#im so sorry if you actually read through all this lmao

[atoriv-art]

Heeyyy so sorry if this has been asked before buuuttttt.. What are ur thoughts on the sand siblings?

this made me realize i didnt include their rs in the chart i posted REST ASSURED I LOVE THEM. anyway hehehe :3

a lot of my takes on them are headcanon-based (like even more than the hyugas id say) But i assume thats what people r here for anyway. Sooooo

i really like the suna siblings bc their relationship pre-chunin exams is very, like… dysfunctional, but at the same time stable? temari and kankuro are obviously afraid of their brother, and gaara is deeply unhappy around them, but they've all clearly found a "safe" position to exist in yk?

my read on those positions is that temari actually feels more conflicted about gaara than you would think — she's the oldest and therefore the one most aware of how 'wrong' their family is — but she puts her and kankuro's safety first, therefore she resorts to appeasing gaara and generally staying out of his way. kankuro is more of a show-off and while he is afraid of gaara, it's in a more grounded way, if that makes sense? he taunts him like one might taunt an angry dog, he's afraid of him because of what he can do, vs temari who dreads being around him because she's aware of what gaara carries on his shoulders and Represents

i actually 👉👈 have a suna family-centered fic i've been slowly working on 👉👈 that ive been too shy to mention on main LMAO but since we are on topic here u go [link]. it's yashamaru-focused (my WIFE) but it brushes upon the entire family :3 it'll be slow to update since i've been busy with things but if u don't mind that. i mention it here since i use the extrapolations im mentioning here to write it….

aaaanyway. the kids' relationship with rasa isn't very defined (esp for kankuro and temari) but i interpret their situation as the classic… yk, father lost his soul after the mother died sort of thing. it's a bit cliche but it makes sense LOL while the only kid we know for sure rasa was cruel towards is gaara i don't find it a stretch to expand it towards the other two, even if it wasn't as extreme.

so, with that in mind: my personal interpretation is that temari — in addition to getting the usual heir responsibilities — got put into a caretaker role for kankuro, pushing her towards cynicism and self-preservation above all else (she's also the one most likely to remember their mom, and an early loss like that can push one into hyper-independence), while kankuro was left with a bit less pressure but as a tradeoff grew hungry for acknowledgement, eventually feeding into him becoming a bit of a bully as he gets older. i think he was the one with the most... "normal" relationship with their father, but i wouldn't necessarily say that's a good thing lol

gaara is in a unique position because he was not fully raised by rasa, and his relationship with him is a lot more shallow and extreme as a result. instead gaara ended up being built into who he is almost exclusively through yashamaru's kindness and subsequent betrayal — and this is only accentuated imo by the fact that gaara does not (iirc?) at any point willingly bring up yashamaru. he badmouths his father and blames him for who he is, but the formative moments of gaara's childhood that we see are of him with his uncle. isn't that interesting? to me it reads like that's still a wound so deep he can't even bear to acknowledge it; rasa treats him like a monster so gaara is free to spit poison back at him in return, but gaara did wholeheartedly believe his uncle loved him at a point, and the idea that he did not was so world-shattering that he can't even bring himself to acknowledge his existence

all that being said, gaara as we meet him in the exams treats his siblings like strangers and i can't fully blame him for that; while the compounded traumas of 1. losing their mother and 2. the shift in rasa's disposition, cannot be understated, i think what truly "broke" the siblings' dynamic is the way gaara was likely forced into kankuro and temari's lives after yashamaru died. while they'd certainly met before, there's a world of difference between knowing you have a distant, troubled younger brother vs having that brother violently placed into your home in his most vulnerable state after another familial loss.

(yashamaru's rs with his other niblings is never really touched upon but i do think about it often. he was so close to their mom i doubt they had no relationship at all! but that's. you know. what the fic i mentioned is for.)

it inherently puts the kids into an adversarial position, especially with how rasa doesn't try to argue for gaara's humanity. so gaara, freshly traumatized and distrusting, is met with siblings who are terrified of him and a father who he knows wants him dead. to make things worse, yashamaru (my king.) made sure to crush whatever goodwill gaara still had towards the world before he died, so there's no part of him willing to give anyone the benefit of the doubt. no one has any interest in fixing this situation so this is the dynamic they settle into.

yet! they are still family and there are certainly glimpses of that. one of my favorite moments is temari looking out for gaara for, in our pov, the first time

it's really simple but it always gets an emotion out of me, it's why i think their relationship bothered her the most… one of my biggest gripes with the suna siblings is honestly that we just don't get a lot of them after a point! i would have loved to see them getting closer after gaara takes the first step in closing the distance.

kazekage retrieval arc is easily one of my favorite arcs in naruto it's soooo sweet to see kankuro and temari fighting so so hard for their baby :( i really like the quiet moments where you can tell there's still a lot of guilt over how things were, i wish we got to sit with it a little more because part of the reason i like their bond so much is because of those moments of doubt, you know? i think it's far more powerful for gaara to wonder if he's been fully forgiven, for temari to grapple with the guilt of not having been a good sister to him, than for them to easily slip into a healthy and stable dynamic as a trio.

how do they feel about their father? their mother? how do they feel about their uncle? they are three different people with similar but not identical experiences with all of them, and it makes you wonder how they might navigate unpacking all of that while not jeopardizing their fledgling bond. for example i'm personally a huge fan of gaara coming to view his uncle in an imperfect but ultimately empathetic light, while his siblings see little reason to extend him so much grace.

their personalities in shippuden make a lot of sense to me taking their upbringings into account too; kankuro and temari are predominantly rasa's children, and therefore have rougher edges and are way more averse to earnest displays of affection. gaara meanwhile had yashamaru's influence in his formative years; he knows how to articulate his emotions and acknowledges the importance of sincerity and kindness. i dunno if this was intentional but i think it's a neat detail!

soo much of the suna family follows this pattern of love breeding resentment (rasa's love towards karura breeding resentment against gaara, yashamaru's love towards karura breeding resentment against gaara and rasa, gaara's love towards his uncle being twisted into hatred against the world, the siblings' love for each other being corrupted then saved) it's sooo. chef's kiss. again my only complaint is that we don't see more of them. literally who cares about konoha i want to be in suna forever

[shroomerr]

Dude! Please I gotta hear more about your little lady 🤲

☆ Is there someone your OC didn’t like at first, but then got along with later?

☆ Who would your OC say is their best friend?

Dude !!! Always happy to see you in my inbox 🫶 ahh thank you sm for the enthusiasm!!

oh man these are some hard questions!! im still trying to figure out the characterization for some of them, so the dynamics might be subject to change. Regardless, oh boy you might have to brace yourself for this one, I fear it's going to be long......... (i havent written it yet but im going to preemptively cut just in case)

☆ Is there someone your OC didn’t like at first, but then got along with later?

that someone is Craig!! He wouldn't like Hanh at first because she's often involved with the M4's shenanigans, and assumed she was either a. a wimpy pushover because of her shy nature or b. just as bad as them lmao. On the other end, Hanh thought that Craig was nothing but a troublemaker with how often he got sent to the Principal's office and assumed he was a meanie with how often he'd clash with her friends. She'd misinterpret his direct and pragmatic comments as being malicious, and while she does agree with a lot of his points, she thinks that his words could use more tact.

However, over time they'd both realize that they had misconceptions about each other: Hanh would come to realize that Craig's reasons for being sent to the principal's office is usually never on purpose or for malicious reasons, and that he never actively looked for trouble. That, and that most of the time, his criticisms towards her friends were completely justified LMAOO. Meanwhile, Craig would find out that Hanh's not as much of a pushover as he thought she was, and that she reprimands the M4 just as much as he does.

which, segues nicely into:

☆ Who would your OC say is their best friend?

also Craig!!!

After they get over that little hurdle, they come to learn a lot from each other! I imagine that Hanh would often give Craig advice on how to talk to Tweek, esp when it comes to the more emotional situations where Craig's more prone to problem solve, and over time he'd learn how to be gentler and kinder in general! On the flipside, Craig would teach Hanh how to be more confident in herself by getting her to be more direct. Craig's honesty is also something Hanh will always appreciate, because it's something she can always rely on without second guessing herself or look for any double meanings. She can always reliably trust that his monotone and deadpan ass will always tell her the truth.

I imagine Craig would ask Hanh what she sees in Stan's gang, only for her to reply with "they make me laugh."

I kind of headcanon that Craig to be this super tall, stoic, kind of intimidating (mostly thanks to his height) kinda guy that people are kinda scared of and avoid. In reality, he's just as much of a loser as any other guy. And with Hanh being short af (standing at a whopping 153cm/5 foot), I think it's a pretty funny visual contrast lol, especially with their very differing personalities (imagine that one picture of the guy going "someone will die" and the other person going "of fun!" thats them)

I also love the headcanon of Craig having braces, so I wanted both of them to share the pain of wearing braces together!! I imagine Hanh being self conscious of having to come to school with braces. She'd probably get a bit of teasing, but then lo and behold: Craig Tucker with braces, to which no one has the balls to say anything about it because he can and would fuck you up (i mean he boxed tweek after all!!). So, by proxy, no one made fun of Hanh for her braces either! Anyways they bond over shared pain and the wires tightening their teeth <3

oh and he also taught her how to flip people off and swear at people lol. the guys made a bet to see who could get Hanh to swear (bonus points if she flipped someone off) and he was the one who ended up winning 30$ that day.

Now, this is where I predict it's going to be long because Craig's not her only best friend: there's also Stan, Kyle, Kenny, and Wendy!!

For Kyle,

They both respect each other a lot! Him and Hanh both have very strong moral compasses, and often times they'll find themselves on the same side and agreeing with each other on a lot of things, seeing as they're both very compassionate and caring people.

Although she's usually non-confrontational, whenever it involves Hanh's friends getting hurt unjustifiably, it's like there's a switch that gets flipped. She'll turn a complete 180 and make sure whatever needs to be done gets done (even if it means getting into a fight), which is something Kyle really appreciates about her. Especially if it's moments where she'll defend Kyle from Cartman's comments that go too far. If there was to be anyone he'd have a lot of respect for and find to be on equal footing with (other than maybe Stan and Wendy), it would be Hanh.

Similarly to Craig, I imagine that Kyle would try his best to help build Hanh's assertiveness and support her in her studies, and Hanh would in turn help keep Kyle's cool and give him advice on how to manage his emotions. They've both got each others' backs, essentially.

Whenever Hanh falls asleep in class due to staying up late, Kyle will often take notes for her

I think she'd also help Kyle be a little less uptight at times. Granted, she's guilty of this too and is often very prone to overthinking/freaking out, where just one thing going wrong in her schedule could derail her whole day. Despite this, she also has a very silly, goofy and happy-go-lucky side to her, so whenever that comes out it helps him loosen up a bit haha

They're also both the most studious out of Stan's gang, so they often do study sessions together. There's definitely a very small rivalry between them (which is completely one-sided on Kyle's side, btw. I imagine that he's at least the littlest bit competitive over grades, but Hanh does not give a fuck lmao). Sheila loves it when she comes over. Most of the moms, actually. They think Hanh's the right influence the boys need to balance out their stupidity lol

Speaking of stupidity, they're the most likely to take the responsibility of making sure their group doesn't get hurt/into trouble. Sometimes, it's just Kyle (though those moments are rare). And smetimes, it's just Hanh who takes on the role of the girl who's surrounded by a bunch of idiotic, immature guys, lol. Even Kyle can sometimes be susceptible to "boys will be boys," guys.

She also adores Ike! Hanh loves reading bedtime stories to him and playing Minecraft with both brothers! So that's bonus points in Kyle's book. Hilariously, I think it would be the funniest thing if Kyle was just terrible at Minecraft, so both Hanh and Ike would just dunk on him for being bad at the game HAHAHA

theyre both level 106 in hay day

I think Hanh would also really trust Kyle's judgement. He's not the smartest kid in class for nothing, after all. I'm imagining moments where if she's ever skeptical on joining on one of the M4's escapades, usually all she needs is Kyle's approval before begrudgingly sighing and tagging along HAHA

He's also much bossier than she is, so she's ok with just passively and silently following orders from him (from the others too, but Kyle's especially because of what I said above). Though, the same goes for Kyle as well: He trusts Hanh just as much as she trusts him, even if he doesn't actively show it.

They're both incredible yappers, Kyle moreso than her. Though, she doesn't mind taking on the listener role that much.

Both of them would also relate to kind of being the "outcasts" in the sense that they're always missing out on the thing that's mainstream (see: Kyle always being late to the Chinpokomon trend and him going against the metrosexual trend, etc.). I think it'd be the funniest thing too if both of them didn't know how to dap people LMAOOOO so they just spend a whole evening practicing how to dap each other up, only to realize that they can't even get a good dap up because both of their hands have hand sizes that are too different from one another.

I also think it would be super cute if they bonded over their "weird" lunchbox foods (on days where they don't buy from the cafeteria). Totally not me projecting my second generation immigrant experiences.

oh and he's the type to hug her right after a basketball practice: sweat and all. very gross, as intended.

As for Stan,

they'd bond over hating their dads, lol

Because both Stan and Hanh are very emotional people, they have a very close bond, often feeling like they're the only ones who can understand each other. They'd both be able to vent to each other about school, their issues, their depression, etc.

They also both get to see each other in their cringiest phases: for Stan, it was his goth phase, and for Hanh it was her weeb phase LMAOOO (they both tease each other about it constantly since they've both seen each other at their lowests and they know they're both losers anyway)

Speaking of goth phase, Hanh helps him paint his nails black!! he reluctantly asked for her advice because she has a lot of experience painting nails (thanks to her mom working at a nail salon), and she decided she needed to take it upon herself to teach him how to apply it the nail polish cleanly LMAO

They're both also very creative!! Hanh will often go over to Stan's house where they just hang out in each other's presence, where Stan's working on a new song and Hanh's just doodling something. Sometimes she'll use Stan as pose reference.

Stan would teach Hanh how to play some of his favorite board games (albeit with a lot of struggle), and she'd give him tips on how to better paint his Warhammer figurines.

both of them are also hoarders, lol

I also headcanon Stan as being pretty chronically online, so doomscrolling, on discord, the whole package. On late nights when Hanh's writing an essay that's due the next day, she'll often text/call him on discord because she knows he'd be awake super late.

THE BIGGEST CRIMSON DAWN FAN!!! absolutely gives her 100% when it comes to supporting his artistic endeavours, and also thinks his music and the concept of being in a band is just the coolest thing in the world.

Always sending each other new songs that they like, even if they both have vastly different tastes haha

Her and Kyle often have studying sessions along with Stan (and sometimes Kenny if he decides to tag along) where they both struggle to teach these two lol

Stan's more of a listener than a yapper, but they both have long back and forths. He prefers to be the listener more often though.

And then Kenny, oh sweet Kenny.

Hanh always tries to include Kenny in the conversation, because she notices how often he gets left out and she knows what it's like to feel left out!! it sucks!! It's something he always appreciates a lot about her

And despite being a huge yapper, Hanh always makes sure to get Kenny's input and encourages him to talk more! Especially when it comes to his own issues, because she notices that he often keeps his problems to himself and internalizes all of it, and she wants him to know that she can someone he can lean on.

He also makes her laugh the hardest. And she hates that she laughs at everything he says because sometimes it's the stupidest shit ever LOLL especially if it's stupid perverted jokes

Loves loves loves Karen. Absolutely adores her presence and often encourages Kenny to let her tag along so they can hang out!

Hanh's also a huge gift-giver, and she'll often bake stuff for her friends, but she always gives Kenny more to take home!

Always her treat when they go out to eat! Especially when it's Kenny, it's not something she wants to make a big deal out of. It's never out of pity, and it's always just because she loves sharing food with her friends! Sometimes she'll even pack extra in her lunch to share with him.

Calls Kenny "Princess" even outside of the Stick Of Truth larping game they play, because it's cute!!

Both Kenny and Hanh are very selfless and kind people, and it's something they appreciate about the other.

And then finally there's my girl, Wendy!!

Something something, girls with black hair who can fuck up cartman gotta stick together.

I don't think Wendy and Hanh would be as close as the other boys, but there's definitely a strong bond between the two, for a lot of the same reasons as Kyle.

Wendy's a girls' girl!! So of course it's only natural. Lots of bonding over feminism and the likes. Y'know, just girl things <3

Wendy would be the one to teach Hanh how to do stuff like makeup along with Bebe.

Ahhh I need to think more about their dynamic, especially she's my favorite girl in the show!! Even if they don't always have the same interests, one thing's for sure: they've always got each others' backs!!

This is also just a general thing that Hanh does, but she loves being physically affectionate with her friends!! So expect a lot of handholding and hugs for everyone! (which ends up leading to a lot of funny mutual pining shenanigans lmao)

[themyscirah]

Okay so basically the United States MINT of all people is going to be working with DC to make a line of coins! These coins sadly won't be in circulation (the things I would do to live in a world where I could get Batman coins from the supermarket) as they're collectors coins, but will be releasing over the course of the next 3 years, 2025-2027.

Designs haven't been released yet (the same is true for all 2025 designs) but we know there will be 9 coins in total (3 each year) with the first year featuring (of course!!!) Superman, Batman, and Wonder Woman.

Although we know the first three heroes to be featured, the remaining six have yet to be decided, and it turns out the Mint is putting out a survey on their site to gauge which of a group of culturally significant heroes people want to see most! (link to the form is mentioned in the article above)

The considered group includes: Supergirl, the Flash, Green Arrow, Black Canary, Captain Marvel, John Stewart GL, Aquaman, Hawkman, Jamie Reyes BB, Robin (Damian?), Cyborg, and Batgirl, of which 6 will be selected.

As someone who does a bit of coin collecting myself (mainly circulation coins like the quarters sets, but I also have a couple proof and collectors coins) I think this is a really cool and interesting idea that showcases the history of the comics medium and these characters and their influence on American culture. Really excited to wait and see what the designs look like for the coins already announced!

[gyuswhore]

Grease (the tragedy)

“Careful, those marks on the floor aren’t just oil and paint.”

jeon wonwoo x reader

word count: 5.8k

warnings: smut [minors DNI], fluff, angst, mechanic!wonu, annoyances to lovers, blind date gone wrong but then gone right, kissing, clit stuff, oral (f. rec), thigh fucking (oop), this all happens at a desk LMAO, title is a what I thought was a funny spin on how people say "grease (the musical)"....has nothing to do with the musical though but lots to do with actual grease!!!

synopsis: In which you have to sit through one of the worst dates of your life, followed by the insistent tug of fate and compulsion that lead you straight back to where you'd sworn you'd never go.

[a/n]: HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY WIFE CAMOTHY @highvern everyone go say happy birthday to cam or ill appear in your room at night 🔫 anygays HAVE FUN READING THIS I hope this is all the sexy wonu content you wanted, I cant wait for your reaction hehehhehe

and also bigbigbigbig thank you to jessifer @the-boy-meets-evil for proofing this for me!!! ily heh

and and to everyone reading this who is not cam, I hope you enjoy reading mechanic!wonu as much as I liked writing him heheh PLS REMEMBER TO REBLOG AND TELL ME UR THOTS it could be in the tags, replies, an ask literally anything!!!! id love to hear what you guys think!!!!

masterlist

 [You]: do you think he died on the way [Liv]: hes still not there??? [You]: what do you think????? [Liv]: let me ask Amelia [You]: dont bother [You]: he can show up whenever he wants im leaving in 5 [Liv]: you promised you’d sit thru this!! [You]: sit thru what? an empty seat across from me???

Liv doesn’t respond immediately, and you immediately know she’s buggered off to ask her cousin why your date still wasn’t here. 

It’s not like you couldn’t have asked him yourself, the sparse textbox sitting just under Liv’s contact. You open it to inspect the contents. 

[liv’s cousin’s something]: Amelia gave me your number [liv’s cousin’s something]: friday night at the sage&salt at 7  [liv’s cousin’s something]: is that okay [You]: uh hey [You]: yeah that’s fine

Today 7:20 PM

[You]: im here?

The first thread of texts were enough to make you feel like this was some cold business meeting instead of a date, knowing wherever this would lead would be either the city dump or off a cliff. Liv was hearing none of it, taking the guilt tripping route, saying she’d already committed and her cousin was irritating enough even without a scuffle.

So when Friday evening came around you’d pulled on the first dress your fingers could find, took all of ten minutes fighting with your makeup to make it look like you did something and left the house with zero expectations. 

Despite that, as you see a man walk into the establishment dressed like he’d gotten into a fight with a squid and a paper shredder, you feel the stone in your chest tank into the abyss. Zero expectations, and he’s somehow managed to strike out anyway. 

The jacket looks like he’s put it on as a weak cover for the grime stains on his shirt and trousers, a couple jet black splatters across the outfit to really pull the whole thing together. It’s not like he looked homeless or anything, his face surprisingly handsome with his hair pushed away from his forehead. Although he remains looking like he’d been playing football in some neighbourhood parking lot before remembering he had an adult appointment too. 

You’d never seen the man in your life, but your gut told you this was the shit texter who’d kept you waiting for nearly an hour. He seems to notice too, eyes locking from across the restaurant as the waitress leads him to your table. 

“Wonwoo,” you greet with a difficult smile, half sure it came out as a grimace. “Right?”

