#if it was a corporation where i had to be interviewed by someone in a different city/state

[tuxedo-rabbit]

I'm having to apply for jobs for the first time in 5 years and things have changed a bit.

I got invited to a zoom interview.

I really hate the fact that I have to download some 3rd party software to do an interview. Why did we switch to this over in-person or even phone interviews?

I live in a house which 2 other people and our pets. Trying to find a quiet room that has a ~professional~ looking background space is a pain in the neck.

I know I sound like a curmudgeon but I still feel like this is a stupid change

[rottengurlz]

Did the full moon make everyone crazy or something this week I feel like I need to stare at a wall for an hour or 2 to heal myself

[howlinchickhowl]

\o/

[admirxation]

Delusional - Leon Kennedy

yandere!Leon Kennedy x afab!reader | 18+ mdni | oneshot

summary: the chief felt sympathy for you and let you have a job as a coffee girl, but along the way you start to do favours for your favourites in the department, only the label of the favourite brings unwanted attention from the new rookie.

warnings: DARK CONTENT, heavy smut 18+ mdni, dead dove do not eat, yandere, obsession, heavy smut fantasies, masturbation, stalking, watching porn, moments of misogynistic language, voyeurism (peeping tom), non-consensual picture taking, breaking in, thoughts of kidnapping, putting someone to sleep with chloroform, tit play, grinding, unprotected sex (p in v), non-con, and somno // please read the warnings carefully, and understand this fiction is made for 18+ only and if any of the warnings make you uncomfortable this fic is not for you; please remember this is just fiction where real people cannot get hurt, and no actions in this fic are condoned.

Stage one: noticing

Navigating the labyrinthine corridors of the job market proved to be an unexpected odyssey, a reality starkly different from the rose-tinted visions of post-college life. You harboured the naive notion that securing employment would be a mere formality, a recipe of time, persistence, and nothing more. However, the harsh truth unfolded before you, revealing a landscape that was desolate and unforgiving, where the promises within the market of ‘urgently hiring’ were nothing more than a lie that echoed hollowly against the deafening silence of unreturned emails and failed interviews where people couldn’t even be bothered to follow-up, just letting you wonder about your failure into obtaining your first real job. 

In your frustration, you confided in your father, lamenting the arduousness of the job hunt, how this pursuit was draining you and how unfair it was. You told him it wasn’t what it was like when he first entered it, how he was given the chance to climb the ladder, and you weren’t even given the sight of it—it was just starting to feel tedious.

His empathy was palpable as he sought avenues to alleviate your plight. Despite his respectable standing within the professional sphere, his efforts to secure a foothold in your proved futile search were met with the obstinate resistance of corporate bureaucracy and entrenched biases; when he asked his boss for a simple job, perhaps in the mail room, he was only met with: “If I allow your daughter, I’ll have a whole mailroom of incompetent daughters.” This was met with your father feeling disheartened, unable to fabricate a response, and not wanting to go against his boss’ boundaries.

Yet, amidst the encroaching despair, a glimmer of hope emerged from connections through the benevolence of an old friend, the chief of the Raccoon City Police Department. Your father had met him back in high school, and despite the distance over the years, there was an inextricable bond where favours were allowed to continue being asked. A lifeline materialised in the form of a humble role at the department, as you were designated as a simple ‘coffee girl’ to make the coffee runs for his workers and help clean up the area; it all worked in the chief’s favour anyway, with him needed workers to stop being distracted and continue with their designated cases. 

At first—when you started—everyone was curious as to who you were, wondering why the chief allowed a coffee girl when the department never had one; no one could think of any other department that allowed this; this practice was out of the ordinary as the usual practice was having someone nominated to take their turn and collect everyone’s order, but hey, they weren’t going to complain about having someone take care of them, people who were constantly nominated were even more thrilled about you working here. 

Before starting, you had some thoughts before going to bed that maybe no one would be friendly or accepting of you, but this was all proven wrong; as the months continued, you were welcomed, becoming a favourite with how you remembered everyone’s usual order, but you also had your favourites. Everyone was kind to you, but you still had your favourites; being your favourite meant you would always sneak an extra sweet treat for them; the way someone knew to expect being a favourite was if you asked them what their favourite treat was. This started with Jill Valentine, then rippled to a man called Chris Redfield; some people even went out of their way to be marked as your favourite, but for a good while, it was only to them two until after a month or so, you found another to be labelled as your favourite; the newest recruit in the department who was the newest target to be picked on, the ‘rookie’ everyone liked to make jokes about, Leon S. Kennedy. 

When you first met him, you noticed how reserved he was, how he stuttered in his speech and how shy his demeanour was; when he had a seat allocated for him, you wanted to be the first friendly face after a long time of being subjected to what the guys liked to call ‘harmless bullying’ a term they used to describe it as a state of teasing that ‘built character’, but all you could see was a group of guys that never grew up and stayed in the state that piqued in high school—you had encountered that all your life, and many others. You remembered tapping him on the shoulder and introducing yourself, waiting for him to fabricate his words to introduce himself to you; you told him you were the coffee girl around the department and gave him the times you would go out and get everyone what they wanted, giving him a piece of paper to put his order down. You remembered that shy, small smile as he wrote it down, thanking you for spending time with him. 

That was the first stage of him noticing you. 

Inescapably, he found himself ensnared by the genial ambience you provided, discerning the elegance of your smile and the picturesque framing of your countenance by your styled locks, reminiscent of an ethereal masterpiece. Yet, he refrained from delving deeper into such impressions, recognising that your amiable demeanour was intrinsic to your professional role. These cogitations united into a resolute acceptance as he seamlessly integrated himself into discussions concerning you, recognising such interactions he noticed were just the result of friendliness being a part of your job. With a nonchalant attitude of seeing the truth, he dimmed any personal inclinations, instead redirecting his focus to his duty as a law enforcement officer, immersing himself into the very reasons he chose this line of work when going through the academy. 

As the weeks drew on, your reasonings of favouring started to manifest; the reasons resulted in a mix of his manners and sympathy for Leon. You heard how people talked about him in the breakroom or the reactions to being partnered with him. The titling of ‘rookie’ always left a bad taste in your mouth when you were watching full-grown men bullying him like they were back in the walls of the school—how pathetic it was, you thought to yourself, but you could tell it was doing a number on Leon’s mentality. You were never given slack for being new; at the very most, some people called you ‘cute’ but not in a complimentary way, more to describe your lack of experience within the chief’s sympathy towards you. Still, you were never subjected to what Leon was to. You decided to do something small, to make him feel better, asking him the next time you gave him his usual what his favourite treat was—you were aware how odd this was to him, you could tell with his facial expression, but you knew it would make sense the next day. You could tell the others knew what was happening when you noticed people waiting for that question, just looking at Leon and wondering why him. He quickly answered that he was simple and loved raspberry and white chocolate muffins; you greeted his answer with a quick nod and scurried away to put it in your notebook, ready to give it to him the next day. 

When that day rolled along, you managed to collect everyone’s order and pick up the treats for Chris and Jill, later remembering the order you wanted to make for Leon; you looked at the glass dome surrounding the cakes and pointed to the one that you thought was perfect, hoping it would pick up his spirits, even if it were just a little bit. When it came to you walking back to the building and giving out everyone’s orders, you made sure Leon was left til last; you saw him look over to you with a tinge of sadness, perhaps thinking that he was forgotten, but after your little conversations with Chris and Jill you made your way over to Leon, being greeted with that shy smile that you couldn’t help but describe as cute. 

“Hey, I’m sorry I took a while to get to you; please don’t think I was ignoring you,” you reassured him as you placed the coffee in front of him. 

“It’s o-okay. I know you have loads of people to get to,” he wrapped his fingers around the warm cup, curiously watching as you remained a few moments longer around his desk and reached in your bag for something. 

“Oh, don’t be silly, I couldn’t forget you.”

Couldn't forget me? Leon thought.

“Remember that question I asked you yesterday… Well, I hope this answers why I asked it,” you handed over his favourite treat, watching as his eyes widened with happiness, and a dust of blush appeared on his cheeks. 

“T-Thank you so much… You didn’t have to go out of your way-” 

“It’s my treat,” you said, grazing your hand on his, “Consider it a thank you for being so kind to me.” 

He watched your lips curl and stretch into a warm and inviting smile—he couldn’t help but feel a connection from that smile. 

That was when it all changed. 

That was the day Leon felt connected to you, feeling a need to cling to the idea of you, thinking the more he clung to it, the more the fixation of connection would manifest into a physical connection, much more than just a graze on the hand, but physical intimacy—something he craved, and now only craved with you from now on. When you walked off, you didn’t notice how the blush intensified as he grazed his finger along the paper casing of the muffin you gave to him; one of the corners of Leon’s mouth turned up, his hand smoothed over the warm drink before lifting it to his lips, letting it glide down his throat, before clenching his jaw as he thought and looked to you across the room. 

Your name would be on his mind for a long time now. 

As he continued to watch you before going into the chief’s office, he made his way into the breakroom, ready to dispose of the paper casing surrounding your provided present; before putting it in the bin, he caught Chris' attention. 

“Oh, I see someone else has joined the club,” he laughed lightly, adding to Leon's confusion. 

“Club? I’m sorry, but I don’t know what you mean.” 

“You know the coffee girl, yes?” Leon nodded, "She has her favourites, and you know you’re a favourite if she asks you what your favourite snack is and gives it to you; so far, you're the third person; you must have been very kind to her.” 

Favourite. I am her favourite. He continued to think about being a favourite, a tinge of jealousy within his mind as he thought about being the ‘third’ favourite, but he was a favourite non the less, steps ahead of many of the guys in the department—and he loved that he was on your radar. 

Stage two: obsession. 

Leon always thought you looked pretty; he thought it was an objective fact that you were the most attractive girl in the precinct, but he never formed any true feelings about that. However, since that day, his behaviour and feelings towards you started to change; he couldn’t get the word 'favourite’ and the notion that he was your favourite out of his mind. He often thought that he wasn’t the only favourite, but he didn’t need to think of them; they weren’t a competition—the way Chris said it, it had a casual tone, not one of endearing description, granted whenever he heard you in the breakroom laughing with Chris, jealousy was often felt. However, he knew if Chris wanted you, he would have made a move already—but he was still one to watch. As more time drew, he constantly thought of you; no matter the time of day, you were fixed in his mind, a constant that would not change. 

As the weeks drew on, he started to notice you more, noticing everything about you with just the simple act of watching; it wasn’t hard to collect this information, especially with how you were a creature of habit, a person who worked with continuous routine—a huge mistake from you. He knew the times you would go off for your coffee runs from the paper you gave him; he knew the order you would go around the room and how you left Leon for last and always had a longer conversation with him. He also noted when you would have your breaks and how long you would talk to Jill and Chris; he made sure to listen in to ensure Chris was never overstepping the boundary he placed ever since his obsession was created. He always felt a burning within his chest, a heavyweight hanging on his heart every time he heard you laugh from one of Chris’ jokes; he couldn’t help but curl his fists into a ball, feeling his head get warmer as the feeling of jealousy expanded further within him. 

Calm down, Leon; he would have already asked her if he wanted her. He constantly told himself to calm down and stop thinking of how close you two were together, remembering that Jill was in the middle of you two. If he wanted to be closer, he would spend time with just you—that thought comforted him.

Your small conversations lasted a little longer when you gave him his coffee and muffin. It was Friday, and the easy conversation was on its way. 

As you were about to turn around, you were greeted with an extended conversation with Leon, who asked, “Have you got anything plans for the weekend?” he fiddled with the paper casing as he tried to concentrate on the conversation you two were having. 

You were taken aback at this imposed question, not shocked at the content, but curious about how he started to take interest: “Oh, nothing much; I’m thinking of just chilling at home and relaxing a bit; what about you?” 

“Oh, I’m just working on some cases; see how much I can get done over the weekend.”

“Don’t overwork yourself; there’s a reason you have the time off.” 

She cares about my well being, Leon thought, your kind nature only adding to his obsession growing.

“I’ll see you around; I need to do something for the chief,” you went off, leaving Leon in a pool of his thoughts that never stop being around you. You were kind to everyone, but it felt different to him; you cared for him more with how your words were strung together. 

~~~~~

The weekend felt long; usually, Leon would enjoy the time off, using this time to be as lazy as possible and have a break from his other colleagues, but his weekends now consisted of longing and counting down the minutes until he went back to work until he could see you again and sneak a few minutes of conversation with you. He couldn’t help but think about what you were doing at your place; he wondered if you lived alone; he wished you lived alone as he fantasised about growing closer to you and spending time with you—if only he had the courage to initiate that. 

Leon thought about where you lived; he knew it wouldn’t be too far from the police station, and he was even thinking of getting some information through a series of questions. But he could tell you were a smart girl and wouldn’t give that information out by mistake. You seemed overly cautious, but not too cautious, as you had a few mistakes let slip—like your continuous routine, which was easy to plan around.

But right now, all he could think was the idea of having you, not just in a romantic way where you could be his person for as long as he needed you, but thinking of an intimacy he so long desired. 

He wasn’t exactly the rookie everyone described him as; he had a girlfriend before finishing the academy and joining the department. It wasn’t like he was oblivious to it all, but that ended a long time ago when the thought of her disappeared the moment she left his everyday life, and now you were the beautiful and endearing replacement that he couldn’t stop thinking about. 

He was confined in the same four walls he had lived in for years. He felt the urge to pull his laptop and fix up a website everyone had at least wondered about, even if it was out of curiosity or plain desperation; he hadn’t touched this website in a while, but thinking about you wasn’t enough, his imagination needed stimulation, and watching porn was the only way he could settle that yearning that was bubbling inside of him for a long time now. 

He slowly looked at the screen, looking at the most popular videos that were the most watched, but none of them was attracting him; he just wanted you, and everyone he looked at was just inferior to how he put the thought of you on a pedestal. So, he typed, looking through several pages, looking for girls that emulated your features, perhaps having similar hair colour or style, similar body type, and facial features; he kept scouring through the internet to find a video with someone that looked like you, of course, none of them even came close, leading him to have to settle. His mouse hovered over results that came close to what he needed before the window for settling decreased in chance with an overwhelming wave of uncontrollable desire wash over him, pressing against his pants as he continued to have you on his mind, the thought of you being the source of his mind and body running on adrenaline. 

As soon as he watched, he jerked his hands away from the keyboard, pushing the laptop further down as he unbuttoned his trousers, palming the imprint of his clothed cock for a moment, watching as the girl in the video—an inferior doppelganger—undressed slowly for the camera, teasing her viewers with the perfect execution of timing and a smile that just enticed you further; of course, Leon wasn’t enticed by her, he was only watching for the similarity she had to you, but she was a good enough vessel for his imagination to run rampant. 

He pulls out his cock, which is throbbing painfully, making him moan and whimper slightly as he wraps his calloused hand and lets it run along his prominent veins, smearing the dribbling of precum along his warm shaft, his cheeks flushing deep red as he continues to morph her face into the perfect imagination of you, imagining you opening your legs and biting your lip, running your fingers along your wet folds, imagining you begging and desperate eyes looking up to him to beg for his cock inside you—god he needed that more than ever right now. He was practically salivating, drooling as he watched the woman fit her fingers inside her wet cunt, continuously thinking about what you would look if he fit his cock inside your aching pussy; he just knew you would be a screamer. His cock continued to painfully throb as he pressed his fingers around his member, even harder with another squeeze, kicking his head back as he continued to think about how you would moan his name, thinking about what you would sound like; he imagined even further how much of a dirty girl you would be. She has an innocent facade, but I can bring it down, he continued to think as he was lost with an unbearable ache within his core, his heart racing as he leaned back and pumped his hand even harder, laying your name on his tongue. 

His eyes closed, listening to the woman’s moans in placement for yours, fantasising about what you would look like naked, wet and squirming just for him and only him, his fantasies becoming vivid as he thought about watching your tits bounce with every thrust inside you wet core, pounding his hard cock inside you repeatedly, wanting to just fill you up to the brim with his cum. 

That was it. That was the thought that sent him over the edge. The thought of making you his by pumping his hot seed inside you, fucking it further inside your cervix. His fingers were wrapped around his shaft tightly as he let out a whimper, a quiet ‘fuck’ with a release of your name like a blissful treat laced on his lips; his hips bucked as he refused to let that thought of you being his little cumslut be fixed in the lines of memories and fantasies—he needed to bridge the gap with you. 

After reaching a sweet release, he looked at the woman in the video, hearing her talking and her high-pitched voice, looking at her with disgust. “Shut up… annoying bitch,” he hissed in a curse, closing down the tabs. 

He couldn’t let this be in his imagination; Leon’s obsession would no longer live in his fantasies, and he needed to ask you out. 

This was routine with Leon; he always found himself in the same pathways, no matter how much he denied that part of himself. He always noticed a girl, then went to know them a little more, continuously thinking and then… asking them out and letting everything he wanted manifest into a reality of physical connection. That’s all he needed to do. He planned the next time he would see you would be when he asked you on a date, perhaps dinner at his place. All he needed to do was wait for you to say yes and let it continue from there—you would be the most perfect, his favourite girl he laid his eyes on and continued the repetitive journey with, perhaps be the last one with him now finding perfection. 

Stage three: rejection

In the dimly lit break room, Leon hesitated at the threshold, his heartbeat pounding against his ribs, his blood flow quickening through his veins with the tumult of his beating heart. Each breath felt laboured with anxiety, weighted with the burden of anticipation and trepidation. Adjusting his shirt—in a futile attempt to regain composure—Leon stepped himself for the task he provided himself the previous night: to summon the courage and ask you out, the enigmatic coffee girl he just couldn’t forget ever since he was exposed to your heart of gold. 

As the door creaked open, Leon was exposed to you, immersed in preparing your coffee; you were in your world before you heard the click of the door close. Leon’s breath hitched in his throat, beads of sweat drawing along his brow as he tried to maintain calm and remain at the task at hand, subtly, well to what he thought was subtle, he rubbed his hands on his trousers from them heating up in fear, trying not to become distracted from what he had set out to do.

Summoning his courage, Leon cleared his throat, the sound echoing unnaturally in the space: “Morning… Hey… Um,” he paused for a moment, ��The coffee girl making her coffee… heh,” he let out nervous laughter at a failed attempt at what he thought would come out as a joke… If you could call it that. 

“Um, yeah… I get my breaks like you lot,” you let out a sympathetic, breathy laugh, but Leon could see through it, knowing it was a sympathy laugh. Nonetheless, he was still warm inside, knowing you were trying to make him comfortable; your smile continued to beacon a feeling of reassurance that made Leon’s heart flutter within its beats. 

Embarking upon the precarious precipice of confession, Leon forged ahead, his words carefully fabricating into what he had rehearsed the night before: “So um, I’m glad to find you here… Alone… Since I- there’s something I want to ask you.. For a while now,” he rubbed the back of his neck as you raised an eyebrow out of interest. 

“Oh, do you want to change your regular order? I’m happy to do that for you,” you naively reached for your notebook. 

“No, no, that isn’t what I wanted to talk about,” he couldn’t help but find your naivety cute; how you were always ready to please was captivating to him; you continued to watch as he was trying to find the words. “So I’ve wanted to ask you this… For a while now…You’re a very kind and pretty girl, and I find… I find…I-I think about you often, wondering if you want to… Go out with me. You’re a really nice girl, and well, I’m a really nice guy; we already have that in common and, yeah, what do you think?” 

A flicker of confusion danced along your features, your brow furrowing into gentle bewilderment as he kept blabbing on; you watched how he rubbed the back of his neck, how he couldn’t keep up eye contact longer than a few seconds, and how his foot kept grazing along the wooden floor as he kept gently kicking it back and forth. “Oh,” you said as you tried to figure out what to say, tapping the ceramic layer of your cup as you tried to piece it all together. 

Oh… fucking oh, that’s all you got, Leon thought to himself. 

“Look, I think you’re lovely, but I’m not ready to go on dates; it’s only nearly been a year after finishing college; I’m not ready to start dating again.” 

Again? Who else has got their hands on her? Leon felt a sting of jealousy. 

Rejection pierced Leon’s hopes, feeling like the jagged rocks of reality came crumbling down on him; with a nod of resignation, he acquiesced to the painful truth. “I-I understand,” his fists were bawling up and his teeth grinding, “I’m sorry I asked,” he walked off slowly, hoping that you would stop him and tell him you changed your mind. 

But you didn’t. 

You had a boyfriend in college. Nothing serious happened with him, but you were close to that man; you even thought you loved him at one point until he betrayed you with another woman. You weren’t ready to start going out on dates, especially in a new job where you barely knew anyone. 

Just as you were planning to exit, your friends came through the door, noticing how shaken up you were. 

“Are you okay? you look like you just saw a ghost,” Jill said with concern, coming over to you and placing her hand on your shoulder for reassurance. 

“I-I had a weird encounter with… Leon.” 

“The rookie? what’s the little weirdo up to now?” Chris asked while folding his arms, coming closer to you so you wouldn’t have to raise your voice. 

“He… He asked me out.” 

Both of them widened their eyes, looking at one another and gesturing you to sit down; while the topic of asking someone out was an innocent one, you looked shaken up by Leon’s advances. 

“I was here making myself a coffee, and I think he was trying to make a joke. I don’t know; he wanted to ask me something. I thought maybe he wanted to change that coffee order because we all know it’s gross. Who orders that?” Chris cut you off your emerging tangent.

“Back to the topic, you said Leon asked you out?” 

“He said he had been thinking about me for a while and was saying that we’re both nice. He asked, and I rejected him, but… I don’t know; I feel weird. Was I leading him on? What’s it that muffin I gave him? I didn’t want to give that idea.” 

“Look, I’m not going to defend him, but-“ 

“Then don’t finish that sentence,” Jill cut Chris off, “Look… It was just a case of a man misreading friendless for attraction; it happens a lot; men are stupid,” Chris looked offended, “especially the one opposite me.” 

You both laughed. 

“I just… I just find that it’s delusional to start liking someone because they did their job. I gave him a muffin, nothing else,” you told them. 

“Giving muffins isn’t in your job; you do that extra. I’m not blaming you, but he might not be that used to women, and before you come back talking, we’ve all thought it; look at the guy,” Both you and Jill agreed, “Also, I did tell him you give muffins to favourites, to people you find kind, he must have taken it as favourite equals attraction. You’ve turned him down anyway. Just forget it happened; I’m sure he’ll forget about it.” 

But he didn’t. 

He was nestled in the corner, a blind spot for people in the break room, and heard every word. The moment you uttered “delusional”, it pricked a spike right into his chest, feeling like you just couldn’t help yourself but injure him and twist the blade for a bit of enjoyment; he curled his lips into a line as he heard Chris insult him, wondering what it would be like to drive him away from you, to hurt him back like he verbally hurt him. A darkened fog casted over his mind of clarity, putting him back in that dark space he worked hard to get himself out of. 

No, no, no, don’t think like that. You wouldn’t want to hurt Chris. You can’t be messy. It leaves tracks. Remember your ex… All you need to do is be persuasive. Leon’s internal monologue kept feeding his delusional nature. 

~~~~~

The next day approached, and Leon patiently awaited your coffee run. He watched the reflection of the glass and continued to look at you, hobbling into the building with numerous coffee orders, all with post-it notes and that brown bag for your favourites. He waited patiently, keeping his back turned to not make him seem too desperate as he awaited. 

