- but I have a sixth sense for these sorts of things. It helps that I’ve been trying to stay away from you, really, I stopped searching your name on the internet long ago and I’ve been trying to push you out of my mind.

Still -- I see in you in all of their eyes. Candace. Beck. Love.

Then you pushed your cart away from me and left behind the corner. I trailed behind you for a while, because how are you supposed to see your high school sweetheart and just forget about it? You picked out black beans and condiments, grabbed crackers and milk. Then you were gone.

But I knew you were in LA, and that got me through a while. I was distracted at work, distracted with Love. Even Ellie knew something was off, and of course, I couldn’t tell any of them about you, Y/N. I made up some lie about work or the news, but I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I wondered if you shopped every Tuesday afternoon if I would have a chance of seeing you again if I waited there next week. If you saw me first, would you interact? Would you know what I was doing and confront me or would you leave and hope that I didn’t see you? Would you see me at all?

No, I knew that I had to find you before then, preferably someplace where I wouldn’t look like some random creep approaching a pretty girl. I had to do my research.

I didn’t know whether to be impressed or disappointed when I discovered both an Instagram and a Facebook account that were both private. You were aware of security, at least a little. You had a public twitter account, but nothing you posted on there really pertained to you on a personal level, mostly retweets about characters or politics.

Roughly three weeks ago, you had retweeted some comedic tweet about the benefits of being single. This was a good sign, Y/N. My expectations were set low, but the more I learned about you, the higher they became. I couldn’t stop thinking about you, about our high school years, and how happy we both were. We could be like that again.

I was about to give up on the social media scour when I saw an Instagram account linked to your twitter account, completely different from the one I had already stumbled upon. This one was a much vaguer account, with some photos you must have taken, mostly of other people or of aesthetically pleasing nature views or buildings. The photographs that caught my eye the most -- and I’m sure you understand why, Y/N -- were the ones of Farmington Park and the one of a house front. The house numbers were blurred out, but it wasn’t that hard to trace around on Google Earth. I extended the view and followed the roads surrounding Farmington Park, making the assumption that you were near to it judging by the amount of photots you had posted of it, until I found the house that seemed the most familiar, the one that matched up perectly with the photograph. Bingo.

You should be more careful, Y/N.

✾ ✾ ✾

And so I wait. I see you again, but no longer by accident. I don my jacket and cap, and I wait at the bench near your house -- just a man reading a book, nothing anyone will pay too much attention to. I see you leave your house, which I’m relieved to see you walk out of. I’ve been wrong in the past, and it’s the worst possible feeling I could imagine. But you looked right at me, Y/N. The second day, you walked out of your bright red door and made direct eye contact with me. I have sunglasses on, so I don’t know if you can tell I’m looking back, but you stare at me for a few seconds, and then you move on. I worried you had maybe seen me, but the next day I returned and you didn’t think much of it.

Tuesdays and Thursdays is when you went to the park. As the sunsets, to get those stereotypical sunset photos, I presume, and you stay until late on Tuesday nights because you have Wednesdays off. It’s abandoned by the time it’s nine pm, the perk of small parks in big cities. So I waited until I was ready, until I thought you would be ready, and then I decided it was time to meet you.

8:42 on a Tuesday night, and I’ve never been more terrified before. I sit in the grass and watch you as the people slowly go home, watching you on your phone and messing with your camera. I notice for the first time, the green bracelet on your arm, which I recognize instantly, because I gave you that bracelet, Y/N. In high school, for your birthday. I gave it to you years ago, and you still wear it.

That almost gives me hope.

I had a plan. Once it was empty enough, I took off my hat and sunglasses, and I just sat there. You needed to come to me, to feel comfortable enough to do so. It was going to be an accident that I was here, nothing creepy. Nothing to feed your worries or stresses. I wasn’t a worry, I was a comfort that was reappearing after years and years.

When you saw me, your froze. You just stood there, unmoving and possibly unbreathing, frozen in a moment either now or in the past, mind racing and heart too fast. I waited for you, patiently. It was hard to not run up to you, to talk to you unprompted. But I had waited this long, I could wait a few minutes more.

Finally, you spoke. “What are you doing here?”

I looked up, feigning surprise. “Oh my God, Y/N,” I closed my book and stood up, smiling as if I had no idea you still existed. “What are you doing in LA?”

“Cut the bullshit. I saw you the other day. At least, I thought I saw someone that looked just like you, and now I’m pretty fucking sure that was you, Joe. This can’t be happening. This isn’t-” You trailed off, mumbling to yourself. Your were suspitious, but I could work with suspicious.

“You saw me? Seriously? Where was it?” I laugh as if I’m more confused than you are, still confused and surprised. Keep it up, Joe. Patience. “Why didn’t you-”

“Stop it. You were-” You stopped talking, your eyes widening a little at the absurdity of the situation. “You looked at me, Joe. I know you’re lying, so cut the bullshit. Be honest.”

I think it over for a minute. “I didn’t know if it was actually you or not.” I say, a little bit quieter. I feel like a kid again, and we haven’t even been talking for a minute.

“Honest,” You repeated. “I’m not new to your games, Joe. Where did you see me first?”

“The bus stop,” I say, maintaining eye contact. You give me your ‘bullshit’ look, and I realize nothing has changed. I almost smile before I remember what’s happening, that I need to work fast and convince you. I can’t lose you again, not now that I’ve found you. “The bus stop,” I reaffirm, before adding. “Nice bracelet.”

And I’ve changed the subject.

“I need to go home,” You say, sounding tired and frantic.

I take a step forward. “Let me walk you,”

“No, Joe.” You say loudly at first, and then repeat it a little softer.

“Please, Y/N,” I say in a tone that we both know is close to a beg. You look at me with those big fucking eyes and I hope I’m making the same expression back. The puppy dog eyes are something we’ve both mastered.

“Joe, I don’t love you anymore.” You say suddenly, and you throw your hands out to either side as if that’s it. As if that’s enough to satisfy me and it answers all my questions.

“Then why are you still wearing the bracelet?” I’m begging you now, pleading with you and I hate my own tone of voice.

You glance down at it as if you’ve forgotten about it. There’s a pause as you think for a moment, searching for words or for a lie. I’m frozen when I stand. “It’s not because I love you. It’s to remember.” You look up at me again, and your eyes aren’t just big anymore, they’re teary now. A part of me still wants to run to you, to tell you that it’s okay, but I know I can’t. “You killed me, Joe. Or you might as well have. I’m mourning her. I can’t forget her.”