“Yeah,” he huffs as he practically slams back down on the chair, and you wonder for a moment how the legs didn’t give out. He says your name and you nod. “Sorry I’m late, I got a call in the parking lot.”

He’s been in the parking lot this entire time?!

It’s like you’ve been doused in gasoline and lit on fire, yet somehow needing to give him a shaky reply anyway. 

“O–oh, I see.”

The waitress saves you from spitting in his face when she asks if you were ready to order. 

Dinner was off the table, as you discussed with Liv who forwarded it to her cousin to her–whoever it was that set up this god awful date–and agreed on dessert and perhaps a drink. 

“I’ll have the chocolate cake,” you request in an attempt to make this somewhat better. You consider for a moment before asking for a drink as well, “And a dry gin martini, please.”

“Um,” he staggers as he barely skims the menu, ultimately flipping it closed. “I’ll have the same, I guess.”

Deep voice. You might’ve liked that if you weren’t already so peeved. 

The waitress disappears with the menus, leaving you two alone for the first time. 

“So,” you start with an exhale. “How do you know Amelia?”

“Her husband.”

“I see.”

Silence. 

“How do you know her husband?”

He sighs like this is all inconveniencing him, and it irks you to an irrespective degree. Like you wanted to be here either. 

“He brings his car to the workshop alot, became friends somewhere along the line.”

“Workshop?”

He looks a little startled, cocking his head to the side. “I’m a mechanic? Did Olivia–was it–not tell you?”

“No, she didn’t.”

It’s silent yet again as the man across from you refuses to elaborate. You curse as you ask him a follow up question. If there was anything you hated more than shouldering a dead conversation, it was sitting through an awkward silence. 

One hour. You’d sit through this for one more hour and then you’d leave. 

“What kind of cars do you work on?”

“Expensive ones,” he answers. You might’ve kicked yourself if he’d ended it at that, but he continues with a purse of his lips. “Ones that rich people abuse to an inch of the machine’s life and wonder why the dealership gives up on it. Vintage pieces too.”

“Have I heard of it?”

“The cars?”

“No, I mean,” you let out a breath. “Your workshop.”

“Jeon Motors, just a couple streets down actually.”

You did know what he was talking about, not expecting to recognise it through the empty question, passing by it on multiple occasions in this part of the city.

“Oh, I’ve seen it a few times.”

“Yeah, we’ve been there for a while.”

“Family business?”

“Uh–sort of.” 

“Okay,” you sigh in an irritated laugh. This was going to be a very difficult hour. “Keep that to yourself too.”

“Is there a problem?”

Just as you lift your eyes to lock with his, a ready yes, there is actually a problem on your tongue, there’s an intrusion. 

“Here are your chocolate cakes,” the waitress places the cakes down, and then the drinks. “And your dry gin martinis. Do you guys need anything else?” By the time the waitress is gone you’ve somewhat forced yourself to put that sudden surge of flames out, to a degree at least. 

“Okay,” he sighs, grabbing his glass and downing nearly half the contents. He emerges, wiping a bit of a spill from the corner of his mouth. “Let’s get this out of the way.”

“Hm?” He’s speaking to you with a very weird surge of intensity, and it confuses you.

“Neither of us wanna be here. You’re clearly trying to be hospitable but I’d really rather you not, especially when we’re both doing this to get our respective ticks off our hides.”

There isn’t much you can do but stare at him. 

“Have I misjudged your advances?” he asks over his glass, sharp eyes piercing. 

“No!” you yelp, reaching for your drink yourself, taking big sips only to emerge sputtering and heaving. 

Your date looks like he’s rising out of his chair when you raise a hand to stop him. 

“No,” you repeat, less jumpy this time. “I guess we could’ve cleared that out from before.”

Did he…snort?

“Sorry.” Dropping his chin to his chest, he composes himself. 

“What?” you ask, remaining annoyed as ever. 

“Nothing.”

That does it. You slam your now empty glass down on the table, slipping your fork out of the napkin a little forcefully, the metal glinting in the light of the restaurant. You dig into a corner of the cake and shove it in your mouth. 

If he was gonna be rude, you could be too. 

“I don’t know about hospitable.” You swallow. “But I assumed not being an ass was kind of an unwritten rule for any situation really. Including the ones you’d rather not be in.”

Wonwoo stares at you with a blank face, his cake untouched. “I’m being an ass. My laugh couldn’t have offended you that much.”

“So you did pick that up,” you comment. “With the way this conversation’s going I would’ve thought it flew right over your engine.”

“I’d argue your laugh was the least offensive thing you’ve done tonight.” You plunge your fork into your cake again. “But clearly we’re in different realms of etiquette.”

Your eyes meet the rough stains on his attire, and then his own that bore into yours like a challenge. The cake isn’t too sweet, rich just the right amount and texturally sound. Maybe something good did come out of this fiasco. 

“Okay fine,” he announces, sitting up straighter. “I apologise.”

“For laughing?”

“And for being obscenely late.”

“And?”

“And…” he genuinely looks like he’s struggling to figure it out, but catches your eyes flickering to his tattered and stained outfit. “And for my entirely inappropriate dressing sense. You’ll have to forgive me for that one, oil and grime are my spoils of war.”

“Wear it like a badge, mister mechanic, but perhaps somewhere it’s appreciated.” 

Wonwoo has already finished his drink, his cake remaining untouched. “You’re quite adamant on disliking me.”

“And you’re quite adamant on being a horrid conversationalist.”

The corners of his mouth lift the slightest bit. Opening his mouth to respond, you cut him off. “Cars don’t talk? Or perhaps, machines are easier to understand?”

“More like I don’t care to be personable.”

“That can’t be good for business.”

“The cars speak for themselves.”

He’s a weird one. Even more so when he offers to pay the entire bill, promising you he wasn’t lying when he said he was good at what he does, and to “make up for lost personality points.” You manage to pay your half anyway, considering the circumstances. 

“Can you at least let me drive you home?” Wonwoo asks as you both step out of the establishment soon after. 

“Depends.” You fix the strap of your bag. “Will it fall apart on the highway?”

The blaring white of the restaurant's outdoor lights backlight Wonwoo to make him look like some sad angel. He turns to you, the same slight smirk that seems to be plastered on his face. “Why don’t you find out?”

“What do you mean sell it? I got this thing a year ago!” 

There isn’t much you can do but sigh loudly as you listen to Olivia talk about the state of her car, the one that cost too much to justify but she seemed to use and abuse like a very replaceable toy truck. 

Leaning against the hood of the darn thing, you talk to her. “The dealership is giving you a shit deal to take it off your hands, you might as well try your luck.”

The look on her face is easy to read as she silences. Not convinced in the slightest, waiting for the conversation to end just so she could figure it out on her own. Sighing loudly, you look back to the dark beauty with a crate of issues that make it spit and sputter to a stop every few weeks. 

“How much did you say the repairs cost again?”

“Enough to put me on food stamps,” she whines through her frustration, tears pricking against her eyes as they glisten under the neighbourhood streetlights. “Why are you smirking like that?!”

“It’s just,” you pause as you consider your next words, pressing your lips together. “This is a little bit your fault.”

Lies, it was entirely her fault. 

Liv stares like you’ve just offended her, which you’re sure you have.

“Care to share how this possible bankruptcy could be my fault?"

“Because you drive the thing like you have a secret reserve buried somewhere in Tenerife.”

“My apologies for making a habit of not being a public nuisance and going forty on a national highway.”

“Your speed-o-metre is not the issue here.”

“Yes, of course, everything’s my fault.”

“Liv, please!” You groan loudly. “Just…let’s try putting up a listing tomorrow. Consider the prospects and you can decide from there.”

Sagging her shoulders and stretching her neck, Liv decides to simply trudge back indoors in silence. You take it as a begrudging yes, and follow her inside. 

That very night, when you were at the very cusp of falling into the dark space of sleep, your brain re-awakens before your eyes do. A jolt as the memory comes back to you of the many months ago, sitting in that restaurant across from a man who was too handsome for the personality he seemed to sire. 

“Expensive ones,” he had said. “Ones that rich people abuse to an inch of the machine’s life and wonder why the dealership gives up on it.”

How fitting. 

“Are you going to explain or should I explode instead?” 

You’d mentally prepared for the bombardment of accusations from Liv, her questioning perfectly right as you yourself cringed at the thought of showing your face here of all places. The one last one that’d officially banned her from ever setting you up with an individual of her choosing ever again. 

Hearing only silence as her answer, she appeals; “I thought he was the worst date of your life.”

“Nothing to do with his skills as a mechanic,” you mumble, refusing to make eye contact. 

“And everything to do with this being a horrible idea anyway!” Liv stares up at the sign on top of the garage. Jeon Motors. “What makes you think this guy can fix my car?”

What did make you think he could fix Liv’s car? If you’d known you might have given her an answer, but as you stare at the giant signboard that you’ve driven past for longer than you can remember, you can’t help but feel this place has been haunting you. Just a little. 

You can’t help but feel the tingle of goosebumps rise on your skin, the hairs across the expanse standing up at the thought of walking inside. There was no way you could differentiate the reaction from plain nerves or from the cringing drills that sound all the way outside the establishment. Regardless, you make an attempt to look confident as you make your strides into the pungent of the workshop. 

The first thing you note is how…clean everything is. Cleaner than any other workshop you’ve walked into anyway. 

The interior is bigger than it looks from the outside, the ginormous hall hosting about a dozen cars within your eyeshot alone. One side of the great hall holds an array of parked cars in different stages of dismantled and deconstructed, while the other side is lined with contraptions that look like stripped and enlarged elevators. 

Once you’ve inhaled a beyond recommended amount of smoke fumes and listened past all of the clanging, banging and sparks, you register the people that are elbow deep in the hoods of the vehicle they’re working on, enough to leave you and Liv standing at the entrance of an establishment that you can barely make sense of. 

“Can I help you?” A man in stained beige overalls approaches your wide eyed pair, face half covered in his baseball hat and hands occupied with a rag. 

To your slightest dismay, it isn’t the man you’re looking for.

“Uh– is Wonwoo here?” you ask. 

“He’s in a meeting right now. Are you a friend?” 

No, just a failed love interest.

“He,” you falter. If you weren’t a friend…then what were you? “He gave me his card.”

“Do you need help with your car?”

“Mine, actually,” Liv pipes. “It’s outside if you wanna take a look first.”

With one sweeping look across the warehouse, your eyes land on one of the few doors on the left. You register the plain look of it for barely a moment before joining Liv outside. 

By the time her car has been rolled and parked inside for a more thorough inspection, it’s taken you every last grain of your willpower to not stalk back out and wait in your car. For whatever reason, you can’t help but feel a very familiar spasm of irritation spark through you. Here you are, left anxiously waiting for the same man for a second time, merely feet away but remaining occupied with more important things. 

At the very least, the multiple hands prodding around the car’s engine were being somewhat of use, attempting to survey the same issues that had been looked at about a dozen times before. You silently promise to be a better person if this trip wouldn’t be for vain.  

“Am I late for something again?” 

Your throat is suddenly clogged as you open your mouth and no sound graces your presence. The face that meets you has his eyebrows raised as he stares at you in expectation, a ghost of a smile on his face. 

“W–Wonwoo, hi, um.” You clear your throat loudly, heat cursing your cheeks. “No, of course not.”

“To what do I owe the pleasure after…four months?” he asks, hands on his hips and his back straightened.

“I…my friend’s car needed to be looked at so…”

“Ah, of course!” He turns to where you’ve motioned, looking at the popped hood of the car his employees are working on. “I’ll take a look at it myself, don’t worry about it.”

He’s already walking away, towards the car and leaving you a ways away from the action. You stare at his back; the overalls tied at the waist and the stained white T-shirt that clings to his form from the humidity.

Wonwoo remains a man of a few words, and you remain at wits end about it all. 

A loud honk gives you something to do as you jump at the sound so up close, scrambling to move away from the smack centre as another car pulls into the garage. 

“Careful, those marks on the floor aren’t just oil and paint.” Wonwoo snickers from his place hunched over the hood as he cranes his neck to look at you. 

You walk over to where he is to get out of the way. “Was that meant to sound like an innuendo?”

“I was talking about the occasional running over someone’s foot,” he answers. “Not sure what you were thinking.” 

Ignoring the jab, you note that it was now only you and him crowding the car, “Where’s Olivia?”

“Went to look at spare parts.” You watch him as his gloved hands reach further into the enclave and yank at something hard. 

“So you can fix it?” 

“The car? It’ll take a couple days but it’s not really an issue.”

Furrowing your brows, you press on, “But the dealership—”

“Dealerships are the spawn of the devil,” he grunts as he finally wrenches out a spare nut or bolt or something that’s covered in oil. “Let me guess, they wanted her to sell it back to them?”

It’s your turn to raise your brows. “Yes. They tried fixing it, but it'd just stop again.”

“Because they’ve been fixing the symptoms.” He raises his eyes to meet yours, hands occupied with rubbing the part in his hands relatively clean with a rag. “They haven’t bothered to do anything about the actual problem.” 

“Because that’s gonna cost…?”

“Couple hundred, give or take,” he announces nonchalantly, turning his focus back to the engine. 

“But—” That’s it?

“Fifty extra for every question I have to answer after this.” You briefly wonder if Wonwoo’s eyes were always this piercing, boring into your soul like he didn’t need words to know what was going on with you. 

“Fine,” you huff, moving to drag a chair over, mostly just so you could have reason to break eye contact, and plop down as you watch him work. 

The more you think about it, the more you can find yourself unbothered by his strange behaviour. He wasn’t bleak, but nowhere near one of the more interesting people you’ve met. Taking the opportunity to really scan the man head to toe, you can’t say you find anything truly concrete to be this put off by him. 

Not much of a talker, but with the times you’ve prayed for a man that knew when to shut up sometimes, you wonder how much you can actually complain about this boon in particular. 

Besides, he was a looker, and you were completely content shutting your trap if it meant you got to shamelessly ogle at him from this close. 

“You know, this place looks bigger than it does from the outside.”

Wonwoo stares pointedly. 

You raise a shoulder in nonchalance, “Wasn’t a question!”

He simply huffs as he mumbles, “More length than breadth I suppose.”

“What are those things called?” you ask as you watch a sedan get lifted into the on some platform on the other end of the row. 

Glancing back, he answers, “Post lift, car lift, whatever you wanna call it.”

“What does it do?”

“Take a wild guess.”

“Touché.” 

Glancing back at him, you catch sight of his stained shirt once again. “Is that the same thing you wore to our date?”

Chin to chest, he registers what he’s wearing, hands still working on pulling bolts and boxes out of the hood. “Have about twenty of the same shirt, I can never be too sure.”

“You’re impossible.”

He smirks, “Touché.” 

You questioned if this was a mistake. 

Olivia could pick up her car herself, so why did you insist to be the one that did it? As you pay the taxi driver, you feel your ankles lock for a moment as you move to slip out of the cab. Frozen, you hear the driver ask you if everything was alright, to which your legs seem to work again, finally foot to gravel in front of the dreaded workshop.

The Jeon Motors sign blares the same as it always has in the afternoon light, glinting as it encourages you to walk in and do one of the stupider things you’ve done in life. Other than the ridiculous outfit you’ve put on, of course. 

But alas, as you hand over your slip to one of the many mechanics in the workshop, you find yourself praying he wasn’t here after all, that perhaps you could miss him as you leave and never have to see him again. 

Somebody yells out his name, and the dream drifts away like smoke. 

Finding the courage, you look up to where the man shouted for him, and immediately wish you hadn’t. 

Wonwoo remains in his overalls, the same ones that he had tied to his waist the last time you saw him. His undershirt however…

The tank top is revealing too much for you to pretend you don’t care, his hair remaining pushed back and away from his forehead as he walks over to you in what feels like slow motion. He takes the slip that he does not need, smiling at you as he says his hellos. 

“Car’s all fixed up, just need some papers that need signing and you’re all set.”

“Oh, but Liv isn’t here today.”

“That’s alright, you can sign them too,” he reassures, motioning for you to walk with him towards the car. “The car was alright in the test drives, revving hasn’t caused any problems either.”

He halts in front of the now (supposedly) fixed black sedan and pats the hood lightly, “If anything happens tell her to bring it straight here, although it shouldn’t have any more problems.”

“What’s your rate of return on customers?” you ask, a slight smirk on your face.

He thinks for a moment, “Pretty crap. But I guess that means I’m doing something right.”

You consider yourself something of a helicopter parent when it comes to your own car, but perhaps you’d change that if it meant you’d get to come here a little more often. 

Goodness, what’s gotten into you.

Wonwoo’s smiling too, and for a brief moment the silence is nearly awkward. A pause before he proposes leaving. 

“Shall we go to the office then?” 

Nodding eagerly, you trail behind him as he leads you towards the other end of the workshop, passing by even more cars in all their stripped or constructed glory. Glancing in front, you catch sight of Wonwoo’s back, ensnared for a moment before you snap your head away, reciting every curse word you know like a mantra. 

“It’s less hot in here too, keep the air on all the time.” Wonwoo stands in front of the plain doors, hands on the handle to wrench it open. You recognise it as the same door you had noted a few days ago. “Would you like anything? Coffee, tea?”

“Um, just water is fine, thanks.”

It’s quite plain, beige and leather against cream walls and unfittingly white lights. There’s a desk on one corner that’s beyond cluttered with more papers than you can register, pens and other office supplies mixed into the disorganised chaos of the large tabletop.

“Sorry about the mess, I can never find time to sort through it.” To your surprise, the light tinge of his cheeks suggest he might actually feel a little embarrassed. 

Cute. 

There’s cabinets that line on one of the far walls, and you watch him take his gloves off to open it and reach for a cup. The white porcelain emerges stained with an ashy grey as his fingers betray him. He looks flustered, glancing at his hands and back up to the cabinet. 

You can’t help but laugh a little, moving forward to help. “It’s alright, let me.”

“Sorry,” he apologised again, with a sheepish look on his face. “I’ll, um, wash this off.”

“Go on, I’m here,” you reassure as you move towards the water dispenser in the corner to fill your clean cup. 

He returns with significantly cleaner hands and apologises one last time. “Seems all I do around you is apologise.”

You have the good humour to chuckle, “So I’ve noticed.”

He does well to clear out most of the clutter that’s on his desk, leaving enough room to set down a few pieces of paper as you take a seat on the opposite side. 

As you scan through the papers, he attempts to make sober conversation. “You should…bring your car around for inspections if you want.”

“Oh? Even if I ask a million questions?”

“I can make an exception or two,” he grins. 

“And if you charge me double?”

“Might not charge you at all.”

“Might?” you question as you lift the pen he’d given you to sign the first space. 

“Might.”

“And what’re the conditions for that?” 

He doesn’t answer as he ponders and you fill in the second blank. “I’ll have to think about that.”

You snort before you can help it, your last signature coming out a little wonky as your hands shake. Turning the papers over to him, you continue, “Well then, let me know when you figure it out.”

He stares pointedly as he accepts the papers before dropping his eyes again, “Can I?”

“Hm?”

“Can I? Let you know?” 

It’s like you’ve been frozen over, the typewriter in your mind jamming as it punches out the implications of what he’s saying. 

“It seems, at least to me, that we may have gotten off on the wrong foot,” he continues. 

You hesitate. “I think so too.”

“I…I don’t want to put anything like pressure on you but–” 

“Would you like to try the new gelato place downtown this week?” you ask finally as you save him from his misery. “If…you’d like.”

He looks stunned for a moment before he’s scrambling, “Oh–of course! Yes, anytime is fine with me.”

“Great,” you smile, lifting from your seat. “It’s a date.”

“I’ll promise to wash my hands this time…and my shirt. And I won’t be late.” 

“Let’s not make promises we can’t keep,” you tease. 

You’re nearing the door as he follows behind, and just as you’re about to pull down on the handle, you hear him say your name. 

Turning around, almost too eagerly, you look up at him in expectation. He’s close, almost right behind you as he looks like he’s debating whether opening his mouth is a good idea. 

“Are you doing anything else today?” 

“Um,” you stutter for a moment. “I don’t have to drop off the car till later tonight, that’s all really.”

He swallows. “Do you wanna stay? Just a little while. We can stay in here, nobody comes in anyway.”

You aren’t entirely sure why you said yes, because you did actually have dinner plans with Liv later tonight, but the teeny tiny voice in your mind egged you on anyway. Besides, Liv wouldn’t mind, not if you were cancelling for this.

This entailed the very friendly contact of Wonwoo’s tongue in your mouth, and the extremely cordial way it seemed to caress your insides. If somebody asked you how it led to this, you don’t think you’d have an answer. Not that you care, especially when his hands are grabbing your waist and hips like that.

He’s already locked the door, reassuring you that nobody would find their boss and client in the smack dab middle of the devil’s tango. You take his word for it, relishing in the way his hot breath hits your skin below your ears, his mouth sucking under your earlobes as you whimper ever so quietly. 

Your hands are on his exposed biceps, feeling him up all to your heart's content. “Do you–Do you always wear stuff like this?”

He emerges, wet lipped and eyes trained. “So I wasn’t imagining it.”

“Imagining what?” you ask as you let him unbuckle your trousers.

“Please. Like you weren’t stripping me with your eyes.”

If you were warm before you, you're boiling up now. Were you being so obvious?