Just as routine kept providing, you went around the room in exact order, starting from left to right, then sneaking a conversation with Chris and Jill, and then to him; Leon’s heart quickened in beat as he heard your deep breaths become clearer as you got closer to him, but to his surprise, all you did was plant his coffee and muffin in front of him—no greeting, no few sentenced conversation, not even the usual grace with care as you just basically threw his order in front of him like a waitress getting awful tips. There was a strange feeling within him, one of anger for ignoring him and one of sadness as you went straight to the chief’s office—you had never quickened your pace like that before. 

Probably just in a rush, chief overworking you, he thought as he let the scalding hot coffee pass through his throat, not wincing or reacting to its temperature as he kept replaying your distance in his mind, over and over again. He looked at the muffin you gave him, which was still his favourite, and it looked to be the best quality from that coffee shop with its raised top and good ratio of white chocolate and raspberry. As he analysed every aspect, he concluded that you still cared to treat him. 

She’s just teasing me. I can tell. She wants me to work for it. Of course, women don’t want to accept it, and it makes them look desperate; they love it when a man works for them; it’s only an act of chivalry that those women crave. Yes. Yes. If she didn’t care about you, she would have ignored you. She wants you. She does. Leon was trapped in his thoughts as he bit into the fluffy muffin, biting into a sour and sweet raspberry-rich quadrant that fueled his delusions even more. He watched the chief’s door intently, knowing that he just needed to be more persistent with you; the next time he saw you in the break room, you would say yes. Leon had it all planned in his mind. 

~~~~~

You were overly cautious now. You knew Leon didn’t do anything wrong, per say, but it made you uncomfortable; something about his demeanour threw you off. It wasn’t even the fact you weren’t attracted to him; you felt an unnerving aura on him. Your eyes darted around you before you entered the break room, watching the coffee machine and tapping your fingers on the counter, blinking every time a second went past and wanting time to hurry up. 

Come on, come on, come on, you kept saying like the machine would obey and go quicker. 

You heard footsteps linger around the room. 

Oh god, not now. 

Of course, who else would it be? Leon peered through the corner, watching you, already glued to the door, with an unwelcoming gaze piercing him. 

“Hey… Can I talk to you?” he was back in that shy demeanour again. 

“If you must,” you coldly replied. 

“I’m sorry if I came onto strong… I didn’t mean to creep you out; I’m just not used to this sort of thing,” your brow relaxed for a moment as you waited for a real apology, “but I do really like you and-“

“You don’t know me, Leon,” your arms were folded, knowing he would try his chances again. 

“I mean… We can get to know each other… that’s kinda what dating is about, yeah?” 

You rolled your eyes. 

Look at her, acting rude and nonchalant. It’s all part of her act, Leon. You’re just wearing her down, he continued to tell himself. 

“I’m going to say this once and only one more time, Leon,” you said, stepping closer to him. “I’m not interested. It has nothing to do with you. I’m not interested in dating anybody now; I’m just here to do my job for the remaining time. Please understand I’m not looking for anything at the moment. I’m flattered, but I don’t want this.” 

When you exited, your fleeting touch upon his shoulder sent shockwaves of longing coursing through Leon’s veins. In that fleeting moment, he entertained the notion that you liked the long game. Perhaps, just perhaps, your gesture or touch harboured a silent encouragement to persevere. 

Once you left and went out of sight, you left Leon with another bitter taste of rejection upon his lips. he designated himself to the harsh truth: some desires are destined to remain unrequited, lost in the labyrinth of unspoken longing and unfilled yearning. Yet, in the depths of his despair, a glimmer of resolve ignited within him—a need to persevere despite the spectre of rejection that loomed over your conversations. His heart had fervent whispers that hoped you would stop this chase and let it just happen. 

Leon’s darkened thoughts continued, standing still as he let those thoughts unfold; he wanted to keep trying to keep wearing you down, but he needed to satisfy a hunger to get it all out, to get his yearning and built-up frustrations out before he continued his chivalrous courting—a description he kept providing to make him feel better, in all reality anyone would just call this creepy. Still, Leon thought he was just playing the game. 

Stage four: stalking

His fingers kept tapping as he waited in his car, tapping on the steering wheel at night for you to come out of the building. 

You rejected him. Two times. But the second wasn’t the last, to Leon’s thought process; he was willing to play the long game with you, to wear you down; it wouldn’t take that long. However, there was one problem with all these build-up frustrations within him. He just wanted a taste. Just to see what you look like, but you weren’t so willing at the moment; no, you were holding back, and this led to darker thoughts bubbling and festering inside his mind, thoughts he needed to let out before it became overwhelming. He just wanted something to keep him going, to stop relying on bitches who couldn’t compare to you, to take his pictures, perhaps to let his motivations keep running. 

He wanted you. Just you. No other girl. 

His car was parked at the back, watching your car and waiting for you to enter. He saw you give one final wave and a comforting smile to a group of his colleagues—a smile only he wanted to be directed at him. You didn’t notice how he stared at you. The darkened atmosphere made it difficult to see anything that far, and as you stepped in, Leon started his engine, ready to follow you at a distance and find out where you dwelled. 

He followed the road, making sure not to get too close, watching you from the back window to make sure you weren’t looking back in suspicion; when you finally stopped at your destination, he made a loop around the corner to make it look like he was just taking a similar path and went on if you noticed his car. In all honesty, you did notice that car, but you couldn’t make out who was in there. but after he had driven past, your piqued anxiety levels went down, telling yourself that it was just some person taking a similar route, feeling silly for overthinking. 

After Leon had done his little tangent driving, he found a place right in front of the building, watching as the window lit up. 

That’s got to be hers. 

You always had your curtains open to get some sunlight in during the day at work. Still, your innocent affairs managed to make Leon’s job easier as he watched you from the distance of his car—he was parked in the perfect spot, a place you couldn’t see when looking down from the top floor, but somewhere that gave a clear view of what you were doing by the window. 

He watched as you unpacked everything, feeling emotional responses and inpatient anger when you strayed away from his sights.

Unknowingly, you started to undress, taking your blouse off and revealing your lacy bra; this was it; this was the moment Leon pulled his phone and pressed that button to take dozens and dozens of pictures of you, watching you stand in front of the window without a care in the world. Watching as your hand slithered to the back of your hooks, his eyes widening as he moved closer to the window of his car, ready to take pictures of your beautiful body, he felt his cock hardening against his trousers as he waited for you to expose yourself.

You winced as you unhooked your bra, feeling where the underwire pressed into your skin all day, exposing yourself to Leon as he zoomed his camera in to take pictures; he cursed at his phone for blurring and not taking better quality, wanting to see your bare chest. As he was practically salivating, your head darted to the window, recognising you had forgotten to draw the curtains, placing your blouse back under your arms before hurriedly covering Leon’s shot, looking around and thankful that no one was in the streets to see you—oh if only you knew. 

“Fuck,” he let out a low curse as his cock started to no longer press against his tight trousers watching your windows be nothing but a dark-covered void now.

But he wasn’t all that disappointed. He managed to get some decent pictures to settle him for a bit longer. 

~~~~~

He drove back to his apartment. To his glee, it wasn’t too far from his, perhaps a fifteen-minute drive from yours to his. He hurriedly fumbled with the keys of his place, kicking his shoes off and stripping naked in a matter of seconds as he lunged for his bed, wanting to indulge in those pictures before he lost his high. 

He lay on the soft covers, naked, looking at each photo of your unknowing face, how blissfully ignorant you were; he couldn’t help but smirk as he zoomed into your face of shock when you realised the curtains were open. 

“Such a tease. You wanted someone to notice you… You wanted me to notice you,” he whispered. 

He kept swiping and zooming into your bare chest, circling his thumb around your exposed nipples, wondering what it would be like to suck on them, to pinch them until you squirmed with delight, to press his cock in between your tits; all these thoughts continued to make him harder. Before you covered yourself up, the last photo was perfect; your hair was messy, forwardly in front of Leon’s view as he kept zooming in to look. He imagined a scenario where you were a complete whore for him. Imagining you looking down and pressing your hardened nipples against the window, perhaps leaving a kiss mark on the window while looking at him with those beautiful eyes and leaving a lipstick mark on the glass; that was it, that was the imagined scenario that got him going. His phone was leaving indents on his fingers from his tight grip; he could feel his balls tighten as a dribble of precum started to ooze out the tip, his fingers tightening their grip around his large and thick shaft as he followed the flow of his thick veins, smearing the precum along the direction of his hand pumping along his length. He bit his lip as he whimpered out your name, his core tightening as he continued to look at your unknowing face. He started to think what your face would look like if he pushed his hard cock inside your wet cunt; he could just tell you were a screamer, and he wanted to hear that pretty mouth scream out his name. He imagined how you would feel as your tight hole would wrap against him. 

He could barely breathe, and his breathing patterns became laboured, and his chest continued to rise and fall at a rapid pace, a groan released as he kept moaning your name. “Fuck I need you,” he moaned as his head was thrown back into the pillow, cum spurting all along his torso, slowly rubbing himself before letting go and being left to think about what his next course of action was. 

Stage five: possession. 

What was the point of asking you out again? Leon tricked himself into believing you set out a game for him to play, believing that you wanted him just to try a little harder for you; no matter how much distance you placed between him, he kept thinking you were just making the test harder—to him this was just another challenge he wasn’t going to put down. But this game, Leon forced himself to believe, was difficult; this game of yours would be over if he got fired; if he asked you out again, he knew you would go telling the chief, and every single person knew how much a soft spot the chief had for you. He hated how other people held that spot for you, hated how people noticed the good in you; that was something only he should notice; a burning rage within his chest flowered every time he thought about people experiencing the kindness only he wanted to experience and witness. 

He wasn’t going to lose interest until he got you. Hence, he felt drawn to execute his plan for a little treat. 

Leon needed to ease his frustrations and pent-up desires just to get a taste of you, to obtain further motivation to keep seeking you out, to keep wearing you down until you realised you were made for him. 

For the past week, Leon kept going to your place but could only snap pictures with you fully clothed; how boring, he thought every time he pointed the camera to your window and waited for another good shot like that first night. Every time he left without seeing more of your bare chest, he still smirked behind the screen every time he saw your unknowing face, oblivious to how close he was to you—but he needed more. 

To execute his plans, he needed to do some research. He planned to stop having the building be a physical obstacle against his needs, looking up your apartment complex and looking at the rooms ready to be rented out, focusing on the ones on the top floor—your floor—and looking at the floor plans. With just a few clicks on the internet and a few drives, the type of information you can get was amazing; we all know the saying, if there’s a will, there’s a way. He found those floor plans with the available pictures, seeing that all of them were similar, the only difference being the placement of the bedroom and bathrooms—the only thing in his way now was getting inside. 

When your lights turned off, he was ready for his plan to continue; he marched up to the doors, running through the rain and making his way to the doors, waiting for someone, making a show of forgetting his keys—it came easy to him to lie and perform. 

“Oh god, not again,” he started patting down his pockets, looking around until an older woman came along, giving him a gentle smile that signalled how his acting was believable. 

“Have you forgotten the key to the front door?” 

“Yeah… I always forget the key to this door; I moved in only a week ago; I need to get used to it.” In another email, making a whole other identity, Leon managed to send a few questions to the landlord, knowing that there were two keys given to the occupant, a front door key and an apartment key—as said, he did his research before coming to your place. 

“Oh dear, here you go,” she let him in without a second thought. His innocent facade took her in as he thanked her: “Don’t worry about it, sweety. Forgetting is an easy thing. You have a great night.” 

She waved him off as he pressed the elevator button, thinking to himself I will have a great night, clutching onto the straps of his backpack, waiting for the elevator to ascend to your floor; every time the number of the level changed, a jump in his chest was felt, excitement and anticipation running through his emotions as he thought how much closer he was getting to you, to be with you outside of work—finally. 

It was almost too easy to find where you were; he knew what side you were on and only needed to count the windows he saw on the inside until he made his way to yours; it was just two windows away from the very edge of the end; he pressed his ear against the door, hearing no sounds of your consciousness still roaming around. As he made sure his coast was clear, he collected a lock pick from the smallest pocket in his bag; he was a cop, after all, he knew his way around and learned how people did this; they ought to be careful who they let in this field of work. 

The silence within your place made the room feel empty; he was hit with your signature scent that sent a blush rushing to his cheeks, his heart beating at a constant quickened rhythm as he processed how close he was to you, how close he was to your private realm that he snuck into, everything about you could be learnt just within these walls—but he needed to stay at the task he provided himself. He made his way into your room, padding silently down the hall; he breathes in deeply as he reaches for your white-painted bedroom door, thankful it wouldn’t make a sound as you had left it a crack open. 

She’s practically asking for it; Leon’s delusional monologue kept running rampant in his thoughts. 

You were fast asleep, as planned, curled up in the countless pillows and blankets you had surrounding you; Leon couldn’t help but find you adorable how you were cuddled up, but he couldn’t let his admiration of you stop his tracks. His backpack hit the floor, making you jolt in movement, but only shifting your legs into a more comfortable position; you were out cold, giving Leon the perfect opportunity to continue with his plan. He retrieved a cloth, draining every last drop of chloroform on it, it dripping all over the floor; with a few searches, he knew it wasn’t going to be a quick breath in like the movies presented; he knew he had to press this on your nose and mouth for at least a few minutes, the fact you were a heavy sleeper made it very easy for this to happen. While you were away in dreamland, he gently pressed the wet rag on your nose and mouth, pressing just enough for you to inhale deeply but not enough to force you awake; you felt almost a tickle sensation on your nose, just thinking it was your fan pushing air on your face and causing an itch; oh how your naivety just made it ten times easier for Leon to indulge a little. 

He watched your digital clock to wait for the appropriate amount of time to pass, listening to your breathing becoming shallower with every minute that past; just as the recommended time has been completed, he presses his ear to your chest, your heartbeat and breathing patterns being a murmur now; he couldn’t mess up now, he was in your room and ready to complete everything his fantasies were forcing him to do, he grabbed your face, his fingers pressing into the plush of your cheeks to give more evidence that you were asleep, but you would awake within due course.

It was time. 

In a matter of seconds, he stripped off his shirt and jeans, throwing all the layers you put on yourself, his fingers tightening around the bands of your sleep clothes and peeling them off, exposing your naked and bare body right in front of him; his pupils dilated, his blush deepening, and his cock hardening as he processed how close he was to your naked form, your naked helpless form that was ready for the taking, ready for his taking. 

As his eyes widen to encapture your whole form, he pressed a desperate kiss on your limp lips, pressing his hands on your chest, grabbing and squeezing them the more he placed wet and rough kisses on your soft lips; he couldn’t believe how you were just there, ready to fulfil everything he had been thinking of—this was the kick he needed, the little taste of motivation to keep going before you would be all over him, he kept thinking about the day you would help him get undressed and let him fuck deep inside you, but he had to settle for this time with you now before that happened. He released whimpers as he grinds his hips into yours, his hands underneath your thighs as he makes them go around his waist, kissing you like you were a hungry couple experiencing their first night together. He couldn’t help but be amused as he pinched your nipples, shocked as they sprung into hardened buds; lapping his tongue around them and letting them be covered in his saliva as he slid his tongue around them and placed gentle nibbles; there was just so much to do; and so little time; he wanted to feel and experience every inch of you, but time was limited, and this was just a taste for him before he wore you down. 

He gulped as his fingers collected around his waistband, freeing his throbbing erection from his boxers, adjusting your panties to the side so he could slip his length inside you; his fingers started following the line of your folds, a spurt of precum forming around his tip as he watched your glistening cunt ready for him, pushing his hips closer to you and sliding his tip to push along your slit and hit your clit now and again, he felt his breath hitch as he stared at your wet pussy, biting his lip and letting out quiet and whispered whimpers as he pushed himself inside you, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as he placed his hands on your hips before bucking his hips and watching your motionless frame bounce with every thrust he forced onto you.  

“Fuck, you feel amazing, baby,” he cooed like you could hear and feel everything he was doing, pushing his hard cock further into your sopping wet cunt that dribbled all over him, making it easier to slide and feel your walls grasp around him, making it hard to last long and savour this blissfully moment, to him, with feeling his dick be placed in something he wanted to own and possess. 

He focuses on grinding the head of his cock, pumping it further and letting it continuously hit and bruise your delicate cervix. As he watched your tits bounce, your closed eyes in a tranquil state, he pictured what it would be like to hear you moaning his name, to feel you roam your hands over his biceps and chest as you begged him to cum inside you. He bent down to the crook of your neck, inhaling your sweet and addictive scent with a sigh; as much as he wanted to fill you with his seed, to fuck it further inside you and take ownership, he didn’t want to make such a mess; most importantly, he didn’t want to make a mess that could be tracked. 

As he felt a deep gruntle moan erupt out of him, he pulled out and let it spurt all over your soft skin, watching how much of messy darling you looked underneath him.

He thought how easy it would be to drag your helpless body somewhere where you could realise your love with him, somewhere where Leon could fulfil every fantasy he wanted to on your gorgeous frame. 

“You’re mine, sweetheart. Forever mine.” 

Being delusional is a dangerous thing for the obsessive. 

star divider is from @/inklore

please note the best way of supporting your writers is by liking and reblogging, i send so much love to everyone that took the time to read this and hope everyone has a lovely day/evening.

[hajoon-iz-won]

Magnetic Force of a Man

smut 18+ mdni

Pairing: ceo!Jay x worker!Y/N

"Do you know why I require all of my assistants to have Masters degrees?” he asked as he stood up and began to walk slowly around his desk.

"It's because I find educated women incredibly sexy," he said softly, leaning down close to my ear.

Warnings: smut, 18+, MDNI, dom!Jay, impregnation, dirty talk, fingering, pussy fucking, female masturbation, age gap (4 years), exhibitionism, breeding, unprotected sex, creampie

Word Count: 5.4k

"You have got to be fucking kidding me!” I cursed as I stared down at the tear in my brand new sheer pantyhose. "Run-proof my ass! "

Shaking my head in dismay, I quickly looked around the large underground parking garage, praying to God that no one could see or hear me as I hurriedly positioned myself between my front door and the driver's seat of my beige sedan, hiking my lavender pencil skirt up to my ass, and then slid the ruined pair of hose the rest of the way down my legs.

Thankfully, I packed an extra pair!

I sat down on the side of the car seat and removed my violet high heels, almost like I was pulling out the replacements, taking them from the packing and quickly began slipping my feet inside.

The voice of a man said abruptly, "Yes, that's right."

My breath caught in my throat, I paused and turned to see the source of the voice. I was stunned by what I saw and halted abruptly, my new pantyhose halfway up my legs.

He had a great appearance. He was sitting at least fifty feet away from me, yet I could still see the platinum shine of his watch as he raised his left arm to check the time. He was dressed elegantly in a navy blue suit. His shiny black low-cut hair must have reached at least five eleven" in height.

With a dark satchel clasped in his right hand, he confidently walked towards the elevator labeled "PRIVATE." His broad shoulders, confident gait, and commanding presence evoked the image of a male model seen in GQ publications. His whole demeanor was confident.

I could tell that he was chatting to someone else and not about me or my pantyhose dilemma when a blue light blinked next to his ear. He never even gave me a sidelong glance.

I eventually snapped back to reality as he slid behind one of the pillars and finished pulling on my pantyhose. I tucked my skirt in and put my stilettos back on, eager to begin my first day of training as an executive assistant for Park Industries within the enormous, imposing Park Business building. (It seems the corporation required more than one because it was so large.)

I'd never seen or heard of Jay Park, the CEO of the company, before applying for this job. Even though I had looked him up online, all the pictures I could find of him included him wearing dark sunglasses and hats, which made me think he was probably a very secretive person. It appeared that he would much rather maintain a very low profile than be in the spotlight.

Nothing could have prepared me for the day I visited the Park Building for the first time, even though I had finished an internship at a Fortune 500 corporation close to my college campus.

My first interview had been with a woman named Son Eunsaem. She'd had a highly professional appearance and a no-nonsense attitude. She hadn't smiled once during the interview.

I was surprised when I got a call back for a second interview. That was where I met the other executive assistants. Park Industries had an executive assistant for each and every department in the company, and I had applied to the marketing department.

And I started working on the actual job today. At nine o'clock, I had my official orientation meeting, and then I was meant to meet with Jay Park, the company's CEO.

On their first day of work, all new hires were required to meet with the CEO, who was said to like having face-to-face meetings with each and every one of his staff members. I'll admit that I was anxious, but I was also interested to see this billionaire's true appearance.

The thirty-story building housed the marketing department on its twenty-fifth floor. At the orientation, there was another new hire in addition to me. Ryu Hanbin was his name, and he had been employed in the software department.

At orientation, our ID cards were issued to each of us. We were granted entry to the elevators, break facilities, and exits reserved for employees only. My heart started to race inside my chest as the orientation was coming to a conclusion.

Hanbin and I were taken to a private employee elevator and showed how to use our ID cards to operate it. Jay Park's office was on the top floor, and that's where our orientation leader, a middle-aged woman named Won Chaerin, led us up.

As the elevator door opened at the pinnacle floor, we had been greeted with the aid of using a short, stout, but very neat and well-groomed bald guy with a cleanly-shaven face in a vibrant purple pantsuit.

"Welcome to Park Land,” he stated with a welcoming grin as he reached out to shake our hands. "That's what we name the pinnacle floor, right here." He appeared to laugh after each sentence he spoke. “My call is Jinyoung, however all of us right here calls me Jin.” Another laugh.

What a unusual guy, I thought.

He led us down a hallway that ended with a reception table and a small living room area. There had been high-returned black leather-based chairs and a large flat-display tv withinside the ready area. There additionally regarded to be a bar of a few kind in the back of the reception table.

"Y'all can simply make yourselves comfortable whilst I allow Mr. Park recognize you are right here,” he instructed us with every other laugh earlier than sashaying returned to his spot in the back of the reception table.

"Thank you,” I instructed him as I took a seat in one of the leather-based chairs and crossed my legs.

As I sat ready, my heart commenced to overcome so rapid that it felt like it'd leap up out of my throat at any second. A stolen look over at Hanbin noticed his foot nervously tapping in opposition to the carpeted floor, and I felt relieved that I wasn't the simplest worried individual withinside the room.

A second later, the telephone on Jin's table rang, and he spoke back it on speaker.

"Send Ms. Y/L/N in first,” the voice said in a deep, authoritative tone.

"Right away, sir," Jin answered as he glanced over towards me.

I stood up and accompanied him down but every other lengthy hallway, with stylish artwork lining the partitions and porcelain statues each few feet.

At the quit of the hall, there has been a fancy-searching door with a platinum door knob.

"Knock, knock,” Jin said in a singsong-like voice as he knocked on it twice before turning the knob and pushing it open. “Ms. Y/L/N, meet Mr. Jay Park.”

He waited for me to step inside the large, elaborately decorated office before shutting the door behind me.

I stood there, with my back to the door and my orientation folder in my hand, not sure what to do next. Mr. Park had his head down and was doing something on his phone, but as soon as the door closed, he looked directly up at me, and my jaw almost hit the floor in utter awe.

Jay Park was none other than the sexy, model-esque man who'd been walking through the employee parking garage earlier.

I knew I was staring, but I didn't care. The man was a real-life Adonis.

"It's nice to meet you, Ms. Y/L/N. Come. Have a seat.”

It was more of an order than a request, but I didn't mind. He had the most hypnotizing pair of eyes. They were a deep, dark br, and I felt as if I could get lost in them if I stared too long.

He didn't smile, but he didn't frown. He was eyeing me curiously as I made my way over to the chair in front of his huge, rectangular desk. I felt as if he was sizing me up for something... something other than just this job position.