Any act is long gone. We both know what you’re talking about, about all the conversations we had where you had tried to break up with me and I convinced you, about all the looks your had given me when I did something that would send off a red flag. “I didn’t, Y/N. I wouldn’t have. I was so careful with you.”

You look at me in a way I’ve never seen before. “I hid. I shouldn’t have had to hide. I changed so much about me, about who I was because I was scared you would find me somehow, I don’t know.” You run a distressed hand through your hair.

“Why? Why were you so scared of me, Y/N? I was just some kid in love. I loved you so much. I love you so much.” I take a step towards you.

You match it with one back, putting up a distressed hand. “Stop, Joe. Stop. I’m not doing this, okay? All of these things about you pointed to terror for me and I went with my gut because you hear all of these horror stories about girls and their boyfriends and it was better safe than sorry and-“ You sniff, wiping your nose with the back of your hand. You’re crying and I didn’t even realize it. “And I am sorry, Joe. I really am, but we both know that’s what I needed to do.” And you’re right, Y/N, and it would be a lie to deny it. I didn’t have to do anything to you and you knew who I was. No one has ever understood as well as you.

I am hurt as you look at me, somehow pained yet strong. “I’m sorry,” Is all I can manage out, and you don’t respond.

“I need to go home,” You say finally. “You do too, Joe. This is out there now, and we can move on. Okay? Don’t try to find me again.”

“But I can’t forget about you.” I don’t know if I’m making excuses or being honest anymore. For a split second, I think about lunging at you, grabbing you or striking you or something -- but then I remember that this isn’t just anyone. This is you. Candace, Beck, Love, they’re all modelled after you. I think that’s all I’m working for, is you again. Yet I respect you too much to treat you like them, and I love you too much to really let you go. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do anymore.

“Then don’t,” You look at me with calm eyes. “Then don’t forget about me. It’s better to remember, but to keep it somewhere just out of reach. It’s not like I could forget you, Joe. You were a part of my life,” You admit. “No matter how bad, you can’t forget something like that.”

And that’s all you need to say. No goodbye, no farewell greeting. You turn and walk away.

And I let you, Y/N.

For the first time in my life, I watch someone walk away from me, and that’s it. Out of everyone, I hate that it’s you leaving yet I’m happy that we ended it like this. I watch your wrist swing slightly as you walk, the stringy ends of the bracelet swinging along with it. I think of what you said, about remembering, and I know there’s some truth there. I’ve felt it before, the need to remember Candace and Beck long after I had thought they were gone. For them -- and for me.

But as you turned the corner for the final time, something in me pulls at my senses, telling me what I already know is true. Your words ring in my mind one final time, but I know you’re wrong this once.

Sometimes, Y/N, it’s better not to remember, but to forget.

676 notes · View notes

dalamjisung · 4 years ago

Text

team wang ❃ jackson wang

word count: 1899

genre: slice of life, fluff, team wang!jackson

member: jackson x reader

description: this is it– all he’s ever wanted: jackson is his own boss now. Team Wang will now have his undivided attention and, well, you couldn’t be prouder. You’ve always been Team Wang, anyways.

“Delivery,” A voice calls through the building’s intercom, and you try to remember of any recent purchase made from Amazon, but you just can’t.

“Whom for?” You ask, and if Jackson was here, he’d be proud. He always told you to be more aware of security, considering the amount of ill intent directed towards public figures like him. You’d always roll your eyes whenever he lectured you about opening the door for the food delivery man without asking for an identification from the other person, but you’d let it go whenever he hugged you and mumbled in your ear, I just want you to be safe.

“Uh… Jackson Wang?” The man responds. “From Team Wang…?”

The uncertainty in the man’s voice is enough to make you frown, but you tell him to wait downstairs, that you’ll go get the parcels yourself. Putting your shoes on, you go down, passing through Mr. Min, the building’s security guard.

“Can you sign here, ma’am?” The delivery man asks, giving you an electronic pad. You do as instructed and he starts giving you the many boxes piled behind him.

“Wait… is that all for Jackson Wang?” You gasp, looking behind to wave the security guard over. “I might need some help, if you don’t mind.”

“Not at all, Ms. Y/L/N,” Mr. Min smiles and both of you work on taking all twelve large boxes to your apartment. After you’re done, you send him back to his post with a ‘thank you’ sandwich and cup of coffee; he’s always been incredibly helpful and kind to you, during the years that you and Jackson had been together, and you can’t help but see Mr. Min as a friend. He’s seen you at your best and at your worst, and if not for his comforting words, sometimes you don’t know what would’ve happened to you after a fight with Jackson, or after a particular hard day at work. He’s always spared you a few words of wisdom, a few moments of hope, and he’s never let you walk out the door with unresolved issues.

“Ah, Seun-ie,” You tut under your breath, looking at the three piles of boxes. “Why did–“

“I’m home!” His melodic voice echoes in the apartment and you chuckle at his clear excitement. “Is it here? Did it arrive? Y/N, did something arrive for me today?”

“Uh,” You turn around to face your fiancee. “I’d say so, yes.”

His eyes shine with contained happiness and he drops his bag by the entrance, running to the many boxes to inspect all of them.

“Babe can you get me a knife?”

You roll your eyes, walking to the kitchen and coming back with scissors instead. You didn’t want him to get lost in his packages and end up hurting himself.

“Here you go, babe,” You help him move the boxes to the living room, where together you cut through all the cardboard. As you two work, he tells you about his day at the studio, about the songs he’s producing, about all the content he’s posting on social media– and you soak it all in, loving the way he rambles on and on about all that he did, all that he couldn’t do before. Because of the restrictions of his old agency, Jackson always talked about all the things he wanted to do, but rarely ever about the things he did. It’s been a week now, and ever since their last performance under their past contract, Jackson’s been much more open to trying out all of the things he talked about before. I’m my own boss now, baby, he’d giggle at random time. I can do what I want.

“Jacks,” You call, looking at him while resting your chin on your hand, a small side adorning your face.

“Yes, my love?” He looks at you from behind a large box, eyes wide and round.

“I’m proud of you,” You tell him, and he blushes. “Really proud of you.”

“Thanks, Y/N,” He mutters, looking down at the deliveries. “It means a lot coming form you…”

“Well, then you should believe it,” You get up and kiss his cheek on the way back to the kitchen, making some coffee for both of you. “Want milk or not?”