“It’s alright,” he reassures as you feel his fingers make contact with the crotch of your panties, pushing in to put pressure on your clit. “Wouldn’t be here if I hadn’t picked up on it.”

You feel his fingers push the dampening fabric away as his fingers make contact with your hole, coating his fingers in the arousal that’s made itself known. It’s hard to not hiss at the way he begins to circle it, thanking the universe that the loud noises of the workshop outside were masking whatever evidence of the heinous crime you were committing inside. 

Back against the couch in his office, you settle into the cushions once you feel him rub at your clit, one hand spreading your lips apart as he continues to massage your own wetness onto your throbbing cunt. 

When he retreats you almost cry out, but are smothered when he plunges two fingers into your hole instead, curling them almost immediately inside you. The consistent brush of the tips of his fingers on your walls are making it difficult to keep your eyes open, and absolutely impossible to keep your moans at bay. 

“Wonwoo, that’s so good, fuck.”

Through your closed eyes, you don’t note when Wonwoo gets on his knees. But you do feel him yank your trousers off entirely, and you definitely feel him place his wet mouth flush on your lower lips, sucking at your clit as he continues to pump his fingers in and out of you mercilessly. 

That’s all it takes for your noises to become increasingly high pitched, hands buried in his beautiful hair as he continues to pleasure you beyond imagination. 

“I’m so close, keep going, please, it feels so–”

He somehow buries his face in deeper, sucking harder, licking faster, and it’s enough for you to finally feel yourself collapsing on the inside, your composure dissolving as you moan so loud you’re sure they can hear it outside, even through all the clanging and revs of cars. 

There’s no way for you to know how long you lay there slumped against the couch cushions, but when you hear Wonwoo speak to you in your ear, you answer. 

“Was that okay?”

“More than okay,” you say as you grab his face and pull his lips to yours, tasting the tang in his mouth from your arousal. “Do you have a condom?”

“I–fuck,” he thinks for a moment. “I don’t think I do.”

You try not to feel too disappointed, but you sigh into his mouth anyway. 

“Can I fuck your thighs?” you hear him ask, and you might have just orgasmed again, untouched. 

“Fuck, yes you can.” 

With a yelp, you feel yourself lifted off the couch as you wrap your arms around Wonwoo’s neck, letting him guide you to his desk. “Wonwoo!”

You hear a loud crash of the desk being stripped of all its inhabitants, and your back hitting the cool of the table top. 

Wonwoo unties the arms of his overalls around his waist, letting the legs pool to the floor before slipping his hard cock out of his boxers. 

You don’t see it as you feel him lock your knees together and lift both your calves to rest on one of his shoulders. But you do feel it as he pushes the head into the seam of your thighs, watching the indent as the pink of his dick appears before you through the skin of your thighs. 

Wonwoo’s face is contorted as he pulls back and pushes back through again, this time brushing against your still sensitive clit. You gasp at contact, and immediately feel him thrusting faster. 

“Wonwoo,” you grunt. “Lower.”

He obliges, pushing his dick lower so it can rub flush against your clit as he begins to roughen up his pace. 

You moan as you feel his free hand that isn’t holding your legs trail to the ends of your shirt, caressing over your stomach to pull it up and reveal your bra clad tits. He pushes his hands under the nearest cup and begins to grope you so wonderfully with his big, warm hands. Rolling the bud between his fingers, you can only grasp onto his wrists as a handheld to keep you down on earth. 

The desk beneath you is rattling with noise, the full drawers making themselves known as Wonwoo pounds into your thighs like he would die if he stopped, mouth coming in contact with whatever skin of your legs he could reach, his breath fanning the side of your knees. 

You’re close again, and you know he is too with the way his thrusts are beginning to grow sloppy. 

“There,” he pants. “Almost.”

You orgasm for the second time, the throb your clit beyond comprehension as the rough of his dick slides across your clit mercilessly. 

“Cum like this, Wonwoo please I need to see you cum.”

And he does, shooting the heft of his load to cover your already wet cunt and thighs, landing on your stomach as he continues to ride out his high between your legs. 

The back of your head hits the table as you take in gulps of air through the aftermath of it all. Wonwoo is putting his weight on the back of your thighs, holding onto the table for support. 

“Oh, Liv is never gonna let me live this down,” you pant, lolling your head to one side as you register him. 

He peers up at you through his hair, the stupid smirk on his face, “Do you care?”

You’re smiling a little too when you answer, “Not really.”

And then your legs are off his shoulders as he nestles between them instead, diving in to lift your head and kiss you. 

And you let him, although you wouldn’t really call it too much of a kiss—not when the both of you were smiling like idiots through the clash. 

[simpjaes]

desecration. (s.j)

the one where no gods exist when you’re alone with jake sim.

minors dni !! | if you read it, reblog it. 

WORDCOUNT ― 6.4k

PAIRING ― jake sim x afab reader

GENRE ― top/dom jake sim, characters are in their twenties, sub/bratty reader, religious kink/fetish

WARNINGS― mild dub con, desecration of holy a relic, inaccurate descriptions of whatever religion this is– im not doing research for a 5k fic that’s mostly smut, sorry. 

NOTE― if you’ve read this before, it’s because I wrote it for mark lee over on my other blog [ncteez]. we wanted to make it jake, and by we i mean me. i wanted to read this as jake. sorry to religious ppl, don’t read this if you don’t wanna be railed by a hot guy wielding a cross. 

smut tags under cut:: 

smut tags― DUB CON.  use of the words: whore, slut, for the record, the cross is not raw wood and has a smooth finish,  reader is first attempting to seduce the priest through confession lmao, she’s also just a massive whore just like me :), jake is the priest’s son, jerking off, penetration using a wooden cross, unprotected sex, spitting, choking on and/or sucking off a cross, degradation, and name-calling, he’s a godfearing man but also he likes sexual perversions, humiliation, explicitly getting fucked in a church, kind of fingering? 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Jake wonders why you’re always making confessions, time and time again, once a week, every single week….eagerly. Like you’re excited for your sin or something. 

Huh.

Then again, once a week his father is expected to listen to confessions from the other churchgoers, even Jake himself is expected to confess. Often he will make up sins that he has committed just to seem as though he has been learning from some sort of mistake. Never would Jake actually tell his father through a confession booth what he has done or is willing to do. He’s an adult, he can confess whatever he wants. 

You, on the other hand, you’re working his father to the bone in terms of forgiveness. 

Jake’s interest piques at the very idea of a young woman, around his age, wanting to confess so much. Did you  hurt someone? Does you hurt yourself? Did you kill someone? Or maybe you’re just caught up in a situation that makes you commit atrocities? He can’t even imagine what one person could be doing to elicit such an eager need of forgiveness so consistently. 

Always the first in the box, always with those inappropriate outfits too. 

 Jake makes his way to the back of the church to complete his duties and, of course, he isn’t surprised to see you enter the confession booth. After all, it is the start of a new week. 

Hushed whispers were echoing through the large space and only now does he realize that you almost always confess when the church is nearly empty. You must not be unaware of his presence at all, unaware that he is the son of the priest that you spill your sins to, and unaware that he can absolutely hear you when he walks closer.

He isn’t entirely sure why he is listening. The walls of this church echo any and every sound, and to be fair, the only reason his interest is piqued is because his father was silent from the moment you had entered the booth. All he heard was you. You didn’t seem to start the confession off in a proper manner either, so yeah, maybe it caught him off guard too.

His ears make attempts to adjust to the words coming from the booth, but your voice is coming out in a tone that he has never used himself when seeking salvation. Minutes pass and he still hasn’t heard his father speak a word back to you, not to encourage you, not to stop you. It’s just you, addressing dreams, visions, wants, and needs. 

Certainly not confession. In fact, you’re actively sinning, attempting to seduce. 

“I woke up shaking, Father. What should I do?” 

Jake notes how quiet his father is still, despite you asking him what to do about the dream. His face sours when you continue to speak, this time in a slightly louder tone. 

“I just can’t help myself sometimes, I–”

It’s not that it’s intentional, really, it isn’t. If anything at all, Jake is incredibly disgusted by your attempts to dirty talk during a confession. Disgusted that you’d do such a thing, and…maybe intrigued by what you may have said that he wasn’t quite able to catch before. He quietly moves to the other side of the booth, the side where you seem to be spouting off all sorts of things, and he raises his head to listen a bit more. 

“You were big, you know? I can’t get thoughts of you out of my head. Have you ever touched a woman, Father?”

Jake leans in further, his body reacting more than his disgust. Unfortunately, his length growing in his pants ceases the moment his father cuts you off. 

“Enough.” His father finally stops you from abusing the booth, from abusing him.

Not another word is spoken and Jake does his best to back away quickly and quietly as you exit the booth. Of course, he’s acting as though he is sweeping a corner when he turns to look at you. Eye contact is made and he can feel an intense rush of heat spread across his cheeks.

Ah, so you’re a whore.

His father stays inside of the booth for a long, drawn out, three or so minutes before exiting and all Jake can think about is if you walked out of the church soaked and warm between your legs. It’s not even that Jake is into sinning. He isn’t. His entire life was built around this church, but that doesn’t change the fact that he’s a man. He has needs just like you do, apparently.

Never would he get what he needs from a woman as dirty as yourself, though, it doesn’t stop him from thinking about it and how your voice sounds when you were actively trying to fuck his dad.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

“You’re disgusting.” Jake narrows his eyes at you when you pass by, spitting the words at you with a grimace. 

“Excuse me?” You ask, stopping in your tracks and looking back at him just as harshly. You didn’t provoke him to speak to you at all, let alone fucking insult you? 

“You think I can’t hear the way you speak to my dad during your little “confessions”?” He takes a step forward as he whispers at you, air quoting the word confession with a roll of his eyes.. “You really think he’s just going to take you up on the offer?” 

Narrowing your own eyes, you step closer to Jake to stop anyone else from hearing his little tantrum. 

“Wanna tell me why he always listens to my “confessions” then?” You question back, mimicking the air quotes and smirking as you walk away from him, not even letting him answer.

Jake watches as you leave, upset that he didn’t get a rise out of you at all and instead was offered a genuine question that sits in his mind. Why does his father allow you to make a confession after confession if all it is, is an attempt to seduce him? You’re even ashamed of it, it seems, and it pisses him off to no end. 

Rushing after you, he is quick to grab at your dress and pull you back.

“Might as well just show up naked with the way you act around here,” He starts with a bite in his tone, dragging you off, down the hall and into a side room that usually remains empty. 

He intends to put a stop to this because he’s heard several more of your confessions by his own will and learns that, apparently, your only sin is being a fucking slut. 

“You have no place here.” He adds as he closes the door behind the two of you. Unintentionally locking you into a space that he’s directly saying you don’t belong in.

“Acting like you don’t think about fucking. Hah. We both know I’m not the only one,” You laugh, walking across the room with a shrug. It’s not the first time you’ve been reprimanded in a church, and it probably won’t be the last. “Besides, your dad probably thinks about me late at night after tucking your grown ass into bed like a child.” 

Jake narrows his eyes even more at you.

“Bet that pisses you off.”

“You’re ridiculous to think he would even want someone like you.” Jake scoffs harshly at you, gut bubbling with annoyance. “To think about sex this often too? I can’t imagine anyone would want to touch such a slut.”

You watch him walk towards you, with his perfectly tucked shirt and his darkened and angry eyes. Being alone with him doesn’t help his argument though because, in all fairness, he’s just as hot, if not hotter than his father. 

“What about you then?” You ask, leaning against one of the shelves in the room, running your hand up your legs, and hiking your dress up a couple of inches. 

“Your dad with his lingering eyes won’t admit to having ever touched a woman. Yet here you are.” You call out the priest’s lie with a snide chuckle before continuing. Fingers massaging your own fleshy thighs, watching the way Jake struggles with his own lingering eyes. “What about you? You ever fuck anyone?”

Jake grimaces, wrinkling his nose as he watches you. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” He questions, stomping over to you and pushing your dress back down below your knees.

“Oh!” You laugh, ticking your tongue at him and tilting your head. “You said a bad word. Aren’t you going to ask for forgiveness?”

He stares at you for a few seconds, being face to face with a woman that seems so desperate for any touch has his heart racing. He’s trying to call you out, not turn you on.

“Can’t you act decent? I barely know you and you’re flaunting yourself at me.” Jake bellows, stumbling back from you and examining the way your body is relaxed.

 You really seem to be enjoying this. 

“You’re the one who pulled me in here. Was it really to argue with me, or were you trying to get to me before Father does?”

Thinking for a moment, Jake realizes he’s the reason this is happening. He could have just let you leave like everyone else, after all, you were attempting to go home. Here he is though, and there you are. 

“He would never.” Jake laughs, mocking your attempts to pretend his father would be interested in you. 

“And again, what about you?” You shoot back instantaneously, watching the way his words get caught in his throat. 

He’s a weak man, truly, because the very thought of what’s under your dress, the very idea that you’re so willing, fogs his brain to the point of almost malfunctioning. It would be so fucking easy if he wanted to. 

No one would even know. 

Before you even know it, you can feel the air in the room change as he storms closer to you and rips your dress upwards to your waist. Instantly, he’s shoving his hand straight between your legs. 

A small yelp leaves your throat followed by a laugh. Perfect. 

“I knew it.” You giggle,  bumping your head a bit against the shelf at the force of his movement. You can feel the way his palm cups your core and presses in harshly through his silent breaths. “I fucking knew you were dirty.”

“Stop,” Jake demands, bringing his other hand to cover your mouth. “Stop talking.” He continues, already pulling his hand from your core and second-guessing himself. 

“If you want it so bad, I’m going to need you to shut the fuck up.” 

You nod with a smile against his palm, breathing in when he pulls it back and trusts your ability to stay quiet. He’s staring directly into your eyes as if he’s threatening you. As if he will stop if you make a single peep. A promise that he will probably get you banned from the church if anyone were to find out what’s happening in this room right now.  At his darkened gaze, you poke your tongue out, licking his palm and watching him pull back in aroused shock at how unashamed you are regarding your arousal. But, you do stay true to your work and remain quiet once his eyes trail down. 

He looks at you as if you’re some sort of monstrous entity, and for him at this moment, you probably are. But even with that, you see what’s growing in his pants before he lowers himself onto the floor. Positioning his face right in front of your clothed pussy. 

What a dirty, dirty boy.

Jake can see the wet stain of your panties and all he can do is roll his eyes. 

“You’re insane.” He laughs, eyes darting up to your face, looking at you like he wants to shame you. “Getting so messy in such a place, all for men who don’t fucking want you?” 

You nod, wiggling your hips at him in an attempt to entice his lips to attach there. But he doesn’t. He just stands right back up to his feet and takes a step backwards. 

“I bet if I left you here, you’d chase after me.” He mocks. “I bet you think I’m gonna stick it in you, don’t you?”

Proudly, you smile with a nod. Of course he's going to stick it in. You can see how hard he’s gotten. Sin or not, you know when a man wants to fuck you. Jake won’t be able to resist sooner or later, son of the priest or not. 

“Wow,” He laughs quietly, shaking his head at you as he reaches behind a podium and pulls out a large, lacquered wooden cross. “You really are stupid.”

Great, you think as your face falls. He’s definitely about to start preaching to you with that stupid fucking cross. Maybe he will even attempt to perform an exorcism to expel the horny demons out of you.

“Oh, please.” You roll your eyes, standing yourself up straight from against the shelf and patting your dress back down into position. “Don’t start this shit.” You’re already preparing to walk out without looking twice at him, but he laughs right back at you.

“You think you know everything.” He chuckles, walking towards the door and locking it. He stands in front of it now, crossing his arms and staring at you. 

“Don’t I?” You ask, eyeing the way he presents himself to you right now. 

“Did I not just imply that I wouldn’t use my cock on you?” He questions, twitching in his pants at the way you stand before him, much smaller in energy now. 

He can tell you’re still trying to act brave, and it delights him to see the realization spread across that pretty, silent mouth. 

Oh. Oh. 

“You’re going to–?” You swallow hard, realizing that of all the sins you could commit, the implication of being penetrated with a cross, solely so this man doesn’t have to fuck a whore isn’t one you ever thought of. 

This room doesn’t even feel like part of a church now as he holds the cross with more reason than praying. 

“Yeah,” He assures you. “I am.” Stepping forward toward you and looming down at your face. “Now get on the desk.” 

You don’t know why, but your body acts on instinct for him. Immediately walking to the desk and propping yourself onto it. 

“Take off your clothes.” He demands again, watching you intently as he stays in place, rubbing the long end of the cross much like he’d like to do for himself right now. 

God, watching such a stubborn woman do everything he says is…well, it’s new for him and it ignites a new type of arousal within him. 

And you watch him back as you begin to slip your dress from your shoulders, lifting your ass so that you can push it down and onto the floor. 

“Oh, now you wanna act shy?” He mocks, walking towards you as you attempt to tug at your panties. “And keep those on. No one wants to see that.”

Goddamn, you don’t even have the decency to wear a bra to service? Lucky for him though, your breasts are enough to drive him past the point of return. There’s no thought, fear, or prayer in his head right now as you reveal yourself to him. Going as far as trying to flash your pussy? Oh, he could laugh. 

You stay quiet, doing as you’re told and watching the way he examines you. He must feel so in control right now and you’re happy to let him, but you can see him falling apart behind his eyes. 

His cock is incredibly obvious beneath his nice dress pants, but you wouldn’t dare reach out to touch him, not yet at least. You’ll let him have his fun, despite the slight nervousness within you regarding that cross.

“Open your mouth.” He says, dragging the cross against your nipples and onto your chin. “Suck it.”

You almost shake your head at him. Such a hard wood sliding down your throat would surely hurt. It’ll bruise, it’ll fucking suffocate you.

Jake doesn’t seem to care about any of that though, because all he does in response to your widened and fear-stricken eyes is press the wood against your lips with a face of concentration. 

You purse your lips, muffling a displeased grunt at his acts.

“You scared?” He smiles first, pulling the cross away and now tracing his fingers along your lips before prying them inside and hooking your mouth open. “Come on, don’t act like you don’t know how to suck.”

You relent this time, feeling the cold and smooth tip of the cross enter past your lips when he resumes his previous assault. It’s not that you are against doing it, you just…haven’t done it before.

 You’re not exactly sure of how to respect a holy relic such as this one when you’re expected to choke on it. 

“That’s it.” Jake coos, pressing the cross further into your mouth. “Open up real wide.” 

You close your eyes at his voice, licking the smoothed object with an intensity you didn’t know you had. After all, it’s been so long since you’ve been intimate with a person, hence the constant wet dreams about your priest. This is somehow, incredibly hot to you. To have his son fucking your mouth, regardless of what object he’s using to do it. 

Still, it does hurt. The intricate edges of the cross bruises each time it hits the clenching walls of your throat and mouth, but Jake seems to like the sound of you choking and sobbing around it. After all, he just continues to press the cross further and further in. Probably relishing in the way you try to swallow around it and relax your throat. 

His eyes are so focused, seeing how much of it you can take and only imagining how good it would feel if it were his cock choking you right now. Despite your sputtering and crying eyes, you’re taking it so well. 

Yeah, you’ve definitely done this before. Probably swallowed up some guy’s cum and begged for more despite still having a cock wedged in your throat. How lucky for them to have someone so desperate to be gagged. 

“You’re filthy for doing this, you know that?” He laughs at your pain and how you don’t try to pull at his pushing hand, tipping the cross just a bit so that its hardened wood hits your throat in a way that hurts a bit too much.

You cough around it, only now pushing his hand back in protest. The tears are pouring from your eyes when the cross slides out of your mouth, and all you can do is blink up at him as you try to regain your breath. 

Half expecting him to immediately hold your head in place just to shove the cross back in, Jake pulls back instead, tilting his head down to look at your panties. 

Your legs instinctively cross to hide your arousal, but he prys your legs open regardless, forcing you to act as the whore you so wanted to be. For his father, for him, for anyone who would be willing, honestly. 

You’ve gotten wetter. 

“You’re so gross, I can’t believe you get off to this–” He laughs, feeling his cock begin to fucking ache. “You can take more, then.” 

No, no. You don’t want to keep sucking it, but your mouth opens anyway. Too turned on by the idea of seeing Jake’s reaction to watching you be so dirty, so blasphemous. 

The way he moans when you open your mouth willingly this time is…well, he looks fucking good. He sounds even better. 

You take it into your mouth without so much as a second thought this time, allowing him to slide the cross back and forth against your tongue and into your throat. You willingly swallow around the harsh edges, tears falling all the while, of course.  

You’re gagging so softly around it, he’s almost jealous over how you wanted his dad before you wanted him. Surely no one would do this for you, right? His father would never be with such a horny, needy, and dirty woman. 

Jake though….shamefully, is very into it. 

Into you, rather.

When he pulls it out this time, your saliva coats the cross in a way that nearly breaks his brain. Intensely, he stares at your lips, slack and waiting for him to continue his abuse. God, he’s so jealous. To think you would do this with someone else? With anyone? Anything? 

It turns him on beyond belief, but feeling jealous of the fucking cross isn’t exactly something Jake wants to admit. His father? Sure, whatever. But a relic he’s prayed to his whole life? Growing resentful of it just because you take it down your pretty and bruised throat? 

No. 