"So, Ms. Y/L/N, you are twenty-four and you have an MS in Business Management. Impressive. What are your plans in the next five years?”

I felt completely on the spot. I cleared my throat before speaking.

"Well, I'm hoping to be working a job I love, maybe get promoted, and start moving up in the ranks."

"Hmm," he said quietly.

I leaned forward a bit and noticed that he had a folder open with my resume, cover letter, and some photos of me inside.

"Do you know why I require all of my assistants to have Masters degrees?” he asked as he stood up and began to walk slowly around his desk.

My heart sped up and began to beat harder than ever. He had removed his suit jacket, and his white silk shirt hugged his toned upper body with flair, accenting the broadness of his shoulders.

I shook my head and swallowed hard as my body temperature began to rise. No man had ever had such a profound effect on me. I could actually feel heat starting to build within my core and a noticeable tingling between my thighs.

He walked around to the back of my chair and stood behind me. My heart was beating a billion beats per minute.

"It's because I find educated women incredibly sexy," he said softly, leaning down close to my ear.

I shuddered at the feel of his breath against my lobe. My body was completely on fire for this man, and he hadn't even touched me. I was at a loss for words.

I wanted to glance up at him, but I was frozen in place like a stone statue, and all I could do was sit there facing forward as I waited to see what was going to happen next. From behind me, I heard him inhale deeply and then exhale slowly.

“Ahh, your perfume is intoxicating, but I sense something else about you, Ms. Y/L/N. You are in your prime,” he stated sensuously, his voice barely more than a whisper.

His lips were so close to my neck that his breath felt hot against my skin. It caused a shiver to run down my spine, and I had to muster every ounce of strength to keep a moan from escaping my lips.

Then, suddenly, he stood straight up and walked back around to the other side of his desk, and his demeanor had returned to a strictly professional one.

"Mrs. Son was quite impressed with you and spoke very highly of your interview," he said plainly as he sat back down in his chair.

"Really? Wow," I replied.

"You sound surprised," he said with a slight grin. "I know she can come across as somewhat ‘rigid, but it's all just part of how she does her job. She's extremely professional and would make an excellent poker player, no doubt.”

He chuckled slightly at his comment, and I uttered a small giggle as well.

"Well, I'm certain you'll be a definite asset to Park Industries, Ms. Y/L/N. Welcome to the team,” he said with a smile.

His smile revealed a set of the most perfect pearly whites I had ever seen up close. While staring at them, I almost missed the fact that he'd also extended his hand to me.

"Thank you, Mr. Park,” I said nervously, returning his smile with one of my own.

"You have a lovely smile, Ms. Y/L/N," he stated softly, still holding onto my hand after I'd stopped shaking it.

“Thanks,” I said coyly, tearing my eyes away from his before I became completely lost in them.

He ran his thumb slowly across the side of my hand before finally letting it go. That small, simple touch from him only added more fuel to the fire that was already building in my loins.

“Ms. Y/L/N? ”He called out to me just as I was about to leave his office.

"Yes?" I replied, turning around to look at him one more time.

"I'm having a small meeting this evening at the Italy Garden restaurant. The dress code is semi-formal. Can you be ready by 7:00?”

"Uhh, yes. Certainly, Mr. Park,” I replied, caught completely off guard.

"Great. I'll send a car to your place at 7:00, then.”

I left his office feeling flustered in more ways than one. It had been more than a year since I'd last had sex, and my attraction to Mr. Park was anything but subtle. He had a magnetic effect on me, one that I knew I was incapable of fighting.

I walked swiftly down the hall, past the small lounge where Hanbin was still seated, and into the ladies' restroom directly adjacent to Jin's reception desk. Breathing hard, I went into one of the stalls, set my folder down on the back of the commode, hiked my skirt up to my waist, and yanked my pants down to my thighs.

Panting like an animal in heat, I sat down on the seat and spread my legs.

"Mmm," I muttered as I closed my eyes and placed my right hand on the crotch of my thin satin pants.

Yanking my pants to the side, I exposed my moist, partially-swollen bud and began to massage it. Another moan escaped my lips as I bucked my hips and rubbed my pussy faster and harder.

I imagined that Mr. Park was in the bathroom stall with me and that he had pulled my pants to the side. It was his lips and tongue against my throbbing, swollen bulb, causing sighs and moans of delight to escape my mouth and sending me into a frenzy of pleasure.

“Ohhh,” I murmured softly as I pictured him rubbing the head of his hard, pulsating cock against my slick, hot slit.

I imagined his hands grabbing my ass cheeks and squeezing them hard in a fit of primal, uncontrollable passion. I pictured him entering me slowly at first, until his rock-hard dick was deep inside my pussy, stretching me to the limit.

"Fuuuck," I whispered as I plunged my fingers as deep into my warm, wet tunnel as they would go. "Yesss! Fuck me, Mr. Park!"

I imagined his cock moving in and out of me, faster and harder, fucking like wild animals as we both got closer and closer to our climaxes. Completely and totally engulfed in how unbelievably good the sex felt, neither one of us even cared that we were fucking unprotected.

"I want you to cum inside me, Mr. Park,” I imagined telling him. “Oh fuck, yessss! Cum in my pussy! Fill me up with your cum."

I didn't even care if I got pregnant or not; I just needed to feel his hot cum inside of me.

I was right on the brink of my orgasm, and I could already tell it was going to be a really good one. As I bit down on my bottom lip to keep from crying out in pleasure, I pictured myself biting down on Mr. Park's ear to stifle my passion-filled moans.

My legs began to shake, and my hips bucked uncontrollably as a powerful climax wracked my entire body. I imagined Mr. Park squeezing my ass cheeks hard as his cock squirted into my cunt, filling me to the brim.

"Ohhh," I whispered, uttering a sigh of satisfaction as my orgasm began to wane.

After taking a moment to enjoy the afterglow, I quickly cleaned myself up, left the restroom, and headed back down to the 25th floor to finish out my workday.

I had just finished putting on my makeup when I noticed it was 6:45. The dress I had selected for tonight's meeting was a long, form-fitting silver cocktail gown I'd bought last spring. It was elegant, with a touch of sex appeal. The back dipped below the waist, and the front wrapped around the neck.

At 6:54, I heard a horn blow outside of my apartment. I slid into a pair of silver stiletto sandals, grabbed a small silver purse, and headed outside.

"Wow!" I exclaimed when I saw the pearly white stretch limousine waiting at the curb.

A tuxedo-clad chauffer opened my door for me and helped me into the back seat.

The inside of the limousine was immaculate! There was a fully-stocked bar with liquor, wine, and champagne. There were wine glasses on a glass shelf next to the bar. There was also a small fridge with fruits, cheeses, and other exotic-looking snack foods.

I helped myself to a glass of champagne and turned on the satellite radio to listen to on the way to the restaurant.

When we arrived about twenty minutes later, the chauffeur helped me out of the limo, and I walked inside. An older male host in a black and white suit was standing at a podium near the entrance.

"Good evening, Madam. Welcome to the Italy Garden restaurant. Do you have a reservation?” he asked.

“Umm, yes. My name is Y/N Y/L/N. I'm here for a dinner meeting with Mr. Jay Park,” I replied anxiously, trying hard to hide how nervous I truly was.

The five-star dining facility was way out of my league and price range. I had never been in a place so upscale and fancy. There were scores of expensive-looking pictures hanging on the walls and exquisite artifacts and statues in and around the corners.

I followed the host to a luxurious VIP balcony area where Jay Park was already seated and waiting for me.

"You look amazing, Ms. Y/L/N," he said, flashing that billion-dollar smile that made me want to melt right where I stood.

"Thank you," I replied shyly, returning a smile his way.

The host pulled out my chair, and I sat down.

"I've taken the liberty to order us a bottle of the finest champagne this place has to offer,” he told me with a grin. “What are you in the mood for?”

I couldn't pronounce a single dish on the menu.

"I'll have whatever you're having," I said softly, closing my menu and setting it to the side. I didn't want to risk embarrassing myself in front of our waiter.

"This champagne is delightful," I exclaimed before taking another sip.

"Only the best for a woman as perfect as you, Y/N," Jay stated sweetly.

It was the first time he'd ever called me by my first name. I could feel my cheeks reddening as I smiled somewhat sheepishly.

"So where are the rest of the meeting attendees?” I asked inquisitively as I glanced around the area we were seated in.

"This meeting is just for you and me, Y/N," Jay said in a sultry tone of voice. "There's something about you, Y/N, that drives me crazy. Ever since you walked into my office, I haven't been able to get you out of my mind."

I felt the same way about him. He was definitely the most attractive, magnetic, and alluring man I had ever met. I was just too shy to tell him so.

Dinner was absolutely incredible. The food was delicious, and I'd probably had a bit more champagne than I'd actually intended to drink. After a perfect meal, Jay led me back out to the limousine, and we both got into the backseat.

As we talked about our backgrounds, childhoods, and future plans while drinking top shelf champagne, I suddenly remembered that I hadn't even asked him where we were headed. Before I could even form the words to inquire, the limo slowed to a stop.

"Where are we?" I asked, just as the chauffeur opened the door.

“My place,” Jay replied with a grin. “I hope that's okay with you. There's something I want to show you."

Normally, I would have thought twice about going to the home of a man I'd just met, but there was just something about Jay that made him all but irresistible to me.

His house was beyond magnificent. The outside of it took up damned-near an entire city block, and the front yard stretched out around the sides of the house. There was a huge, circular, paved driveway at the front, and the limo had stopped directly in the middle.

I couldn't even imagine what it was he wanted to show me. I felt both excited and anxious simultaneously.

Taking my hand inside his, he proceeded to lead me through his humongous residence, showing me all of the different paintings and other extraordinary decor and informing me of the countries from which they'd been ordered. Finally, we came to this nice, dimly lit room with a beautiful faux fireplace against the rear wall. My eyes widened in amazement as we entered the romantic-looking space hand-in-hand.

"Wowww!" I exclaimed, as I had done several hundred times since we'd first gotten out of the limo. "This room is so..."

“Enchanting? ”Jay stated in a questioning tone, finishing my exclamation for me.

"Yeah! Definitely!” I agreed as I looked around in bewilderment.

There was a bar counter in the far left area of the room and what appeared to be a fully-stocked mini bar behind it. A lavish-looking cream-colored sectional sofa was in the middle of the space, facing the fireplace, and there was a huge matching rug laid out in front of it.

Just as I was about to remove my shoes out of respect for the rug, the lights suddenly dimmed lower, and about a hundred faux candles all lit up simultaneously. Also, smooth, relaxing, slow music immediately began to play. The candlelight appeared to dance to the beat of the music.

I was totally speechless and utterly astonished. I had never seen anything like it before. I glanced over at Jay, who had already removed his own shoes and was filling two wine glasses at the built-in mini bar.

"Please, have a seat, Y/N,” he said amorously, nodding toward the sectional.

I sat down and continued to enjoy the ambiance of the supremely romantic setting until he soon came over to join me and placed a glass of champagne in my hand.

"So? Do you like it?" he asked after taking a sip of his drink.

"Like it? This is absolutely amazing!" I said with a huge grin.

"I'm glad you think so. I've never brought any woman into this room until tonight.

"I find that extremely hard to believe,” I said honestly."

I may be a lot of things, Y/N, but I am definitely not a liar,” he asserted. “Men like me don't have to be in order to get what we want."

“Now that, I absolutely do believe,” I replied with a grin. “So, what is it that you want with me? ”

"Ahh, the billion-dollar question," he said sultrily.

Just then, a very popular song began to play.

"Ohh, I love this song!" he said excitedly as he stood up and held out his hand. “Dance with me.”

I didn't refuse. He pulled me upward and into his strong arms, and I wrapped mine around his neck. The scent of his cologne was intoxicating. I closed my eyes and pressed my body against his as we swayed to the music. Caught up in the moment, I felt like I could stay in his arms like that forever.

Then, suddenly, he pulled away for a moment and looked deep into my eyes.

“Y/N, you have it all. I adore your womanly physique, your stunningly bright brown eyes, and the fact that you are a very intelligent young woman. You are damned-near flawless. From the very first moment you walked into my office, I have had an undeniable, overwhelming attraction to you, and I know you feel it too."

I was completely speechless. I mean, what was I supposed to say? How do you even reply to a statement like that?

In all honesty, I was just as attracted to him as he was to me, but with him being both my boss and such a wealthy, sophisticated man, I think I felt a little bit intimidated. I'd never imagined myself being wined and dined with a billionaire Adonis like him.

I just kind of stood there, gazing into his tantalizing eyes like a giddy schoolgirl with a crush.

"Y/N,” he whispered as he suddenly spun me around so that he was behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist.

"Yes," I whispered back to him as the feeling of his warm breath against the nape of my neck instantly made me moist between my thighs.

I moaned as his soft lips brushed against the lobe of my him,. My body was instantaneously on fire for him and he had barely touched me.

"I want you," he whispered as his manly hands found my breasts and cupped them through the thin fabric of my cocktail dress.

The tips of his fingers found my nipples, causing another moan to escape my mouth. I felt his hand on the back of my neck, and then suddenly, my dress slid carelessly to the floor. I was braless, and this seemed to turn Jay on even more.

He groaned as I felt his manhood begin to stiffen against my ass.

"Y/N, you're fucking perfect,” he said gruffly, his voice raspy against my ear. “I want you. And you want me, too, don't you?

"Yes, Jay, yes," I moaned.

His hands squeezed my breasts, and I sighed loudly, arching my back. I felt his stiffening cock twitch in his pants.

"I'm twenty-eight years old, and I'm not getting any younger, Y/N. I've been looking for the right woman to bear my offspring, and you are the perfect specimen. I know you probably walked into the Park building today with your own plans and aspirations for your career and whatnot, but I have to be honest with you; I want you to bear my children.”

It was a lot to take in. He had certainly said a mouthful. I wasn't so sure about having kids with a man I'd just met, but he was definitely different from any other man I'd ever met, and odds were that I'd probably never meet anyone quite like him again.

His right hand slid down my midsection and into the front of my satin pants. I hissed with delight, biting down on my lip to stifle my cry of pleasure. He was applying just the right amount of pressure to my bud, and I was grinding my crotch against his hand.

"Don't hold back, Y/N,” he ordered in a breathy voice. “Let it all out!”

With that, he slid two fingers inside my dripping-wet pussy. I thrust my hips forward and let out a cry.

“Fuck, your pussy is already so wet for me! ”He declared with a grunt, pressing his erection against my ass.

Just as I was about to climax, he stopped, pulled his fingers out of my pants, and turned me around to face him. He put his fingers in his mouth and sucked my excitement out of them. My face flushed with need.

Then he pushed me down onto my knees as he undid his pants, releasing his stiff, throbbing cock. It was large—larger than I'd expected. It was definitely the biggest dick I'd ever seen in my twenty-four years on this earth. But I didn't care. I was going to try my damnedest to swallow it whole.

I caressed the shaft as I slid my tongue around the tip of his cock, teasing it gently, and then sliding it down into my mouth as far as it would go. I sucked it slowly and easily at first, and then I took my hand and used it with the rhythm of my mouth, sucking it as hard and fast as I could.

Groans fell from Jay's lips as he grabbed my hair and fucked my mouth. Then suddenly, he stopped me.

Easing the rest of the way out of his pants, he pulled me up toward him again and kissed me passionately, using his tongue to invade my mouth hungrily. I moaned as he began to trail his lips and tongue down my neck, pausing to lick, suck, and fondle both of my breasts, and then continuing down my belly until he reached the top of my pants.

With his teeth, he worked my pants down over my hips and buttocks, letting them drop to the floor near my dress. He parted my thighs slightly, using his fingers to slide my folds apart and massage my bud. Then, his lips replaced his fingers against my moist, pulsating pussy, and I cried out in sheer passion.

He was so skilled and talented—his tongue was like a fucking vibrating sex toy! He grabbed and squeezed my ass with one hand and used the other to slide two fingers back inside my pussy. I couldn't take it anymore!

"Fucckkk, I'm going to cum, Jay! I'm going to cum...so...fucking..." I couldn't even finish my sentence. His fingers pressed against my g-spot, and his tongue darted fast and hard against my pussy, sending me completely over the edge with the most powerful, intense, earth-shattering orgasm I had ever experienced.

My entire body shuddered and shook, and my legs tensed up. I grabbed his head as my crotch jerked forward uncontrollably against his face.

"Shiiiiittt! Oh fuuuuck!" I screamed loudly, unable to speak any other words.

When my climax finally began to wane, just as I was about to catch my breath, Jay suddenly lifted my legs up on his shoulders and gently pushed me down onto the soft, cream-colored rug lying me down on my back.

Not wasting a second, he slid his huge, hard cock into me slowly, with my legs still hoisted up on his shoulders.

I moaned long and hard as he stretched me to my limit, sliding deeper into my pussy than any other man had ever been.

“Fuck, Y/N, your pussy's so tight and wet! ," he exclaimed, moaning as he began to thrust in and out of me, going deeper with every stroke.

I was moaning so loudly that I could barely even hear the music playing anymore. His own groans became louder and longer with every thrust of his burly hips.

I reached up and wrapped my hands around his neck as he started fucking me harder and faster. It wasn't long before I felt a second orgasm building, getting closer and closer...

I still wasn't exactly certain about letting him impregnate me and make me the mother of his children, but the sex was fucking earth-shattering. I had never been fucked so good before! I felt his huge, stiff cock plunging in and out of me as I cried out in delirious pleasure.

Just as I was about to scream out loud, having reached my second powerful orgasm, he let out a loud, long groan, and I knew he was there, too. We were climaxing together simultaneously, and for a brief moment, it was like the two of us became one in our own world of bliss.

I felt his cock spurting his hot cum deep inside of me, filling my pussy to the brim, but it felt so fucking wonderful that I didn't give a shit. Besides, he was rich and handsome and could fuck like a damn machine.

As we finally came back to our senses, Jay kissed my lips as he slid out of me and plopped down on the rug beside me. The fake fire was still going, and the lights and music were still playing.

"That was, by far, the best sex I've ever had in my life,” I said breathily as I looked over at him.

"Me too," he said sultrily as he slid his arm beneath my neck.

With that, his eyes closed, as did mine, and we both drifted off into a satisfied slumber.

Jay and I continued to fuck like rabbits over the next few weeks, having hot, steamy, amazing sex every chance we got. And every time he came, he shot his hot cum deep inside of me.

Three weeks later, my pregnancy test came back positive. Jay was ecstatic, of course. At first, I had mixed emotions. I was going to become a mother. Was I really ready?

He immediately made me quit my job and put me in a beautiful condo with a view that overlooked the entire city. He found me the best doctors in the area and accompanied me to all of my prenatal appointments.

So I wouldn't be able to work for a while. I mean, babies don't stay babies. They eventually grow up into adults who can take care of themselves. Who knows? Once I've raised my kids, perhaps I'll still want to go back into the workforce.

For now, though, I think I'll just enjoy swelling with Jay's seed, growing rounder and riper by the day.

[superdillin]

That Time I was on Adventuring Academy

Ok it's a clickbaity title but I've been thinking a lot about where I was in this moment, and who I am now, and what an ENORMOUS difference there is, a verifiably ocean between moments.

We can get the obvious differences out of the way like:

my name

my gender

my camera situation

all of which have improved drastically I must say.

When I was asked to do this I had published my first game supplement ever, Neverland: The Impossible Island. And I LOVE it still. For what it is, it was a killer first project. A fully playable D&D setting for JM Barrie's Peter Pan setting, Neverland. Concept and execution, I did a pretty decent job.

Gang, I was SHITTING myself during this entire interview. And I don't really even mean just because Brennan was someone influential to me, someone I didn't know at all at this point, but I was new to interviews and being on a public platform too. I was even still new as a performer, which I would confidently say is my strong suit now. I was being held together by adrenaline. Now, it's kind of hard for me to watch myself stumble through that. I've come like...an exceptionally long way since then.

And I have more to say now than I did then. Brennan introduces me so kindly as a game designer but truthfully I wasn't yet! I had written a module for D&D, and that's all. Fine, and fun, and I did a good job - but I've learned so much and experienced so much and I have so much knowledge and love and feral, unabashed passion for games now that I wish I could tell this past version of me about. I get to share that now, every single week, on One Shot - introducing people to new games and beautiful artists.

What I care about in this industry has also grown and shifted. Back then I was still fighting my way through the horde of misogynists to create space as a seemingly feminine person in the hobby by getting my mits all over their favorite franchise (D&D).

Now, I want us free from corporate fast food games, I want people to see the magnificent iceberg of art and exploration and humanity that games have that we can experience. I want designers who are paid to create their own art, not serving a corporation's image for pennies. I want to radicalize this hobby against the colonialism and transphobia and imperialism that snuck into all it's roots.

Anyway I'm SO proud of who I've become and where this moment has led me and for how far away it seems. I've lived and I have grown and I've become someone I'm even more proud of.

((oh and one final aside - this was one of the most professional experiences I ever had, from not just Brennan but everyone who set things up behind the scenes. That also taught me a lot about what was acceptable and what was not, going into future, often less good, interviews. ))

[pookietv]

the not-so-useless hotline | george clarke

this has been rotting in my drafts for a while but it was a req so i hope you enjoy! may be a little sucky, sorry about that :)

dedicated to both the nonnie who requested and the nonnie who was adorable to me in dms so!!!!

to be honest, you didn't even really know what you had become well known for.

you started on youtube, ended up singing and modelling and vlogging and god knows what else, and you were a little bit of a mystery to the world.

but, nonetheless you had become adored by the internet, and eventually dragged on a podcast by max, who you had met on a brand trip and had grown to quite like, even if you had only seen him a handful of times.

so when you showed up to a little office with worn out computers and a smile on max's face, it did make you giggle to be on the set that you had seen him, and george, who even though you had seen him a lot online, you admittedly knew next to nothing about.

"y/n! hello, welcome!" you were invited in by who you assumed was a manager, who helped you get microphoned up, staying quiet whilst you listened to max and george speak and introduce the podcast whilst you waited on the sidelines for being introduced.

so when you heard the, "okay, send her up for the interview!" and you sat opposite them, your cheeks were a little red from laughing as it felt strange to be sat opposite them in such a corporate setting, even if was all a big joke.

"welcome y/n to your interview at the useless hotline! i'm max, this is george, very important interview today," max joked, and you nodded a little more, laughing and repeating, "very important, yes."

"yeah, i'm so glad to be here, i really need this job!" you joked back, allowing yourself to have a moment looking at george, being your first proper time meeting him. he was quite attractive, put together nicely.

"well, we have very high standards here, although max doesn't reflect that too well," george joked back, and you nodded in a teasingly solemn look.

"well, every company has it's stinker, and i suppose here it's max," you smiled, and max rolled his eyes.

"you bitch! haven't even introduced yourself and you're already mocking me," max grinned.

"oh, sorry, i introduce myself and then mock you?" you teased back.

after being made to make max and george extremely potent alcoholic drinks, and introducing yourself, with a little gossip about music and max's social life, eventually you get questions thrown your way.

"well, we figured we need to talk to you about your dating life, 'cause that's where our clickbait will be," george joked.

"literally! everyone knows you as some maneating mysterious woman going on dates all the time, and we're nosy," max teased, and you rolled your eyes in response.

"i'm not a maneater! jesus, you leave a bad impression max! i would just say i am very picky, that's all. y'know, high standards." you hummed a little as you drank your drink with a small grin.

"oh, come on, you know yourself there has been a cast of rotating rumours of people that the internet thought you might be dating," max urged, and you shrugged a little. "plus, when we went on that bar thing on the latest brand trip you told me about a few of them, so there must be some drama there!" he joked a little more.