“No, thank you!”

Routine feels like this– this normalcy that you sense from having Jackson in the living room, humming random tunes that are bound to become singles, while you make some coffee; the same normalcy you felt this morning, when he woke you up with breakfast in bed, and the same normalcy you’ll feel tonight, when you both scroll through twitter together, like you’ve done most nights, enjoying the fact that now Bambam has nothing better to do than roast people publicly.

“Y/N, love, come here!”

“Just a second!” You put his coffee in his favorite lime green mug, and, taking your own mug, you waddle back to the living room. “Yes, honey?”

According to the other guys, you and Jackson had always been the most lovey-dovey couple, abusing pet names like there is no tomorrow, but you to always laugh it off, enjoying the little world you create every time he calls you a different lovely nickname.

“Can you try this on for me?” He holds a black velvet puffer jacket and throws it to you. “It’s a size up than your usual, but I think you’ll look fire with an oversized one.”

His enthusiasm is palpable and when you take off your hoodie to try on the jacket, you hear him giggling.

“Are you filming me?” You question once you notice the phone in his hands.

“Of course I’m filming you,” Jackson scoffs as if you had asked the most obvious question in the world. “You look hot wearing Team Wang design.”

You only realize you are wearing Team Wang from head to toe once he points out; you have one of their sweatpants that you hastily put on this morning to finish some work due in the afternoon, and underneath the hoodie, also belonging to your beloved’s company, you had one of their white t-shirts.

“Oh my god,” You gasp. “I feel so expensive.”

“Wha–“

“I could never afford this,” You mumble under your breath, laughing at his reaction.

“Just try the jacket on,” He grumbles, and when you finally do what he says, the excitement is back. Jackson gets into business mode and soon you are being prepped for a photoshoot by your fiancee. He positions you near the window, and, using the sunlight in his favor, gives you one of the new collection’s cap. Now you truly are Team Wang from head to toe, and he snaps picture after picture, directing you to the best of his abilities. You laugh at the faces he makes, and you enjoy the attention, still not being used to receiving so much of Jackson for so long. Usually, he’d been whisked away already, something about a schedule to follow through. But now, as he showers you with compliments, feeling proud of his work, you feel like he is truly happy.

“Let me see, let me see,” You say after he’s done, jumping where he is sitting on the couch looking through the many photos he took. “You’re not going to post that, right?”

His head snaps up at you, and he is quick to put his phone aside and pull you to sit on his lap.

“Why not?” He questions, looking deeply into your eyes. “They came out amazing, baby!”

“Jackson,” You chuckle, loving his playfulness. “You can hire the best models out there to promote and display your creation if you want… you are not posting a picture of me as a model.”

“But you are a model,” He raises the phone for you to see the album he already created for the shoot. “My model.”

“Jackson–“

“No, I think you don’t understand,” He chuckles a bit, looking down at where one of his hands hold one of yours. He is blushing, and you caress his face with the other hand. “You’ve been my model for a long while now, Y/N. On many different aspects of life. The way you think, the way you speak, the way you act– It’s always been a huge influence for me; always pushing me to be a better version of myself. I love you, yes, but more than that, I admire you. You’re my idol, baby.”

You don’t know how to express yourself in words– you think there might be none, as you kiss him senseless. With a permanent smile, you kiss him, the man of your dreams and the man of your reality. The one that always tried to fix everything, even if there is nothing to fix; the man that works so hard to provide only the best for himself and those around him; the man that promised to love you forever. You kiss him the only way you see possible. You kiss him with all you have. Love. Passion. Admiration. It’s all a mess of emotions that you can hope get through to him. He pulls away first, pecking your lips slowly and firmly, and then snuggles into you, pulling you down to lay on the couch, and you almost laugh at how comic you two must look, surrounded by boxes.

You can’t help but notice six boxes left unopened.

“Jacks,” You poke his cheek and he hums. “What’s in those boxes?”

He raises his head to look where you are pointing.

“Ah,” He smiles and wiggles his brows. “Those are special treats for the guys. I always sent them previews, ever since I started Team Wang… I don’t see why not keep tradition. I also added some things for their girls, now that they can publicly wear them.”

“That’s really nice of you, my love,” You smile at him, hugging him tighter. “I’m sure they’ll love it. They always comment on it whenever I wear Team Wang.”

“Do you think they’ll like it?” He suddenly asks, a bit nervous. “I designed the bucket hat thinking of Jaebeom hyung, and I think Bam will really enjoy the velvet vest but–“

You shut him up with a kiss, straddling his waist. When you pull away, you can see the anxiety in his face; with Jackson, it’s always in the eyes– all his fears, all his accomplishments, all his feelings. You can read him like a book and you think it’s adorable how much he still dories about his group’s– his family’s– opinion of his endeavors, even though he proved himself again and again that no matter what, GOT7 will always walk beside him, supporting him during everything.

“I think they will absolutely love it,” You scoff, hands holding his face in place to look straight into his surprised eyes. “You know they’ll absolutely love it.”

He nods.

“And do you know why?”

He nods once again.

“Why?” You ask, wanting to hear if from his mouth.

“Because they love me,” He smiles, hands moving up and down on your thighs. “And because I love them, too.”

“And?”

“And because they’re proud of me,” Jackson’s voice grows stronger and more confident with each word that leaves his mouth. “And because I’m proud of me.”

“That’s right, baby,” You soften at his wide smile. “We’re all proud of you. We’re all Team Wang.”

-----------------------------------------

Well... we really are all Team Wang ;) What do you think of this one, my lovelies? I can just imagine Jackson with his cute smile, getting hyped up. If you liked this story, please please please share, comment, like, or anything you feel comfortable doing ❤️ thank you for your endless support, lovelies💕

110 notes · View notes

lucy-sky · 3 years ago

Text

So, darlings. I wanted to talk about Small Engine Repair (2021) and I don’t want to avoid spoilers, so I’ll do it under the cut. There’s a smaller and spoiler-free review on my letterboxd (y’all are very welcome to follow me there btw!)