Jake shifts now, unable to satiate the arousal within him without grabbing your hand and forcing you to grope his hidden cock. So hard, so fucking hard, he nearly lets out his own sob at the euphoric touch when he actually does it. 

You’re a bit shocked that he’s letting you touch him, but you take the opportunity and run with it. You press your palm against him without any amount of shame, and all you can do is watch as he hangs his head, the saliva coated cross still gripped in his other hand. 

“Bet you wanted to fuck my mouth.” You croak out, your voice sounding just as raw at your throat. “Bet you wanted me to take all of it and beg for your cum.” 

His head shoots up in response to that as he grabs your face harshly, bucking against your hand at the same time. “Stop talking.” He seethes, releasing your face and inserting his fingers into your mouth instead. “Stick your tongue out.”

You do as he says, feeling his heavy cock twitching against your palm with each press. 

Jake seems like an expert at this, you aren’t sure, but when he presses your tongue down with his fingers to open your throat up, he spits into your mouth so easily that you have no choice but to swallow it.

Well, okay. He could probably get away with doing that a few more times if he wanted to.

You moan when you swallow, lending him a dopey smile that shocks him. You weren’t supposed to like that in his eyes, but when you grab his cock in response rather than just palm at it, he can’t help but moan back at you. 

His fingers continue to hold your tongue down as you jerk him off over his pants, and his hips stutter all the while until he loses all composure. Within a second, he stalks even closer, slamming both hands against the desk on either side of you and leaning forward to pin you there.

And then he grinds forward against your weak hand, pinned between him and the edge of the desk. 

Yet still, he’s gripping that fucking cross as he pins you here.

“You want me to fuck you so bad, I can see it.” He croaks, not even allowing you to offer him a nod before he’s got his lips attached to yours and he’s licking into your mouth. It feels impossibly better than that cross pressing against the back of your throat but you swallow his kiss just as easily. 

His hips continue to grind as he licks into your mouth like a man who doesn’t know how to kiss at all. So rough and messy with it, groaning more and more before he’s nearly a panting mess before you. He pulls back from the kiss only for a moment to stare at you, eye contact more fierce than it was before. 

“I think you’re the one who wants to fuck me.” You manage to slip out before he can silence you again, and his eyes narrow instantly. 

More than anything, that’s what he wants to do to you. He wants to shut you up in as many ways possible right now, and he definitely wants fucking you to be one of those ways. But he can’t, and he won't. 

“Hah–you’d love that.” He laughs, reaching his empty hand between the two of you to press his pants down enough to let his cock spring free. 

You can’t even get a good look at it, because he’s instantly grabbing himself and fucking his fist before looking back up at you. 

“Go on, look.” He says, leaning a bit so that you can watch him jerk off in full view now. “Bet you’d beg for it if I told you to.”

“Please?” You instantly let out, eyes staring at the angry head of his cock leaking and pulsing.

“I didn’t say to actually beg–” He groans, halting his hand and instead, thrusting his hips into the tightly formed hole he’s created. “I’m not going to fuck you.” He laughs again, now pulling the cross back and into your view with a wicked smirk. 

Of course. The cross. Well, at least you’re going to be fucked with something right?

 You eye the piece of wood and then go back to watching him. You’re not sure what it is about this situation but it feels like your body is on fire. Maybe it’s because hell is right beneath you, just a floorboard away from what the two of you have gotten yourselves into behind this locked door.

“Oh?” He halts his hips and licks his lips. “You actually want me to fuck you with this?”

You nod frantically, spreading your legs in front of him and showing off how large the spot on your panties has grown since he last inspected it. You watch as his eyes practically burn a hole through your pussy.

Only then does he release his own cock and look back into your eyes. More seriously this time when reality and guilt clicks in his head. 

“You are aware of what we are about to do, right?” His confidence falters blatantly as he glances at the cross. “Like, if you ever tell my dad about this, I will be disowned.” 

“You think I’d snitch on you?” You roll your eyes, body nearly shaking to get fucked. God, why does he have to stop now?

“Well, since you’re so inclined to confess every fucking day–”

“Jake, you literally just fucked my throat with it.” You deadpan, hooking your legs around him to pull him close enough to feel his cock hit your wet panties. “You’re the dirtiest one here, I’m not going to give that up just to see you get disowned.” 

He laughs at you for that. Because yeah, maybe he is. Maybe he’s the one who shouldn’t be in church, and maybe he’s the one who should have been confessing this whole time. Never in his life has he ever done this, or so much as imagined doing it, it’s so perverse. So, wrong. Unfortunately, that’s exactly what’s attractive about it. 

For some reason, his cock jumps when you say you’re not giving him up because he’s dirty. 

“And–” You soften your voice, trying to lure him. “You don’t have to use the cross, you know.” 

“No.” He barks out, pulling his hips back and pressing the cross against you instead. “Now, keep your legs open.” 

He gets right back into it without a second thought. He doesn’t care what he’s doing or what the repercussions of doing this will be. It’s not like he wasn’t going to hell before any of this, not based on the fantasies he’s had anyway.

Jake hooks his fingers into your panties and pulls them down your legs harshly, to the point that they’re stretching so far that it feels like they could cut through your skin. He backs away for a moment upon seeing you grimace at that, allowing you to slip them down your legs before positioning himself back between them.

“I’m dirty?” He says, looking at your pussy and the way it clenches around absolutely nothing. He sees the slick seeping out of you already, and it’s not only pathetic but so fucking desperate of you. “Fucking look at that.”

You smile at it, knowing that he’s degrading you but absolutely loving the view if his focused eyes are anything to go by.

Before the cross, he experimentally traces his fingers along your folds until he gets to your hole, and without hesitation, he slips one of them in. The grip of your walls alone could probably send him over the edge if he were to make a last-minute change and shove his cock into you, but he holds back. Instead, he traces the cross against you in the same way he did with his fingers, slowly inserting it alongside his digit. 

Pulling back, Jake watches your face as the cross opens you up, probably dragging against your walls uncomfortably as a reminder of the ultimate sin you’re committing with him right now. 

When your face doesn’t contort into that of pain, he pulls his finger out of you and places his hand back on his cock. Still staring at your face, he fucks the cross in and out of you. Relishing in the sound of how wet you are for this, and for him to give it to you.

 He does this until, finally, you moan.

Upon that little whimper of a moan, Jake is sent into a different headspace. One that quickens his pace with the object inside of you, one that tightens the grip on himself. 

Now, oh now, he’s playing for fun. He presses it in and then pulls it all the way out just to see your pussy beg for more. Holding back a moan over how fucking hot it is to see, he opts to coo out at you.

“Bet it would feel so good.” He breathes, trying to ignore the shiver that shoots through his body at the way you yearn for it. “Could shove my cock right in, you’d just take it, wouldn’t you?” 

Before you can answer, he’s thrusting the relic right back into you. In, out, in, out. Deeper, harder, fucking faster. And he offers the same for himself, tightening his fist, nearly abusing his own cock at the sight of your swollen hole swallow up the wood. Really, he makes a point to fuck himself just to imagine it’s you that’s squeezing him.  

If he thinks hard enough, it really is almost like he’s the one fucking you. 

He keeps this up for a few minutes, up until your legs are shaking around him and you begin to reach out with your hands. If it weren’t for the fact that he’s incredibly fucking horny right now, he’d probably be rushing for the altar to save you from whatever demon is possessing you.

 But, he knows that this is no demon, this is all his own doing. He’s loving it. Every single bit of this situation is being burned into his memory, and when your legs shake, it only urges him to fuck the object into you harder.

You whimper out strings of nonsense, almost begging for a release from this grasp he is holding over you both physically and mentally, but he doesn’t relent. Your pathetic cunt is being pounded by an object that should have you crying in fear, but instead, you’re so close to release you can only beg for more, more, fucking more. 

And god, he keeps giving it to you.

In an attempt to open your eyes, you feel dizzy with lust. Your hips buck up against the object with intent, and you can’t stop watching him. 

“Goddamn.” Jake stutters a sin, watching you fuck yourself against the holy relic. Thankful to rest his arm and be able to just…watch.

And oh, he’s watching and intensely imagining that it’s you on him. He can’t stop thinking about how fucking warm you must be, how tight, how sinfully delicious your pussy must be for you to be acting like this. And that thought is what forces him to lose it.

You were so focused, on the verge of your orgasm when you feel him practically tear the cross out of you, dropping it to the floor before – oh fuck.

You feel him. Something bigger, something thicker ramming into you. He’s prying you open more than he did previously, already pumping in and out at a frantic speed. Instantly, you cling onto him with a bruising grip, listening to his shameless moans as he realizes the lack of control he has over his own body or thoughts. 

Jake practically falls over you in euphoria as you cling, forcing you to fall back against the desk as he relentlessly plunges his hips. His breath is heavy against your neck as he loses himself, and all you can do is thank the same god you just disrespected for this cock that’s abusing your hole in all of the right ways.

“I can’t–” He groans out against your ear, his hips not stopping their relentless assault. “You’re so fucking dirty.” He insults, pushing you up the desk with each thrust. “So good.”

You can barely make a sound from the force behind his hips, only small yelps leaving your throat each time he slams in. And fuck, you want nothing more than to rub your clit right now. You could cum all over him, you could really make him feel good. 

And as if your prayers are answered, Jake apparently knows exactly how to pleasure a woman. Hm, curious. He knows how to do it fucking well too, as you feel his fingers rub against the swollen nub in the exact same way you would right now. Painful, intense.

The fact that he wants you to cum is delicious.

Your orgasm hits you almost instantly, pussy sucking in him each time he goes to thrust, and the sounds coming from your throat could be considered demonic by some, but he swallows them up with ease when he notes that you’re cumming all over him. 

Jake licks into your mouth, soothing you with dirty words when he pulls back to breathe. 

“You should see yourself–” He pants out, sticking his tongue out to lick against your lip. “Getting me all messy too?” He says again through a moan. “You’re beautiful.” He adds like a period at the end of a sentence. 

That alone makes you feel…different. In fact, it prolongs your orgasm far past sensitivity when he continues to thrust into you. You can’t tell if he said that because he’s close, or if it’s because he meant it. 

Quite frankly, you could give less of a fuck if he meant it. 

Jake stutters his hips when you lift your head just slightly, gripping his hair and skewing his head to the side so that you can whisper into his ear. 

“Want me to beg for your cum?” You whisper with a shaking voice. “You’d love that too, wouldn’t you? I know I would.”

His eyes squeeze shut as he aggressively turns his head and, once again, pries your mouth open with his tongue. A bruising kiss follows as he fucks his last few thrusts into you, doing just as you implied he should.

He pumps his cum into you relentlessly, thankful that it’s not all over his pants and entirely milked into that sinful cunt of yours. Thankful that you also got off around him instead of that forgotten cross on the floor. 

He wants nothing more than to remind you time and time again who got to you first. It was him, not his father. 

You smile at him when he pulls back out of breath, examining his pants before stuffing his sensitive cock back into them and reaching down for the cross.

“If you ever fucking tell my dad about this–” He seethes out of breath, trying to pretend that he can regain composure so soon after fucking you the way he just did. Still, he narrows his eyes at you much as he had done before. 

“Go on.” You say, voice shaking as you try to grasp back onto reality from whatever world his cock had sent you into. 

Jake is at a loss for words, because, what could he possibly do about it if you were to tell? He looks at you, still spread out against the desk, dress crumpled, his cum seeping out of you in a messy show of how much of an absolute whore he forced you to be.

“Just, don’t tell him.” He finally says, averting his eyes from you and looking at the cross in his hand. 

“Do you feel bad already?” You ask out, finally lifting to get off of the desk.

“Don’t you?” 

You shake your head, struggling to stand as the seething pain of having a wooden cross stuck into you shoots through your body. “Not really.” You try to laugh, but you wince instead.

“Yeah, I figured you’d probably be hurting after all of that.” He finally says in a somewhat apologetic tone, walking up to you with a soothing hand.

You’re a little shocked by his kindness. 

“Yeah, a little.” You laugh it off though because, at the moment, it felt good. You wouldn’t have wanted it any other way despite how blasphemous the act was.  

“Oh.” Jake seems sorrowful in his tone, but his gaze doesn't leave you. “I- um, I don’t know how to make it like, not hurt?” He scratches the back of his head.

In your attempt to put your dress back on, you do note that the pain inside of you isn’t unfamiliar. You’d been fucked hard before, but that was a long time ago. You missed this feeling, realizing that it was exactly what you think you needed. 

“It’ll pass.” You assure him, taking a deep breath and trying to stumble your way to the door. “I guess I’ll see you later, then?” 

Jake dips his head with a small nod, feeling guilty for what he’s done. Not because of the cross, not because of the sin, but because he’s unsure of how to pretend like he wouldn’t want to do it again.

[coupsiedaisee]

the devil that he is | a companion | c.sc

pairing: choi seungcheol x f. reader genre: smut, just pwp warnings: kissing, mentions of alcohol, uses of daddy and good girl, oral, unprotected sex, creampie wordcount: 1.8k a/n: because @hannieween demanded it, here it is, a companion piece to pulse. please go and give that a read first if u can, though i don't think its necessary to understand the smut in this lmao (v don't get it in ur head that if u start demanding more ill write more this was an exception!!!!) Im really quite new to smut and not that great so pls let me know what u liked what u didn't like etc etc. uwu ily all, pls enjoy!

You're cuddled into Seungcheol's chest, sitting on his lap, eyes closed as you listen to the steady beat of your boyfriends's heart. He'd pulled the blanket up to cover you fully and was now rubbing soft circles into your waist.

Seungcheol presses a soft kiss on your cheek, smoothing your hair away from your face, "Are you tired baby?"

"No," you murmur.

Seungcheol's fingers pause, "Do you want to have some more fun?"

You look up at him, "Here?" Again?

"No not here, love," he chuckles.

"Then where?" Not that it mattered. Though you couldn't voice it in the open living room, you were feeling extremely unsatisfied from before.

He raises an eyebrow, "Is that a yes?"

"Yes ," you whisper. Anticipation of what he has planned makes your race.

Suddenly, you feel a cool sticky liquid seep onto your legs through the thin blanket. The liquid slides down your ass.

You throw the the blanket off you, "What—"

"Oh shit, sorry!" says Seungcheol. You see him holding an empty Corona bottle upside down , looking less like he was sorry, and more like a cat who caught the canary. He sets the bottle aside an hooks an arm under your legs, lifting you off his lap bridal style.

"Shua, I spilled beer on us and the couch, I'm gonna go grab some of your clothes to change into!" Seungcheol yells behind him as he carries you up the stairs, setting you down when he gets to a door. He opens the door and pushes you through it, locking it behind him once he's through.

There's a queen bed in the middle of the room with a thick grey comforter, and matching grey pillows. A guitar leans against the wall in the corner, a small shelf with a record player and vinyls next to it. Recognition lights your eyes and you whip around smacking Seungcheol in the chest. "Seungcheol!" Smack! "This is Josh's room!"

"Yeah, it is," Seungcheol's got a cheeky glint in his eye.

Your jaw drops and you smack him again, "We are not doing anything in here! I thought you were taking me to the bathroom." A fresh new blush blooms on your cheeks as heat rushes to your face.

"You want me to take you back downstairs to the bathroom?" Seungcheol raises an eyebrow, smirk growing and eyes darkening. He grabs you by the back of you neck, pulling you towards him, and using his other hand to slide up under you skirt to fondle an ass cheek. Your hands stay on his chest as his hot breath fans over your face, "Do you want everyone to hear the beautiful sounds you're about to make when I fuck you?"

You close your eyes and shudder, imagining people's eyes as they follow you and Seungcheol going into the bathroom and shutting the door behind you. Imagining Seungcheol bending you over the counter so you can watch him in the mirror as he rails you from behind. The way your loud moans would reverberate off the bathroom walls and echo down the hallways to the living room, kitchen, and game room.

Seungcheol tightens the grip on your ass, "Oh, you do, don't you baby?" His face is so close your noses touch, but he doesn't close the distance between your lips. "You want everyone to hear how filthy you actually are, my shy shy girl." You clench you fingers around the fabric of his polo, and nod the faintest of nods. "I need to hear you baby. Do you or do you not want everyone to hear how drunk you are for Daddy's cock?"

You whine, nodding and grazing your lips against Seungcheol's. He tightens the hold on you neck, holding you back, "Words, babygirl."

"I-I want, you t-to—" You stumble over the words, still too shy to verbalize what you need from your boyfriend.

"We're not going anywhere until you can say it, babygirl," Seungcheol murmurs, moving his hand to cup your jaw.

You swallow before trying again, keeping your voice steady, "I want you to fuck me."

"And," he rubs his thumb back and forth on your cheek.

"And?" You falter, looking into his deep brown eyes.

"And, you know what else." He goads you on.

"A-and," You think . Then, you understand and, your thighs rubs against each other on their own accord, seeking friction. "I want everyone to hear," you whisper.

Seungcheol is unrelentless though, the devil that he is. "Hear what, baby?"

You whine and try to lean over to catch his lips with yours.

"Come on," he takes his hand off your ass to smooth your hair out of your face, using the hand on your jaw to force you to look at him. "Say it and I'll give you exactly what you want." Your eyes glaze over at that.

"I want everyone to he-ar," you voice cracks but you keep on, "how filthy I am for Daddy's cock." You wince at how needy your voice sounds.

Seungcheol presses the sweetest, softest, kiss to your lips and smiles at you, "Good girl. Now, that wasn't so hard baby, was it?"

His hands are warm against your cheek and you shyly shake your head no. He pats your cheek, "Go get on the bed, love."

You go to sit on the end of Joshua's bed, perhaps a little too giddy as the bed bounces a little from your weight. Seungcheol follows close behind, unbuttoning his jeans, not once taking his eyes off of you. "Take your shirt off for me, and your skirt," he says, and you don't hestitate for a second to take them off. Seungcheol mirrors you, pulling his polo over his head and stepping out of jeans, leaving him in just his tight black boxer briefs.

His hard cock strains agaisnt the tight fabric and you wonder if he feels just as needy as you are right now. Unable to decipher the look on Seungcheol's face, you decide it resembles something akin to a lion waiting to pounce on a gazelle. He licks his lips, looking down on your nearly naked body.

"For me?" his voice is gruff. Oh, your lingerie set. You'd almost forgotten about it. Deep red and lacey. Bra barely covering the swell of your breasts and panties already ruined from earlier.

You nod, chewing on your lip before asking in a small voice, "Do you like it?"

Seungcheol groans, running a hand through his hair, muttering, "You're gonna be the death of me."

He brings a hand up to up one of your breasts, thumb running over the top. You shiver in anticipation when his thumb grazes your skin.

It doesn't take even a second before Seungcheol's got you on you back against the bed, attacking your throat with kisses. You'll take that as a yes.

You snake a hand up into his hair, fingers tangling into his soft strands, giving it a tug when he mouths at the sensitive spot right under your jaw.

Seungcheol pushes a hand up under your bra and you let out a breathy moan when he swipes over a pert nipple. Your hips buck up into him, craving friction, and he grinds his clothed hard cock over your clothed cunt.

Seungcheol kisses down your neck, and your chest, lower and lower, until he reaches your soaked panties. He rips them off, tossing them into an unknown corner of the room, and uses his hands to spread your legs apart, holding them down firmly at your thighs.

Your breath hitches when you feel Seungcheol lick a fat, wet stripe up your cunt. But he doesn't give you a chance you even think about it, instead attacking your pussy with his mouth, switching between licking at it and sucking your clit. Your head rolls back in pleasure, and any move to grind against his face is halted by his firm hold on your thighs.

"Seungcheol," you whimper, as he sucks roughly at your clit. You pull on his hair, biting back a moan as pleasure builds within you. You need more.

Seungcheol lifts his head, your arousal dripping down his chin. He looks smug at how much you've come undone on just his tongue alone.

He leans up to kiss you, his tongue licking the inside of your mouth, letting you taste yourself. You moan into his mouth and he ruts agaisnt you. You grind up against him, or at least try to, with his hands still firmly holding you down. "Seungcheol," you whine, "I need you."

Seungcheol groans again, nipping at your bottom lip. He sits up on his knees, still situated between your legs, and pulls out his cock. It's hard and leaking so much pre-cum out its red tip. You nearly drool at the sight.

He rubs his cock against your entrance, letting your arousal smear all over it, and with no preamble, starts to push in.

You gasp at the feeling of his girthy cock slowly stretching you out, "Seungcheol." With one final push, he bottoms out, and god have you never felt so full.

Seungcheol leans down to kiss you and then he starts to move. Slow and languid at first but faster as he starts rocking his hips against yours.

He grunts with every snap of his hips and you cover your mouth with the back of your hand to hide your moans.

"Baby," Seungcheol's breathing hard, but so are you, "Baby, don't cover your mouth, let them hear you." At that, your pussy clenches around Seungcheol's cock, and Seungcheol stalls for a moment, letting out a choked, "Oh my god."

You slip out your own sweet little cry as Seungcheol picks his pace back up, your orgasm starting to build. Seungcheol moves his hand down to your clit and starts rubbing circles on it. "Come for me baby, cum all over Daddy's cock, yeah?"

You let out one final echoing moan as your orgasm comes crashing down around you, Seungcheol following after you with a quick fuck fuck fuck. You whimper from pleasure as you feel Seungcheol fill you up with his cum, the excess leaking out and down your leg onto the bed.