"men are just very disappointing creatures, you know? there just hasn't really been one where i've been like, yeah, this person is fun to be around and i would like to be around them a lot of the time, so i'm still single!" i explained with a giggle.

"george is literally always saying something of a similar tune, he is kind of just a picky man," max joked a little, and i grinned and raised my eyebrows at george.

"picky, hm? i suppose i'm a little picky, but i don't think that's necessarily bad, i just think i would love to hold out for someone who is really for me, you know?" i asked him curiously.

"i wouldn't even say i'm picky, i just think... there's a kind of thing, where i'll, you know, find someone where i'm just like, yeah, this feels right," george explained, and i nodded.

"so do you have like.. a type?" max asked me, "george's type always seems to be women who don't like him back." max teased.

"there have definitely been some stinkers in the past but... i mean, i wouldn't even say i have a type, really. i like funny people, and i'd like someone that's taller then me... um, i guess i like facial hair but that's not a dealbreaker if not," i laughed a little awkwardly with a shrug of my shoulders.

"well, i'd say you'd like george but he is exceptionally not funny," max grinned to himself and i rolled my eyes in a giggly way, watching george turn to max.

"because you're just so witty yourself, max,"

the podcast continued, with topics only getting more intrusive and unhinged as we continued, before we got to the point where we were answering asks, and one came up asking george on a date as a plus one to a wedding.

"fuck you! see, everyone comes on the podcast and thirsts over george, but what if you had asked me? i would actually have shown up, how about that!" max huffed whilst george tried not to laugh.

"what, people try and hit on george through the podcast?" you asked, laughing myself.

"yeah, they do, his name is max balegde," george joked.

"they're really scraping the bottom of the barrel if they want george," max grinned, before looking at me, "do you get a lot of the whole randomers asking you out thing? seeing as you're so thirsted over on the internet?"

"i mean, i suppose so, but i don't read too many of them, they just stay in the requests bit of my messages so i don't pay them too much attention," you giggled slightly, shrugging, "though, i do appreciate the compliments, sometimes if i'm just having a really crap day i'll just look through edits of myself. is that narcissistic? maybe it is, but it does make you feel good,"

"max was begging people to make edits of him on one of the podcast episodes so i'm sure you're not too bad," george grinned to you, and you tittered a little at his answer, grinning back at him.

george was pretty attractive, actually.

it had been about a week since the episode of you on the useless hotline had come out: and to say you had been bombarded would be an understatement.

from shipping fan edits to insane tweets, there seemed to be a common theme, the theory that you were dating george.

he had texted you a little, talking about when the podcast was going to come out, and asking you if you had any plans over the weekend, mainly casual talk as he told you funny stories about his roommates, arthur and chris, and occasionally sending you photos of himself pulling faces.

liked by max_balegde, georgeclarkeey and 12,039 others

yourusername: my roommate tried to push me out of a window (but i made her take cute pictures so)

miaxmon: shut up i did not push you!

↳ yourusername: @/miaxmon whatever you say PUSHER

userone: since WHEN did she live with mia ???

↳ yourusername: since she begged me to live with her bc im awesome and sexy and she couldn't live without me (but actually for about six months!)

georgeclarkeey: she should have finished the job

↳ yourusername: smh silly george if she pushed me out the window then who else would the internet ship you with???

↳ georgeclarkeey: someone tolerable hopefully

↳ yourusername: i can see why you got stood up now

you have a new message from @/georgeclarkeey!

georgeclarkeey: now that was just cruel and uncalled for

yourusername: it was honesty which girl would show up for a date with you ???

georgeclarkeey: you hopefully

yourusername: you what???

georgeclarkeey: would you show up on a date with me?

yourusername: only if you said sorry for wanting mia to finish me off and that i am the best :)

georgeclarkeey: i just audibly sighed

georgeclarkeey: you are the best and i am sorry for saying i wanted mia to finish the job

georgeclarkeey: happy?

yourusername: absolutely

yourusername: so, a date?

georgeclarkeey: i was thinking a really tall building with loads of open windows. thoughts?

yourusername: you're sooooo funny george

georgeclarkeey: i know i know i'm hilarious

georgeclarkeey: i was actually thinking we could go to flight club and play darts

yourusername: i will beat you SO bad

georgeclarkeey: can't wait :)

yourusername: anyway, i thought you were really picky about who you go on dates with?

georgeclarkeey: i usually am

georgeclarkeey: i guess you just feel right

yourusername: are you this soppy with all your dates?

georgeclarkeey: well they usually don't show up so you'll be the first, obviously

georgeclarkeey: anyway i thought you were picky as well?

yourusername: okay shut up now george :)

[edenesth]

Still You

Pairing: ex-bf!Wooyoung x fem!reader (featuring Yunho)

AU: office au (exes to lovers)

Word Count: 15k

Summary: Wooyoung and you unexpectedly cross paths as colleagues in a prestigious design firm. Years after a painful breakup, you're forced to confront your unresolved feelings while working together on a crucial project. Will you rekindle your romance and build a new future together?

ATEEZ Masterlist

Dreamscape Inc.

The most prestigious design firm in Seoul.

You've dreamed of working here for as long as you can remember.

The sleek glass doors of the office parted with a soft whoosh, welcoming you into the polished lobby of your new workplace. The buzz of corporate life swirled around you, the air filled with excitement and the scent of fresh ambition.

Moving through the sea of strangers, your heart raced with a combination of anticipation and trepidation. You were excited to begin this new journey as a graphic designer in this firm.

With each step, the memories of your high school years felt like they belonged to a different lifetime.

But as you approached the elevator, your heart clenched, and your breath caught in your throat. There, just a few feet away, was a sight that you had never expected to encounter again.

His name echoed in your mind, a name you hadn't spoken in years.

Jung Wooyoung.

Your first love and ex-boyfriend.

Time stood still as your eyes locked onto his figure, frozen in disbelief. He stood there, as if conjured from your deepest memories, with a casual elegance that hadn't faded with the years. His dark hair, still tousled in that way you remembered so well, framed a face that had haunted your dreams for six long years.

For a heartbeat, you thought it might be a trick of the light, a mirage in your mind, but it was him—undeniably him.

His gaze was intense, his eyes penetrating yours with an intensity that felt like a thousand emotions, a million words unspoken. His once-familiar features were etched with the passage of time, but they were unmistakably Wooyoung.

Your heart, which had been pounding with anticipation a moment ago, seemed to seize, and for a split second, you felt it might stop entirely. A rush of memories flooded your mind—laughter in the hallways, stolen kisses in the park, and bitter goodbyes.

The joy, the pain, the love—all of it came rushing back.

The world around you faded into a blur, and it was just him and you, standing there in that dimly lit lobby.

"Oh hey, you're early!"

As you reluctantly tore your gaze away from the spot where your ex stood just moments ago, Yunho's cheerful voice brought you back to the present. He was the friendly HR recruiter who had interviewed you prior to your acceptance of this job.

Yunho extended a friendly hand and a warm smile, which you returned, feeling grateful for the timely interruption, "Welcome to Dreamscape Inc.," He said with genuine enthusiasm, "Alrighty, let us get on with your orientation then!"

You nodded, trying to shake off the lingering traces of shock and nostalgia, "Yes, thank you, Yunho."

As you stepped into the elevator with Yunho, you couldn't help but steal a quick glance back toward the lobby, hoping against hope to catch another glimpse of Wooyoung. But he had vanished into thin air, leaving you with an overwhelming sense of loss and confusion.

The recruiter noticed your distracted gaze and leaned closer, his voice lowering slightly, "Is everything alright?"

You hesitated for a moment, then decided to share a fragment of the truth, "I just... saw someone I used to know. It took me by surprise," His eyes held a knowing glint, "Ah, Seoul can be a small world sometimes. You never know who you might run into."

As the elevator doors closed and the car began its ascent, you wondered about the twist of fate that had brought you face-to-face with Wooyoung again. You knew it wasn't a mere coincidence, and deep inside, a sense of anticipation mixed with apprehension churned.

During the orientation, you did your best to push any thoughts of Wooyoung out of your mind.

The day was filled with introductions to company policies, team-building exercises, and discussions about upcoming projects. You tried to immerse yourself in the whirlwind of information, reminding yourself that you were on the cusp of your dream job at your dream workplace.

The past should stay in the past, and now, you should be focusing on your present and the promising future ahead.

As the hours passed, you met your new colleagues, exchanged contact information, and began forming the foundation of your professional network. The friendly and vibrant atmosphere at Dreamscape reassured you that you had made the right choice in joining this company.

Yunho proved to be a valuable guide throughout the orientation.

He introduced you to key team members and offered valuable insights into the company's culture and values. His cheerful demeanour and genuine support helped ease your anxieties.

Amidst the introductions and team-building activities, you made a conscious effort to concentrate on the present moment. You were determined to prove yourself as a talented graphic designer and to make a name for yourself in this competitive field.

As the day came to a close and the orientation concluded, you felt a renewed sense of purpose and excitement about your new position.

You were more than ready to embark on this journey of personal and professional growth. Thoughts of Wooyoung, though still lingering in the back of your mind, were overshadowed by the opportunities and challenges that lay ahead.

The past may have resurfaced unexpectedly, but you were determined to keep it at bay, focusing on the bright future that awaited you at Dreamscape.

A week had passed since you started working here, and life within the bustling design firm had settled into a rhythm of its own.

Thankfully, there were no signs of Wooyoung anywhere.

Perhaps he had been here merely as a client representing another company, or perhaps he belonged to a completely different department or division. Whatever the case, you were relieved not to have to work with him.

The thought of navigating a professional relationship with your ex-boyfriend, with whom you hadn't parted on good terms, was a scenario you didn't even want to entertain.

Things had been progressing smoothly in your new role, and you were already forming strong bonds with your colleagues. The camaraderie and support within your team helped you adapt to the fast-paced environment.

Work had yet to become overwhelming, allowing you to dive into projects with enthusiasm and creative energy.

Your days were filled with brainstorming sessions, design reviews, and collaborative efforts that fueled your passion for graphic design. As you engaged with your coworkers, you appreciated the vibrant atmosphere at Dreamscape, where creativity thrived, and ideas flowed freely.

In the evenings, you often found yourself attending team outings or joining colleagues for dinner and drinks, building not only professional relationships but also friendships that promised to extend beyond the office walls.

Life at the firm was becoming increasingly fulfilling, and you were reminded of the aspirations you had once shared with Wooyoung during your high school years. It was a bittersweet realisation that the dreams you had held back then were now taking shape in a different context, without him.

As the days turned into weeks, you grew more confident in your abilities and more at ease in your new environment.

The past, though it had momentarily resurfaced, felt like a distant memory, overshadowed by the opportunities that the present had to offer. You were on a path of professional growth, and the future was filled with promise.

With how smoothly things had been going, you were quite certain that you might never have to worry about the possibility of seeing or even having to think about your ex-boyfriend again.

Or so you thought.

As you sat enjoying your lunch break with Yunho and your colleagues, Jongho and Yeosang, in the bustling cafeteria, the excited voices of female colleagues from another department caught your attention. Their animated gushing and giggles filled the air, drawing the curiosity of your group.

With raised eyebrows, you exchanged knowing glances with your friends, wondering what could possibly have them so enthralled. Yunho, always the playful one, leaned in with a sly grin, "Well, well, well, it seems like I have some insider information." He teased, enjoying the intrigue he had sparked.

Jongho and Yeosang exchanged amused looks, their curiosity piqued, "Come on, Yunho hyung, spill the beans! What's got everyone so worked up?" The youngest prodded, feigning impatience.

The recruiter leaned in closer, lowering his voice for dramatic effect, "You know the new architect who recently joined our firm? The one who's causing quite a stir?"

Your heart skipped a beat as dread crept in.

Could this really be happening?

It was your ex's dream to become an architect, and you couldn't shake the fear that this popular architect was none other than Jung Wooyoung.

As Yunho negotiated a price with Jongho and Yeosang in exchange for the juicy intel, your mind raced with uncertainty and anxiety. The memories of your past with Wooyoung, the unresolved emotions, and the complicated history that still lingered between you both suddenly flooded your thoughts.

You tried to keep a composed facade, concealing the turmoil within.

The mere possibility that you might have to face Wooyoung again, not as a distant memory but as a colleague, sent shivers down your spine. You wondered if fate was testing you, forcing you to confront a past you had worked so hard to put behind you.

As the suspense mounted, Yunho finally leaned in to reveal the architect's name, and your heart hung in the balance, waiting for the name that could either confirm or alleviate your fears. The name hung in the air for what felt like an eternity before Yunho finally uttered it.

"It's Jung Wooyoung."

A gasp escaped your lips, though you tried desperately to stifle it. Your worst fears had been realised. The architect who had become the talk of the company, the one everyone was gushing about, was indeed your ex-boyfriend.

A flashback to eight years ago swept over you like a tidal wave, transporting you back to a time when your dreams were intertwined, and the world was full of promise.

The stars shimmered above like countless diamonds scattered across the vast canvas of the night sky. You and Wooyoung lay together on a soft, grassy field, your heads nestled on a shared pillow of dreams and ambitions.

His strong arm cradled your shoulders, and your head rested gently on his chest. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat provided a comforting backdrop to your conversation, as if the universe itself were whispering its approval.

You spoke of your dreams, your voice filled with the unwavering determination that only youth could bring.

"I want to become a graphic designer," You said, your eyes tracing the constellations above, "I want to bring stories to life through art, to create something that moves people."

He brushed his fingers gently against your cheek, his touch sending a shiver down your spine.

"And I," He replied, his voice filled with conviction, "I want to be an architect. I want to design buildings that stand as a testament to human creativity and innovation, structures that inspire awe and admiration."

In that moment, under the canopy of stars, you shared not only your dreams but also your hearts. The world felt like an open canvas, waiting for you both to paint it with your aspirations and love. The possibilities seemed endless, and you believed that together, you could conquer anything.

But as time went by, dreams shifted and paths diverged.

The bond that had once been unbreakable was severed, and the scars of your past had taken time to heal.

Now, as you faced the prospect of working alongside the person who had once been your confidant and soulmate, you wondered if destiny was conspiring to reunite you and him.

Back in the present, Yunho noticed your reaction to the revelation about the new employee. He didn't pry or say anything to prevent Jongho and Yeosang from noticing your unease. Instead, he tactfully steered the conversation in a different direction, allowing you some space to collect your thoughts.

You stayed quiet for the rest of the lunch break as your colleagues continued to discuss Wooyoung's fame in the industry and expressed their admiration for his joining the company. It seemed that everyone was thrilled to have such a renowned architect on board.

You found it increasingly difficult to focus on their conversation, your mind a swirl of conflicting emotions.

After lunch, Yunho, understanding the need for a private conversation, walked with you towards your workspace. He looked at you with genuine concern in his eyes and finally broached the subject, "You know, I noticed your reaction during lunch, especially when we talked about Jung Wooyoung. Was he the person you mentioned seeing on your first day?"

You hesitated, feeling a mixture of gratitude for his concern and the anxiety of having to reveal your personal history with Wooyoung. Taking a deep breath, you decided to be honest, "Yes, Yunho. He's... he's my ex-boyfriend from high school."

He nodded understandingly, his expression sympathetic, "I see. That must be quite a shock to run into him again after all these years."

You nodded, your voice barely above a whisper, "It is. We didn't exactly part on good terms, and I didn't expect to see him here, of all places."

Yunho placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder, "I understand it might be difficult for you. If you ever need to talk or if there's anything I can do to make things easier, please don't hesitate to let me know." His genuine concern touched you, and you felt grateful for the support of a friend in this unexpected and emotionally charged situation.

In the days that followed the revelation of Wooyoung's presence in Dreamscape, you were trapped in a constant state of anxiety.

The fear of bumping into him in the hallway or, worse, having to work alongside him weighed heavily on your mind. It felt like an emotional rollercoaster, with every corner turned, you wondered if you'd run into the past you had tried so hard to leave behind.

During this challenging time, Yunho became your confidant and your pillar of support. After all, he was the only one in the company who was aware of your shared history with Wooyoung. The two of you often found solace during your breaks in the pantry, sharing coffee and conversation as a way to alleviate your worries.

On one of those breaks, you couldn't contain your distress any longer.

You sighed deeply and pressed your head into your hands, shoulders slumping with the weight of your anxiety, "What am I going to do when I eventually see him, Yunho?" You confessed, your voice trembling with uncertainty.

Yunho, sitting beside you, instantly shifted to comfort mode.

He gently rubbed your back, a gesture meant to provide comfort in your moment of vulnerability, "I understand how difficult this must be for you," He said, his tone filled with empathy, "But remember, you're not alone in this. I'm here to support you, and we'll get through this together."

You looked up at him, gratitude shimmering in your eyes.

His unwavering friendship and understanding were a source of strength in the midst of your turmoil. With him by your side, you felt a glimmer of hope that you could face the looming reunion with Wooyoung, no matter how daunting it might seem.

And as if the universe had conspired to test your resolve, fate finally decided to bring your past into your present.

It was a moment you had been dreading since the day you found out he worked in the same company, and the timing couldn't have been more uncomfortable. Of course, he chose this particular moment when you and Yunho were so close to make his appearance.

The first indication of his presence came with the sudden clearing of his throat, a loud and deliberate sound that sliced through the air.

Your heart skipped a beat, dread gnawing at your insides.

Wooyoung stood there, just a few feet away, his expression unreadable but his eyes betraying a mixture of emotions. It was clear that the sight of you and Yunho together hurt him more than he had expected. Even after all these years, the thought of you being with someone other than him still held the power to inflict pain.

You swallowed hard, your voice failing you in that moment of unexpected confrontation. Yunho, sensing the tension in the air, also turned to face Wooyoung, surprised.

For what felt like an eternity, no one spoke, the weight of the past and the complexity of the present hanging heavily in the air. The reunion you had both feared and secretly hoped for had arrived, but it was nothing like you had imagined.

"I hope I wasn't interrupting anything."

As Wooyoung's voice broke the silence, Yunho slowly pulled his hand away from your back, the comforting touch dissipating like a fading dream. His discomfort mirrored your own, but he was quick to step in, attempting to diffuse the palpable tension in the air.

Yunho let out a slightly nervous laugh, his eyes flickering between you and Wooyoung as he tried to avoid an awkward confrontation.

"Oh, no, not at all," He said with a light chuckle, "We were just discussing some work-related matters. By the way, have you two met?" He then introduced you to each other, acting as if he wasn't aware of your past with the architect.

You and Wooyoung exchanged a polite nod and pleasantries, both of you carefully concealing the history that lay between you. It was an unusual scenario, having to pretend that you were mere acquaintances meeting for the first time, but it seemed like the safest course of action.

Wooyoung's gaze, however, remained intense, as if he was trying to read something in your eyes, searching for a hint of recognition or acknowledgement. But you kept your expression neutral, mirroring his façade of polite professionalism.

As the conversation shifted to work-related topics, you wondered how long this charade could last and what it would mean for your relationship with Wooyoung moving forward. The past was no longer a distant memory but a living presence in your everyday life, and you had to navigate these uncharted waters with care.

For your sake, Yunho kept the conversation short, wrapping it up quickly and informing Wooyoung that you had an important meeting to rush to. It was a graceful exit strategy, and you appreciated his efforts to spare you from the awkward encounter.

With a polite nod, you and Yunho left the pantry, his hand resting lightly on the small of your back as he guided you out. As you walked away, you felt Wooyoung's gaze following your every step. His eyes bore into your back, and you sensed the weight of his unspoken words, the longing that hung in the air.

Once you were out of earshot, Wooyoung let out a quiet sigh, his heart clenching uncomfortably.

The desire to have a proper conversation with you, to ask how you had been for the last six years, to tell you how beautiful you still looked—it all weighed heavily on him. He missed you more than you could ever know, and he regretted the way things had ended between you two all those years ago.

As he watched you and Yunho disappear around the corner, Wooyoung wondered if fate had given him a second chance, a shot at redemption. But he also knew that healing the wounds of the past wouldn't be easy, and he would have to tread carefully to earn your trust once more.

Seven years ago, you had been on the cusp of adulthood, filled with dreams and aspirations for the future.

You and Wooyoung, once inseparable, had shared hopes of achieving those dreams together. But there was an undeniable change in him during your final year in high school, a growing distance that had puzzled and hurt you deeply.

The two of you had been so close, sharing laughter, dreams, and countless secrets. It was a bond that you had believed was unbreakable, forged through years of trust and shared experiences. But as time passed, his warmth and affection started to wane, replaced by an unsettling aloofness.

At first, you had brushed it off, thinking it was just the inevitable growing pains of young love. But the chasm between you continued to widen, bit by bit, like a silent storm on the horizon. You couldn't pinpoint the exact moment when it had all begun to unravel, but you knew something had changed.

It wasn't until graduation day, a day that should have been filled with celebration and joy, that the truth came crashing down.

Wooyoung had taken you aside, away from the cheering crowd and the tearful farewells of your classmates. His eyes, once so warm and full of affection, were distant and cold. The contrast was stark, and it sent a shiver down your spine as you braced yourself for what was to come.

He cleared his throat, the sound hollow in the otherwise bustling background, "Listen," He began, his voice tinged with an unfamiliar detachment, "I think we should break up."

Your heart seemed to stop, the world around you growing hazy as the weight of his words sank in, "Break up?" You repeated the words, your voice barely above a whisper.

His gaze remained fixed on the ground, avoiding your eyes, "Yeah," He replied, his tone lacking the tenderness that had once been so characteristic of him, "I think it's for the best."

A wave of confusion and pain washed over you.

This wasn't the Wooyoung you had known for years, the one who had held you close on countless nights and whispered promises of a shared future. It felt as if a stranger had replaced the person you loved.

"But why?" You managed to find your voice, your heartache now mingling with a growing sense of betrayal.

He sighed, a heavy, burdensome sound, "Look, what we had... it was just puppy love. We're young, and we'll both move on easily. Trust me, it's better this way."

The words stung like a thousand cuts, each syllable a painful reminder of the love that had once bloomed between you, now discarded as if it were nothing more than a passing fancy.

You struggled to hold back tears, your chest tight with the pain of rejection and abandonment.

He never explained why he had grown distant or why he believed it was best to part ways. You were left with a gaping wound in your heart, the questions and doubts haunting you for years to come. You had assumed that he no longer loved you, that perhaps he was just falling out of love with you and didn't know how else to break it to you.

It was a moment etched into your memory, a wound that had never fully healed, and now, as you faced the possibility of a new beginning with Wooyoung at Dreamscape, it cast a long shadow over the uncertain future that lay ahead.

And just when you thought things couldn't get any worse, fate had a knack for throwing curveballs your way.

As you settled into your role and joined a new project team, the shock came when you realised that Wooyoung, of all people, was your project manager. The tension in the room was palpable, and the air seemed to crackle with unresolved emotions.

You did your best to act nonchalant and remain professional as you extended your hand toward him, a forced smile on your lips, "Thank you for welcoming me onto your team, Wooyoung." You said, the words carrying an undertone of politeness and nothing more.

He, too, played his part, shaking your hand and responding with a polite, "Of course, it's good to have you on board."

But beneath the veneer of professionalism, you both understood the complexities of the situation. The unspoken history between you hung in the air like a fragile secret, and you were acutely aware of the need to keep it hidden from your colleagues.

The potential controversy that could arise from your past relationship was something neither of you wanted to invite into your already complicated professional lives.