The movie is pretty wild and I realize it’s not for everyone, but I actually loved it a lot! As I already said, the more I think of it, the more I like it somehow :) So yeah, if anyone wants to talk to me about this film - please do :)

Warning: I apologise for any possible mistakes/typos. It’s not an adequate review, it’s basically just a mess stream of consciousness :’DD

I was excited about this movie mostly because of... My men, of course :’) Well, I’m not ashamed because let’s be fair - we all watch movies for our actor crushes. I got interested in it since the first teasers, because Jon Bernthal looked amazing *_* And then Shea Whigham crush happened, so can you imagine my excitement?? To say I’m not disappointed is to say nothing at all, I’m absolutely delighted to see these two as besties :)))) I mean yeah, all the three characters are besties, but the chemistry between Bernthal and Whigham is just *chef’s kiss*. So, even if the movie wasn’t great I would still enjoy it in a way because of them.

But the plot seemed intriguing too. Remember the trailer? It started with just old friends having a good time, and then the tone suddenly changes and you realize something really bad happened. To be completely honest, after the trailer I expected the film to be even darker than it turned out to be. I thought Frank was gonna kill someone, or already killed someone or who knows, maybe not all of the characters were gonna survive. I thought there might be some plot twist where a nice guy suddenly turns out to be evil or something like that... And you know what? Maybe some people would be disappointed that there’s no shocking twists like that, but as for me - I’m glad the film is the way it is. That the characters are managed to stay human. That they didn’t kill anyone. That the story ends on such a touching note. Yeah, I might be sentimental, so what?

Small Engine Repair is such a wierd mixture of a dark (like REALLY dark), yet absolutely hilarious comedy (damn, this whole revenge thing made laugh so hard I teared up, because asfdafafafg %))) Packie’s dick being the most photogenic - I died x’DDD Surely Swaino is an expert here xDDD This whole scene was so explicit, but SO hilarious, every line and every second of it - brilliant!), a serious drama, and just a very endearing, touching movie about friendship. I can’t believe how it manages to be both dark and touching at once, but surprisingly it WORKS! The fact that you can see Jon’s doggos and his daughter in the film makes it even more personal, gives it more warmth. Yes, you may say the plot twists are predictable. When Chad Walker appears, we already understand it’s somehow connected with Crystal. And when he tells that story, I also low key realized it’s about her. So maybe it all wasn’t surprising enough, but it doesn’t really matter, at least to me. This movie and these characters - they’ve got heart and soul, despite the dark/dirty jokes and countless f-words during the movie. Of course none of them is flawless. I’d say all of them are quite problematic, but somewhere deep inside they’re nice guys. And yes, they really are a family.

I love the way the characters are written. Yes, especially Swaino and Packie. Love those little details about them, like Swaino’s sisters :)) idk, to me Jon’s character is like a huge teddy bear, and he’s incredibly charismatic in this one, even if he doesn’t know how to instagram xDDD Packie is cool too, looks like he’s just a dumbass, but at the same time he’s smart and even helped Crystal with her essays :)) Shea’s filmography is really impressive, but Packie somehow feels different from all his characters, and is possibly the funniest (I think only Eugene from Wristcutters can compete). I’m glad my man had quite a lot of screen time here, he even gets to narrate a childhood story and I absolutely loved it :))) oh and someone really should make Whigham start an instagram account after this movie, I insist! xDDDD

Actually the topic of social media and privacy is really important these days. For example, not so long ago Lainey Molnar (you probably saw her illustrations) posted in her instagram stories about her nail artist who had a bachelorette party and was challenged to give her phone number to a random guy. As she was a bit drunk it didn’t occur to her to give him a fake number, and the dude literally posted her pic and number online saying she wants to get laid. So yeah, shit like that happens all the goddamn time in our age of social media, and that’s why it should be talked about. It’s also disgusting that for some dudes like Chad Walker all this is just fun and games, they easily get away with this and live their life like there’s nothing wrong while someone’s life is completely ruined. In a way Small Engine Repair made me think of Promising Young Woman, if you get what I mean.

So yeah - serious drama and hilarious comedy work together surprisingly well and the film manages to be surprisingly heartwarming until the end. At times it’s as cozy as those warm knitted clothes Swaino and Packie are wearing. I hope Crystal is gonna be alright in the end and they will just get through it together! And one day they’ll gonna hang out together again: Frank, Swaino, Packie, Crystal, and Karen too, eat steaks and make silly photos (no nashville filter!) Ugh, did I tell you I’m sentimental?..

Anyways, conclusion. I liked Small Engine Repair way more than I expected!

I think this is all I wanted to say, yep.

#thoughts #small engine repair #shea whigham #jon bernthal #nevermind #keep scrolling

12 notes · View notes

sope-and-shine · 4 years ago

Text

Lost and Found

-> Namjoon x Reader -> Soulmate!AU // Fluff -> 6.2k (This fic was at 6,199 before post, and I couldn’t let that happen) -> Summary: In a world full of soulmates and soul marks, you just had to get stuck with the dynamic duo. -> Warning(s): none // maybe just fluff

A/N: I suggested the name to Belle as I was drafting the post, and she said she’d sue me if I didn’t use it.

ALSO! A BIG BIG BIG THANK YOU TO BOTH @multycoloredtaco and @purpletigertaetae for reading this and giving me some really good feedback! I love you both SO MUCH!

* * *

Soulmates have always come in several different shapes and sizes. They’ve always appeared to each other in various ways. Your mother and father met by their own personal song that only the two knew of, one that played when they spared a thought to the other. Your aunt had found your uncle with a timer on her wrist, and your grandpa had the unfortunate fate of meeting your grandmother while catcalling her. According to him, it was a very eventful day, but at least her words to him finally made sense. Everyone in your family - besides your great aunt who hasn’t aged since the late 1890s - has had the amazing luck of finding their soulmate. Not everyone gets the luxury of being with their soulmate how they planned to. You’re actually friends with a shop owner who lost his soulmate about a year ago and hasn’t seen any color since. You honestly couldn’t imagine the pain he’s been through. Thankfully, your soulmate mark was not as painful.

It was just extremely annoying.

As a child, you never questioned the items that would appear in your room, thinking of them as odd gifts that your parents or your brother would leave for you. You were no stranger to finding a single sock under your bed, the occasional candy bar tucked away in your backpack, or the odd action figure that you would take to your brother thinking it was his. It wasn’t until the first homework assignment with ‘Kim Namjoon’ scrawled at the top that you began to think something wasn’t right. And that was only the beginning of what was to come.