There's a knock on the door, and you both freeze. A moment. And then another knock, this one sounding more hesitant.

"Yeah?" Seungcheol yells, voice raspy.

Another moment, then a pained voice softly floats through the door, Dino, "Um, the guys told me to tell you that we can hear you? And, uh, Shua says to burn the sheets before you come back down?" There's a incomprehensible yell. "Um, actually he says don't come down just—I'm not telling them that!" There's more yelling and Dino sighs, "He would like you two to unkindly jump out the window please."

© ALL RIGHTS RESERVED TO CTRLALTDAISEE I DO NOT ALLOW TRANSLATIONS, CONTINUATIONS, REIMAGINATIONS, OR REPOSTING OF MY WORKS ON THIS OR ON OTHER WEBSITES

[urprettylittlething]

In The Shadows

Purge Alternate Universe

Yandere - Gojo Satoru x Reader x Geto Suguru

A/N - Okayyyy I've been working on this for like a week and it's the longest I've ever written for one thing, I had a shoulder injury which is mostly healed up now during the week which hindered my progress a little because I originally really wanted this to get out nearer Halloween time, but oh well TT at least its here now right? Lmao, but I hope you guys enjoy it, I tried my best and lowkey kind of hate it, I wished I could've done more or something, but if you have any ideas around this for a possible part 2 let me knoww, although no promises ;) Consider this a massive thank you story, I now have over 100 followers and the likes and reblogs and comments, you guys, I'm crying, I love you all so much <333333 I love interacting with you guys and your comments on my stories or in my inbox <3333 you all make my day ilysm <3 :( AND IM SORRY I COULDNT HELP IT, they're kind of really mean so its more harsh yandere than the soft you all wanted :( I couldn't help myself its a purge AU TT, but I promise ill make something softer in the future <33 sorry this is so long omfg, but let me know your thoughts pretty please &lt;3 and if you actually read all of this ily

summary - Another purge night is here and you think your safe and sound, but let your guard down and you'll find yourself bound.

warnings - purge, mentions of 'off screen' murder, actual 'off screen' murder, kind of gore but reader doesn't see it, blood, rope, reader gets tied up, gags?, tape over readers mouth, they're actually kind of really mean lol, especially Geto, descriptions of panic, anxiety, overthinking, stalker situation kind of, swearing, crying, brief hair pulling, if there's any more let me know ml <3

genre - Oneshot

wc - 7.2k

~spelling and grammar fixed already~

Edit - the top photo 6/11/23

The tip tapping of fingers on keys echoed around the silent room. The occasional footfalls of people around her walking up and down. Picking up books to further aid their studying would slip past the music playing in her ears when they were loud enough.

Every time she would hear someone being a little too loud for the library they were in she would glance up and shoot a half-hearted glare their way.

They’d never see her but it was the thought that counted. A barely audible sigh escapes her as she brings a hand up to massage her cold fingertips into the throbbing skin at her temple. 

Nervous nibbling was occupying her teeth and lips, chewing away the flesh and creating tender spots her tongue would soon soothe. 

She’d been staring at the same empty document for two hours now. No more than two sentences she was able to come up with before she’d erase them in a fit of frustration.

Abandoned textbooks lay closed behind her laptop, she’d deemed them no use around thirty minutes in, but she couldn't bring herself to get up and search for better ones. 

She was antsy, not able to focus on her assignment due in a week's time. Her brain was all fogged up, too many thoughts going through her mind and yet she's not able to focus on a single one.

The purge was tonight. March 21st. And it was currently 1pm. 

Why did she even bother to come to the library in the first place? Was she hoping to distract herself even just a little bit before she had to hunker herself down in her dorm for twelve hours? 

Maybe. Yes.

Was it working? Absolutely not.

She was too skittish. Overthinking everything that had the potential of happening later and things that have previously happened. 

‘Someone's not going to come and try to kill me just because I forgot to return their pen that one time, right?’ 

The amusing, albeit a little dark, thought did make the corner of her lips twitch just the smallest amount. 

Taking off her headphones after stopping her music, she closes down her laptop and starts to move it into her bag. 

She spares a quick glance around the few tables next to hers as she stands with the library's books in her arms. Her eyes locked with a man sitting roughly two tables down. Slumped back in his seat.

Gojo Satoru. Bright white and fluffy hair paired with a set of dazzling blue eyes. The ones currently peeking over the tops of his round shades that had slid down his nose as he tucked his head down slightly. 

Sitting in front of him and abstracting her view of Gojo only slightly is who she assumed was Geto Suguru. Two peas in a pod and never seen without the other. The long black and silky strands of hair tied up in a half up bun was a giveaway to who he was as well.

Both of them were originally from Tokyo, Japan. Coming over to America over five years ago. Or at least that's what she’s heard from around the place, not knowing them personally. They were the most popular boys in school when she had joined a little over a year ago and they still held the title strong.

She doesn’t think she's ever really interacted with them. At Least not on any kind of personal level. Sure, maybe from a few friends of friends or passing each other in the hallway and being polite to her upperclassmen, but nothing all that memorable. 

Which is why this prolonged eye contact is sending a very noticeable shiver down her spine. The smallest twitch of a smirk on his face and she was breaking eye contact, gulping down the pooled saliva in her mouth as she turned around and hastily made her way in between the towering bookshelves.

Leaving the library after stacking the books she’d previously taken back on the shelves, she hastily makes her way down the long corridors. Keeping her head down, her hands clutched tight on the strap of her bag. She passes very few people in the hallway.

Even after pushing through the doors and trekking her way to the dorms at the end of the path, there were very few people loitering around outside. Some of the people she passed looked like they could be stoned, not that she could really blame them. Some looked a little too relaxed and happy and some were just trying to get to their destination as quickly as possible. Like her.

As the doors came into view, and then the stairs, she slowly began to relax, her fast pace lessening up. Successfully getting to the safest place she could for when the purge would start. 

It was also a massive relief that her two good friends would be staying with her during the twelve hours of horror. Last time she was by herself there had been multiple scares throughout the night. Nothing too big but something she didn’t think she could handle alone again. 

Reaching her door on the third floor she fiddles with her keys for a few seconds before her door clicks open and she pushes her way inside. Closing the door and locking it again for good measure. 

It was 1:43 pm.

A few minutes after she had arrived back at her dorm did she realize she still needed to pick up some food items. Being a broke student meant she had essentially nothing in her cupboards or her fridge. And if she was ‘hosting for the purge’ this year, it meant she had to stock up at least a little bit. 

‘Imagine trying to hide from a killer and your stomach growls, I think I would just die on the spot.’ She thinks, the smallest smile gracing her face. Humour is usually her way to cope in situations like these. It’s either that or panicking and she’d rather try to save that for the main event.

With a heavy sigh and hesitation weighing her limbs down, she slowly puts her shoes and jacket back on. She can make this quick. In and out. Easy peasy. 

With a quick jump while shaking her limbs out to get rid of her last minute hesitation, she quickly opens her door and steps out before shutting it behind her. No going back now. Locking the door behind her, she starts making her way back down the stairs and out the doors, walking in the direction of the food store. 

Her nerves were still playing up though, eyes darting this way and that as if trying to find a reason for her to panic. ‘It’s okay, the purge hasn’t started yet, all those things are still illegal.’ Is what she keeps telling herself while taking a deep breath. But the fact they won’t be in a few hours was still cause for some panic. 

Arriving at the store, she wizzes around, collecting any good looking snack and throwing it in her basket before hastily paying and leaving. The heavy plastic carrier bag hanging from her fingers gave her reason to think she went a bit overboard. 

Her quickened steps and accelerated breathing were all she could hear for a while. Her walk back to her dorm was supposed to be a quiet one, less and less people were loitering around meaning less and less noises to distract her. 

Especially from the new set of footsteps that have appeared behind her.

As soon as her mind clocked the extra set of footsteps there, it went into overdrive. ‘Who is that? Are they following me? No, you're being delusional, they're just trying to get back home. But are they? They just appeared out of nowhere. Are they going to try and kidnap me? Rape me? Stuff me in a van? Drag me down a dark alleyway and murder me?’

Her mind was racing, steps quickening and breathing silenced under the new threat. ‘Oh god, what if they’re stalking me? Waiting until the purge starts to come and slaughter me? They’re going to kill me. They’re going to kill me. What should I do? What should I do? What should I do?’

And then they were gone. 

It barely registered in her mind that the fast paced footsteps from behind her had vanished. A sharp breath escaped her before her head whipped around on a desperate whim. No one. Not a soul on the path behind her. 

Her shoulders sank with relief and a watery laugh broke free from her trembling lips. ‘I’m losing my mind.’ She thought. Even though that feeling in her gut had faded, it never fully disappeared. Her racing heart never slowed and neither did her footsteps. 

Y/n hurried back to her dorm, almost running through the doors and up the stairs to fumble with her keys and quickly burst in. Double checking she locked the door behind her, and then checking every other lock on her third story apartment. Only when she had made sure they were all secure could she finally relax. 

Her body shivering and hands shaking from the after effects of adrenaline. Her breathing is still a little shaky as she pulls a bunch of pillows and blankets into her tiny living room. Pushing her chair and sofa away to make more space as she lays everything out as neat as she could, making the floor a comfy space for her and her two friends to crash for the purge. 

She empties the snacks from out of the plastic bag and piles them in a nice little corner near the TV. A small stack of movies there for when they’re all waiting for the purge to start. Some cards in a pack were also placed there. 

The three of them are wanting to be as quiet as possible while the purge is going on. Everything locked, curtains drawn, lights off, TV with no volume and only subtitles, quiet games to play in case they got bored, etc. 

They weren’t taking any chances. It was doubtful anything would happen, since nothing really ever did in the dorms. No student here would go as far as murdering somebody, everyone mostly stayed inside, not wanting to risk anything. She only knew of a few people that have snuck out before to rob a few stores, or do some petty revenge like smashing someone's car without getting into trouble.

But overall, it was best to remain quiet. They didn’t want to get murdered because the TV was turned up too loudly and attracted some wrong attention. 

It was 5:15 pm.

This is the time her friends arrived. Knocking some made up code on the slab of wood before messaging just for good measure that it was really them outside. 

After unlocking the door and letting her two good friends inside her dorm she swiftly closes and locks it again. Relieved greetings transpire as well as nervous whispers about the purge and some small gossip of who they think would actually go out this year and who are likely to stay inside. 

The three of them start to make their way around her dorm, closing all the curtains and double checking the locks on all the windows and doors. Especially the balcony and front door. 

After they’ve secured the apartment, they turn off all the necessary lights, flicking on a few electrical lanterns and setting them up around the living room, but away from the windows. They’ve left one lantern in the bathroom and one in her bedroom, both turned off, just in case of emergencies.  

The three of them settle in a spread out pile on the blankets she put down in the living room. Some snacks are passed around already and a movie is slotted into the TV, playing as background noise mostly while they talk.

Erica, a sassy but kind of dumb girl, with choppy shoulder length hair that had been bleached and dyed a light green. She's donned in a crop top and sweatpants, comfy.

Don, a friendly giant, very kind in nature but also a little muscly. He has short black hair and a sculpted jawline. He also came in sweatpants and a baggy white T-shirt, also comfy.

Her two very good, and only, friends here. They’re in a few of her classes and all regularly hang out together. 

“So,” Erica begins after her mouthful of powdered donut. “Who do you think is going to actually purge tonight? Like, actually actually. My moneys on them two hotties in my class.” She finishes, wiggling her eyebrows..

Don hums around his half empty soda can. “Yeah, honestly I wouldn't be surprised if they did.”

Y/n pipes up, “Wait who?” sitting up against the sofa behind her, getting comfy like she's about to hear the gossip of a lifetime.

“Oh, Em, G! You haven’t heard of it? You’ve seriously been, like, living under a rock or something.” Erica says jokingly. Picking apart pieces of her donut and eating them. 

Don perks up too. “Really? You haven't?” Y/n shakes her head in denial as Don shrugs. “I get it, it’s mostly stayed in our class, hasn’t spread much further than that.” He says before crawling forward and rummaging around for more snacks.

“So get a load of this right!” Erica sits up too after finishing her donut. Waving her hands excitedly as she tells her latest gossip. “You know them two really hot upperclassmen right?” She draws out her ‘really’ and waits patiently at the end of her sentence for the other girl's confirmation. 

When she nods in slight confusion, Erica continues, “There were some major rumours in class that the two of them were late this one day because they were beating someone up. And I don't mean like a few slaps or hair pulling, I mean punches. You know?”

Y/n nods again, this time with furrowed brows and Erica continues, “At first, I didn’t believe it, obviously. But then, the two of them came into class and I swear there were blood stains on their clothes. Blood stains! Not to mention all the plasters and bandages all over their hands! I just had to believe it then! Wouldn’t you?”

After the end of her long rant she slumps back against the front of the sofa and mumbles incoherently to herself shaking her head while pouting.

Don, who had been listening silently, pipes up, “It was true, I was actually there for once.”

Y/n’s eyebrows raise in disbelief at what she had just heard. Fighting, here? She couldn’t help but to doubt it, if only just a little. Stuff like that has never happened here. Or at least while she had been here. It was just unheard of.

And for an attack so vicious to result in blood being drawn, then there must have been somewhat of a good reason for it. That was the conclusion she came to.

“I mean, there had to have been a good reason for it.” Y/n says, “They’re pretty nice people aren't they? It is Gojo and Geto were talking about here, right? They’re really popular here too.” Her eyes darted between her two friends, looking for more answers on this unexpected juicy gossip.

Erica sighs wistfully, “No, it got shut down pretty quick, which I guess is why so little people have heard about it. God, would I pay to see them fight though. Their muscles must have looked amazing.” 

They stop talking about it after that, Don getting distracted by the snacks and whining about how she didn’t get his favourite. Erica smacking him with a few pillows and complaining how he’s getting in the way of her movie she was barely even watching. 

Their playful banter did little to distract from her inner turmoil. A small shiver went down her spine again. The memory from earlier in the library resurfacing in her mind. Gojo staring her down, the creepy walk back from the shops and now learning the two had at the very least helped in injuring someone.

It could just be because it was purge day, but everything was beginning to creep her out and she was overthinking again. ‘What if he wants to attack me next? What if all of those things were connected and someone really was following me home? What if he wants to kill me? What if both of them want to kill me? Have I ever done anything to offend them? I haven’t, have I?’ She knew these were far fetched and ridiculous, but she couldn’t help but think of them anyway.

Her spiralling thoughts were halted when a stray pillow smacked her in the face. “Oops, haha, sorry.” Erica sheepishly apologized, bringing her hand up to smooth down Y/n’s ruffled hair. Don was laughing in the background.  

Y/n was stunned for a few seconds before replying, “Oh, don’t worry. How about we put something else on? This movie is kind of boring.” crawling across the piles of pillows and blankets to reach the stack of movies.

This caught the other two’s attention, eagerly rushing to the stack as well to try and get first pick. Arguing for a few more minutes before settling on a movie they all loved. Snuggling back into their original positions.

This was how the next few hours went before the announcement appeared.

It was 6:59 pm.

At exactly 7 on the dot, the TV went black before turning blue, the government announcing the commencement of the purge. Big bold letters and ‘Emergency Broadcast System’ and ‘This is not a test’ were displayed on the screen.

They were all quiet as it played out. The mood quickly turned sombre.

“Weapons of class 4 and lower have been authorized for use during the Purge. All other weapons are restricted.”

Don gulped.

“Government officials of ranking 10 have been granted immunity from the Purge and shall not be harmed.”

Erica huffed.

“Commencing at the siren, any and all crime, including murder, will be legal for 12 continuous hours.” 

Y/n shivered.

“Police, fire, and emergency medical services will be unavailable until tomorrow morning at 7 am when The Purge concludes.”

She released a shaky breath. The announcement ends with “...A nation reborn.” before stopping. The screen turned black again.

No one moves or says anything. Each of them were frozen in an array of emotions. Fear being the most prominent. 

The silence stretched on for minutes. Eerie in its wake, not even being able to hear other people in their dorm rooms like she normally would.

Eventually, after releasing another shaky breath and rearranging herself with trembling limbs, they all snap back into the present. 

Don coughs and Erica shuffles awkwardly. 

“Cards, anyone?” Y/n meekly speaks up. The other two nod as they sit in a small circle. 

It was 7:36 pm.

This was when the first explosion of some kind was heard by them. Each of them froze in the middle of playing their mostly silent game of cards. The noise was distant, but the impact remained.

A scream from a few doors down echoed in the silent space.

They waited with baited breath for any follow up, but when nothing happened, they slowly relaxed. Each of them assumed it was the explosion that must have scared someone. Sometimes it’s better to think of the positive, rather than what that scream could have been for.

A few minutes later a siren bellows in the distance, a few car alarms wail.

Nothing too bad, but knowing that it could mean someone was being murdered out there didn’t give them any ease.

It was 8:02 pm. 

This is when the banging starts. Y/n thinks it could be a few doors down again. Erica thinks it’s below them and Don thinks it’s above them. 

Wherever it was, it was concerning. 

Erica releases a small nervous chuckle. “Maybe someone is just having a good time?” A fake smile plastered on her face to try and mask her worry. Even she didn’t believe her little theory. Not during a time like this, during The Purge.

It was a few minutes later, after they had quietly resumed their game, that footsteps were heard.

Clacking down the hallway. 

1, 2.

1, 2. 

1, 2. 

1, 2. 

They were walking at a leisurely pace. Taking their time. Strolling down the hallway and getting closer and closer.

All three of them looked towards the door, as if someone were to burst in at any moment.

The footsteps slow before coming to a stop. Right outside her door.

The three of them hold their breath, bodies flinching when a light knock rings out into the open space.

Complete silence.

Another knock.

None of them had even noticed the earlier noises had stopped, too focused on the potential threat now right outside the door. Seemingly wanting someone to open up.

Three pairs of eyes dart between each other. Silent questions trying to push their way out without being heard. A few panicked half shrugs and furrowed brows with downturned lips later, another knock rings out.

This time it was a little louder.

Barely audible whisperings of ‘you go’, ‘no you’, ‘fuck no’, ‘who even is it?’ cut through the silence. No one wanted to ask the question. To even speak a hint of it lest it result in it coming true.

Eventually after a solid minute of panicked, almost silent, squabbling later. A frustrated and frightened Erica pushed herself up. Taking a very obvious deep breath. Eyes closed and silently mumbling to herself before taking a few steps over to the front door.

She tried to be as quiet as she could but each step sounded like it weighed a ton. Every creek and every wobble made to sound the loudest. 

Very quietly bracing her hands upon the door, she leant up on her tiptoes. Peeking into the peephole positioned in the centre of the door.

The two left in the pile of blankets still. Not wanting to even breathe in fear of disturbing whatever was happening in front of them.

A sudden screech of pure panic and fear tore from Erica’s throat. Flailing before landing with a harsh thud on the floor beneath her. Scrambling backwards on her hands and feet, keeping her eyes on the door the entire time.

The two startle and immediately jump up, laboured breathing hindering their lungs from the sudden scare.

“What the fuck? Erica what happened? What was that?” Don frantically whispered. His eyes were also locked on the door. 

Y/n also whispered to her, “Who was that? Erica?” her eyes locked onto her friend, not able to bring herself to look at the door yet.

“It was.. Oh god.. The peep..” Erica wheezed out. The fright took too much out of her with her frantic gasps for air.

A sudden bang echoed into the room. A few more followed before they all realized it was coming from the front door. 

Erica screeched and threw herself back into a standing position, rushing for the kitchen and grabbing any sharp knife her eyes first laid on.

Don stood frozen in fear. Not able to move or barely breathe from the looks of it.

Y/n wasn’t any better herself. Downright terrified. This was her dorm. Her dorm. Which means whoever was outside, was looking for her.

The banging persisted, the person on the other side seemingly determined to get in. This proved correct when the handle started turning whichever way it could. 

She didn’t even realize, terror clouding her senses because when she looked back to her two friends, Don had collapsed into himself, wheezing with little air entering his lungs amidst his panic. Erica was cornered in the kitchen, sobbing, tears flooding her cheeks and ruining her mascara she had in place.

The persistent banging stopped for a second. The faint sound of another pair of footsteps approached from the hallway outside. Muffled talking pursued but it was hard to make anything out, between her pounding heart, Erica’s sobs and the slab of wood in the way, didn’t make for easy hearing.

For Y/n, it seemed there was one second of complete silence. No sobbing, no voices, no distant alarms or explosions, no racing heart, no wheezing lungs. Before chaos sprung onto them.

Suddenly the people outside, because there was another person now, resumed banging on the door. But it didn’t seem like they were ‘just knocking’ anymore. No.

They were trying to break the door down. 

She could see it from the way the door groaned and creaked under the relentless kicking. She couldn't quite tell if they were using their feet, or an object, or whatever. 

All that mattered was that they were trying to get in. And they were going to succeed.

“Move! Hide! We need to hide!” She whisper-yelled. Rushing to Don and tugging on his arm to try and get him to move. He stared at her for a few seconds before his brain caught up, registering what was happening around him. The real danger he was in right now.

“Hide.. Oh god..” He panted, sprinting for the bathroom, the first place his eyes had landed on.