As the days passed and you and your ex-boyfriend were forced to work closely together on the project, you both made a conscious effort to push all personal feelings aside and focus solely on the task at hand. The office became a battleground of professionalism, where emotions were carefully masked and the past was buried deep.

But for Wooyoung, the facade of indifference and professionalism was a double-edged sword.

He couldn't help but wish that you would at least show some sign of emotion, whether it be unhappiness or anger. At least that would mean you acknowledged the shared history between you both. Instead, your ability to pretend as though there was absolutely nothing between you seemed to hurt him more than he would admit.

In quiet moments, when you both were reviewing project details or in meetings with colleagues, he found himself stealing glances in your direction, searching for any hint of the past in your eyes. He longed for a flicker of recognition, a sign that you remembered the love and pain you had once shared.

But your composure remained unbroken, and it drove a deeper wedge between you.

The silence between you both was deafening, filled with the words left unspoken and the emotions suppressed. It was a silent struggle, each of you grappling with the ghosts of your past and the desire for closure or resolution.

One afternoon, as the project team gathered in a meeting room to discuss the progress so far, Wooyoung was busy fighting an internal battle to keep his emotions in check. It was a challenging day with tight deadlines, and the room buzzed with the collective effort to meet them.

His attention, however, was fixated on you and Jongho.

You both worked exceptionally close together, huddled over a design, reviewing it meticulously. Jongho, known for his professionalism and respectfulness, offered his insights and ideas in a considerate manner, never overstepping boundaries.

But to Wooyoung, it felt like a dagger through his heart.

Irrational jealousy gnawed at him, and his chest tightened uncomfortably at the sight of you working closely with another person, even though he knew it was purely professional. It was a jealousy born of a deep longing and a desire to be the one by your side, sharing those moments of collaboration and connection.

As he observed you and Jongho, his thoughts swirled with frustration and regret. He wished, more than anything, that you would ask him why he had chosen to break up with you all those years ago. At least then, he would finally get the chance to explain his side of the story, to offer the apology he knew you deserved.

But the walls between you both remained stubbornly intact.

The past was a fragile subject, one that neither of you dared to breach. It was a tormenting silence, filled with unspoken words and the desire for resolution, that hung heavily in the room.

Hours later, when you stepped out of the meeting room alone, heading towards the printer to retrieve a few documents, Wooyoung saw it as his chance to finally speak with you. He understood that it wasn't the most professional setting for such a conversation, but he also knew that opportunities like this were rare and precious.

Determined to seize the moment, he discreetly followed you through the quiet corners of the office, his footsteps echoing softly in the empty hallway. When he finally caught up to you, his presence was as sudden as a whispered secret.

You turned, and the surprise on your face was palpable as you realised you were alone with him, far away from the prying eyes of your colleagues. The awkwardness in the air was thick, a stark reminder of the emotional chasm that had grown between you over the years.

Your eyes met briefly, but you immediately looked away, unable to sustain the intensity of the gaze. The silence hung heavy, and it was a stark contrast to the joyful moments you had once shared together.

Wooyoung felt a tightening in his chest as he watched you, noticing how uncomfortable and guarded you appeared.

He missed the days when your smile would light up a room and when you would beam with joy in his presence. The realisation hit him like a wave; he had played a significant role in creating this distance between you both, and there was no one else to blame but himself.

With a deep breath, he knew he had to break the silence, to bridge the gap that had grown between you. But the words remained trapped on his lips, the weight of his unspoken apologies and regrets weighing him down.

Desperate to put some distance between you and your ex, you swiftly collected the papers from the printer, your heart pounding loudly in nervousness. Every instinct told you to walk away, to leave this uncomfortable situation behind, but fate had other plans.

As you moved to exit the area, he intentionally positioned himself in your path, blocking your way.

Your heart sank, and your mind raced with questions.

What could he possibly want from you now, after all these years? He was the one who had left you, who had chosen to end what you once shared. So, why was he suddenly resurfacing in your life?

Sighing deeply, you mustered all the politeness you could, your voice tinged with impatience, "Wooyoung, please, move aside."

But to your surprise and growing discomfort, he refused to budge.

When you attempted to push past him, he shocked you by grabbing your shoulders, his grip firm but not aggressive, making you look into his eyes. His gaze bore into yours, and the intensity of his words sent a shiver down your spine.

"Are you going to act like this forever?" He asked, his voice laced with a mix of frustration and vulnerability, "Like nothing ever happened between us?"

The anger surged within you, a tempest threatening to break free from its confines. With great effort, you fought to keep it in check, a silent reminder that you were at work.

Your jaw clenched, and you met his gaze with a steely resolve.

In a quiet but firm tone, you asked, "How dare you ask me that? Did you forget that you were the one who insisted on there being nothing between us? Don't start acting like I was the one who hurt you."

Pain was etched across Wooyoung's face as he attempted to reach for your hand, a desperate plea for understanding.

His fingers brushed the air as you pulled away, stepping back to put some physical and emotional distance between you both. The tears welling in his eyes were painful to witness, but in that moment, you couldn't bring yourself to comfort him. After all, he was the one who had left you wounded and wondering for years.

With a voice that trembled with regret and sorrow, he began to apologise, his words coming out in a broken tone. He wanted to seize this opportunity to finally reveal why he had grown distant and the circumstances that led to your heartbreaking breakup.

But before he could say more, fate intervened.

Unbeknownst to both of you, Yunho had been passing by and had spotted you cornered by your ex. The uncomfortable expression on your face did not go unnoticed, and Yunho contemplated for a moment before deciding to come to your rescue.

The recruiter approached with a sense of urgency, his voice carrying a tone of concern as he called out your name.

"Hey, I've been looking for you regarding that claim you submitted." He said, creating a plausible excuse related to HR matters. His presence was a welcome distraction, breaking the tense atmosphere that had enveloped you and Wooyoung.

You breathed a sigh of relief, grateful for Yunho's timely intervention. It provided you with an excuse to disengage from the emotionally charged conversation and averted a potentially painful confrontation.

Wooyoung stood there, a mix of frustration and regret swirling within him, as he watched you follow Yunho down the hallway. He cursed himself under his breath, the bitter taste of missed opportunity gnawing at him once again. He knew he had failed to provide you with the explanation and closure you deserved.

With a heavy sigh, he retreated to the bathroom, needing a moment to collect himself. He couldn't shake the feeling of bitterness at your absence, his regret weighing him down as he replayed the missed chance over and over in his mind.

When he returned to the meeting room, he found Jongho still there, diligently working on the project. The expression on his face must have revealed his inner turmoil because the youngest looked up and asked, "Everything okay?"

Wooyoung nodded, forcing a small smile that didn't quite reach his eyes, "Yeah, just some personal matters to attend to." He replied, though he felt a pang of jealousy at how close you seemed to be growing to Yunho.

He knew he had no right to be upset about it.

After all, he was no longer your boyfriend; he was just the douchebag who had hurt you when all you wanted was to be with him.

As he returned to work, he couldn't shake the sense of unease that had settled within him. The encounter with you had opened old wounds and stirred up emotions he had long tried to bury. Now, as he faced the consequences of his past actions, he wondered if there was any hope for redemption and forgiveness at all.

In the days that followed, Wooyoung tried his hardest to find opportunities to speak with you alone. The weight of the unresolved conversation gnawed at him. He knew he had a lot to answer for, and he was determined to make amends.

But it quickly became evident that you were adamant about avoiding him like the plague. You kept your interactions with him strictly professional, speaking to him only when necessary and making a hasty escape from his presence the moment your involvement was no longer required.

It was clear that you had no interest in rekindling any form of personal connection with him.

Recognising the boundaries you had set, he decided to respect your wishes. He understood that he had hurt you deeply, and he had no right to force himself back into your life. The pain of your separation had been his doing, and he couldn't change the past. So, he gave you the space you needed, even if it meant leaving you alone.

As he watched you from a distance, he felt a profound sense of regret and sorrow.

He knew he had made mistakes, and he couldn't undo the past. But perhaps, in time, he could find a way to make amends and rebuild the bridges he had burned. Until then, he would continue to silently bear the weight of his past actions, hoping for a chance at redemption.

Weeks turned into months, and the distance between you remained.

The workplace had its own rhythm, and you both settled into your roles within the company, maintaining a professional demeanour in each other's presence.

He had resigned himself to the fact that you had moved on, and he had no choice but to respect your boundaries. He watched as you thrived in your role, your talent as a graphic designer shining through in your work. It was clear that you had found your place within the company and were flourishing.

In his own way, Wooyoung tried to do the same.

He dedicated himself to his role as an architect, pouring his energy into designing innovative structures and contributing to the company's success. Despite his professional accomplishments, there was an emptiness that lingered, a sense of unfinished business that weighed on his heart.

While you both had managed to coexist in the same workplace without any overt conflicts, there were moments when your paths crossed, and the unspoken history hung heavily in the air.

Each encounter was a reminder of the past, of the love and pain you had once shared.

As time passed, you sometimes wondered if there would ever be a chance for the two of you to find closure. The thought of reopening old wounds was daunting, but you couldn't deny the curiosity about what Wooyoung might have to say after all these years.

The team-building activity at the famous creek retreat on the outskirts of the city had everyone away from the office for a couple of days. It was a chance to bond with colleagues and build better working relationships, but for you and Wooyoung, it meant being stuck in the same van during the journey to the location.

By this point, you had both grown accustomed to each other's presence and the unspoken tension between you.

Wooyoung occupied the front passenger seat, while you ended up sandwiched between Yeosang and Jongho in the middle row. The initial jokes and laughter that had filled the van gradually faded, leaving a comfortable silence in its wake.

As the rhythmic hum of the van's engine filled the air, you succumbed to weariness, your head hanging uncomfortably as you drifted into an unplanned nap.

But your ex couldn't just sit by and do nothing when he noticed your head drooping uncomfortably.

He threw a disapproving glare at Yeosang, who was still awake beside you, gesturing for him to help you find a more comfortable position. Yeosang obeyed instantly, and carefully adjusted your head, allowing you to rest more comfortably.

In a gentle and almost instinctive gesture, Wooyoung removed his own jacket and carefully draped it over your hunched figure.

It was a small act of care and warmth, a reminder of the time when he used to take care of you in more ways than one. In that moment, as you slept soundly, he allowed himself to reminisce about the past and the love that had once bound you together.

The van journey continued, the landscape outside passing by in a blur, while inside, a sense of nostalgia and longing hung in the air, and for Wooyoung, a quiet longing to care for you, even if it was only in these fleeting moments when you were unaware.

Excitement bubbled within you as the van finally arrived at the retreat, and the sight of Yunho waiting for everyone only heightened your anticipation. You rushed up to him with giddy enthusiasm, your energy infectious as you exchanged a high-five with the tall recruiter.

Yunho, always the gentleman, made a move to grab your luggage from the trunk, his intention to help you take it to your room clear in his actions. He smiled warmly, ready to assist you in any way he could. But just as his hand was about to reach your luggage, something unexpected happened.

Wooyoung, who had been observing from a distance, suddenly stepped in and swiftly grabbed your luggage, his actions asserting his presence with a possessive undertone.

You froze, a mix of surprise and discomfort washing over you as you realised what was happening.

It was evident that your ex's possessiveness was beginning to surface, and he muttered under his breath, "I'll do it. She's in my team after all; I should be the one to take care of her."

The unexpected tension between Wooyoung and Yunho escalated as both men refused to back down. You had thought Yunho would step aside amicably, given his typically easygoing nature. But he surprised everyone by firmly gripping the luggage, refusing to let it go.

"No, it's fine," Yunho asserted with a determined look, "I am the one who recruited her, after all. By right, I should be the one taking care of her better than anyone."

The atmosphere grew increasingly charged as the two men seemed locked in a silent standoff, each wanting to assert their claim over the situation and their desire to take care of you.

Sensing the tension, Jongho and Yeosang quickly stepped forward to diffuse the situation.

Jongho, with a playful grin, stepped between Wooyoung and Yunho, pushing them apart gently. He then grabbed your luggage with a confident air, "Oh, step aside, you two. I should be the one to handle the heavy lifting. After all, I'm the youngest and strongest here."

With that, the tension in the air began to dissipate, and you chuckled at the unexpected turn of events.

It seemed that your colleagues had a knack for turning potentially awkward situations into light-hearted moments, reminding everyone that this team-building retreat was meant for bonding and camaraderie.

Wooyoung, realising the embarrassment of his own actions at that moment, decided to feign nonchalance, offering a brief, somewhat awkward smile before he hurried off to settle down in his own room. It was clear that the situation had caught him off guard, and he needed some time to collect his thoughts.

Yunho, on the other hand, walked you to your room.

The earlier tension now replaced by a more relaxed atmosphere.

As you both made your way, you couldn't help but ask Yunho why he had fought back against Wooyoung's attempt to help you with your luggage. He seemed to be struggling to find the right words, and there was a moment of silence before he finally replied.

"I just... wanted to protect you from him."

He admitted, his voice tinged with sincerity. It was a straightforward response, but there was a hint of something more beneath the surface.

You assured him that Wooyoung would never do anything to hurt you, your words meant to put his concerns to rest. But instead of feeling reassured, Yunho felt slightly bitter. It was as if your defence of your ex-boyfriend had struck a chord with him.

Unbeknownst to Yunho, his feelings for you might have been a little more than platonic.

The protective instinct he had shown earlier had surprised even him, leaving him to grapple with emotions he hadn't fully understood or acknowledged. As he stood with you outside your room, a sense of inner turmoil lingered, and the retreat had already taken an unexpected turn for him, one that would leave him questioning his own feelings in the days to come.

The day at the retreat continued with a series of team-building activities and games designed to strengthen your teamwork and bond with your colleagues.

Unfortunately, you found yourself paired with Wooyoung for most of the day, given that you were in the same team. But it was through these games that you began to let your guard down around him, even if it's only just a bit.

As the two of you were selected to represent your team in a treasure hunt, you felt a mix of nerves and excitement. The task ahead required you both to focus solely on the challenge at hand, putting aside any personal history or unresolved feelings.

With a shared goal in mind, you and Wooyoung worked together closely, determined to solve the puzzles and riddles that would lead you closer to the treasure. There was a surprising ease to your interaction and a sense of teamwork that transcended the complicated past you shared.

As you ventured through the retreat grounds, following clues with him, you realised that, for the first time in a long while, you were able to enjoy each other's company without the weight of your history hanging over you. The laughter and excitement that accompanied each discovery allowed you to momentarily forget the tension that had defined your interactions at work.

The treasure hunt had eventually taken you along a winding trail through the retreat's serene surroundings, and as you both took a well-deserved break on one of the wooden benches along the path, a sense of ease settled over you both.

He flashed a mischievous grin, his eyes twinkling with a hint of the playful banter you had once shared.

"You know," He said with mock seriousness, "I thought a decade apart might have improved your riddle-solving abilities, but I guess some things never change."

You scoffed at his comment, leaning back on the wooden bench.

"Oh please," You retorted, a twinkle in your eye, "You should talk, Mr. Impatient. You've always been so quick to jump to conclusions. Remember that time we got stuck in that escape room and you nearly dismantled the whole place trying to find the way out?"

Wooyoung's laughter rang out, and he shook his head, clearly recalling the memory.

"Okay, fair point," He conceded, his expression softening as he allowed himself to reminisce about the past, "But in my defence, I was just trying to impress you with my problem-solving skills."

As your laughter filled the air, he stared at you as if you were the most captivating sight he had ever seen. At that moment, the realisation hit him like a lightning bolt: he missed you like crazy, and he regretted walking away from you all those years ago.

The years apart had allowed Wooyoung to mature and reflect on his actions, and he now understood the depth of his feelings for you.

As he watched you laugh and joke with him, he wondered if there was a chance to make amends, to rebuild what had been lost, and to finally give voice to the apologies and explanations he owed you.

Your ex contemplated using the moment of levity to broach a more serious conversation, to finally address the unresolved issues from your past. He opened his mouth to speak, ready to say those words that had been lingering on his mind for so long, "Listen, I—"

But before he could utter another word, his attempt was abruptly interrupted by the unexpected presence of Yunho.

The recruiter had a knack for appearing at just the wrong times, and this instance was no exception. The recruiter approached you both, his expression was carefully neutral, though an undercurrent of unease flickered in his eyes as he observed the two of you conversing like old friends.

With a teasing grin, Yunho playfully chided, "Excuse me, are you actually slacking off right now?" You immediately sprang to your own defence, "As if! We were just taking a short break!"

The banter between you two becoming second nature.

But Wooyoung's reaction to your interaction with Yunho was far from casual. He couldn't hide his irritation, and his patience had run thin.

In a bold move, he wrapped his fingers around your wrist, a possessive gesture that sent a clear message, "Thank you for your concern, but we have a journey to continue on." With a gentle yet firm tug, he pulled you away from the taller male.

As he led you down the path, his grip on your wrist gradually loosened, and he found himself grappling with the tension that had resurfaced in the wake of Yunho's interruption.

It seemed that the conversation he had hoped to have with you would have to wait for another time, and the retreat had once again taken an unexpected turn, leaving all three of you with unanswered questions and unspoken feelings.

Walking alongside Wooyoung, you were aware of the tension between him and Yunho that had been growing throughout the day, you couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt.

It felt like their constant battles were, in some way, a result of your presence and the unresolved emotions between you and your ex. You wished you could find a way to alleviate the tension and make things easier for everyone involved.

At the same time, you couldn't deny the unexpected warmth that had enveloped you since rekindling your friendship with Wooyoung.

The day had reminded you of how much you missed his goofy personality and his ability to make you laugh. It was a feeling you hadn't fully realised until now, and you wondered how different things might have been if only you had remained friends all these years.

As evening fell and the group gathered for dinner, the atmosphere had mellowed, and you all enjoyed hotpot together.

Wooyoung made it a point to sit beside you, and as he cooked, he paid special attention to preparing your favourite food just the way you liked them. It was a gesture that felt oddly familiar, and for a moment, it transported you back in time. You smiled as you watched him, reminded of how he used to take charge of your meals because he was the better cook between the two of you.

At this moment, with the delicious aroma of the hotpot filling the air and his playful banter accompanying it, it felt as though you were back in those simpler times, a time when your bond was unburdened by the weight of the past.

As the complex dynamics between you, Wooyoung, and Yunho continued to unfold, it became apparent to the rest of your colleagues that something unusual was happening.

Yeosang had taken the opportunity to fill Jongho in on the events that transpired during the car ride to the retreat, explaining how Wooyoung had taken special care of you when you were asleep and how he had displayed a level of familiarity with you that was hard to ignore.

Jongho nodded thoughtfully as he absorbed this information.

"I always thought there was something different about the way Wooyoung hyung looked at her," He remarked, his brow furrowing slightly, "It's almost like they knew each other before coming to work here. And I'm pretty sure Yunho hyung knows something we don't."

Your colleagues might not have the full story, but they were observant enough to sense that there was more to the interactions between the three of you than met the eye.

As the days at the retreat unfolded, Yunho observed the interactions between you and Wooyoung with a quiet demeanour.

He fought hard to maintain a neutral expression, not wanting to reveal any signs of his inner turmoil. Despite his efforts, he couldn't deceive Jongho and Yeosang, who were growing increasingly perceptive to the underlying tension.

The two exchanged knowing glances whenever they noticed Yunho observing the two of you closely. They had their own suspicions about the complicated dynamics at play but chose to remain silent, not wanting to intrude on a situation that seemed to be filled with unspoken emotions and unresolved history.

On one of the restless nights during the retreat, you found yourself tossing and turning in your room, unable to find the peace needed to fall asleep. Frustration mounting, you made the impulsive decision to take a quiet walk around the safe surroundings of the retreat.

The night was serene, and the cool breeze provided a momentary respite from the turmoil of your thoughts.

As you wandered through the moonlit paths, you stumbled upon Wooyoung, sitting alone on one of the benches, gazing up at the vast night sky. His silhouette seemed so familiar yet distant, and you hesitated for a moment, contemplating whether to disturb his solitude.

Just as you turned to leave, he softly called out to you, "Stay with me." His voice carried a pleading whisper. Unable to resist the pull, you retraced your steps and settled down beside him.

Your heart skipped a beat when you felt him lean his head gently on your shoulder. In the silence of the night, the only sounds were the rustling of leaves and the faint chirping of crickets. You could sense the tension and emotions swirling around the two of you.

Breaking the silence, he asked the simple question that had been on his mind, his voice barely above a whisper, "Why are you here?"

You sighed softly, your gaze fixed on the starry sky, "I couldn't sleep," You admitted, your voice equally hushed. He nodded, "Yeah, I'm here for the same reason," You furrowed your brows at the revelation, "Why can't you sleep? You've never been one to suffer from insomnia."

A moment passed before he finally confessed, "Because I can't stop thinking about you."

Your heart raced as Wooyoung moved to take your hands in his, gently turning you to face him. The vulnerability in his eyes was undeniable, and it was clear that he had been waiting for this moment, a moment free from interruptions or distractions.

The weight of unspoken words hung heavily in the air, and you knew that this was the time to finally have that conversation.

He began by addressing the question that had haunted you both for years, "I want to talk about why I grew distant and why I eventually broke up with you back then."

You nodded, your eyes locked onto his, urging him to continue.

He took a deep breath before delving into his past, a past filled with insecurities and misguided advice.

"I spoke to my brother about my dreams, about wanting to become an architect," He explained, his voice tinged with regret, "At the time, my brother was heartbroken from his own breakup, and he... he told me that love would only hold me back from reaching my full potential."

His confession hit you like a wave of emotions.

It was the answer you had longed for, the missing piece of the puzzle that had haunted your memories for years. You listened intently as he continued, his voice trembling with the weight of his confession.

"He told me that if I wanted to be successful in the future, I would have to... to get rid of you."

The revelation was bittersweet.

It was painful to hear that his decision to distance himself from you had been influenced by such misguided advice, but it also provided a semblance of closure, a glimpse into the reasons behind his actions all those years ago.

As you absorbed his words, you felt a mix of emotions—anger, sadness, and, surprisingly, a glimmer of understanding.

Wooyoung's voice was filled with genuine remorse as he continued, "I can't even begin to tell you how sorry I am for everything, for believing my brother's words and letting them dictate my actions. I was such a fool."

You listened intently, your own emotions swirling as he spoke.

"Wooyoung, it was so hard for me too," You admitted softly, "I couldn't understand why you were pulling away, why you seemed so distant. It felt like you were slipping through my fingers."

He lowered his head, his voice trembling as he continued, "I know, and I regret it more than anything. I never wanted to hurt you, but I thought it was the right thing to do at the time."

Tears welled up in your eyes as you reached out to gently touch his cheek, "We were both so young and confused," You whispered, "And we made mistakes. But it's in the past now."

He nodded, his gaze meeting yours once more, "It's taken me so long to realise how wrong I was," He admitted, his voice heavy with regret, "I should have fought for us, not pushed you away."

You gave him a small, understanding smile, "Sometimes we have to go through pain and regrets to truly appreciate what we had. I've learned from it too."

As the night breeze rustled the leaves around you, he took a deep breath, his eyes locked on yours, "Thank you for listening, for giving me a chance to explain," With a heartfelt sigh, you replied, "And thank you for being honest with me. It means a lot."

The weight of the past began to lift, replaced by a sense of understanding and a glimmer of hope for the future.

In that quiet moment beneath the starlit sky, you both realised that perhaps, just perhaps, there was a chance to heal old wounds and build something new together.

After the retreat, life at work settled into a new rhythm.