As the years went by, more and more random items began appearing in your room at your parents house, your dorm in college, and finally your very own apartment. Each item you placed in boxes under your bed as a way to keep a piece of him with you until you could find him. However, you never imagined how forgetful and chaotic your soulmate could really be. You have everything! Clothing items, more homework assignments, various books, glasses, baby photos, and you even have a random girl’s phone number! You were tempted to call her when you first found it, but you figured that would be too weird. Instead, you continued to organize everything under your bed in hopes of giving it all back to him when you would finally meet.

Of course, you were a victim to your soulmate mark as well. Many jewelry items had disappeared from your room without a trace as a result. Hoodies, stuffed animals, and even a bra that you could’ve sworn you put in your gym bag - part of you hoped he’d hide it away because not only was it a cute bra, it was also expensive. Recently though, you’ve both been a lot more responsible. You haven’t seen any new items appear in your apartment for almost a month, and with your soulmates track record of losing 11 items in one day, a month was a huge record on his part. But you were starting to miss the gifts that would give you clues to him.

After you found out what your soulmate mark really was, you started looking forward to what would be left in your room next. Of course, it wasn’t always a win on your part, and sometimes what he lost was very questionable, but it always made you laugh when another item appeared in your room. At first, it was weird to think about someone else’s stuff appearing in your room with no prior warning, but it made you feel special to know that he was ultimately giving you pieces of himself every time he let something out of his sight. They made your long days more bearable. It makes you wonder if he’s the type of person to shower you with gifts when you feel upset or just to show his affection when he felt it was necessary. Especially on a rough day like today.

There was nothing wrong with your job, you loved everything about it! Life as a lead optician was actually a very rewarding job in the end. Helping others choose the best glasses for their face and individual personalities was one of your favorite parts, you loved watching little old ladies try on vibrant, colorful frames to feel youthful. They’re always very excited to see clearly again. Then there are all the little kids who would sit down with you to get glasses for the first time, and the look on their faces when they finally got to see the world clearly was heartwarming. Their soft smiles and wide eyes filled with amazement always made you feel a little softer inside. However, not everyday was a good day, and today was really not a good day.

Everything was going perfectly fine until the 3:30 appointment showed up at 5:00 after the doctor had already left for the day and demanded to be seen. The doctor’s technician was so scared trying to explain to the patient that they’d have to reschedule their appointment, and the poor thing was just trying not to cry over the one person who couldn’t understand how society works. Obviously, as the lead optician on duty you took over, but this patient was one of the most inconsiderate people you’d ever had to deal with. Demanding to be seen, demanding to buy glasses with an old prescription, demanding to speak to a manager - which at this point was actually you, so done and done - and just cursing up a storm at you and your fellow coworkers who all tried to help explain. The whole ordeal just took way longer than it ever should have to deal with, and it probably took at least 25 years off of your life.

“Why do people feel that they need to be rude to get what they want?” Soohyun had asked you, “Do they think it’ll just magically fix everything?”

You had agreed, “It’s like they think you’re really just messing with them. Like, “Oh no, sir! You’re correct! I apologize for the inconvenience, let me pull that out of my ass for you!” Though maybe not appropriate for the work environment, you’d at least made her day just a little better with your humor.

On days like today, a nice warm shower and a cuddle pile with all of the pillows and plushies that cover your bed made everything much better when nothing new appeared in your room. If the odd gifts the universe left from your soulmate couldn’t cheer you up, then you’d do it yourself. And that you did. Nothing felt better than the warm water washing away the day’s pain and suffering, the delicate fragrance of the coconut shampoo you splurged on easing your worries down the drain. The floral body lotion and leave-in-conditioner you’d bought on the same shopping excursion also help your body relax, their scents so intoxicating to you, that you almost topple over onto the tiled floor of your bathroom from the instant pleasure they pull from you. Instead, you make your way to your bed, adorned in your comfiest PJs and fluffiest socks.

However, you weren’t expecting to land on something so hard and uncomfortable when you plopped face first onto your sheets.

“What the heck?” Pushing yourself onto your knees and pulling back the covers, you find a small, golden trophy resting comfortably in the warmth of your sheets. On all sides it reads, ‘MNET Asian Music Awards’ with a small plaque reading, ‘2017 MNET Asian Music Awards: Artist of the Year’ at the bottom of one side. It takes you a moment to understand fully what you hold in your hands before it actually hits you.

Your soulmate is an idol.

A forgetful idol if he lost such an important award, but at least this gave you a lead as to who your soulmate is besides one of the most common surnames and a few measly pairs of mismatched socks.

Setting the award to the side, you grab your phone from your nightstand and unlock it, clicking on your browser and typing away. You look up the artist of the year from 2017 and find the top result to be a boy band called BTS. According to Google’s nice little summary and AllKPOP’s top article, they seemed to be pretty famous. Of course, you’ve heard of them before, and if you heard one of their songs then there was a good chance you’d probably recognize it! But you’ve never really been one for boy bands. You were more into kdramas if you were to be completely honest, they’re definitely your guilty pleasure and way more your speed than handsome young men dancing on stage in front of screaming girls trying to get in their pants. Could you really blame them? No. Not at all. Given the chance, you’d take it, but it wouldn’t be anything special if it wasn’t your soulmate.

Your soulmate.

Namjoon.

Changing your question, you search for ‘Kim Namjoon BTS’. If he actually pops up, then that would mean you actually know who he is.

Finding the nerve to press search, you are bombarded with three pictures above a description of him right off the bat - You hate to admit it, but soulmate or not, he’s definitely handsome. You click on a random site you hope will give you some useful information about the man who’s most likely your soulmate and are immediately redirected to something called K-Profiles. The site itself starts off with a group picture of all the members, followed by their names below it, and their social media handles under that. You’d have to look them up later.

The first member you come across is your soulmate himself. He has his blonde head resting on top of his arms with a soft, dimpled smile as he stares right back at the camera. Eyes locked onto his through the screen, you can feel your heart speeding up just from looking at him. You can’t help but smile back at him as if he can actually see you. As if he were right there ready to come out and say ‘hi’.

He’s absolutely breathtaking, and it isn’t even him.

You continue your hunting, scrolling further down to learn as much as you can about him. How old he is, when he was born, where he was born, what his favorite color is, you want to know it all! You learn that he’s the leader of the group, that he used to be known as Rap Monster before he changed it - that USB in the box under your bed made a lot more sense now. You learn that he has a sister, and that he and his band members are advocates for UNICEF, and that this man was so incredibly intelligent yet also known as the ‘god of destruction’ to those around him. But also listed on his profile is his soulmate mark.