With Don now searching for a place to hide, she ran her way to Erica. Still trying to be as quiet as she could, in the little hopes that they would think she wasn’t here.

“Erica, we need to hide! They’re getting in!” She frantically whispered to her hyperventilating friend. Trying to shake her shoulders, even resorting to lightly slapping her face to try and get her attention. She was desperate.

“Please!” The sound of splintering caught both of their attention. Heads whipping towards the door starting to cave. She wasn’t all that surprised, that slab of wood was a shitty excuse for a door anyway.

Erica suddenly sprung up and dove for the piles of blankets in the living room. Trying to bury herself amongst them, taking the knife with her.

And now that all her friends had been taken care of, she ran for her bedroom. Trying her best not to stumble and fall in the dark hallway. 

As soon as her door came into sight, she gently opened it, gunning for her wardrobe tucked into the corner of the room. Not even looking towards the turned off lantern, she didn’t need them knowing her hiding spot from something so obvious. 

It was already messy anyway, so in her frazzled brain she didn’t bother caring where she tossed piles of clothes and shoes in her room.. They’d hopefully think it was like that in the first place.

After quickly clearing a space big enough for her to curl into, she did just that. Situating herself just right, back pressed against the side of the wardrobe, knees tucked to her chest and pressed against the boxes in front of her. She was sitting on old shirts she hadn’t seen for months.

Hearing the door breaking even further, she grabbed any clothes within her reach and threw them over herself. Shutting the door when she was mostly covered, she could have sworn she could hear laughter coming from the hallway.

A loud crash and splintering tore through the air. She knew it was her front door. And now they were inside. 

Her hands slowly went up to cup around her mouth, trying to muffle her breathing as much as she could. Her body froze. Even when she already began to feel muscle cramps settling in, she dared not move. She forced herself to breathe slowly. Every inhale a struggle along with a reminder that she was still alive at this very moment. Even if she was convinced she wouldn’t be for much longer. 

The thought brought tears to her eyes. The original shock wears from her body and settles into something akin to despair. 

Her throat started clamping up, muscles seizing and throbbing with the need to cry. 

It was the thudding of footsteps that shook her out of it. Snapping her half way back into a nightmarish reality. 

She gulped. Closing her eyes and straining her ears for any information they were willing to receive.

Just as she thought. Two pairs of footsteps. 

With every thud of a shoe or a spike in their muffled talking, her body would tremble. 

It remained like this for a few more minutes. The footsteps or talking occasionally pausing. 

It was during one of these silences, where a different sound was heard. She couldn’t identify the exact sounds, just ones of commotion. They were still all muffled. And then she heard muffled yelling. 

It sounded so dulled, between the walls and layers of wood and clothes, she could barely make out anything, her ears straining for any hint as to what was happening. Being left in the dark like this, literally and figuratively, was terrifying her. 

And then this horrible, awful noise carried its way between the cracks in the wardrobe. Crunching. Cracking. Stomps. 

That muffled yelling from before kept getting cut off. Eventually dwindling down into a barely audible groan. Those thuds never seemed to stop either. Never ending, crunching, cracking, and now wet thuds. 

Her brain was trying its hardest to process, to catch up with the information that it has been provided with. 

More footsteps, only one pair, accompanied with muffled laughter. And a more distinct sound traveling through the air. 

A scream.

Even more laughter, hurried footsteps and pleas of ‘no’, ‘please’, ‘don’ts’. 

It was now, with the wet stomps still in the background, her screeching friend, that eager laugh, that her brain had finally caught up.

She was going to be sick.

They’re hurting them. Killing them.

Her friends.

Her body moved out of its own violation. Shaky hands and feet kicking and pushing their way out of the pile of clothes. Wardrobe door swinging open with a creak.

She collapsed out of it. Slumped on the floor, dry heaving. Her lungs not seeming to take enough air in but yet holding in too much. She couldn’t function. Fear overwhelmed every part of her. As well as grief. 

Her ears were ringing and she was left gasping, drool dripping onto the hard floor beneath her as a result of her attempted vomiting. Eyes wide open, blurry when she tapped back into her mind. 

Tears, clouding her vision and dripping audibly on the floorboards below her. 

In the distance she could hear muffled talking. Two men, she could make out more clearly. Not only that, but squelching, wet, gooey noises seemed to mingle in the air. Gurgling was the next before silence.

A minute passed, maybe two before the footsteps started up again. Those goddamn footsteps. 

1.. 2.

1.. 2.

1.. 2.

But they were slower than before. Steady. Taking their time. 

And getting closer.

Her instincts kick in, blinking profusely to try and clear her eyes from the tears, looking up and darting around before landing on the space under her bed.

She wouldn’t have enough time to fix her spot back in the wardrobe. She couldn’t run past them, not even in her best state which she certainly wasn’t in right now. She had considered her bedroom window as an option, but it was locked, which would take time to open. Not even mentioning the fact she was on the third floor, so jumping out would break at least something important. They would be quick to notice as well, and if they came for her, it was likely they would decide to chase her down.

Under her bed seemed to be her best option at the moment, and she was running out of time. Scrambling as quietly as she could, she slid herself directly under her bed, trying to center herself in the middle of it, tucking herself into a tight ball.

The footsteps stopped right outside her bedroom door, she had enough sense to shut it on her way in, thank god. But that clearly wouldn’t be enough to stop them. 

Almost as if the person was teasing her, they slowly clicked the door open. The distinct creak she had grown accustomed to over the months making itself known. 

Her muscles are tense, tightening in the presence of her predators. 

In the dark space from under her bed and in her room, it was obvious when the light from inside the hallway started spilling in the more the door got pushed open. In the vague depths of her mind it registered that they must’ve either turned the hall lights on, had taken one of her lanterns,  or were carrying one of their own.

Her lungs were burning with the effort to keep her body running with the little air she was allowing them to have, all for the sake of trying to keep quiet.

It was all too silent once again, only for a second or two before the second pair of footsteps came towards her. A lot more hasty compared to the other ones. 

Her breath silently hitched, the new person pushed their way into the room, stepping past their company before a thunk was heard. The sound forced her body to startle, jolting her muscles and kick starting her trembling again. An uncontrollable reaction to the fear she was under, the unrelenting motions causing a deep ache in her ribs.

The sound of rustling was now heard. It seemed they were looking for something. ‘They’re going to kill me. They’re digging around for a weapon to stab me with, to bash my head in, to murder me like they did my friends. I’m dead. I’m dead, I’mdeadI’mdeadI’mdead-’

Her racing thoughts consuming her fear riddled mind failed in picking up the sound of the other pair of footsteps slowly creeping round to the end of her bed. 

The person paused, silently crouching down low before a pair of hands reached under.

The sudden tight grip on her ankles followed up by the sudden pull had her screeching. Pure terror flooding her veins. She had been yanked out from under her bed, lying sprawled on the floor and gazing up at the towering man stationed above her. 

Her lungs burned, seizing up before a sickening scream escaped her. Fuelled by genuine, unrestrained horror. 

They had found her.

One of her lanterns they had brought in illuminated his face in a haunting light. The darkened shadows stretching and contorting behind him to create the most grim image for her mind to paint. Not that it was far off.

A foot standing on either side of her hips, straddling her if it wasn’t for his standing position. Hands nestled comfortably back in his trouser pockets now they had done the job of retrieving her. A comfortable looking long-sleeved shirt adorned his figure. Dark splatters starting from the bottom of his shoes and creeping their way up his legs, tapering off into a few spots that painted one of his cheeks.

An easy smile softly ingrained on his face, followed by gentle looking eyes peering down at her if it wasn’t for the malicious spiral she found herself paralyzed in. Dark locks of hair extended down his back, past where she could see from her position, with the top layers sectioned off and tied back into a bun.

His mouth opened and he spoke. “Well, well. Look what I’ve caught for us Satoru.”

Satoru. The other man must be Satoru Gojo, and this was Suguru. Suguru Geto. The most popular guys she knew, the supposedly kindest. And then staring in the library, the walk back from the shops, the gossip her most likely dead friend had told her.

Her body suddenly felt like it was pumped full of adrenaline. Pushing herself up as fast as she could, using the bed as support all the while stumbling over her numb riddled legs. She took off, running towards the open door she so desperately wanted to pass through. 

A sudden arm snatched her from around her waist and she screeched. Pure instinct driving her at this point as she scratched and kicked and flailed in his, Satoru Gojo’s, hold.

The sound of something dropping before his other arm came round, collecting both her wrists in one hand of his. His grip tightened the more she fought. Her body pressed tight against his, her back to his front. His head situated itself on her shoulder, tucking over and pressing his cheek to hers even while she cried and panted and kicked.

She could feel his grin pressing against the side of her face. “Such a pretty little thing we have here. Can’t let her get away so easily now, can we? Not after all the trouble we’ve gone through.” The last part practically whispered into her ear as she turned her face as far away as possible from him. 

A little laugh boasted out from Geto. “Of course not.” He strolled over to them, bending down to pick up what Gojo had dropped in order to restrain her.

Rope.

Fucking rope.

The moment her eyes zoned in and processed what Geto was unravelling in his hands she tried to fight back even harder. Eyes flooding with tears that spilled down her cheeks. Short mumblings of ‘no’ being repeated over and over while becoming louder until she was yelling. 

“Please don’t do this! Let me go! Please, please.. Stop!” She shrieked while sobbing, convinced they were going to kill her or torture her or something horrible like that.

Gojo walked the two of them to the edge of her bed before forcefully pushing her down, manhandling her onto her front and bending her arms to rest pressing against her back.  

She sobbed into her ruffled sheets as she felt Geto fastening the rope tight around her wrists, the rough material digging into and pinching the sensitive skin. Raw and red marks already forming amidst her struggle. 

Her legs still hung off the bed, trying their best to kick and hopefully injure one or both of them, but she knew it was a losing battle. None of her landing blows made them falter in any way.

When her wrists were successfully restrained Geto kept them pressed to the small of her back while Gojo let go and reached down to grab her ankles. Pulling them up and bending her legs at the knees while they both worked in finishing the task of tying her up.

When they finally stepped back to admire the work they’d successfully done, Y/n deflated. Tears soaking into her bed in which she rested on top of. Her lungs still burned, having never stopped. The hogtied position she had been forced into leaving her nothing to work with in terms of escaping. Not that she could think clearly anyway. The distress she was under proved too much.

“Oh, Shh Sh Sh… There, there, sweet thing. Settle down for us now. We aren’t going to kill you.” Cooed, who she could only guess right now was Gojo.

Geto reached forward from his position of kneeling on the bed, gentle soothing pets stroking her hair. Her sobbing tapering off into hiccupped breathing even while flinching with every touch. “There you go, good girl. See that wasn’t so hard now, was it?”

He pulled away from her, stepping down off the bed and heading towards the previously discarded bag on the floor Y/n hadn’t noticed before..

Y/n slowly turned her head round, no longer pressed into her sheets. Her eyes were red and bloodshot, swollen from all the crying she’d been doing. Little hiccups and groans left her while her lungs tried to recover. She’d given up struggling right now, it had done nothing but cause her pain as the rope dug and squeezed the skin of her wrists and ankles. 

Gojo piped up from behind her, only now feeling the heat from his legs pressing into hers causing her to flinch. “You know, this would’ve gone a whole lot easier if you had just let us in sweetheart.” She could practically hear the smug smile in his voice. “Look at where you are now, tied up all pretty for us. Ripe for the taking.” He pressed closer to her at that, voice practically dripping with need. 

She whined in fear and started squirming at his words. Panic flooding her senses again for just a second before a sharp tug to her hair had her yelping, halting her movements.

“I thought I told you to quit that.” Geto was back to kneeling on the bed in front of her, his hand gripping tight onto her hair, eyes narrowed. 

Her bottom lip trembled, breaths picking up with every second he glared down at her. 

“Don’t be so mean, Sugu.” Gojo said, a teasing lilt in his voice. 

Geto glanced back at him before humming and letting go of his harsh grip, her scalp burning in turn. “I suppose you’re right. She’ll have plenty of time to learn when we take her back home.”

Gojo hummed and she felt him leaning away from her, hearing him crouch down and fiddle with something from the bag as well. 

“Back home?..” She stuttered, voice hoarse and throat dry.

Geto looked back down at her, amusement painting his face. “Yes. Home.”

“Where..” She started, face formed in a twist of concern and confusion. “Please.. I.. Just let me go. I won’t- I won’t tell anyone, I’ll- I’ll leave you alone, I’ll do anything, please..” She gasped out, tears gathered freshly in her eyes again, voice cracking every few seconds. 

An amused eyebrow raised with the hint of a smirk at the corner of his mouth was all she got as a response. 

Gojo had come back, reaching round and fastening a strip of duct tape around her mouth in a sudden flurry of movement. Giving her no time to process what he had done until after he had done it. 

She cried out, the sound muffled thanks to the tape, worried eyes darting around in panic as she tried squirming again for the third time. 

Gojo pressed up behind her once again. “You’re not going anywhere, sweet pea! You’re ours now. We’ve had you picked out for a long time now.” The joy in his voice didn’t fail to put her on edge, his words doing their part in helping the tears gathered in her waterline to finally spill down her cheeks. Wetting the tape situated over her lips.

“He’s right.” Geto replied. Bringing one of his hands up to show what he had collected from the bag a few moments ago. The mobile phone in his hands glowed brightly in the dark room, the lamp from before having been moved, the light now dim.

“We’ll bring you back with us soon enough, but we still have a few more hours to kill before that. And why waste them.” Gojo said, the grin in his voice unsettling her, keeping her frozen in fear.

An easy smile pulled at Geto’s cheeks at that, head tilting to the side to gaze down at their pretty prey. 

“Well what are you waiting for then, Satoru?”

A pause. Smile pulling into a predatory grin.

“Have at it.”

[rarityroo]

Obviously Jax is bad at feelings; even worse with apologizing. He and his girl have their first big fight and she just gives him the cold shoulder to the point he’s frustrated. He’d definitely say something “Come on, doll face, I said I was sorry! What else do you want from me, woman?!”

Fumbling apologies

(Jax x Fem!reader)

Hi! Im sorry this took a bit, I sadly have strep and feel like I ate a cheese grater lmao. This isn’t proof read so please forgive me if this is wonky, I honestly really like writing for Jax so I’m very happy I got this request! If you like this please lmk, Enjoy!

You didn't mind Jax's crude nature, more often than not you found it funny. Sure his jokes and such were mean but he had a certain air about him you found so enjoyable. Until this moment at least...

"I just don't get what the big deal is!" Jax says in a dismissive tone. Your eyes flashed with frustration, was he serious? "It's not just about saying sorry, Jax. It's about meaning it! You can't just toss around apologies like they're nothing. I need to feel like you actually understand why I'm upset." Jax crosses his arms, a stubborn glint in his eyes. “Come on, doll face, I said I was sorry! What else do you want from me, woman?!” Jax said exasperated, he just wanted this to be over.

You shook your head, unbelieving. "I want you to acknowledge why I'm upset! I want you to understand how your actions hurt me." You were so sick of his insensitive jokes, or dismissive attitude whenever you try to talk about how you feel. He was so mean sometimes, but you still loved him.

Jax's frustration finally boils over, and he snaps, "Well, maybe if you weren't so damn sensitive, we wouldn't be in this mess!" "

Your eyes widen, hurt flashing across your face before it hardens into resolve. "Y'know what, fine. Jax, if that's how you feel, maybe we need some time apart." You started to regret those words, you didn't want him to go, you didn't want space but you were so exhausted from the constant back and forth. This has gone too far.

For a moment, silence hangs heavily between them, tension crackling in the air. Then, Jax's expression softens, regret seeping into his features. He knows he messed up. He knows he needs to make things right.

"I... I didn't mean that," he says quietly, his voice tinged with remorse. "I-I'm sorry, I didn't-." Jax was struggling to find the words, he doesn't like apologizing, he thinks it's a waste of his time and that it's below him although he knows he's wrong for what he said. You look at him, maybe he finally says a decent apology instead of brushing it off, maybe it was different this time.

You meet his gaze, your expression softening slightly. "Do you really mean that?"

Jax nods earnestly. "Yeah, I do." He said his eyes earnest, he looked embarrassed. "I know I'm not great at this stuff, but I want to try. I care about you alright? I don't want you to be all sad because of some dumb thing I said, I care about you or whatever." He finalized with a huff. You internally softly smile at that.

You take a deep breath, calming yourself, "I care about you too, Jax. But we need to communicate better. I don't want this to happen again."

He reaches out, gently taking your hand in his. "I promise I'll work on it. Starting with this." And then, with a tenderness he didn't know he possessed, Jax leans in and presses his lips to yours in a sweet, apologetic kiss. In that moment, the tension melts away, replaced by a warmth that spreads through you both. You may not be perfect, but you were willing to try, together.

[jade-len]

wait was it you that made a cishet guy read svsss and he kept saying a bunch of gay shit? how's that going

lmao yeah that's me. i lowkey forgot about giving updates lol (and got a bit scared because he was a little too close to finding this account), but he finished it a while back already!

i'll just provide some key thoughts and things here:

he was traumatized by the maigu ridge incident and had to skim that section. hated lbh for like a day but then began to self project onto him, sooo

kins luo binghe. heavily.

favorite character is shang qinghua. he's a proud moshang shipper

made an ao3 account just to read locked svsss fanfiction (he swore he'd never touch that site)

his favorites are "Pride Is Not The Word Im Looking For" and "Tarnished Gold"

wants to make a fanfic where sqq adopts sha hualing after the invasion, teaches her morals, and becomes a girl dad ??? "gay son (lbh) or thot daughter (shl)?" "both."

dream place is at bai zhan peak. he has a bai zhan gym routine. i will not elaborate.

"hates" svsss and me for tricking him into reading it but we all know he loves it (and me)

"WHY IS BINGQIU FUCKING EVERY OTHER CHAPTER" -him reading the extras

says he'll strangle me if he ever finds out what my account is and the site/app i've been using to showcase his torment.

overall he really likes and enjoys it. he's like, the only irl person i can actively talk to about sv and will reciprocate the convo. svsss actually made us way closer and better friends! so thanks mxtx for creating bonding material!

⬆️ him coping abt his love life through bingmei

edit: btw sorry to some of you guys who were expecting us to get into a homosexual relationship lmfao (im a third wheel to his very straight feelings for a woman)

[writingmeraki]

gents in dilemma.

a park sunghoon drabble !

pairing : rich!boy!sunghoon x gn!reader, teasing classmates to ???

genre : fluff/humour (?)

warnings : nothing just sunghoon using his privileges as a pretty rich boy lmao also no actual knowledge os spider-man comics im sorry if it's inaccurate <3 !

author's note : wooo! a double update ?!? who is thisss mayhaps very random but i told ya'll ( if u read my recent mingu drabble ) it's been a while since i realeased anything enha :( this was sort of a warm up to get back into writing for them! if you have any ideas pls send them in!! i rlly want to write for them again hehe &lt;3

sp dt to my enha moots ! @blue-jisungs ; @lheebra ; @haknom ; @odxrilove ; @hsgwrld ; @quaissants ; @enluv ; @hannie-dul-set ; @tqmies ; @byuqi ; @urszn ; @flwoie ; @tranquilpetrichor ; @hqrana ; @shuamorollss ; @strxwberry-skiess !! just to let you know i love u guys and think of you when i open this app 💌 !! i am ia a lot but i truly am grateful for you and your works 🩷!

word count : 1.2k

You were stuck there anyways. Your brother wouldn’t come pick you up earlier enough and all your friends left already so you found no point in wanting to leave and sit outside in the hot and humid weather where you’ll probably just end up with mosquito bites and sweaty skin. 

The song played in your earphones as you lazily flipped through the Spider-man comic. It was your newest hyperfixation and you had difficulties getting copies but you were getting there. 

Suddenly an intrusion popped in front of you as you got to the good part, but you paid no mind to whoever it was. 

Besides, who in their right mind would want to make small talk with a stranger in the damned detention room?

The music was dull but you could hear the sound of someone clearing their throat. Sighing, you put down the comic and looked unamused at the boy in front of you. 

Park Sunghoon. Rich, smart, pretty boy who lived up to all the stereotypes that clung to his personality while also hanging out with the same sort of people. Not a stranger you thought. 

You wondered how you missed seeing him and…Park Jonseong? (If you remembered correctly) walk in. Perhaps you indeed were too focused in your daydreams. 

Now amusement flickered in your gaze as you looked up at him. 

He definitely did live to his pretty boy name you mused as you took in the moles on his face, the shade of his pink lips, the messy yet perfectly sitting hair of his. 

He gulped under your calculating gaze, not knowing why he felt nervous all of a sudden when it was his idea to tell you not to say anything to Mr.Kim for when Jay and him would ditch the detention they got that day. He confidently told his friend he would threaten you if you didn’t comply, perhaps maybe bribe you a bit and surely it would do the trick.

But how his words seemed to bite right back at him because suddenly his mouth felt drier and tongue heavier under your gaze. For a brief moment, he wondered how he had never seen you, otherwise, he knew he wouldn’t be able to forget a face like yours. 

“Now now,what ever have I done to have the Park Sunghoon right in front of me?” You grinned teasingly at him and fuck you had dimples. He swore he might have died in that moment and reached heaven.

He felt a shove that snapped him out of his thoughts.