The weight of the past that had lingered between you and Wooyoung had finally been lifted, and you found yourselves getting along better than ever. The resolution of your past issues created a sense of understanding between you, allowing you both to focus on the present and the potential for a future together.

But Wooyoung knew that winning you back wasn't going to be easy, even with your forgiveness.

He understood that the presence of Yunho, who had inserted himself into your life in various ways, posed a strong competition. Observing Yunho's efforts to be close to you, your ex realised that he needed to step up his game if he didn't want to lose you to his rival.

Wooyoung was determined to show you that he had changed, that he was ready to make amends for the past and fight for a second chance at love. He knew it wouldn't be a simple task, but he was willing to put in the effort, knowing that you were worth every ounce of it.

As the days went by, he subtly began to make his presence felt in your life once more, finding opportunities to spend time with you and rekindle the connection that had once been so strong. He was committed to proving to you that he was ready to be the partner you deserved, hoping that you would see the changes in him and consider giving your relationship another chance.

The weeks leading up to the project deadline had turned into a gruelling and relentless cycle for you and your team. The pressure was relentless, and you had all been caught in a never-ending loop of work, eat, and sleep—or lack thereof.

As a perfectionist, you held yourself to incredibly high standards. You constantly pushed the boundaries of your abilities, striving for perfection in every detail of your work.

This relentless pursuit of excellence had taken a toll on your well-being, particularly your sleep. Your colleagues might have been unaware of the extent of your exhaustion, but you were all too aware of the sacrifices you were making.

One afternoon, during the usual lunch break, the office was quiet and empty as everyone else headed to the cafeteria to grab a meal and a moment of respite.

But you were too exhausted to join them.

Instead, you found yourself unable to stay awake at your desk. The fatigue was overwhelming, and your body finally gave in to the exhaustion that had been building for weeks.

Your head gently slumped onto your folded arms, and your eyes closed as you succumbed to sleep. The hum of the office's air conditioning and the soft ticking of the clock on the wall provided a soothing background to your unintended nap.

Meanwhile, Yunho thought it was unusual not to see you at the cafeteria, especially during these high-pressure days leading up to the project deadline. Concern crept into his mind as he realised that he hadn't seen you taking a break or grabbing a bite to eat like everyone else.

Furrowing his brows, he decided to check around the office, his worry growing as he found no trace of you at your usual spots. He couldn't shake off the feeling that something might be wrong. Maybe you were feeling unwell, or perhaps the stress had finally taken its toll on you.

As he made his way through the quiet office, his steps grew lighter, and his anxiety turned into relief when he finally spotted you.

Yunho's heart swelled with affection and concern as he gazed down at you, fast asleep at your desk. He found you incredibly adorable, even in the midst of exhaustion. However, that adoration was mixed with a deep sense of worry as he realised just how overworked you must be to skip meals and resort to catching sleep at the office.

Kneeling beside you, he couldn't resist the urge to gently push a few stray strands of hair away from your face, his fingers brushing softly against your cheek. He wished he could take away the burden of stress that seemed to weigh you down.

But as he hovered over you, lost in his thoughts, he was abruptly pulled from his reverie when Wooyoung's voice cut through the silence of the office.

"What do you think you're doing?"

Yunho quickly stood up, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment at being caught in such an intimate moment. He cleared his throat, struggling to find an explanation, "I... I was just checking on her. She looked really tired, and I wanted to make sure she was okay."

Wooyoung's expression remained guarded, his eyes fixed on Yunho as if he were assessing his intentions. It was clear that the rivalry between them had not dissipated, and the taller male's actions had not gone unnoticed.

Yunho felt a pang of guilt and self-doubt, wondering whether his concern for you was genuine or if it was fueled by something more complicated. He stepped back, allowing Wooyoung to take the lead, unsure of how to navigate the complex web of emotions that seemed to entangle the three of you.

Flustered, Yunho made a hasty exit from the scene.

He needed a moment to collect himself, to sort through the whirlwind of feelings that had been stirred by the sight of you asleep at your desk. It was undeniable that his concern for you went beyond the boundaries of a typical colleague's care.

As Yunho retreated, Wooyoung took a few steps closer to your desk, his gaze softening as he watched you sleep. The stress and exhaustion that had etched lines of weariness on your face tugged at his heartstrings. He wanted nothing more than to take care of you, to make sure you were comfortable and at ease.

With a tender touch, Wooyoung reached for a container, your favourite meal inside, that he had prepared earlier in the morning. He placed it gently by the side of your desk, ensuring you had something delicious to eat once you woke up.

Then, he unfastened his blazer and carefully draped it over your hunched figure before pressing a small kiss onto your temple. His actions were driven by a desire to keep you warm and snug, to shield you from the chilly air of the office. Watching you sleep so peacefully, he smiled softly.

Beneath that smile lurked a sense of jealousy within him.

Seeing Yunho's concern for you triggered a surge of possessiveness and insecurity that he found hard to ignore. He knew he needed to address these emotions, but for now, his priority was making sure you were taken care of, even if it meant he had to battle his inner demons silently.

After lunch, Yeosang's gentle touch and voice roused you from your slumber, bringing you back to the bustling reality of the office.

As your eyes fluttered open, you immediately noticed Wooyoung's blazer draped over you, providing warmth and comfort. It was a gesture that touched your heart deeply, and a small, contented smile tugged at your lips.

Your gaze shifted to the container of food on your desk, and recognition washed over you. It was unmistakably Wooyoung's signature meal, one he had always lovingly prepared for you during your high school days. The rush of nostalgia and fond memories that accompanied the sight of the familiar dish made your heart flutter.

It was as if he had reached through time to the days when you were a giddy high school girl in love.

But it wasn't just the meal that stirred your emotions.

As you turned your attention to the meeting room, your heart skipped a beat when you locked eyes with your ex-boyfriend.

He looked incredibly handsome, his features refined by the years that had passed since high school. The sight of him reignited a spark of attraction and reminded you of why you had fallen so deeply in love with him all those years ago.

In that moment, the boundaries that had kept your emotions in check began to blur. You couldn't help but feel that maybe, just maybe, there was still a chance for something beautiful to blossom between you and Wooyoung once again.

The day of the final presentation had finally arrived.

It was a crucial moment for your project, and the team had gathered early at the office to prepare for the important meeting with key stakeholders. The atmosphere was tense as everyone fine-tuned their speeches and went over the final details. However, you noticed that Wooyoung was conspicuously absent.

Concern gnawed at you, as this was unlike him.

He was usually punctual and responsible, and even if he were running late, he would have sent a message to keep the team informed. But this time, there was no word from him, and none of your colleagues had heard from him either.

As the minutes ticked by, your worry deepened.

You tried calling him repeatedly, only to be met with his voicemail each time. It was as though he had vanished, and the lack of communication sent a shiver of anxiety down your spine.

Your colleagues attempted to reassure you, telling you that he would likely show up soon and that there was probably a reasonable explanation for his absence. Still, you couldn't shake off the nagging feeling that something was amiss, and your heart sank with every unanswered call.

The postponement of the meeting due to Wooyoung's absence only added to your growing anxiety.

His presence was vital as the project manager, and the fact that he hadn't shown up without any explanation left you deeply worried and on the verge of an emotional breakdown.

Unable to contain your concern any longer, you rushed to Yunho, desperately seeking any information that could help you reach Wooyoung. You needed to find him, to ensure he was safe and to understand why he had disappeared on such an important day.

The recruiter tried to calm you as he quickly accessed the company database to search for your ex's personal details. It was a race against time to locate him, and you clung to the hope that you could reach him soon.

Once Yunho found his home address, you wasted no time.

You packed your belongings in a rush, informing your concerned colleagues that you were going to check on him.

Yunho, worried for your safety given your fragile emotional state, volunteered to accompany you. You agreed, grateful for his support as you went on your mission to find Wooyoung.

The tension in the car was palpable as you and Yunho raced towards Wooyoung's house, your hearts heavy with worry and fear for his safety. But what you encountered on the way was something you never could have anticipated.

As your car approached an accident site at the side of the road, your heart seemed to stop when you recognised the mangled remains of an oddly familiar car.

No... no, it can't be.

Panic surged through you, and you screamed at Yunho to stop the car immediately. He slammed on the brakes, and without a second thought, you flung the car door open and sprinted towards the accident scene.

The crash site was chaos personified, with flashing red and blue lights illuminating the area.

As you approached, your heart pounded in your chest like a drum, and the weight of impending dread pressed down on you like a suffocating blanket.

Tears rolled down your cheeks, blurring your vision, as you attempted to rush past the stern-faced authorities who had already cordoned off the area. Their expressions were unyielding, their voices firm as they insisted on maintaining control of the situation.

"Please, let me through! That's my... my friend's car!"

You cried, your voice cracking with anguish, desperate to get closer to Wooyoung. The police officers held their ground, their solemn expressions a stark contrast to your frantic demeanour.

Your desperation reached a fever pitch as you continued to shout his name, your voice carrying your love, fear, and regret, "Wooyoung! Wooyoung, please be okay! God, I... I love you, okay?!" The words tumbled from your lips, heavy with raw emotion and filled with the agony of knowing you might lose him forever.

But the authorities were unyielding, firmly keeping you at bay, their unspoken message clear: they were doing their best to handle the situation, and your presence was only complicating matters further.

The seconds felt like hours as you stood there, helpless and terrified, hoping against hope that Wooyoung would somehow be okay.

In that moment of heart-wrenching despair, Yunho quickly gathered you into his arms, holding you tightly as your legs gave way beneath you. You clung to him, your sobs wracking your body as you repeated the painful words like a mantra, "I've lost him... I've lost him again..."

Yunho held you close, his own heart heavy with the knowledge that, despite his feelings, in the end, it would always be Wooyoung who occupied the most significant place in your heart. He silently accepted this truth, providing you with a comforting presence as you grieved the possibility of losing someone you still deeply loved.

An authority figure eventually approached you two, asking if you knew the victim.

When you confirmed that you were friends with the victim, a sense of relief washed over her face. She quickly informed you that Wooyoung was in the ambulance receiving immediate medical care, and you clung to that sliver of hope like a drowning person clutching a lifebuoy.

With Yunho's support, they guided you towards the ambulance.

Your heart continued to race with anxiety, a relentless drumbeat of fear echoing in your chest. The relief of knowing he was alive was shadowed by the uncertainty of how badly he might be hurt.

Tears streamed down your face the moment you laid eyes on Wooyoung in the back of the ambulance.

The sight of him, battered and bruised, was almost too much to bear. His face bore a couple of bruises, and you reached out to gently touch his hand, relieved that he was conscious and responsive.

The doctor provided some reassurance, explaining that he had sustained a few broken bones and injuries, but overall, he was in stable condition. But they still needed to transport him to the hospital for a more thorough examination to rule out any internal injuries or bleeding.

Your heart remained heavy, but a glimmer of hope flickered within you as you knew he had made it through the worst part.

As the ambulance set off for the hospital with Wooyoung inside, Yunho quickly contacted someone from work to update everyone about the accident. You sat in the back of the ambulance, clutching Wooyoung's hand tightly, unwilling to let go.

The realisation hit you like a wave – your feelings for him had never truly faded; they had only been buried beneath the surface.

Now, more than ever, you were determined to stay by his side, to support him through his recovery, and to make up for the lost time. The events of the day had rekindled your love for him, stronger than ever before, and you couldn't imagine ever letting him go again.

"Do you know how scared I was, Jung Wooyoung? Don't you dare do that to me again, you hear me?" You whispered in a broken voice.

Despite the pain he must have been in, he smiled and nodded. His hand in yours was a reassuring anchor in the midst of this chaotic situation as he tightened his grip, giving you a comforting squeeze.

"I'm sorry for worrying you. This morning, as I was rushing to work, I hadn't been alert enough to realise a reckless driver was approaching from the side, he ignored the red light and ran straight into my car."

As he explained the accident, your worry for him only intensified, but he managed to inject a bit of humour into the conversation, teasing you about your emotional outburst. Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment, but you smiled back at him.

"Yeah, well, maybe it's about time I said it out loud," You replied, your voice filled with sincerity, "I do love you, Wooyoung. I never stopped, even when I thought I had. It's still you that I want, it will always be you. And I... I don't ever want to lose you again."

"You won't have to. I'm not going anywhere this time, I promise." His eyes locked onto yours, and the two of you shared a moment of understanding, the unspoken feelings finally out in the open.

Wooyoung's heart swelled with joy, a feeling he hadn't experienced in a long time. For years, he had carried the weight of regret and longing for you, unsure if he would ever hear those three words from your lips again.

Now, as he looked into your eyes and heard you say that you loved him, it was as if a heavy burden had been lifted from his chest.

A radiant smile spread across his bruised face, and his eyes sparkled with happiness. It was a smile that spoke of relief, of hope, and of a love that had endured despite the years of separation and heartache. In that moment, he knew that whatever challenges lay ahead, he was willing to face them, because he had the love of his life by his side once again.

The final meeting for the project was a bittersweet moment.

Wooyoung, with his cast on his arm, sat next to you, and the shareholders expressed their relief and sympathy for what had happened to him. The mood in the room was one of gratitude that he had come out of the accident relatively unscathed.

You couldn't help but steal glances at him throughout the meeting, your heart filled with love and concern for his well-being.

As the presentation concluded successfully, you exchanged a subtle, reassuring smile with your boyfriend. It was a silent acknowledgement of the challenges you had overcome together, not just in the project but in your personal lives as well.

The future felt uncertain, but you both knew one thing for sure: you were determined to face it together, hand in hand, and this time, nothing would tear you apart.

The dinner celebration later that night was filled with laughter.

Your colleagues chatted and celebrated the successful completion of the project, unaware of the quiet exchange happening beneath the table. Wooyoung's caring looks and subtle touches spoke volumes, and he couldn't resist the urge to hold your hand, even as you shot him a warning look with wide eyes.

You both knew the importance of keeping your rekindled relationship discreet at work, fearing any potential conflicts of interest. But, at that moment, as your fingers intertwined under the table, you smiled at each other, knowing that your love had found its way back, and this time, it would be even stronger.

Yunho, ever the understanding friend, had come to terms with the reality of your relationship with Wooyoung. He genuinely wished the best for you, even if it meant he had to let go of any romantic hopes he might have had.

He knew that in your eyes, he had always been a close friend and colleague. Nothing more, nothing less.

One afternoon in the office pantry, the recruiter smiled to himself as he discreetly observed the two of you sharing a quiet moment in the pantry, thinking no one else was around. Wooyoung held your hand, and in a daring move, he stole a quick, playful kiss, prompting you to smack his arm in a half-hearted warning.

It was a glimpse of the love and happiness that had found its way back into both of your lives, and Yunho was content knowing that you were where you truly belonged.

A few months passed since Wooyoung's cast had been removed and he had fully recovered, you both found yourselves in a comfortable and loving routine. Although you travelled to work together, you would part ways to enter your respective offices, with your boyfriend taking every opportunity to sneak a kiss onto your face before playfully running away, dodging your affectionate smacks.

The sun streamed through the car windows as you both drove to work together, the atmosphere light and easy. As you approached the office building, he glanced over at you, a playful glint in his eyes.

"You know, babe," He began, his voice warm and teasing, "I've been thinking. We've been keeping our relationship under wraps at work for a while now. And, well, I was wondering if maybe it's time we let everyone know."

You turned to look at him, eyebrows raised in surprise, "Are you serious, Woo?"

He nodded, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips, "Yeah, I mean, we're in different departments anyway. It's not like we're working closely together every day. Plus, I think it's about time our colleagues knew how lucky I am to have you."

You smiled at his words, your heart warming.

"I agree," You replied, reaching over to give his hand a reassuring squeeze, "I think it's a great idea. Let's do it."

He grinned, his eyes sparkling with happiness, "That's my girl. I can't wait to show everyone how amazing you are."

On that memorable morning, the meeting room was filled with an air of curiosity as Wooyoung called your closest colleagues together. You stood nervously at his side, your fingers intertwined with his, feeling a mix of excitement and apprehension. The glances and smiles exchanged between your colleagues only added to your jitters.

With a deep breath, your boyfriend finally spoke up, his voice laced with affection as he raised your intertwined hands, "We thought you guys deserved to know, we're together."

Instead of the expected gasps or exclamations of surprise, mischievous grins and playful amusement greeted his announcement. Yeosang, always quick with a witty remark, responded first, "Okay, and?"

Your brow furrowed in confusion as you glanced around the room, wondering why everyone seemed so unfazed.

Jongho chimed in with a smirk, teasing Wooyoung mercilessly, "Yeah, we know. Literally everyone knows you two are together. You haven't exactly been subtle at all, you know, especially you, Wooyoung hyung."

Your boyfriend's laughter filled the room, and you couldn't help but join in, your cheeks turning a deeper shade of red. You exchanged a sheepish look with him, realising that your relationship had been far less discreet than you thought.

Yeosang playfully rolled his eyes, "Seriously, guys, we've known for ages. You don't have to announce it like it's breaking news."

Jongho continued teasing, "Yeah, and Wooyoung hyung, you've been practically broadcasting it with that lovestruck look on your face every time you're around her."

Wooyoung's grin widened as he glanced at you, affection clear in his eyes, "Well, I can't help it. She's pretty amazing."

Everyone groaned loudly at that, all prepared to witness more public displays of affection at work now that you were both openly together. Pulling you close to him, your boyfriend knew there was one more thing you both needed to do.

With the decision to revisit your hometown and properly introduce each other to your families, the two of you planned a weekend trip back to Ilsan. It was a significant step in your relationship, a journey that held the promise of deeper commitment.

As you packed your bags and prepared for the trip, there was a sense of excitement and anticipation in the air.

This symbolised a beautiful chapter in your relationship, one where you would bridge the gap between your pasts and your future, and where the bonds between you and your families would grow stronger, just as your love had.

As the car journeyed back to Ilsan, the town where your shared childhood memories were embedded, a sense of nostalgia washed over both of you. You gazed out the window, watching familiar landmarks pass by like scenes from an old movie. Wooyoung took notice of the emotions welling up in your eyes as you relived those cherished moments from your past.

Unable to resist, he gently reached for your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. Your eyes met his, and he felt a profound connection to you, one that spanned years and countless memories. Leaning in, he pressed a tender kiss onto the back of your knuckles, his way of silently acknowledging the shared history you both carried.

The journey back to your hometown was a trip down memory lane, a testament to the enduring love you held for each other and the promise of a bright future together.

Visiting Wooyoung's family was a heartwarming experience.

His parents welcomed you with open arms, their smiles radiating warmth and genuine happiness. They had always liked you, even during your younger years, and seeing you back together with their son filled their hearts with joy. They believed that you and Wooyoung made a sweet and perfect couple.

His brother, however, carried a heavy burden of guilt.

He took the two of you aside, his voice filled with remorse as he offered a sincere apology for his role in breaking you apart all those years ago. As you and Wooyoung exchanged a knowing look, you both forgave him wholeheartedly.

You understood that sometimes, people make mistakes, and those mistakes can lead to valuable lessons for everyone involved.

It was a moment of closure and healing for all of you.

Wooyoung's visit to your parents' house, however, was accompanied by a mixture of anticipation and anxiety.

He knew he had deeply hurt you in the past, and the possibility of your parents' disapproval loomed large in his mind. He was prepared to work tirelessly to earn their trust back.

Much to his surprise and relief, your parents welcomed him with open arms. It was a gesture of acceptance he hadn't expected so readily. As he sat down with them, he couldn't help but express his gratitude and curiosity.

"I'm truly grateful for your acceptance," He began, his voice filled with sincerity, "But I have to admit, after everything I put your daughter through, I didn't expect this. Why are you so willing to accept me back into her life?"

Your mother sent him a warm and understanding smile.

"It's clear to us how happy she is with you, Wooyoung-ah. That happiness means the world to us as her parents. Besides, we believe that people can change and grow. We all make mistakes when we're young and foolish, but it's the choices we make now that define us. You have a chance to redeem yourself, and as long as you make our daughter happy and treat her well, that's what truly matters to us."

He couldn't help but feel overwhelmed with gratitude and relief, knowing that he was given a second chance not only with you but also with your supportive and forgiving parents.

It was a moment of redemption and hope for a brighter future together.

After years of deliberately avoiding the annual school reunions to spare yourselves the potential heartache of seeing each other again, this year was different.

You both had finally agreed that it was time to attend the gathering, now that you had found your way back into each other's lives.

In previous years, you had both stayed away from the event, each for your own reasons. It was simply too painful to confront the memories of your past, the love that had once blossomed, and the heartbreak that had followed. But now, after rekindling your relationship, you feel ready to face those memories together.

The decision to attend the reunion was a significant step, one that reflected your newfound confidence in your love and your willingness to embrace your shared history. It was a declaration to yourselves and to everyone who knew you that your bond had not only endured but had also grown stronger over time.

As you both made your way to the reunion, you couldn't help but feel a mixture of anticipation and nostalgia.

It was a chance to reconnect with old friends, relive cherished memories, and show the world that sometimes, love could find its way back, even when all hope seemed lost.

Walking hand in hand into the school reunion together was a statement that no one expected. Your presence together was a surprise to all your old classmates. While you and Wooyoung had been a couple for most of your school years, everyone knew about your painful breakup on graduation day.

The sight of you two together again caught everyone off guard.

Whispers and surprised glances followed you both as you entered the venue. Old friends and classmates couldn't help but comment on how you had reunited, expressing their astonishment at seeing you as a couple once more.

You navigated through the crowd, greeting old friends and engaging in conversations. All the while, there was an undeniable aura of curiosity and intrigue surrounding your relationship.

As the two of you mingled around, you couldn't escape the teasing and playful jabs that came your way. Some of your friends had been firmly on your side during the painful breakup years ago, and now, they couldn't resist taking a few indirect jabs at Wooyoung for the hurt he had caused you.

Amid the laughter and nostalgia, they warned him not to hurt you again, albeit in a lighthearted tone. Before you had a chance to come to his defence, Wooyoung took the initiative to address the elephant in the room.

Surrounded by the chatter of your old friends, he took a deep breath, his eyes fixed on you, and then addressed the group with a touch of nervousness in his voice, "I know you've probably all heard about what happened between us back then, and there's no denying that I messed up big time. I hurt her, and for that, I can't apologise enough."

Your friends and classmates exchanged glances, some nodding in agreement while others waited to hear what he had to say next.

"But today, I want to make a promise, not just to her but to all of you who care about her. I promise that I'll spend the rest of my life making it up to her, showing her the love and respect she deserves." As he spoke, you could see the sincerity in his eyes, and the surprise on the faces of your friends gradually turned into admiration.

"Well, you better keep that promise, Wooyoung. We're all watching, you know!" One of your friends chimed in playfully.

Your boyfriend smiled, "I wouldn't have it any other way. I know I have a lot of work to do, but I'm willing to do whatever it takes."

Another friend added with a smirk, "That's a good start, Wooyoung. Just remember, actions speak louder than words!"

The atmosphere lightened up as everyone joined in with their friendly banter. Wooyoung's heartfelt promise had not only taken you by surprise but had also won over your friends, showing them that he was genuinely committed to making things right.

As you looked at him, your heart swelled with a mix of emotions—forgiveness, hope, and the overwhelming feeling that your love story was finally on the path it was meant to follow.

The reunion had been a whirlwind of laughter, reminiscing, and catching up with old friends.

As the centre of attention, you and Wooyoung found yourselves in the spotlight, surrounded by friends eager to hear your stories and experiences since graduation. It was heartwarming to see familiar faces again, but it also felt overwhelming at times.