“As said in a V-Live where RM explained a stuffed animal he kept on his desk, anything RM loses will appear with his soulmate and vice-versa. He has yet to meet his soulmate.” You read. You’ve lost quite a few stuffed animals to Namjoon, hopefully, it wasn’t an embarrassing one that would haunt you later.

You come to the end of his profile and to the top of another handsome man, yet you don’t scroll down. You haven’t learned enough. You need to know more about him, about how you can meet him. You have to know more! And that’s how you find yourself still up at 5am the next morning still wide awake watching yet another video interview of your soulmate just to hear his voice. A part of you is embarrassed for staying awake all night for some guy, but another part of you can’t let it go when you’re so deep already.

* * *

You called into work after your late night-early morning escapade, telling them you caught something from one of your friends and wouldn’t be in for the next few days. There was no way you were going anywhere with the sleep you just got, and it wouldn’t be fixed in one day either. Even after sleeping the morning away you were still tired from your late night-early morning endeavor. It’s not like you really cared though, you had just found out who your soulmate was. And unlike a lot of other people in the world, you had an entire collection of videos dedicated to just your soulmate and his passion.

It didn’t take long for you to dig your nose back into the screen of your phone just to watch him make that gorgeous, dimpled smile. There were so many videos where he talked about you, sharing some of the items you had lost with his fans like they were his best friends. He looked so proud to be showing off your things, and the look in his eyes when he’d get lost in his own thoughts just looking at them made your heart melt.

You’d heard your mom and dad talk about how happy they were to have a special song just for the two of them. Your mom used to tell you all about the day your father tracked her all the way from the grocery store, pushing through the crowd like a love interest in a kdrama because he heard her humming their song to herself. At a young age you always thought it was sweet and wanted to meet your soulmate just like your mom had, but you eventually realized as you got older that a strange person following you home is not something you want. However, now you kinda wished it could work like that, seeing that your soulmate was practically untouchable.

Of all the people in the world, you just had to get stuck with a celebrity with millions of girls from all over the world fawning over him. Getting chased in the streets must be on this guy’s workout regimen by now! How were you supposed to get anywhere near him without spending over $1,000 just to look at his face?

“How much are those fan-meet things?” You ask yourself aloud. Innocent enough, but nothing could’ve prepared you for the entire process that came with going to just one fansign. This wasn’t something you could just buy a ticket for. No. You had specific steps that you had to follow or you wouldn’t even stand a chance. There were so many steps that you were tempted to just find his company and blast music until security came to take you away. Maybe you’d at least get to meet him when they filed a restraining order.

No. You HAD to meet him. You haven’t saved all of his lost things just for you to chicken out now.

So, you made a fancafe account and waited for their next promotion to purchase an album, you waited for the lottery winners to be announced, and you almost doubled over when you saw your name on the list from the store. You thought 3 months was long enough, but the 24 hours before the event were the longest hours of your life. So long that you couldn’t even sleep!

That’s where the wrench comes in.

You hadn’t meant to stay up so late at all, but you were really excited to finally meet the man that’s been losing everything he touches - especially now that he’s started losing air pods under your bed. So, when you woke up at 10:30am for the fansign that started at 11, you knew you’d messed up.

You messed up bad.

Of all the irresponsible things you could’ve done, staying up late was not the one you should’ve chosen to do. Now, you’d have to wait even longer to see him. Maybe the universe was right to give you both the worst soulmate mark known to man.

It wasn’t like waiting for the next fansign was bad, but it wasn’t the best either. Everyday that passed was another day that you had to watch him through a screen. Seeing his dimpled cheeks smile at the camera - at you - making your heart race. He was so close to you, but he was so out of reach. When the next fansign did come around, you had to make sure you made it on time so you could see it in person for yourself.

That’s what you told yourself.

To your credit, you almost did do that! But you had no idea there would be so much traffic. Not only that, but you’d tripped and dropped the box of things to return to him on the street and had to pick it up before anyone saw what it was you were holding. Because of those small issues, you made it to the venue five minutes after they had closed the doors.

“Please, I’m only five minutes late!” You beg, breathing heavy and labored. You stare at the worker just doing her job with high hopes that she would have some sort of empathy for you, but her face showed no remorse.

“If you wanted to be let in, then you should have been on time.” She scolds, closing the doors on you and leaving you outside to wallow in self pity once more.

At least the first time you’d messed up you were in the comfort of your own home where you could cry over your failure. Now, you were left in the open for everyone to see your mistake. You were so close too. He was just behind the doors. Waiting to see the adoring faces of his fans that you should be a part of.

Yet you’re on the streets.

* * *

“Don’t you think you’re going a little overboard?”

“What makes you say that?” You turn to your friend from your seat on the ground outside of the shop you’d purchased your album from, dressed in a light hoodie with a coffee in your hand. The light of day just peaking through the cracks between the buildings as the street lamps turn off for a new day.

At this point in your journey to meet your soulmate, you weren’t going to take any more chances. The store didn’t open for another 3 hours, and the event started an hour and a half after that, but you were going to be sure you had your ticket and made it to the venue on time. You didn’t care how early you were, you were going to see Namjoon if it was the last thing you did.

The poor, tired woman seemed to pick up on your indifference to your change in behavior and sighs, “Nothing in particular. I’m just concerned that maybe you’re taking this to the extreme now.”

“I’ve tried and failed three times already, Bomi. I cannot miss another chance to meet them!” You explain, taking a sip from your warm cup.

“Maybe the universe is trying to tell you that they’re just a boy band and you shouldn’t get so excited over them. They all have soulmates anyways.” Of course she didn’t know that you were going because one of them was your soulmate, but you couldn’t risk anyone finding out and telling your soulmate before you could tell him.

“I know that, but it’s worth it!” All the hours you’d spent waiting, watching their new content, reading their tweets and various posts from other social media wishing you could see him in person for just a moment. This was the fourth attempt, and you didn’t want to continue this cycle of hit and miss. “I’m not missing it this time.”

“Well, waiting outside of this shop so early just to get a ticket that’s already yours is absurd!”

“You didn’t have to come with me.” You grumble. It wasn’t like you didn’t know that. You were very much aware of the fact that it was insane. It was something you thought about every time you failed to make it into the venue! Having her reiterate what you already knew did not make it any easier.