“Uh-yeah um we- wait you know me?” You raised a brow at his words, the amusement only growing as you saw the tip of his ears getting red.

Was he flustered…by you?

“ ‘course I do, it would seem weird if I didn’t at least to you people.” You murmured the last part, darting your eyes to his friend who seemed to roll his eyes.You weren’t sure if it was because of you or because of Sunghoon.

“Can you get to the point idiot-”

“Hey! Shut up, yeah? I’m talking-”

“All I see is you acting like a huge fucking si-”

They whispered to each other, almost making you giggle at the way they both seemed to be arguing over something, you figured you were somehow involved. 

“Well see- the thing is we’re going to ditch this.” You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, tilting your head a little as you leaned forward in your chair, placing your head on one hand.

“And? Does that concern me?”

“We don’t want you snitching, that’s what he meant. You can ditch too, Mr.Kim’s known for never coming back to his detentions once he leaves.” 

You shook your head, “I’m fine here, I have to wait anyways, you can-”

Suddenly a thought occurred to you, “Hmm, the snitching on you both part sounds tempting, I might even get brownie points, struggling with his class anyways.” 

No,he was not supposed to find your smirk cute, nor the mischievous glint in your eyes.

“What’s in it for me?”

“Wha- what’s in it for you?! You can ditch too! Didn’t I say that already-”

“Wait. I might have something.”

Jay stared at Sunghoon in both disbelief and annoyance while you looked at him curiously. He set his bag down and opened it, pulling out something.

“Here.”

You couldn’t believe your eyes. The newest edition of the Spider-man series. You’d been trying for ages to get it, but held yourself back when you saw the triple digit price point. 

Of course he’d have this. 

You gasped in disbelief, looking in awe as you grabbed it and flipped through the pages. Sunghoon found it absolutely cute the way your eyes lit up. 

He was concerned about how enduring he already found you in the span of approximately 10 minutes. 

“It’s too expensive, I can’t-”

“Who said I am giving it to you? I’m letting you borrow it so you won’t rat us out.”

It seemed the tables turned and it was your turn to be flustered under his teasing gaze and he did in fact have a cute grin. Shit-eating one but adorable. 

“I’ll take it to my grave.” You hugged the comic to your chest and did a zipping your mouth motion, throwing away the pretend key. He let out a chuckle at your actions and the sound absolutely did not do something to your heart ( You think it might have burst ). 

Jay had been observing the interaction and he knew why exactly Sunghoon did what he was doing. Seems like the supposed ‘ice’ prince was melting at your mere presence. Oh he was so going to spill everything to the rest of his friends and tease him for the life of it. 

Sunghoon’s gaze moved towards your phone, seeing it was still unlocked he took it while you yelped in alarm, “Hey! I said I won’t say anything!”

You had stood up from your chair and now only realised just how much taller he was than you when he began to type something with his hands raised above you. 

“Here. My number and I rang it to have yours. Call me when you’re done reading, I expect to get my comic back soon enough.” He held your hand and plopped your phone in it, while you remained frozen at his bold moves. Even the blonde next to him was surprised at his actions, that probably said a lot to you. 

He swung his arm around Jay who had an amused grin as he shook his head, waving bye to you, pausing for a moment when he realized something as he looked back at you.

“What’s your name?” 

“Uh-oh um,” You were still in a trance at what just happened as you said your name, not as confidently as you wished and you cursed yourself mentally for already being so hung up on his actions. 

He repeated it as if testing it out, “See you soon then,” He grinned at you as you just chose to wave back, thinking you might just say something stupid. 

Looking down at your phone, you saw his number and back at the comic book that laid on the desk, you grinned bashfully, shaking your head as you laughed.

Maybe just maybe, Park Sunghoon wouldn't have to wait until you finished the comic for you to see him. 

all written works as well as images and edits (unless credited) belong to pri. do not plagiarise, repost, re-edit or claim as yours. pics mostly found on pinterest.

writingmeraki Ⓒ 2024

feedback is always appreciated 💌

links : main navi ! | enhypen masterlist !

[gyuswhore]

How to Win Hearts for Dummies (the answer is lattes and banana bread)

Idol!mingyu x makeup-artist!reader

genre: fluff, angst, one sided pining

warnings: slow burn, swearing, shitty bosses, some descriptions of anxiety and breakdowns, one sided pining, reader has issues opening up (lmk if there's anything else)

13.4k words (im sorry)

plot: This apprenticeship was taking a toll on your self control in the worst possible way. Walking in 8 months ago, a resignation from your corporate job and a dream in your pocket, you made an oath to stay focused on the goal at hand and to enjoy what you did for a living for once; makeup. Except, your still stuck as an apprentice with a mentor that has no inclination for your growth.

And you’re a little bit in love with your client.

masterlist

(A/N): repost bc Tumblr wouldn’t show it in the tags!!! Thank you for clicking on this clonking my pants as I hit post ! I started working on this at the beginning of exam season and I’m posting it the night before my last exam 🥲 what a full circle moment. Also pls excuse any inconsistencies or grammatical errors, my beta reader, unlike me, actually cares ab her grades and is in the beginning of exam season and therefore will not be able to read through this monstrosity for a while lmao. Enjoy hehe

Edit: I’ve just realised how many mistakes and grammatical errors I’ve made throughout the fic, serves me right for proofreading at 3 AM after a stats exam. I’ll try to fix them all asap!!! 

The camera goes off again with a distinct click. And again. And again. And again.

The camera had gone off innumerable times since Mingyu walked out in another themed ensemble, and you were there, watching, through all of it.

You watched as he kept switching positions, rotating his body and his head. Morphing his features into more variations of dazed and serious than you thought could ever exist.

Standing there, at the portable table behind the main setup, attempting to clean a lip brush that would be needed soon when the inevitable call for-

“Makeup over here! We’re taking 5”

You note your sluggish pace as you snap out of your daze and scrubbing harder with the removal cloth. Snapping your head down, hoping nobody noticed your incessant heart eyes, you realize you were in trouble now.

‘Y/n, you’ve been cleaning that brush since I left 10 minutes ago!’ The senior makeup artist snapped.

You finish up the brush in hand and quickly hand her what she needs, not before rummaging for the tiny pot of lip product you absent-mindedly packed away.

‘Sorry, really sorry’ you choke out before she leaves in her badly concealed irritated expression. You see her make a beeline for a waiting Mingyu, who adorably squats for the woman so she has better access.

This apprenticeship was taking a toll on your self control in the worst possible way. Walking in 8 months ago, a resignation from your corporate job and a dream in your pocket, you made an oath to stay focused on the goal at hand and to enjoy what you did for a living for once; makeup. Except, your still stuck as an apprentice with a mentor that has no inclination for your growth.

And you’re a little bit in love with your client.

It's not that you were overage (your mother begs to differ), but considering you were on your second big girl job and still no sign of a potential lover, the prospect was starting to weigh on your head. The first rattling experience was when one of your closest friends announced her engagement, your thoughts still stuck in a 19 year old you considered she was too young. She was not, in fact, 19, or too young, but a perfectly acceptable age to consider marriage with someone she loved, you had soon realized. You were never one for the dating scene, but you were always one to don your Dr. Love labcoat whenever an emotionally bruised friend would come seeking help. You were good at advice, but awfully bad at applying it yourself.

Coming into this job, surrounded by a plethora of beautiful people, your heart would be of stone if it weren’t to waver.

The gong of unattainability had struck the second you laid eyes on Mingyu, laughing at something Hoshi had shown him on the phone. There he was, hair and makeup-less, looking like he had just rolled out of bed (which he had), and beautiful as ever. Beginning this new chapter with a bang, only problem was that it turned into an 8 month shoot out. Having encountered a number of gorgeous people, you’d learned to appreciate their genetic lottery pull and move on. But never had a single look left you as breathless and unbeared as that one, fateful look at Mingyu. One of the team members was busy assuring you not to worry too much about the pandemonium in the dressing room, that everyone would handle it and you were only asked to observe and help with smaller things as instructed; for now. You weren’t listening too hard though.

You were now adjusted to the chaos that comeback season and 13 men plus staff in a microscopic dressing room brought about. But you will never forget how in the midst of your first rain of hell, Mingyu had asked you to pass his phone.

‘Please?’ He had said, and you slammed your hand with a force of a woman infatuated on the table behind you and (literally) breathed out the first thing you had ever said to him.

‘Here’

He smiled and gave you a quick ‘thanks’.

There was no coming back after he flashed you those irresistible canines, and to this day, you wonder what nation you saved in a previous life to be able to have him know your name, hear it roll off his tongue in his pretty voice as he asks you to fix his smudged eyeliner.

You sigh defeatedly before your mentor slash irritated makeup artist shoves her load back in your hands and instructs you to come inside to pack up. It’s become routine for you now, as you begin to pack up the bigger palettes and tools, handing a ready-to-go-home Junhui the pack of makeup wipes he asked for, zipping up bags and closing tubs of outfits. It's an organized chaos but one everybody has grown to work around.

Mingyu is done before you, as he removes his jewelry and begins to shrug off his jacket. You scramble to find the clothes he came in and his coat, pointedly ignoring the familiar scent of wood. He thanks you and shucks off the remainder of his clothing, he might be used to stripping in front of professional staff, but you look away regardless for your own sanity.

Helping the last stylists hang the final jacket, you grab your bag and get ready to leave in your own car. Mingyu has left, not before throwing a “you did well, thank you!” over his shoulder at the remaining people in the room and leaving for the honking car outside.

***

Your mashing bananas in a bowl at 12 AM when you start thinking. Impulsive baking sessions had become a norm since you started working with Seventeen, needing to keep yourself occupied to stop spiraling. Mingyu was a recurring topic (surprise surprise), but one that quickly faded when you begin to think about what the future holds for you. You start mashing the banana harder. You consider the idea that you can’t complain, being in a position some of the most well seasoned pros had difficulty reaching. Being a single young woman and being allowed so close to some of the most unattainable men was seen as near impossible. You’d like to think it was your skill that got you here but can never seem to fully rule out a processing error.

It’s hard, being stuck in the same place. Your apprenticeship should have ended 2 months ago, but even if it had, you’d still be doing the same thing. The senior artist trusts no-one but a select few to work on the boys for photoshoots, events, music videos. People like you are left to sanitize sponges and clean the fallout.

You crack an egg on the counter and it splits open entirely, falling on the floor, yolk and all. Your inability to grow stays within the idea that you can’t really do your artistry like you want.

And how you never learn to crack your eggs on the bowl.

***

Showing up on the Going Seventeen set, you rush to the dressing room way earlier than you should. Being completely honest, you’re really only rushing because you want to maneuvere yourself to do Mingyu’s makeup before somebody else snags him. This was one of the very few engagements where you were occasionally allowed to take charge on makeup. Not that it was required for the show much at all; intensity and occasion wise. Your rare (possible) moment to (maybe) come into Mingyu’s organic notice was an opportunity never to be dropped by you.

You help setting up everything on the counters as the boys begin to (loudly) file in the rooms. You see Mingyu walk in and move to ask him to sit down once he’s done discarding his coat. He was first in line and you ‘happened’ to be the first one ready to begin working.

‘Is the eye makeup heavy? I just got a sty removed and I don’t know if I should be putting anything on at all.’ He asks as he sits down and you ready your damp sponge.

‘Not really, just smoothing things out. It should be fine.’ you say as you begin to press the compact on his cheek.

Your not really sure why, because you’ve never been able to muster anything above brief replies when in contact with him, but something in you pushes you to keep talking.

‘I’m surprised they even asked for us, they rarely ever do’ you continue, heart pounding so hard you’re afraid he might hear it.

He breathes out a laugh ‘Yeah. They even started advertising the show on youtube and subway stations and stuff, I didn’t know until I saw someone talk about it online’

You smile at his response ‘Well, all of you work so hard, it's about time they pull this to a high scale production’

‘It's never really work if your having fun, we try to be ourselves on here’ He replies, still smiling slightly.

You’re damn near close to collapsing on the floor at this point. This is the longest conversation you’ve ever had with him. You opt to smile in response as you start to concentrate on his eyebrows. The rest of his face is done far too soon as you zone out and do what you do best.

‘All done’ you announce as you pull away from his lips, trying not to have yoour gaze linger.

“Y/n! Can you start on Vernon if you're done?’, another artist calls from behind.

‘Yeah, he can come up!’ you reply as Mingyu (regretfully) walks towards hair.

Just because you sew your mouth shut with Mingyu doesn’t mean it applies for the rest of them, you’re quite friendly with all of them and Vernon does well to remind you as he sits down and quips a ‘hey bestieee’ in an elongated greeting.

You audibly laugh ‘That’s another word I’ll be hearing for the next month’

‘Regretfully so’ He feigns sympathy.

‘Be quiet and look up’ you say with a fond smile before you get started on him.

***

You sit on the floor in front of your television, trail mix on the coffee table as the movie plays as background noise for your thoughts - again.

There’s a smile on your face, but you dont notice as you think about the small talk you made with Mingyu today, wondering if it could become a regular occurrence if you learned to keep your heart and mind in check.  

You were never one to stand up and take effort to do what was right for you, which is why you were talked into choosing Business Administration by your friend in highschool, who you never speak to now because she decided to ditch you for another group who were more inclined to shuttle themselves to liver failure by partying every last weekend in your entire college career. You were talked into applying to corporate jobs by your counsellors as you started looking for make-up courses, needing to abandon your dream for the second time when you landed a decent entry level desk job. It took years before you decided to choose yourself for once and made the big leap after multiple courses you had took on the side. Life was starting to look bright after getting hired here, but you’re not sure if you overrode a high or if you went back to your old zipped mouth state after you settled in. Never sure if you expected too much or if things really were as stagnant as they felt.

***

Overmanifestation can be a thing. You're not really sure how it works but you’re reaping what you’ve sowed right about now.

You’re currently standing in an offside corridor in a hotel lobby, clad in a pretty white floral dress, and a nervous, fidgety Mingyu standing in front of you.

'I know I'm asking you to do something difficult and I know it seems pointless because I'm not doing anything wrong either that you have to lie about it'

This was supposed to be a staycation with your friends for you to relax and get your mind off things. Your ticket to relaxation has become a nightmare.

'And I understand I'm being super unreasonable but I'm really trying to keep it on the down-low as we get to know each other'

You were waiting with your friends on the couches positively stuffing your faces with the complimentary chocolate bowl placed on the coffee table as a couple other friends checked you guys into your rooms. You were laughing and talking with your group, carefree and ready to have a week of well deserved rest.

That was the plan anyway. Until you see someone across the lobby, also in line at check in. He had an unmistakable toothy smile,and was hand in hand with a concealed brunette.

Your smile abruptly falls in disbelief as you feel your world halt around you.

The same hands come up to brush the hair out of the woman's face to place a kiss on her temple, smiling wide.

The nauseating feeling of ice going down your spine is becoming more and more apparent. You attempt to swallow the lump in your throat but it's like trying to swallow a brick. You lick your lips and attempt to look away but your eyes keep feeding on the picture you painted yourself in your worst nightmares. Realizing you're on the brink of possible hyperventilation, your friend drops her head and asks you if you're okay. You look up at her, not knowing what to say as you realize that nodding furiously will convince her.

Mingyu has a girlfriend.

Of course he would. What were you thinking? This man is one of the most eligible bachelors in the country, why on earth would he be single? You’re unhinged, you decide, for thinking you may have a chance, when the woman turns around and you see her in full. She’s gorgeous.

A part of you still wants to believe that you're officially past the point of sanity and that you've begun to see Mingyu in every tall man. The universe, however, is cruel. He pushes his head up and in your general direction, and locks eyes with you in unmistakable recognition.

He stops smiling.

So here you are listening to Mingyu asking you to keep this a secret from the company, to forget the woman waiting for him in the lobby.

You can only nod in slight motions as he goes on his rant to justify his oath to secrecy, managing a tight lipped smile as you miraculously find your voice, hoarse as it may be.

'Don't worry about it, I understand' - ouch - 'it's none of my business anyway. I'll keep my lips sealed, I promise'

'Thank you, thank you, thank you I appreciate it so much, you don't even know. I'll repay you soon I promise'

'No, please, it's not-'

'No, Y/n I will. You're being really good to me right now and I'm so grateful. I'm sorry for putting you through this while you're off from work and with friends. It's worth to me that your listening and understanding'

You're tired. You want nothing but for him to stop talking. So you smile again and shake your head.

'I'm sure your friends are waiting, I won't keep you. I'll see you soon though!'

And with that he leaves. Back to the lobby where you see him take the woman by hand once again. You watch again as they walk to the elevators, stepping in and disappearing when the doors close. You watch the floor number rise.

1, 2, 3, 4, 5…

You walk back to your laughing friends before you can see where they got off.

***

Retiring to your shared hotel room with Chaeyoung, you fall back first into the crisp sheets and mattress.

'Why're you so depressed dude, did Mingyu say something to you?' She asks, a slight line forming between her brows.

'I'm fine, I've been up since 5 today it's just fatigue hitting me right now' you reassure, like always. 'I might not go to dinner with you guys, might end up with my face in the soup at some point'

Chaeyoung hums. ‘Take the night off so you can gear up for the rest of the week. I'm letting you off for now but I expect full attendance for eveything else we do', finishing with a mocking stern look.

'Yes ma'am' you feign salute from the bed, mimicking her stern tone.

You've known Chaeyoung for quite a while now, meeting her in your last year of uni. Trusting her as you do, you were never fully able to fess up about your feelings for Mingyu. Fear of judgment wasn't the problem, but more so the strange feeling of shame that overcomes you when you think about talking about it with other people. It's quite beyond you, why you act this way. You loved your friends and you knew they would support you with everything, they'd proved it when you'd made one of the most difficult decisions of your life while leaving your job. But the idea of having the audacity to love someone who could never do the same seemed like a feat of embarrassment.

Who are you, y/n? Who are you to have foolish dreams of a girl in love? With someone clearly fit for all things greater than you?

Maybe this was a good thing, you thought, the weird feeling in your stomach returning. Maybe this was the universe telling you to give up and move on, a kind of rejection that keeps your dignity. This was nothing but a reality check, a sign from whatever wants best for you, to bring your attention back to what brought you to Mingyu in the first place.

***

You didn’t see Mingyu for the rest of the trip, which you were grateful for not knowing how you’d react if you had to see him so soon after, that.

Back massaged and head clearer than it had been for weeks, you feel more in control of your feelings and thoughts regarding your life. You hope the conversation with Mingyu was the last stressful thing you’d encounter for a while.

It’s almost comeback season, you realise as you see the new concept photos while scrolling on your couch at home. This meant insanely early mornings for weeks on end, but you had to push through for your own sake. You’d come out of multiple comebacks needing a brace for a month but you wouldn’t trade it for the world. Never realising the true meaning of learning through experience, you were enlightened as you entered this new, very hands on field. The concept looked interesting, hoping the scraps of makeup you’d be allowed to do would be fun for you.

That ended up being true when you were, for the first time, asked to do Hoshi’s full makeup for their first comeback broadcast.

Your stumped silence was short lived as you hastily oblige and get the chair ready for him. You’d looked at the demo sheets and face charts too much for someone who wasn’t actually going to be asked to do much, but you see it pay off as you finish his eyes and get started on the rest of his face. It was easy for you to zone out as Soonyoung had passed out not even 5 minutes in, having someone hold his face as you worked.

You felt your chest swell with an indesipherable feeling as you watched him get up with your mastery on his face; pride, was it? You were getting emotional for no reason. Your attention, however, is moved sharply when you hear someone tell Mingyu it was his turn, finding him plopped on your chair staring straight into nothingness as he’d just been rudely awoken from his nap. He doesn’t realise it’s you for a solid minute as he tried to remember his own name.

‘Oh, hello’ he says, sort of confused. ‘Sorry, just give me minute’, he mumbles as he rubs his eyes.

He stretches back onto his seat signalling he’s ready for you to get started. You trying not to feel too much in your stomach as you begin.

You’re powdering his forehead when he says “I know I already said this but I really appreciate what you’re doing”

You know he’s talking about the conversation at the hotel, you were hoping you could avoid it.

“I told you not to worry about it, honest.” You reply, and somehow manage to choke out “It makes me happy that you’re happy”

You can see him trying to fight a smile, “Thank you for saying that”.

You wanted to stab someone. But you opt for gently brushing a base colour across his eyes.

“Do any of us know her, by any chance?” You ask cautiously.

“I dont think so. We met through mutual friends at a Christmas dinner, we didn’t start talking till she had to bring me a bunch of papers I’d left at my mom’s that day.” his face depicts someone reminiscing a fond memory.

It was cute, how it seemed like fate was trying to bring them together. It would've been cuter if you weren’t in a one sided pining with one of the two lovers.

“Well, I hope it works out for the both of you”

No you don’t.

“I hope so too”

You don’t hope that at all.

You felt guilty, feeling all of this. Hated that this was your first response to him wanting to be happy. Never would you have imagined stooping this low, hoping his happiness doesn’t work out for your sake. You’d like to owe it this being your first real infatuation, but you can’t help but wonder if this was really what you thought.

You decided to focus on the good news for today, that you’re finally allowed to do your actual job. You can only hope this wasn’t a temporary advancement, allowing time to tell.