In search of a brief escape from the lively atmosphere, you gently tugged his hand, leading him toward a balcony just a few steps away from the bustling hall. The night air was cool and refreshing against your skin, providing a welcome respite from the warmth of the gathering.

Wooyoung willingly followed you, his eyes never leaving your face.

The quietude outside offered a stark contrast to the animated conversations and laughter inside. Out here, the distant sounds of the city were a soothing backdrop to your thoughts.

He wrapped his arms around you, holding you close from behind, his chin resting on your shoulder as you both looked out over the town. You took the chance to speak your mind, still touched by his promise, "You know, what you said back there meant a lot to me, Woo."

"Get used to it, babe. There will be plenty more cheesy words where that came from. I plan to annoy you with them for the rest of your life." You laughed softly, feeling the warmth of his embrace and the love in his words.

"I can't wait for you to annoy me forever."

He finally turned you around in his arms, his gaze softening as he looked into your eyes. His voice was tender as he spoke, "I love you, babe. More than anything."

Before you could respond, his lips found yours in a sweet, gentle kiss. The world around you seemed to fade away as you melted into each other's embrace. It was a kiss filled with all the words you couldn't express, a promise of love, forgiveness, and a future together. The years of longing, the pain of separation, and the joy of rediscovery were all encapsulated in that single kiss.

Tears welled up in your eyes, but they were tears of happiness, gratitude, and the overwhelming feeling that, finally, you were exactly where you were meant to be.

Laughter and catcalls from your friends inside the hall pulled you both back to reality. They hadn't been too discreet about watching your balcony rendezvous.

"Hey, lovebirds! Save the show for later!"

With shared laughter, you pulled away, your hearts full of happiness and gratitude. As you returned to your friends, you couldn't help but feel that your love had come full circle and that this time, it was stronger and more enduring than ever before.

The two of you wore genuine smiles as you demonstrated that love could indeed find its way back, even after years of separation.

Your presence together spoke volumes, reminding everyone that sometimes, love could be rekindled, and old flames could burn brighter than ever before.

I'm realising that my oneshots are gradually getting longer and longer lmao. Anyway, I hope y'all enjoyed this one!

This took me quite some time to finish. I worked on this bit by bit in between breaks from my assignments and thesis, so I do apologise if certain parts might've appeared somewhat awkward(?).

As always, thank you for reading and let me know your thoughts! <3

Tag list: @aurasblue @marievllr-abg @itsvxlentine @minghaoslatina

All Rights Reserved © edenesth // DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, PLAGIARISE OR REPURPOSE.

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Already Gone || MV1 {1}

Pairing: Max Verstappen x spy!fem!reader Summary: You ease yourself into Max's life for a job but find it harder to leave than planned. Warnings: criminal activities WC: 2.6k

F1 Masterlist || One || Two

Formula one wasn’t just an expensive sport to race in but it was first and foremost a lucrative business. With hundreds of millions of dollars being invested each year it was no surprise that your services were sought. 

The hooded figure slid a file across the table, the crumbs and sticky residue of beer catching on the cover. “This is the target,” he whispered over the noise of the drunkards left in the bar at this late hour. “Everything we have on him is in there, use it to get close and get into their factory.”

“Why waste time with a relationship?” you questioned as you opened the file and saw the headshot of your target. Not someone you would call classically handsome but there was an appeal to him nonetheless. “Why don’t I just apply for an entry level job and this will be done in a week?”

“For my employer, this isn’t just about their technology, they want his spirit broken too.” He jabbed an angry finger at the portrait.

“Ah,” you chuckled as you closed the file and slipped it into your handbag before rising from the dark booth, “psychological warfare, that I can understand.”

“How do we reach you again?” the stranger asked as he made to follow but you held your hand out for him to stop.

“You don’t, our contact ends here. You know my fee, and you will know when the job is complete.”

“How?”

You rolled your eyes at the stupid the question. “Front page headline, of course.”

There was no denying Monaco was beautiful, but you missed your high rise apartment in New York. The birds eye view of Central Park had become home and it was where you spent most of your time. Corporate espionage was always in demand on Wall Street so it was convenient to live close by despite owning properties all over the world. 

You had spent a week researching your target, reading every article and watching every interview. You knew his mannerisms and his values, what features his ex-girlfriends all shared and why they broke up. You knew his entire history, all so you could manipulate his future. 

Once you had learned everything there was to know about him you had tracked him down to Monaco where he was spending a large portion of the winter season off. That was where the real work began.

Any wig was irritating, no matter how expensive it was, and this was no different as you suppressed the urge to touch the dried glue along the hairline. Up ahead, the target kept pausing on his walk to sign a few autographs and let children have a photo taken with him. 

Unbeknownst to him, all the posters and adverts along the street had been subtly changed so the models held small semblances to you. He wouldn’t actively notice them, but his subconscious would. Over the next week, his brain would recognise your features selling products he was familiar with and trusted, something you were going to use to your advantage when you finally decided to cross paths with him. 

As midnight passed you took a little stroll through the streets lined with mansions and pulled out a tin of cat food. The crinkling of the foil tearing open broke the relatively quiet night in the exclusive community and a few curious cats appeared through the perfectly trimmed hedges. You softly called two Bengals closer, nudging the others aside, before giving them a scratch behind their ears as you put the tin on the ground and earned their trust too. 

“I have a little friend for you,” you whispered as they finished the food and rubbed against your leg, purring happily. You reached into the pouch of your oversized hoodie and carefully woke the kitten you had adopted. He released a small mew at being disturbed but when he noticed the company around him he started to nuzzle around them. “That’s it, get nice and acquainted.”

The lady at the animal shelter had promised that the little guy had come from a big litter and was very friendly around other cats so you were glad she was right as you picked up the rubbish and tossed it in a nearby bin. Giving the trio one last scratch, you lingered on the tabby with a whisper, “I’ll see you soon, Achilles.”

You left the neighbourhood after slotting a missing cat poster with your phone number into the mailboxes along the street and as the three animals disappeared into the hedge together you hoped it wouldn’t be too long before your phone rang. “Bye Sassy, bye Jimmy.”

You were going out of your mind as you lounged around the house waiting. You checked your phone a handful of times per minute, even testing it was working with your burner phone once an hour. It was only as the sun began to set on the second day that the ringtone sang out over the news channel relaying the latest stock market figures. 

You took a deep breath, falling into the character of your alias as you saw the unknown number on the caller ID. “Hello?” You had to hide your grin as you perfected the balance of worry and hope in your voice.

“Uh, hi, is this Madilyn?” a man asked, the Dutch accent one you were familiar with after all the videos you had watched of him. “Your kitten is missing?”

“That’s me, please tell me you have some good news,” you begged softly, pitifully. 

He laughed quietly and you could hear purring close to the phone. “I think he found his way into my home somehow. He is very friendly.”

“I’m so sorry,” you grabbed your keys and helmet off the kitchen side, slamming the door loudly as you left. “We just moved here and I must have left a window open. Where are you so I can come and pick him up?”

He gave you his address and you rushed to thank him before ending the call and throwing your leg over the motorbike you had recently brought, all added to the bill of your latest employer. The roar of the engine drew the attention of the pedestrians out for an evening walk as you raced through the narrow streets and you arrived in his neighbourhood in under a minute.

The wrought iron gate was closed when you pulled up but the front curtain inside the mansion swayed as a dark figure peeked out before it started to swing open. 

By the time you pulled your helmet off and hung it on the handlebars he had already opened the door and you skipped up the steps excited by the sight of Achilles tucked in the crook of his arm. Lights from inside the home spilled out onto the front porch as Jimmy and Sassy padded their way out, brushing up against your shins.

“He looks so cosy,” you said sheepishly as you went to reach for the sleeping Achilles only to pause and pull back. “I’m sorry, I didn’t get your name.” 

“Max.” He offered his hand instead and you shook it weakly before crouching down to pet his cats. “They like you.”

“The feeling is mutual,” you said with a smile as you looked up at him and found him staring back intently. “Do I have helmet hair?”

You rushed to your feet, brushing down the strands that might have been messed up and windblown but he shook his head with a small smile. “You look familiar, have we met?”

You stepped closer with a small shake of your head and ran your fingers through Achilles fur, your arm brushing against Max innocently. His eyes followed your touch and you could see him taking the bait like a starving fish, not knowing how close he was to the hook.

“I would definitely remember meeting you,” you said as you caught your bottom lip between your teeth. 

He cleared his throat and tore his eyes away only for them to land on your motorbike. “Is that a Softail?”

“He has a good eye,” you praised as he recognised the same model Harley Davidson as the one he owned. “Do you ride?”

“Not as much as I would like. Unfortunately my one is back home in the Netherlands.”

“I owe you for finding Achilles.” You pulled the key from your leather jacket and dangled it in front of him with a grin, the silver keyring twinkling and catching his attention. He eyed up the figurine of the Trojian Horse, an inside joke you liked to use when on mission because the meaning always went over their heads. “Wanna take her for a spin?”

His hesitancy lasted only a split second since the conditioning of trust that had been instilled subconsciously all week quickly told him there was nothing to worry about. 

He looked down at his casual shirt and shorts he wore, clothes definitely not suitable for riding a motorcycle, before stepping back inside. “Would you like to come in?”

Max didn’t know the mistake he just made or the real reason you smiled the way you did as you stepped over the threshold, your body brushing close to his.

He was already gone: hook, line and sinker, he was yours.

Four Months Later The coffee pot was almost empty and your eyes were bleary as you sat on the sofa watching the live feed on your laptop for the fourth straight hour. The video footage was being recorded as it played and you already had sent a thumb drive full of similar files with the parts and manufacturing plans you had stolen on your last visit with Max to the Red Bull factory in England. This next one should be ready to send in the morning.

It hadn’t been difficult to organise a ‘work’ trip to London during the time Max was going to test some new features they were working on and he practically begged you to visit him since it wasn’t far to Milton Keynes where they were based. You wanted to hate him for making it too easy, for being too trusting and too kind. 

You wanted to hate him for making you feel guilty.

You lived for this job, playing mastermind and dancing the moral lines, and you were very good at it. The world was your stage while you got to write the play, direct the show and be whatever character you wanted to be. But more often than not you found yourself forgetting to be ‘Madilyn’ when you were with Max and realised at some point you were able to be yourself. 

It was a problem, and one you didn’t know how to solve.

That was a lie. You could take the thumb drive down to the post shop and send it before disappearing into the night. Job done, problem solved.

But that would mean never seeing Max again and the truth was you weren’t ready for that.

Achilles padded into the living room and jumped onto your lap, purring as he nudged your hand for a pat. “Don’t get too comfortable, this is just a temporary arrangement,” you said as you scratched his neck. “You wouldn’t like New York anyway. The air smells, the people are rude and there’s no Sassy or Jimmy to play with.”

You were going to miss Monaco when it came time to leave. Everyone had been so friendly and welcoming to this stranger, if only they knew the havoc you had come to wreak on their city.

Your doorbell suddenly rang and you swiped your phone off the coffee table to open the app and saw Max on your front step. You had specifically told him that you were feeling sick so he didn’t come around. He had a race this week and shouldn’t have been taking the risk of going near anyone sick but there he was, a bag of takeaways in his hands.

You cursed to yourself as you closed your laptop and went to open the door just a crack. “Max? What are you doing here?” you asked with a rasping voice. 

He pushed the door open wider and stepped inside, aiming to kiss you but you turned your head away so his lips landed on your cheek. 

“I’m sick, you shouldn’t be here. You could catch it too.”

“I don’t care.” He placed the bag on the hall table so his hands were free to cup your face, holding you still as he greeted you with a proper kiss. It was impossible to resist him and your lips parted as you grabbed his jacket and pulled him closer.

He was far too responsible as he stopped you from unbuttoning his shirt, though he didn’t seem too pleased about stopping you from taking things further. “Eat first,” he ordered, placing one hand on the small of your back and the other grabbing the food. 

Max’s season had been off to a terrible start with a third place podium the best he had been able to achieve behind the Ferrari’s who had come back strongly from last year's poor result. The journalists called it a miracle - that the Italian team were able to produce a car to rival Red Bull’s - but really it wasn’t quite that unexplainable. They had inside information thanks to you. 

Despite the stress in his life and the pressure he was feeling from his father to push harder, he still found time for you and a part of you resented him for that, for making it harder to complete the job.

Your laptop on the coffee table kept drawing your attention as you sat down with the chicken noodle soup Max had brought. It was like a ticking time bomb that you couldn’t ignore and everytime Max’s hand passed over it to get a napkin or the remote you felt your heartbeat in your throat. If he opened the lid he would see something you couldn’t explain away so you needed to get him away from it for your own sanity.

“I’m really tired, babe,” you lied as you faked a yawn and Max checked his watch with a frown when he saw how early it was. 

“Maybe we should see a doctor,” he suggested as he pressed his hand to your forehead and mistook the clammy heat as a fever, but it was purely from the stress you were under watching him reach over your laptop yet again for his can of Red Bull.

“A bit of rest is all I need. You don’t need to worry about me, you should be worrying about your race.” You shifted on the couch to face him and saw how relaxed he was with his arm draped across the back of your cushion and Achilles curled up on his lap. “How are you planning on beating Ferrari?”

He shrugged and focused on scratching the tabby between the shoulder blades. “I’ll get the most I can out of the car and it will either be enough to win or it won’t. I can only try my best and avoid making mistakes.”

You curled into his side, hiding your guilty face in his neck as his arm closed around you. “I’m sorry,” you whispered your confession.

“Why?” he laughed softly, “it’s not your fault.”

If only he knew. 

But he could never know.

Click here for part two.

[obsessedwithspiderman2099]

Wisteria

Part three

Pairings: Miguel O’Hara x fem!reader

Word count: 1,168

Synopsis: Someone has been running laps around Miguel’s mind.

“Where’s Miguel???”

This had been the question all week long in the spider society. After ten pm he was gone. For other spiders, this was a normal if not longer time to leave work. But for Miguel, the workaholic rarely left his office. No one could successfully kick him out, not even Lyla. But for some reason ever since he stopped that lizard anomaly from Earth 1829, something about him has been different..

Jess was the first to clock it when she actually saw a smile form on his face. “Something’s up.” She told Lyla. “With Miguel?” “Who else? He’s been leaving at a normal time and hasn’t been frowning as much as he usually does.” Lyla thought for a moment about it, “you know I have been seeing him a little bit happier lately…”

She immediately began pulling up his files and stalking through them. Her yellow skin got brighter for a second when she found the reason.

“Aha!” She said, fishing out a tiny imaginary digital file and pulling it up.

“About two nights ago, he walked this woman, y/n l/n, home to her apartment after successfully taking down an anomaly that was in her area. He met her again last night to walk her home, which is probably the cause!”

They both looked at each other for a second.

“You don’t think he’s….” “No! I’ve never seen him like that before..” “Maybe she and he…-“

“Maybe who and I what.”

The two froze and turned around, Miguel right beside them now. His mask was off, with an eyebrow raised and the usual grumpy expression was looking at them.

“Miguel! We were just talking about work-“ “So who’s y/n?” Lyla asked, almost casually.

Although he didn’t move or seem surprised by the question, a small hint of blush formed on his tan skin. Jess noticed it immediately, but kept the thought to herself.

“She’s a citizen I was helping yesterday.” “And the day before? Sooo what’s up with that?” Lyla says, poking at the already annoyed bear.

“Lyla. Stop. It’s none of your business, I was just helping her.” He then turned to Jess, “It’s not yours either.” “Sorry, I guess I’ll get back to work.” Jess raised her arms up in defense, and left the two alone.

“Riiiiight, so why’d you go back.”

Lyla continued, making Miguel roll his eyes at her in annoyance. “She said she walks home every night, I was just being Spider-Man and walked her home.” “So why didn’t you just give her a taser and call it a day?” “Lyla, I'm not having this talk with you.” He said, and tried to shoo her away, but she went through his hand, staying in her spot around his shoulder now.

“Are you hiding something Miguel?” “No.”

“Then why does it look ,Ike you got sunburnt on your face.” “What? It doesn’t! Ugh- I’m not talking about this anymore.” He stormed off, slamming the door to his office on the way in.

“He’s definitely hiding something.” Lyla said to herself before glitching off, away to deal with something else.

Miguel stood in his office, looking at different screens.

With anomalies always appearing in different earths, there was always trouble to deal with everywhere. Checking multiple earths through the screens, he accidentally (completely purposefully) checks yours. Seeing nothing but semi empty streets lightly peppered with the usual purple flowers, he becomes curious.

What are you doing right now?

Probably in the book store helping with someone, or just being the kind person you were, but what? He wondered, subconsciously checking on more of your world. He didn’t know the Spider-Man who ran it, but after checking his files and the footage of him, he didn’t need to.

Although being presented and acting like an eco-friendly and caring hero, the man was really an arrogant and selfish person. After watching some interviews and reading his canon events, Miguel was already sick of the man. Working with the largest corporations in your earth to actually go against the climate instead of helping protect it like he promised and ignoring the people he was supposed to be saving, Spider-Man 1829 was a villain.

Miguel scoffed at the news, of course it had to be your universe. Of course that kind of ‘hero’ had to be protecting your earth.

He soon fell down a well of his own thoughts, not noticing Lyla popping up next to him until she spoke up.

“Still thinking about that woman?” She asked, propped up on a tiny digital yellow chair the same size as her.

Miguel jumped ( his non-existent spidey sense was always a huge help), “What? No!” “Then why’s her earth's footage covering your screens?” A smug smile plastered on her face, knowing she caught him red handed.

He grumbled, taking it off the yellow holographic screens.

“Anything else you have to say?” “Nope!”

And with that, she popped into thin air, leaving the already tired and annoyed Spider-Man even more in the regular feeling she had while working. He sighed, pinching the brick of his nose.

“Why did I program her like that??”

This was a question he repeated regularly.

Suddenly a message signaling the presence of an anomaly in a different earth showed up, prompting Miguel to go on a mission. He sighed, and turned his mask back on, covering his tan and tired face. He was back in the game.

After two more annoyingly difficult missions, Miguel was back sitting in his office.

Running a hand through his hair, he checked the clock. 9:48. His heart skipped a beat, knowing it was almost time to see you again. He stopped for a minute.

Wait. Why’d he have that reaction?

He barely knew you, and this was just him doing Spider-Man work. Right? Regardless, Miguel stood up and began to push the coordinates of your world onto his goober. After stepping into the brightly colored portal that appeared in front of him and going through the time tubes to your world, he landed on the familiar concrete.

Immediately clocking the rain that was pouring down, he sighed and quickly went back to hq to find an umbrella for you. Just in case. Miguel fished one out of the corner of his office, and continued on his plan.

He entered earth 1829 once again, and read his clock. 9:57. Looking down from the top of the building he landed on, he noticed the dimly lit lights of your bookstore still on. He remembered you mentioning your interest in books, and complaining about the screens that people were beginning to turn to instead of reading a physical copy. Miguel admired your love for literature and the earth, something he never really stopped liking either.

Again lost in thoughts surrounding you, he didn’t realize it was closing time until you were locking the front door of the shop. A smile emerged on his face under the mask he wore, watching you for a second. You were wearing nothing but a small shirt and shorts, clearly not knowing the heavy weather that would ensure. Freezing in the wet cold air that cling to you, he swung down to meet you.

“Hey.” He said, standing on the pavement suddenly next to you with the umbrella in hand, You turn to him, a smile he could look at for days on your almost ethereal face.

“You’re back.”

A/N: Oh em gee. My first story done!!! I wasn’t sure if I wanted to end it early or what, but let me know if I should make a part four! My requests are also open for the moment so make sure to give me any ideas y’all are thinking! Thanks for reading!!!

[protagsbf]

hi can i request

coworker x reader hc:the reader who is good at a lot of things so their only flaws that they are very clumsy and shy.

head over heels for you! (literally..)

coworker x gn!reader, normal au : hcs + scenario

— suddenly getting thrown into a completely new workplace, you can't help but stress. luckily, your new coworker's here to help you out of your shell!

an: first request yayyyyy!! school starts next month BUT I PROMISE TO STAY LOCKED IN POOKIES also thank you for the request anon (´◡`) also im basing this off my case of shyness because idk i can!! AND YES GUYS YOU CAN CLAIM EMOJIS FOR YOURSELVES HEHEHEHE

picture this: you, the person who'd trip over their shoelaces, misplace at least half of their things, and practically break into a cold sweat when a stranger talks to you, go a job at a major corporation!

you honestly don't even understand how you made it past the interview (or how you got one in the first place...) but now you're here, sitting at a cubicle with a stack of paperwork that needs to be done.

but with your exceptional performance from your past jobs, you at least got put in a cubicle near the breakroom, which is where you'd hide yourself away during breaks so no one would come up and talk to you. it wasn't that you hated everyone in the workplace or anything, you just didn't know how to strike up a conversation without making you look like a complete idiot.

though one day, you found yourself stuck on a piece of a paperwork for a project. it needed a signature from a superior, whoever that may be.

now, were you going to walk up to someone, tap their shoulder, and ask who you need to ask to sign the papers? of course not. no way in HELL you're doing all that.

and that's why you're here now, wandering the hallway as people brush your shoulders with no clue of where you're going or who you need to see. soon, you found yourself nervously standing in front of an office, ' ████ executive' engraved on a metal plate on the door. surely this guy's signature would be enough, right?

after a quiet knock to their door and a somewhat loud "come in!" came from the inside, you hesitantly opened the door, walking into the office. you were met with a man sitting at his desk, pushing a burnt cigarette into the ash tray on his desk. he had blond hair and wore a green suit, nothing you hadn't really seen in an office like this.

to break the awkward silence in the room, you tried to small talk with him for a bit, and damn did he talk a lot. wanting to get out of the interaction as soon as possible, you mentioned the papers and walked closer to hold them out to him. he waved his hand dismissively, telling you to just leave it there. you nodded, putting the documents down before turning to leave.

yet, just as everything was going well, you tripped on seemingly nothing and fell face first onto the carpet. you groaned quietly in pain, quickly getting up. shit, shit, shit, you probably looked so stupid in front of that guy! before he could say anything, you practically dashed out of his office.

a few days went by, and you couldn't help but constantly think back to how you tripped on your way out of an executive's office, praying he'd forget.

though... turns out you weren't so lucky.

you tapped your foot repeatedly against the breakroom's carpeted floor, waiting for the coffee machine to finish. as much as you wanted to forget it, your brain seemed to enjoy tormenting you as it never let you forget that vivid moment of you tripping in front of possibly one of your superior's faces, then running away before anything else could happen. he probably thought you were some sort of weirdo! who even does that?! what if he—

"ah, there you are! took me long enough to figure out which department you were from."

a shiver was sent down your spine as footsteps approached, that voice being all too familiar. you then felt a hand pat your shoulder from behind.

"so, you're the one who handed me those papers, right?"

"yeah..?"

"so, this is your guys breakroom, huh? it doesn't even have a television? no wonder people who work here are so depressed.." the blond commented, looking around the room.

you had to restrain yourself from rolling your eyes. was this guy actually being serious? wait— why was he even here??

"by the way, how's that forehead of yours? you took quite the fall the last time i saw you!" he laughed, leaning against the wall as you took your mug of coffee from the machine. what were you supposed to say? i mean, your forehead was fine, at the very least.

"oh, uhm.. it's okay. thank you for the concern."