However, your acquaintance wasn’t having your response, “I did. You blackmailed me into coming with you so you’d actually do it right, remember?”

The vague memory of sending her an embarrassing picture you had as a way to convince her to come flashes through your mind. So maybe your methods were unconventional, but they worked. “That’s not important!”

You both continue to wait by the store’s entrance, making light conversation as more people begin to show up for their own tickets. Of course, you knew they’d be here, that’s why you left extra early to be there first. It was a good thing you did too, because as the time ticked on and the line grew longer, it became obvious a lot of fans had purchased their albums from the same store you had. Even as the store owner arrived to start their day, not at all surprised by the line that had formed for them, there were still fans lining up for their tickets.

But in the end, you were first to arrive and receive your ticket, and that made you one of the first to the venue.

“Alright, we made it. This is where I leave you.” Bomi hikes her bag further onto her shoulder and turns to face you one last time before she leaves, “Don’t make a fool of yourself in there. And do not show them your airpod collection!”

‘Oh, I’m returning the airpod collection…’ You think to yourself, sending a quick wave goodbye to her.

Waiting for the doors to the venue to open didn’t take as long as you’d thought it would - security check taking even less time. You found your seat pretty easily as well, being placed on the left side of the empty table in the middle of the sea of chairs. Taking the time you have while everyone finds their seats, you take a peek inside of the box you’d brought to grab your album and just look at everything you’d brought to begin their return to Namjoon. You made sure to bring every pair of air pods you had found - and hadn’t sold on eBbay - a few old homework assignments, USB’s, pictures he’d taken through his pre-debut, and the trophy he’d misplaced that lead to your discovery.

Hopefully his band members wouldn’t be too upset with him.

You’d learned a lot about each of them over the two years you’ve spent trying to meet with Namjoon. So many times you’d been tempted to put yourself on the fan page or DM them on Twitter, but you were too afraid of being drowned out by other ARMYs or one of the other boys blocking you before Namjoon could see. No doubt they each probably had hardships of their own trying dodge fans claiming to be their soulmate. Watching as they each come to the stage individually, you could see why anyone would lie to call them theirs. You couldn’t deny how handsome they all were - you’d be lying to yourself if you said you thought they weren’t handsome - but no one could compare to your Namjoon.

If you get the opportunity to meet his stylist, then you’re going to give her the biggest hug for making him look this amazing! It was just a plain white, button down shirt tucked into a black pair of dress pants, but the top two buttons of his shirt undone and the grey, satin suit jacket with the addition of black, square glasses and his brown hair neatly parted to the left make him look like a god - should they exist. He takes your breath away, even if you’ve seen every picture and fancam you were able to find. The universe really said, “this one deserves the best” and threw you the biggest catch out there. You could only hope he enjoyed the simple pair of jeans and pastel yellow sweater you’d thrown on for the occasion.

It takes a while before they begin the meet and greet part, the boys introducing themselves and asking questions, letting their fan sites take pictures before they turn their attention to the individual fans as they pass them. With every moment that passes by, every row you watch stand and enter the line to the stage, you become more and more nervous. Of course, you knew your soulmate was truly Namjoon, but you were still terrified to reveal that truth in front of everyone. You’d seen a few announcements regarding the boys and their soulmates, talking about how their respective soulmate would be treated like another one of the boys and would be protected by BigHit as soon as they were found. You knew you’d at least have his company behind you, but…

What about his fans?

You can’t help but fester in your own thoughts, letting them consume you even as you make your way into the line with your box. You try your best to muster up the courage you need, but the looming presence of the table getting closer and closer makes your breathing harder. All you need to do is remain calm. They were just people.

The people who’ve spent almost 7 years with your soulmate.

And your soulmate himself.

No biggie.

“Ma’am.” The voice of the staff keeping the line interrupts your internal panic, pulling you back to reality. He points to the table where an excited Taehyung smiles eagerly at you with an empty space in front of him. “You’re next.”

“Yes! Thank you.” Reeling from embarrassment, you quickly kneel down to the space in front of the table. You give a small bow and hand over your album to the boxy-smiled boy in front of you, your hands shaking from how nervous you are. All you had to do was make it through 5 more boys and you’d meet your soulmate.

5 more people....

...and you’d meet your soulmate.

A hand lands on top of your own, “There’s no need to be nervous!” Taehyung is bright and happy, calmly running a thumb over the back of your hand as he uses the other to sign your album. His eyes shift from you to the paper and back to you, “You’re doing great~”

You felt a little bad for probably ignoring him. He must’ve been trying to introduce himself when he’d noticed you’d spaced out yet again. Yet here he was, acting as though it wasn’t even that big of a deal. Of course, he still had about 50 more people or so to have a minute conversation with, but he genuinely seemed to care. It made you feel more confident.

“Thank you.” You say, a smile gracing your lips. You were still nervous, but at least now you felt calm and somewhat collected to at least make it through the other members. You move onto Yoongi, then to Jeongguk, to Jin, to Jimin, and then to Hoseok. Once again, you’re feeling a little guilty about the time you spend with him. It wasn’t like you weren’t excited to be in front of him, but your soulmate was less than 2 feet away from you looking like he walked out of a Vogue photo shoot with a happy little smile on his face. Hopefully, if all goes well you can apologize to him for being distracted.

The staff moves everyone along and your time finally comes. You bid Hoseok a quick thank you and goodbye and move yourself in front of Namjoon, his box tucked close to your body as a way to keep you grounded.

Namjoon takes your album from Hoseok before he turns his full attention to you, his dimples that you’d been obsessed with since you’d first seen them making an appearance. His dark brown eyes stare into your own, “Hi, what’s your name?”

You’re so entranced by the man in front of you that you almost don’t respond. You manage a quiet, “(Y/n)...” But you’re so stunned and breathless that you think about repeating it just to make sure he hears it.

“Really?” He asks. His eyes widen for just a moment, and you know he recognizes it from a homework assignment or a book you’d probably lost with your name in it. You watch his shoulders as they tense and then relax as if they’d never lifted in the first place. “I really like that name. It’s one of my favorites.”

You watch him turn to the album in front of him, looking for the page you’d like him to sign. Being in front of him now, you feel your confidence grow. You can’t help yourself, “Really? Is there a reason?”