"hah, good to know! if it were anyone else, an incident like that would've scared anyone into never showing their face again!" he suddenly ruffled your hair, catching you by surprise. "y'know, i've heard people talk about you a lot. you sound pretty good for a newbie, despite you not being one for words. i'm looking forward to working with you!" that statement couldn't help but make you smile for a little.

you and him talked for a little longer before he made his leave, patting you on the back and saying he'll catch you later. even if he had been the one doing most of the talking, he still managed to make you feel all light and bubbly. like all your worries had been lifted off your shoulders in those few moments the two of you exchanged words.

maybe working in this company wouldn't be so bad.

ever since then, he'd often drop by the breakroom to chat with you. he even invited you for smoke breaks with him! (even if you don't smoke, he'd drag you with him anyway.)

when you asked him how he has so much free time to spend with you, he'd always find a way to dismiss the matter.

he'd also often help you when talking to others when he could. needed to send a request to another department? he'll send it for you. have a meeting you really don't want to attend? you're suddenly not required to attend anymore.

your tendencies of clumsiness never seemed to end, yet he found it endearing regardless. he'd often offer to carry your stuff and even replace the things you break. no matter how much you tell him he should stop or he doesn't have to, he still does it, he was just so persistent, maybe even a little stubborn. even when he'd take you out (as a friendly gesture to a coworker, as he says), he'd always offer to be the one to talk to the employees and cashiers of the stores and cafés.

no matter how much you fell, he'd always be there to catch you.

soo....... this ended up WAY longer than i expected. oops. i mean its still KINDA short but shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh... anyways, i really hope i did your request justice!!!!!!! its kinda sloppy considering i wrote this in a day or two butttttt i feel like i pooped out as much as i could for this and i really wanted to post it already auduiaodsohsahosdo IM GONNA GO WORK ON THE OTHER ASKS NOW ILY GUYS BYEEEE!!!!!!!!!!! ^^

[yridenergyridenergy]

On the eve of the seven-year mark for this account, let's address the biggest hate point about me: how I insist that people either ask before, come and say thanks, simply link to or credit this page when they share/repost the content.

Even if I manage to convince a handful of peopIe, I will continually have to argue and work with people on this because it's not inherent. For example, I come from an online community where, decades ago, we were shocked when we learned that Japanese artists were mad that some people had simply copied and pasted their fanart. It's obvious when you stop to put yourself in their shoes, but for a lot of people, it takes some personal effort to accept the realization that: "Oh okay, I see where you're coming from." In no way am I comparing fanart with most of my content, as artists deserve a ton more praise, but the concept of being grateful for where you got stuff and not simply saving and reposting stuff is the same. And guess what? People outside of that aforementioned community, and even probably newcomers to that community, are still sharing uncredited fanart. It's not inherent, I get it.

For almost seven years, I have posted twice daily, at least, and this requires quite a lot of budget, time, innovation and effort. And absolutely, the content comes from the band themselves, I'm not the photographer(s), the live show recorders, the interviewers, etc. However, you also wouldn't have that GIF, JPG, etc. if it wasn't for me. I do it to share the love, the passion. If I don't mention the source in my post, then it's either directly cited on the picture or the band has not mentioned the source either, like for memocas.

Also, each perpetrator thinks of themselves individually, but imagine my perspective too: it's not just one, but dozens of people who keep reposting my content to their own crowd of followers without any context. When you don't mention a source and just display new content out of nowhere, you are indeed claiming it as if you were the benefactor.

So, am I fighting for the "clout" or whatever? Well, maybe in the same capacity as those people are clearly attracted to. Whether we are or not, it's just about the principle behind the whole situation that reposting is not the proper way to show that you are grateful about something. Unless it came from a robot or some big corporation without feelings or humanity. If you don't wish to interact and ask permission or say thanks at all, let alone like or reblog on Tumblr, then the least you can do is to mention where you found stuff. To whom you owe the pleasure of having seen that content and being able to share it.

And it's so stupid because on Twitter, for example, you benefit from 280 characters now, plus a link gives a preview of the images that are on the landing site. There is zero excuse for not mentioning your source right there in the post where you repost an image (or screenshots of a translated interview, mindblowingly enough), in addition to whatever small comment you want to make regarding the content, instead of in a subsequent reply that nobody will bother to check.

A lot of people will still disagree on this and hate me, and that's fine. If you don't like me, then don't engage with what I share, because that's just hypocritical. This really shouldn't be that controversial, it's just that your feathers are temporarily ruffled. People added watermarks on their GIFs and scans etc. way before I did.

And the descent from "Please credit if you repost" to "Do not repost" came because people didn't do even that anyway. But if someone comes to ask me if they can nevertheless, I'm super likely to say 'yes'.

At the end of the day, I want to keep this blog positive, I want to foster a good environment to lift people's mood day by day. We have enough bullshit in our lives. I've heard of the Dir en grey community being toxic at probably more than one stage of its existence, but hopefully we can keep avoiding that.

As for me, I am eternally grateful to those who keep up with my apparently insufferable self.

[alwaysthefool]

Melting (like an Ice Cream) Part 1

Tags: Fluff, Reader is a bit over-enthusiastic, gender neutral

Warnings: unemployment mention lol, ultra embarrassing reader like 2000s rom com protagonist level embarrassing

Synopsis: You don’t want to lose your job as Chuuya’s assistant because it pays well. Multi part.

Chuuya sighed as he looked down at the document assigning him a new secretary after he rejected the previous few. He simply didn’t want one, but it was mandated for someone at his position. Plus, Mori wanted him to have a reduced workload. Considering Chuuya was too busy to attend the interview process, Mori personally selected whoever was most ‘enthusiastic’ rather than someone with experience or qualifications.

And that person was you.

Green but willing to do whatever to make this job stay. You were told your boss was a little cold and transferred others who were under him. It was stupid to take a job in the mafia but the current employment situation left you no choice. The pay was really good, and it wasn’t like you’d have to off people, at least that’s what the job description said. You just had to make reports, and help out the guy who did off people— one Chuuya Nakahara, and that too in the office. *

“This is going to be a piece of cake!” You chimed as you entered the Mori Corporation building, a very sophisticated mafia front business dealing with shipping ‘items’ overseas. You stood out like a sore thumb with a bright face as you swiped your employee card to enter the elevator area, pushing the button and greeting everyone there. Your previous job taught you to be nice to everyone because you never knew when you’d need someone’s help, but looking at how no one returned your greetings, you felt like perhaps it had the opposite effect here. You stared down at the document you prepared, reading your new boss’ schedule, wondering if you should’ve gotten him and his team coffee since you were early anyway and he didn’t have anything in store for the day.

As you reached your floor, you felt like people made snide remarks right as you stepped out the elevator. Hopefully it was just your imagination. You walked to the executive’s room, knocking on the door.

“Come in.” His sharp voice echoed.

You took a deep breath, put on your most professional smile, and opened the door, cheerfully introducing yourself. He looked up, a little surprised, then looked down again. “What are you so happy about?” He mumbled. Is everyone at this place this way?

Still, that wasn’t enough to set you off. “Is there anything I can help you with, sir?”

“Chuuya’s fine. Do whatever you want, just get off my ass.”

You blinked at his words, excusing yourself as you exited the room and made your way to the adjoining office where you found a few people working away on files. Oddly, there were no windows, and the lighting was too dim, despite which a blonde woman wearing sunglasses typed away rapidly. You sat on the desk beside her, where a note was left for you telling you to take the day off.

“But it’s my first day?” You spoke out loud.

The blonde woman beside you stopped typing, making the room eerily silent and said “You must be Nakahara’s new assistant. Well, enjoy your week off.”

“Wait, what?”

“He doesn’t really need- well, want an assistant but the boss’ wants him to try them for at least a week. They- well, you will be let off with a week’s pay.”

You couldn’t accept that. You needed that job, even without insurance, the pay was too good to pass up.

I just have to prove myself as an indispensable employee so Chuuya can’t fire me!

You devised your plan as you introduced yourself to the blonde woman named Higuchi, who too had a strict boss but somehow still held her job. “Miss, do you know which car belongs to Mr. Na- Chuuya?”

“Oh, you’ll know when you see it.”

You looked at the schedule and rushed downstairs, again greeting everyone on the elevator to no response. You ran out when you reached the lobby, greeting an old man at the entrance gate, who actually greeted you back.

It didn’t take long to find Chuuya’s car. A mahogany sports car, with a foreign number plate and tinted glasses, no car being parked near it. You walked to it and looked under it, checking it for explosives and the like, just stuff you’d seen in action movies.

“What the fuck are you doing?” A sudden, irritated voice spoke from behind you.

“Checking your car for explosives?”

Chuuya sighed, pinching his nose bridge. “Headache in the morning.” He spoke under his breath, probably to not let you hear him, but you did as even his whispers were just naturally loud.

“Uh, sir-“

“Chuuya’s fine.” He repeated.

“Let me open the door, so if there’s an explosive, it doesn’t detonate on you.”

He rolled his eyes, holding your arm lightly to move you away. “All the more reason for me to open it.” He pressed a button on the keys he was holding, and the door opened upwards, in true sports car fashion. Before getting in the car, he looked to you and said “Look, I’m sorry for being rude in the morning. I’m just tired of… I don’t need an assistant. You can spend the week at home and you’ll be compensated for it. I checked your records, you’ve never been in an organisation like this before, right? Trust me, you don’t want to be here. Just go.”

He didn’t meet your eyes, but bowed politely and got in. You moved further back to let his car go.

Your new boss actually seemed nice, but seeing the job market, you did want to be there. No where else would hire someone with your experience, references, and grades at an actually liveable price. Even if you transferred to other jobs in the mafia, you didn’t think you’d be able to handle the field work they do. Accounts, budgeting, making spreadsheets and schedules, planning meetings, picking up someone’s laundry or morning coffee— that was fine by you. So you slowly walked back up, using the stairs this time so as to not meet anyone, going back to your cubicle beside the blonde woman who was still typing away rapidly.

Everyone around you was too busy to engage in conversation, and you wondered what you could do. Maybe meet with the people who hired you in the first place to ask them for— no, they were literal gang bosses, you reminded yourself. You stood up and went to Chuuya’s office, which you were given keys to.

Maybe I can clean up?

You hoped dusting didn’t count as snooping. You pulled your sleeves up and started cleaning the windows with a dust cloth you obtained from the janitorial closet. You dusted the curtains, vacuumed the carpet, wiped the table, even removed the cobwebs from the corners of the room. There was nothing more to do except organising the files, but you also didn’t want to be yelled at. You looked outside the window, watching clouds cover the city skies.

Did Chuuya have an umbrella?

You luckily carried one in your bag, owing to the unpredictable weather of the summer months. You went down, waiting at the parking lot. Sure, doing so much looked pathetic but being unemployed was even worse. As it started raining, you opened the umbrella and wondered what more you could do.

Luckily, Chuuya’s car arrived soon, speeding too fast for that weather. You rushed to his door with the umbrella.

“What the fuck?” He seemed confused at you holding the umbrella over him as he opened his door.

“Um, I didn’t think you had an umbrella?”

“I don’t need one. You use it.”

You watched in awe as he pushed past you again, the raindrops gravitating off him. Of course. Why didn’t you think of that?

You followed him, leaving your umbrella in the holder at the entrance. People stopped to bow at him as he walked past, and even greeted him at the elevator. It was then that you realised respect at the port didn’t come from being polite and making connections, but the kind of work you did. You had to take the same approach to get Chuuya to not fire you too.

You rushed out the elevator and opened his office door for him, which made him chuckle a little. “I should be opening the door for you, don’t you think?”

Everything he said was just so charming, almost kind. At the same time, he just seemed so intimidating and unapproachable. Something out of a dream.

You were lost in your thoughts and did not reply, or even notice his reaction to his office. At that moment, where he just stared in silence, you felt terror overcome you. What if he assassinated you there and then because you cleaned his room a little? What if the mafia executed in their style on the assumption of you being a spy?

“Hey, you cleaned up my office. Looks good.” He spoke unexpectedly, handing you his coat. You took it and hung it on a rack.

“Thank you, so much.” You were breathless. “I didn’t touch the files or cabinets because-“

“No need’ta be so nervous.” He seemed more friendly than he was in the morning. “You did good. You can organise the cabinets if ya want.”

Everything was too surprising. You wanted to be a strong employee and butter him up a bit more, but everything felt overwhelming. “Should I get you coffee?”

“No, I’m good with wine.” You resisted the urge to ask what he was doing drinking so early as he poured himself a glass. You were about to leave when he asked you something that would be the start of both your lives changing.

“Hey, would you like a glass?”

[david-talks-sw]

No, George Lucas is not a "traitor"

You may have seen angry tweets and thumbnails such as these, in the last few days.

Context - Disney is going through a proxy battle, and George Lucas sent out a statement that read as follows:

So immediately, all the grifting influencers who based their entire platform around the narrative that "Kathleen Kennedy & Disney betrayed Lucas' legacy" banded together and agreed that the new line was:

"Fuck George Lucas, he betrayed us and betrayed himself. Lucas sided with his own abusers!"

Here's why this line of thought is absolutely childish and uninformed.

1- Get real, he's a shareholder, of course he'll say this.

I don't need to expand on this, do I?

He owns stock. Someone threatens your money, you defend the money. The question becomes: why does he think that sticking with Disney CEO Bob Iger will result in more profit than siding with?

Variety theorizes that it may be because Nelson Peltz has admitted that he has no media experience. 

And if that's the case? I'm not surprised at all, because...

2- George has always hated amateur studio execs

The following is me simplifying a lot... but George's relationship with studios has never been a good one.

When he was working at American Zoetrope, with Francis Ford Coppola, they were commissioned to adapt George's short film into a feature, THX-1138. The studio execs didn't like it and forced Francis to refund them the money (which is why he agreed to direct The Godfather, to get out of debt).

Moving on to American Graffiti (1973). When George writes Graffiti, he shops it around to studios and they all essentially told him to go fuck himself.

"American Graffiti went around to every single studio twice and they all said, "It's not a movie, there's no story, and there are no movie stars in it." And Star Wars— it was, "What in the world is this? Wookiees and robots? I don't get it." [...] It'd be hard to make a movie [like American Graffiti or Star Wars] today in the system because all these middle management people get in there and interfere in the process. I think that's much worse for filmmakers than it's ever been in the past." - Star Wars Insider #43, 1999

Except Universal. But throughout the process they're being irritants.

They object to the title because they don't know what it means.

The president is convinced it's a bad movie to a point where when he sees audiences cheer for it in test screenings, he argues they're paid actors.

They force Lucas to trim 5 minutes out of the film. Why? Just because.

This approach the studio execs were taking comes from the fact that none of them were artists. At this point in time, studios had been and were being bought by corporations who thought they could make a quick buck in the movie business.

Eg: Warner Bros wasn't run by the Warner brothers anymore. Paramount was now a subsidiary of Gulf+Western.

So when he's receiving notes, they're coming from - you guessed it - amateurs who think they know what they're talking about, but in reality have no clue. They did market research and think they know everything.

This subject is covered in The Offer (2022), a series about the making of The Godfather (reeeeally good show, I watched it twice).

In this scene, for example, you have a studio exec with no artistic sense whatsoever trying to tell Coppola which poster he should go with, and you get the idea of what I mean.

(Fun fact, a young George Lucas even makes a cameo in the pilot episode, in Coppola's office.)

George also went into this subject during his 2015 interview with Charlie Rose.

It's a 4-minute clip, so here's the relevant bit:

"[Big corporations are] known for being risk averse. And movies are not risk averse. Every single movie is a risk, a big risk, like... The movie business is exactly like professional gambling... except you hire the gambler. You use some crazy kid with long hair, you give him $100 million and you say "go to the tables and come back with $500 million." That is a risk! Now, the studios have been going to think of it that way, they say: "well, maybe if we told him that he couldn't bet on red, maybe if we told him because we did market research and we've realized that red wasn't" -- so they tried minimize their risk. [...] They're basically corporate types. They think-- some of the worst things happens when they think they know how to do it, then they start making decisions that ensure it's not going to work. " - Charlie Rose, CBS This Morning, 2015

Now, ironically, this is the same interview in which he compared Disney to "white slavers", but clearly he was still smarting from his own ideas for the Sequels having been ignored.

But considering how little a fuck he gave about those Star Wars films once they came out and how often he visits the now visits sets of like Ahsoka and The Mandalorian, I think he's over it.

Again, this doesn't align with some Star Wars influencers' narrative that "he's fuming, he hates these movies, he feels betrayed and angry!" But if you ask me, he likely couldn't care less, and dubbing Disney his "abusers" is giving them waaay too much credit.

He made his movies, told the story he needed to tell and is now probably just enjoying his retirement, raising his daughter and putting together his museum, part of which is possible because of the money Disney keeps generating for him, as an investor.

So it doesn't surprise me one bit that George Lucas, of all people, to side with the Devil he knows rather than the amateur exec, because the latter is a painful road he knows all too well.

[abbysimsfun]

Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 55 (Major Mom Guilt)

Heather waited to tell Malcolm about Ash's accident until they returned from the hospital the next morning. She usually texted, but this time she phoned.

She fidgeted through several anxious rings before he picked up. "You never call. What's going on?"

Her heart jumped into her throat. "It's Ash," she choked out. "He's okay, but he...he had an accident."

"What kind of accident?" Malcolm surprised himself with how quickly he lost track of his surroundings, toppling a stack of papers he'd been meaning to ask someone to file for over a week. "Where is he?"

"He's at home. He was playing at daycare yesterday and hit his head, but doctors cleared and discharged him this morning."

Malcolm was quiet. "Why didn't you call me last night?"

"It wasn't on purpose. I couldn't think straight about anything. It was late when the doctor said he'd be fine, so Conrad and I stayed at the hospital all night and we got back five minutes ago."

"I...I had an interview but I'll get one of the other reporters to cover it. I want to come see him."

Heather didn't expect Nancy and Malcolm to drop everything and drive all the way from San Myshuno, but later that day they came to see for themselves that Ash was okay.

He'd been cheerful and talkative before they arrived. But in front of his father and grandmother he whined about his head and said he was hungry, even though he'd just eaten.

Nancy chastised Heather while she and Conrad tried to make dinner. "He doesn't eat. He spends all day at a cut-rate daycare in this half-baked town that almost left us planning a funeral, and you work all day, every day, at the clinic you love so much. Maybe if you cut the asparagus spears smaller, Ash could eat them."

"He eats," Heather insisted. "He's testing boundaries and he knows you and Malcolm will both give him what he wants if he whines."

"My son and I discussed transferring him to a private preschool in the city on the way here. They're much more exclusive and have better childhood educators than the glorified nannies at his little daycare."

"They need the same qualifications in Brindleton Bay as they do in San Myshuno," interjected Conrad, continuing the meal as Heather's stress level forced her to temporarily step away from her knives. "It was an accident."

Nancy ignored him. She liked Conrad a lot less now that he was with Heather, but she didn't have it in her heart to hate him outright. "We started the application but we can't submit it without your signature," she said, placing the coiled booklet on the kitchen table in front of Heather. "We think it would be good for his education."

Heather said nothing, getting up to check the food Conrad had placed on the stove while he tidied the kitchen.

Malcolm could feel the tension when he came down the stairs. "Ash went down a lot easier than he does at the penthouse."

"Thanks for helping get him back to sleep. The hospital bed wasn't the most comfortable for him," said Heather. She braced herself, glancing at the onions she was chopping to add to the meal. "Did you and Nancy want to stay for dinner?"

Malcolm shook his head. "I'm glad to know he's okay, but we should head back. My mother can still make her corporate ski trip in Mount Komorebi if we get on the Simmerloop before rush hour."

He glanced at the table and spotted the half-completed preschool application. He looked up again to find Heather studying his expression.

"What are you thinking, Malcolm?"

He glanced between his mother and his ex, both headstrong in their own ways. "I want what's best for my son."

Heather waited until he left with his mother before she tossed out the application with the trash.

"I swear I could fight her, but I feel horrible enough already."

"I know she's...intense. But I think she's as shocked as you are," said Conrad.

"Nancy has a right to be upset? I have a right to be upset!"

"Of course you do! I just mean, don't pick a fight with her over the application. It's gone now, right? Hopefully she'll calm down and won't bring it up again."

Heather scowled. "Private preschool! The second Nancy gets her hands on my son's education, she'll ship him off to boarding school in Champs les Sims, just like his father. I'll never allow it!"

"I love you, and I'm only saying this because I love you, but maybe Ash needs to go back to his old daycare. It was a freak accident, no one's fault."

"They weren't watching him!"

"They were, but they looked away for one second. Do you know how many cases I've dealt with where something happened in the blink of an eye that changed everything? Ash is lucky, but you can't dwell on what might have been."

"I'll take him to work with me for a while, until I know Dr. Serra was right and he's okay. He loves the animals."

Conrad shook his head. "It's not going to be stimulating enough for him and you know that. And you can't do your best work watching him over your shoulder all day."

"I have to keep him safe!"

"You do keep him safe. No one keeps him safer than you, but if you hold on too tight now you'll end up holding on too tight forever. Like Nancy."

That was all she needed to hear to force her to swallow her pride. Despite her fears after his accident, she knew he needed to spend his days with kids his own age and made plans to send him back to daycare.

Heather's busy work life would continue to compete with the needs of her family, but she was determined to find a way to manage both. ->

<- Previous Chapter | Gen 2 Start | Gen 1 Summary | Gen 1 Start

[urbancripple]

Originally wrote this for disability awareness month but since this is apparently disability pride month, I feel like applies:

It’s Disability Awareness Month. The time of year where corporations post about all the ways they support the disabled community while fighting legal action against their inaccessible website. Where people talk about how much they support their disabled relatives while actively voting against their interests and well‐being.

All of that shit aside, I can’t deny how much laws like the ADA have had a positive impact on my life and how much disability representation and media has improved since I was a kid. But, as a wheelchair user, there’s one question I just can’t seem to answer: if we’ve made so much progress, where the fuck is everybody?

Everywhere I go, every store I enter, every bus I ride, every job I’ve had—why am I the only person (below retirement age and that isn’t homeless) in a wheelchair in the whole fucking place? Where the fuck is everybody?

I mean, can you imagine how weird that feels? Imagine if everywhere you went, you were the only man in the place. Seriously, think about it. Go to the gym? No guys. Grocery store? Ladies as far as the eye can see. Job interviews? Bus rides? Swimming pools? Every once and a while you’ll be at a bar and someone will come up to you and say something like “Hey! My cousin’s a man! Do you guys know each other? Yeah, they got in an accident when he was 20. Drunk driver dude‐ed them from the waste down. Crazy stuff.”

It gets so bad that you can put “look for the man” in the delivery instructions when you order pizza at the bar and they always find you. And when you do actually see another man in public, it’s so shocking that you can’t help but stare. What impact would that have on how you perceive yourself? How would you feel whenever you went out in public? Would you feel welcome? Accepted? Safe?

999 out of a 1000 times I go out, I am literally the only person in a wheelchair that doesn’t have a “spare any change?” sign in front of them. It’s boggles my mind how people can talk about “disability awareness” when no one seems to notice that a huge group of disabled people seem to have gone missing from daily public life!

Here’s what I think happened: laws like the ADA made things accessible but they never really made things equitable. It’s like how you can call a chicken “cage free” if you let it walk around, but still keep it indoors. Grab bars, IEPs, and elevators don’t change the job market in a small town. No amount of accessibility is going to cut the price of getting a car modified. If the cheapest apartments in town are too small or too old for a wheelchair user to live in, they might as well not exist.

Ramps and wide doors won’t fix an economic system designed to exclude anyone who doesn’t have access to 5 senses and four limbs. Until we start focusing on economic accessibility instead of just physical accessibility, a large portion of disabled folk are going to remain missing.