“I’ve just always liked the name.” He says, looking up momentarily with a tight smile. He probably didn’t want to be too obvious about his soulmate - well, you - so fans wouldn’t go looking for you. That must be the one downside to the life of an idol. You watch him carefully, taking in the way he handles your album with care. You watch him flip through pages, his smile slipping for a confused frown. He looks at you, “You don’t have a question for me?”

You jump at the sudden realization that you hadn’t given him the box yet, “No! I do…” This was it. You look from him to the box you’ve clung onto for two years, “It’s inside the box.”

Carefully, you slide the box forward, feeling the nerves you’ve been feeling all day spring to life. He takes it from you with a grateful smile, probably expecting a bear or something you’d made yourself just for him. But judging by the look on his face, you can tell he wasn’t expecting to find the objects in front of him. His shocked face makes you chuckle.

“I’ve always wondered how one person can lose so many things. I understand homework and socks, the airpods, but an entire trophy, Namjoon? How do you lose a trophy?” You ask. You wait for an answer, but he looks as if he’s completely shut down. His jaw hangs open ever so slightly, and his eyes are wide in disbelief. You see a glisten in his eyes and your amusement turns to worry, “Are you okay?”

The leader turns to you, glistening eyes staring into your own. His mouth opens and closes and it looks like he’s trying to find the right words to say, “I-...I don-...oh my god, you’re actually here.”

You watch as the shine in his eyes turn to tears that slowly roll down his cheeks, his mouth struggling to decide if he wants to frown or smile. You’re more worried than anything, “Wah-! Don’t cry! Why are you crying?!” You reach for his hands that still rest on the sides of the box, mimicking what Taehyung had done for you when you first stepped up to the table. “Please don’t cry.”

“I can’t believe you’re here.” He says softly, his voice cracking ever so slightly. You’re still confused if he himself is happy or not, trying to make sense of why he’s crying when he just met you. You watch his eyes drift over you with an unclear expression. Was he happy? Was he sad? Were you supposed to be reacting the same way?

“You’re beautiful…” He says, teary eyes meeting your own.

“So are you.” You respond. It’s only after the words fall from your mouth that you realize what you said and you try to correct yourself, “Handsome! I meant to say you’re handsome! You’re very attractive in a very masculine way, but that’s not to say you don’t express femininity well when you choose to and you look good all the time and-” Amidst your struggle for the correct words, he’d begun to laugh at your own expense. Not how you imagined this meeting to go, you shrink back to your side of the table, “I’ll just stop talking.”

“No! Please, keep talking.” He begs, moving forward to come closer to you. He pulls on your hands that still connect across the table, squeezing to reassure you that he still wanted you to be near him. It felt so nice to have him hold your hands, so nice and comforting, that you must’ve missed the glistening in your own eyes, “Now you’re crying!”

Your hands pull from his to hide your face, “No I’m not, it’s just raining inside!”

As you try to wipe away your tears, you hear the voice of Jimin call over the speakers just off to the side of the table, “You’re not supposed to make the fans cry!”

“I didn’t mean to!” Namjoon defends. In all fairness, you did make him cry first, so this was probably fair.

Hoseok claps his hands together, his voice just subtly coming through the speakers as well, “This is so sweet! We’re all witnessing two soulmates meet for the first time!”

“It’s like a movie, but without the flower petals.” Taehyung adds, having a mic of his own on his side as well.

“Miss.” Another staff member appears next to you, only this time they’re offering a hand and a smile, “Could I have you come with me?”

You’re nervous at first, not sure if going with this staff member would be the best idea. However, the presence of Namjoon’s hand on your own once more draws your attention to his heartwarming smile, “It’s okay.”

You nod and stand, allowing the staff to lead you behind the table and into the hallway to a waiting area. They have you sit on the couch, assuring you that Namjoon and the others would be there to see you soon. This at least gave you a moment to collect your thoughts and come to the realization that you really just met your soulmate after so much hard work to get there. You’d thought plenty of times that you’d regret trying to meet him this way, but now you couldn’t be more elated that you actually got to speak to him and hold his hands. You made him cry - what were hopefully - tears of joy! Even as their manager sits down to make small talk with you while you wait for the end of the fanmeet, you can’t help but to feel as if you’re on cloud 9.

It’s not too long until you hear that the meeting has come to an end, making your heart rate speed up. Once again, you take a deep breath in and let it out, preparing yourself to face Namjoon again. Only when he does come in, you both just stare at one another. Him from the doorway with his members waiting behind him and you from your spot on the couch. You’d already met, you’d already held hands, but this...he was right there.

“Well, are you going to talk to her or just look at her?” Jin asks, a mischievous smirk gracing his features as he stares at the younger.

It would seem that the small jab at the leader was all he needed to push himself forward, legs moving swiftly across the room in long strides just so he can reach you. You stand, intending to meet him halfway, but he’s already pulling you into a much needed embrace before you even get the chance. His arms wrap over your shoulders, caging you close to his chest as he leans down to rest his head on your own. He smells so nice, and his embrace is so warm, they almost distract you from the wetness you feel on top of your head.

“Namjoon…?” You ask, worried you might make him cry more by asking.

The man himself pulls back, quickly moving to wipe his tears as if he hadn’t already cried in front of you already, “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I’m so emotional right now.”

“Don’t apologize. I think it’s cute.” You assure him. You look down, feeling a bit embarrassed yourself, “Much cuter than showing up to your fansign with a bunch of your things.”

“How long have you known?” He asks.

“2 long and painful years.” You sigh. Thinking back on everything you’ve done since discovering who and where he was, you can’t help but be thankful it worked out this time around, “I’ve tried coming to a fan sign 3 times before this.”

“Couldn’t win a ticket?” Jeongguk asks from the side, a bottle of water in his hands.

Your sheepish smile turns into a strained one, “Yeah...we’ll go with that.”

Yoongi seems to pick up on your change in attitude, “Don’t tell me…”

“No wonder the universe put them together, they’re a match made in heaven!” Jin laughs, the sound being much more entertaining in person. The other members of BTS continue to talk amongst themselves, discussing the scene before them as well as how exciting the day had been. But Namjoon, instead, focuses all of his attention on you.

“Please tell me you’re free for the rest of the day.”

For once, you were more than happy to use your holiday time, “I’m free for the rest of the weekend.”

“Good.” He says, giving you another look at his beautiful, dimpled smile.

“Good...”

* * *

“So, what’s in the box?”

380 notes · View notes