Things remained the same the following day, much to your absolute elation. You were done doing 4 people’s makeup and was just winding down to take a break, quite satisfied with yourself. You observed as the rest of the boys got their hair done and run around, half in their outfits. You stifle a snort as you watch Jeonghan hide Minghao’s socks in his pockets as the boy tried to find them to put his shoes on, the former continuing to sip on his coffee seemingly unaware.

“Y/n, have you seen my socks? The green ones with the leaves on it?” Hao inevitable asks you.

You’re forced to feign confusion when Jeonghan pokes his head behind him signalling you to keep up the charade. He continues to look and you’re just about to have mercy on the poor boy before a to-go cup of coffee is shoved in front of your face.

You look up at the person and it’s Mingyu extending his arm at you expectantly.

“Oh, I didn’t order anything” you start, thinking you’re clearing up a confusion.

“I know you didn’t, got one for you anyway.”

There’s a record screech in your brain as you absorb his words.

“Think of it as me trying to repay the favour”

Oh. I see.

You’re a little embarrassed thinking he’d get one for you in that way, not when he had someone waiting on him. You accept the cup and mumble a thank you as he unexpectedly plants himself on the couch next to you.

“I saw you drinking lattes a lot of the times, so I just got you that. Hope that’s okay”.

Your silent for a moment before replying “Yes!” a little bit too loudly, eyes widening a little realisng your lack of volume control.

He knows your coffee order.

“Yes,” you say again in a normal tone and a slight laugh to cover up your inability to read the room, “They’re my favourite actually”

Kim Mingyu knows you like latte’s. This wasn’t good for your delusional brain.

Your conversation is cut short when the boys are called for roll call before they can prepare for the actual stage. You watch him get up and leave to file into the overstuffed elevators, not before he throws you the most adorable wave you’ve ever seen. You can’t hold back your smile as you wave back and look down at the drink he got you before taking a sip.

***

As it turns out, you did makeup for the rest of their comeback season, and Mingyu, without fail, got you an iced latte every single day before leaving to go on stage.

You tried to get him to stop, but he was rooted in his position and you didn’t have it in you to say no to his pleading eyes. It was a re-charge for you, when you’d seen him break into a happy smile, prominent canines that you’d grown to adore. He’d done more than enough to ‘repay’ you for swearing to secrecy, and you felt like you too, should  should repay him the balance.

So here you were, making banana bread in your kitchen again, careful to remember to crack your eggs on the rim of your mixing bowl instead of slamming them on the counter. You’re stirring the flour in when a classified devious thought occurs to you.

These past two weeks were pivotal for both you and Mingyu, daily coffee’s meant daily conversations, which meant getting to know one another more. You’d exchanged phone numbers in the midst of all of this, to which ensued the agenda of staying up till midnight talking to each other about the meaning of life.

Setting down the whisk, you pick up your phone and sent the text before you chickened out.

[You]: I have a surprise for you.

[You]: You wanna come over? It’s better enjoyed fresh lol

[Mingyu]: Ma’am? 👁👁

[Mingyu]: That sounds a whole lot like a booty call

[You]: *attachment*

[Mingyu]: IS THAT CAKE??

[Mingyu]: omw 😮‍💨

You send the location and set your phone down, a jittery feeling going through your entire body. There’s a spring in your step as you slide the loaf into the oven and set a timer. You turn around your kitchen island and register the pigsty that is your apartment. The girls were over the night before and you had done nothing to enlighten the aftermath, pillows strewn across the entire living room and snack wrappers in places you’re not sure how they landed.

By the time you’re done and spritzed the place with some of your nicer perfumes, your taking the loaf out of the oven and on a rack to cool.

Ever the punctual man, you hear the doorbell ring just as your taking your oven mitts off.

Hoping you’ve done enough to your apartment to save yourself from embarrassment, you collect yourself and open the door for him through your ringcam. He’s barely through when your rushing towards your doorway.

“Hi!”

“Hey,” he grunts as he tries to slip off his shoes.

“‘aight, where’s my cake?” he demands once he’s done giving you a quick hug.

You roll your eyes and usher him to the kitchen, “First of all, appreciate how excited you are to see me, and second, its banana bread not cake, sorry to burst your bubble”

He responds to your grumbling with an “Oh come on, you can't put freshly baked goods on the agenda and expect me to pay particular attention to anything else”.

He has his trademarked grin and cheesy stare out on display like its nobody’s business, you want to slap it off of him in the most loving way possible, but you settle with a tiny “shut up”.

“I brought warm coffee this time, thought it’d go better” He sets the to-go carrier on the kitchen counter, following you to where you were attempting to slice the still hot banana bread on a tray.

“Oh, that was a good idea” you say.

“Where’re your plates and forks?” he asks, pulling out the drawers and cabinets you signal to.

It all felt too domestic for your weak heart to handle. Not to say it didn’t warm you to the core how comfortable he felt in your space, you did, more than you’d care to admit. But he needed to tone it down before you required an organ transplant.

You were seated on the floor, butts parked on floor cushions, backs against the couch. The coffee table held all of your goods while you both argued on which movie to watch.

“I can’t believe you haven’t watched any of the Harry Potter movies! No, we’re watching philosopher’s stone, I don’t care!” You shout in disbelief, already typing it into the search bar on the TV.

“Philly-philo- bro I can’t even pronounce it why would I watch that?!” He yells back, snatching the remote from you.

You’re both a giggling, screaming mess on the floor as you keep trying to steal the remote from each other, not stopping until one of you bumps into the table and you almost spill hot coffee all over yourselves.

You decide to call a truce and pick another movie entirely.

Just as you’re pressing play, Mingyu takes a bite of the still (surprisingly) warm banana bread and you watch as his eyes roll to the back of his head.

“This is so good” He says, his faced furrowed as he goes in for another bite. “Did you lace this with something, why is this so good?”

You’re biting back a snarky remark but you let it rip anyway; “It’s cuz these pretty hands made it”

You splay your hands out in front of your face, like your showing him your rings, fingers wiggling and a cheeky smile on your face.

He looks unimpressed as he scoffs. He swallows before saying: “At least you didn’t call the secret ingredient love or something”

“Excuse you, I’m pretty sure I heard you say that in some Gose episode” You remark.

He turns to you, all smug: “So your saying you watch Gose? Like, regularly?”

You immediately turn away from his taunting smirk, “Sometimes, if it shows up on my home page”

You take a sip of your latte before he asks you another sweat producing question.

“Oh, but you pay attention to me the most don’t you? Don’t you?”

He’s poking fun at you, you know that. But a paranoid part of you can’t help but think he’s onto you and your feelings.

So you say something maybe a little bit below the belt.

“You sure have a knack for seeking validation from the world when you have a partner already giving that to you”

The words tumble out of your mouth before you know it. In your defence, you're doing this for a greater cause, but it's still a relief when you see him comically gasp, hand to his diaphragm.

“Just because your alone in life, doesn’t mean you need to be salty about other people receiving actual love” He spits back.

Your sputtering trying to think of a response. Deserved.

He grabs a slice of the bread and shoves into your mouth to shut you up once and for all. You’re left chewing the mouthful and staring at him in shock.

He giggles and takes a sip of coffee, satisfied with himself. When he sets it down he opens his mouth to speak. Closes it again, like he re-evaluating, and finally decides to say something. He’s serious now.

“Ji Eun and I, decided it wasn’t gonna work out between us”.

Oh.

“Oh.”

He blows a raspberry and lets out a meek laugh.

“Yeah, oh. It’s whatever, it wasn’t meant to work out. Better sooner than later.”

You’re trying to find the words to reply or comfort him.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” You ask him, being careful to not lace your voice with pity, but more neutral and open. “You don’t have to, obviously, but it might be better to talk about what’s bothering you”

He pauses for a moment before starting.

“She wasn’t sitting very well with the idea that she had to share me. Like at all. She wouldn’t say it but she’d get mildly infuriated when I’d blow the fans a kiss or something, or interacted with the staff too much. I was getting home quite late certain days during comeback season and I’d find her outside the dorm at like 11 PM. It was embarrassing when all of the other members would see her there, obviously upset and basically yelling at me for, for - for literally just doing my job.I guess all the smaller things just started piling and she couldn’t take it. I tried so hard to make sure she felt wanted and secure in the relationship but nothing felt like it was ever enough. She was evasive or confrontational all at the wrong times and it came to a point- its a horrible thought to have in a relationship - but I was terrified she’d do something rash and I’d wake up to my face on articles for some reason - again”

You recollected the past couple years when Mingyu was thrown around in the media for a new accusation seemingly everyday. You weren’t involved with anything regarding the industry back then, but you’d heard enough news to be aware of what was happening.

Your heart swelled with sadness as you heard him talk, he sounded like he was trying- trying hard to be good enough. All for a person who seemed to have their priorities set somewhere else.

“She was amazing; kind and happy and confident. She treated my parents with respect, she was best friends with my sister. I know we only lasted like 3 months but at some point I really considered that she could be the one. But then the problems started and I realized she was only becoming an added factor to stress and anxiety for me more than anything else.

“I liked her because she was so family oriented, and I thought that was what would fit me because I’m like that too. But, I guess I’m just a different kind of oriented? I don’t know. I have a job that’s both interpersonal and unpredictable. There’s days where I don’t wanna get up and do work but I still love it nonetheless. I guess she just expected me to have a predictable, stable 9 to 5. Home in time for dinner, not requiring interaction with too many people; basically everything I can’t be.”

He’s silent for a moment.

You start talking after a couple beats.

“I really hope you aren’t taking this like it’s your fault. She made a choice to put up with your work, knowing how it would be for the both you. You tried your best but she made you feel like your best wasn’t good enough. I dunno about you, but that sounds like a really problematic conclusion. If she truly cared for you and what you love, she would never have been this unsupportive or not understanding”.

He’s listening to you, his expression is blank but you can tell he’s absorbing your words.

“I’d like to think I had realized that. But being completely honest, I’m not really sure when my thoughts go back to me thinking I’m the problem all the time.”

He manages a smile, a wide one, as he looks up to make eye contact with you; “But I know it’ll take me some time to really start believing that it’s not entirely my fault. We just weren’t compatible, and that’s fine. We left on good terms, and I’m happy about that.”

You smile with him as he finishes, but your a little confused when he starts sliding closer and down the cushions.

He sets his head on your shoulder.

You may have shortcircuited right then and there.

“Is this okay?” he asks you quietly, attention finally diverted to the half played movie.

You realise he asked you a question and you have to answer.

“Yeah, this is fine” You breathe out, somehow, by the graces of God himself.

No, you weren’t fine at all. You felt like the universe had flipped a faulty switch, mixed up the scripts, lost the plot, something. But as you get used to the weight of Mingyu’s head on your shoulder, you pray it won’t come back to haunt you in another chapter.

***

Your routine became inverted in the sense that, what you once had to plan out so intricately, is unfolding with no effort from you at all.

You find that Mingyu waits for you to be done with somebody else so you can do his makeup, instead of sitting on another free chair. He’d come to you specifically to touch up his makeup instead of going to an artist he saw closer to him. He never forgot to get you a coffee whenever it was that he saw you.

Mingyu hadn’t slept over that night, instead leaving in his car despite the 1 AM drizzle and your insistence for him to stay until the pour recedes.

Maybe it was better for you that he hadn’t stayed that night. Something about how you grew so close ‘organically’ made you feel like this wasn’t all in your head, that he’s choosing to be your friend.

You’re handing him his clothes as he begins to change, using the excuse to whisper to him;

“I was gonna try a new brownie recipe tonight, if you’re free you can come over?”

“I think I have somewhere to be after this but I’m free after, How’s 6?”

So there you are, back in your kitchen folding chocolate chunks into your brownie batter while waiting for Mingyu to get here.

Your phone dings from the island and you check to see a message from Mingyu sending you what looked like a grocery list; pasta, oregano, garlic…

[Mingyu]: Tell me what you don’t have from this

[Mingyu]: I’m at the store rn hurry up

You send him a list of what you don’t have, realising he intended to have dinner with you too.

[Mingyu]: k thanks

[Mingyu]: be there in like an hour

There’s a warm feeling that’s swelling in your chest, that makes you wanna punch a wall because your so happy. You choose self control, mostly because this apartment is on a lease but also you’d probably break your knuckles trying to punch anything harder than a foam mat.

By the time Mingyu’s here, the brownies are in the oven and you’re almost done with the icing. He unpacks the groceries (and the warm lattes) he bought while you finish up, confirming that he was trying a new pasta recipe tonight. Setting the brownies and coffee down on your usual coffee table, you decide wait a couple hours before starting on making dinner, instead choosing to hear him ramble about an idol he met at an award show.

“So, we start talking before we’re ready to go up- you weren’t there you were working on wonwoo’s makeup- and he starts complimenting me and so obviously I start complimenting him back”

He’s waving his arms around, and setting positions with coasters on the table trying to explain the setting.

“He asks me if I have a sister and I’m like… yes? Which I should’ve realised where this was going because he then” - he pauses to take a deep breath - “this absolute asshat decides it’d be funny to ask me for her number because apparently ‘if you’re this hot, I’m sure any sibling you have is too’ BRO, WHY THE FUCK WOULD YOU SAY THAT - how are laughing at this?!”

You calm yourself down for a second to clarify, “NO! It’s just hilarious how he thought that was okay to say”

You’re still still giggling in shock when Mingyu calms down, now also laughing incredulously.

“But actually though, please tell me you smacked him” you manage.

“I would have,” he grumbles “I got called to fix my hair cuz I ruined it or something”.

“Oh well, now you know who to avoid next time,” you say as you guide a bite of brownie into his mouth, “Forget about it now, eat sugar, it’ll help”

He chews a bit before swallowing, all while you’re watching him with an endeared smile on your face.

“Y’know, I really thought you didn’t like me when you first joined the team”

You pause mid sip of your coffee, brows furrowed, “What do you mean?”

“You never really talked me, did you? You were friendly with the rest of them but it just seemed like you never wanted to enter a room if you saw me there”

You’re looking at him in utter shock, this man was mistaking your avoidant (yet also pushy) teenage crush behaviour for dislike.

He’s looking at you expectantly, a little pout on his face.

“I never disliked you, why would you think that? I promise everything was a coincidence, it was nothing like that”

“Don’t get so defensive, kinda obvious you like me now if not before” He laughs at your panicked expression.

He meant platonic like.

“I’m sorry I made you feel like that though, I’ve been told I have a pretty serious resting bitch face, it’s gotten me in trouble before” she smile sheepishly.

“It’s fine, you made up for it with that first banana bread” He says before taking another bite of brownie, “Could use more chocolate chunks”

You snort before pushing him with a sock clad foot, “Appreciate me even giving them to you” 

You fall back to the adjacent sofa.

It’s quiet for a moment. But you feel like something’s shifted in the air.

You watch as he brings his hand to the same foot, holding onto your ankles. He’s caressing the exposed skin with his fingers, moving them back and forth. His eyes are glued to yours, looking like he’s in a trance. You’re not sure how to register this new change in mood, suddenly feeling like you need to turn the aircon on during the bleak Seoul winter. Just as you're hoping you don’t start sweating, you feel his vice grip on your ankle pull your leg over with a sharp tug. You scream as you lose support of the sofa and fall back.

You sit up in shock to find him leaning with his elbows on the floor, cackling like madman.

“Mingyu, what the fuck?”

“You-” He stops to laugh again, “You should’ve seen your face, PLEASE, it was hilarious”.

You huff before getting up shoving his shoulder with your foot again, “You’ve been playing guest a little too long, maybe it’s time you get started on that pasta”

“Will I be blessed enough to be receiving her highness’s help?” He asks.

He looks like a dream, clad in his T-shirt because he claims he doesn’t get cold. Hands behind him on the floor to give him support as he stares up at you, smiling wide. He’s looking at you with eyes full of stars and glitter.

You muster up the courage to give him a nasty glare, to which he huffs at and gets up, “Such a meanie”.

It’s hard to conceal your smile as his back his turned, sachaying towards the kitchen. You want to slap him and kiss him at the same time.

Your washing veggies in the sink when you turn around catch sight of his back as he stood at the kitchen island, sorting the rest of the ingredients. You get the same overwhelming feeling in your chest again, assuming you’re deluding yourself into thinking this is what life could be like with him. In less than 3 seconds, you’ve conjured a timeline of domestic routines, to wind down with him like this every evening.

You’re still lost in thought, still incessantly staring when he turns around and catches you in the act. He does the rude thing and snaps his fingers in front of your face to pull you out of your thoughts, “You okay?”

“Yeah” You say trying to gloss it over while busying yourself trying to find your cutting board.

“Are you sure? Do you wanna sit down at the island and watch me instead. You don’t have to help -”

“Pick a knife, and shut up dingus, it’s fine”

Once your both done eating and cleaning up, Mingyu hugs you goodbye, not before asking if you’d be free for lunch next week before he got busy the following month. You quickly agree, setting a date and time, bidding your (reluctant) farewells.

***

Once back in your apartment you realize how you can’t clean up to distract yourself because Mingyu took it upon himself to clear the space with you before he left. You sigh loudly and retire into your bedroom where you don’t have to think about how empty your living room is.

Changing into your pajamas and putting a headband on, you don’t even feel like turning your music on to do your night routine. You double cleanse, tone, serum, acid and moisturise your face with added purposefulness, taking note of the crevices of your nose and the neglected bottom of your chin. Taking extra time to make sure all of the foam is out of your skin before drying your face with a tissue.

You look at your fed skin in the mirror, and feel a weird surge of tears well in your eyes. Before they can fall you slam your bathroom cabinet to busy yourself to find your melatonin gummies, shoving them in your mouth before switching off the bathroom light and retiring to your bedroom.

Slipping the headband off and sliding into bed, you’re still chewing your gummies to a paste in your mouth. Trying not to notice how heavy you’re breathing you try to find your white noise machine, the one you found advertised for infants, and turn it on before grabbing your book to read for a few extra minutes.

Your staring at the pages like you found them to be blank. You’re phone dings next to you, signalling a notification.

Picking it up you find your mental health app sending you a daily reminder.

You’re allowed to feel your emotions.

***

Winter had run its course as you find yourself in April. You never really liked the cold, having been more sensitive to a gust of wind than the average joe, you were better suited to sitting with an aircon instead of being unable to move in the middle of Korea’s January cold rush. But alas, the cherries are blossoming and your fingers have defrosted.

That isn’t what’s on your mind right now though, as you’re standing in a Sephora, arms crossed and shoulders tense. You loved shopping for makeup, but you mostly chose to do it online unless you really had to otherwise. Parking yourself in the perfume section with the scents mixing together a cocktail of nosehair doom, you really wish you’d worn a face mask. Not to mention the migraine inducing coloured lights and mainstream pop playing in the background (you swear they’ve been playing Side to Side by Ariana Grande on loop since you got here).

These were all, however, peripheral observations for you, as you stare in absolute pneumonic shock at the number written on the price tag of the perfume you’re looking at.

Now, Mingyu is a man of class, high maintenance if you will. You’re well aware he likes to spoil himself, because he has a bank account to back it up.

Your bank account is definitely full and secure, but not enough for you to justify dropping what seems like half of its contents to something only one of the five senses can experience.

Mingyu mentioned in passing how he wanted this perfume a while ago, and knowing that he hadn’t ordered it for himself just yet, you decide to be the amazing friend that you are and surprise him for his birthday.

You may be regretting that right now, but you tentatively pick up the blue, crystalline bottle and spritz a bit on a paper strip before taking a whiff. It smelled good, that’s for sure, and it suited him too. So when the saleslady came to offer assistance, after you excused the last three, you decide you’re going to do this for him.

“Yes, could I have this in the box please?”

Walking back to your car you feel a bount of jitter run through you,

Oh, he’s gonna freak out when he sees this.

He did, in fact, freak when he saw it, and his reaction made you want to give him all of the good things in the world if you could see him like this all the time.

He’s smiling ear to ear and speaking in that high pitched voice that he gets when he’s excited. He’s thanking you over and over again, smoothing the box over in his hands repeatedly, looking at the ‘from: y/n :p’ with hearts in his eyes.

“I’m gonna save this for the rest of my life” he says, with determination and a goofy grin.

You snort at the declaration, “Sure, bud”

“I’m serious. What, you wanna bet?” he replies, taking a sip of his, latte, which you proudly credit yourself for swerving him over from Americano’s.

He insisted on going out to eat at this fancy French place a day before his actual birthday as he’d be busy on the day of, but it was risky for him to be seen eating out alone with a young woman at such a fancy place. You settled for a nicer traditional Korean restaurant, that allowed you to book a room away from possible prying eyes and one that you were both comfortable with. You decided to wait till you were back in the car with your post dinner coffee’s to give him his present.

“I’m giving you 3 months before that bottle’s dry to the dregs” You affirmed, “You smell like you empty half a bottle of something off your dresser everyday anyways”

You said it as an insult, but jokes on you because you loved the way he smelled.

“Fine, I’m gonna use this so carefully I’m not replacing it for at least a year”

“A year? What happened to the rest of your life?” you refute.

“I have you for that, don’t I”

What the fuckity fuck.

He’d turned to you, leaning on the headrest, that signature cheesy look; like he was in love or something. Voice dropping a couple octaves as he said it, laced with something defined and strong - enough for it to feel like the weight of an elephant had dropped on your chest.

You gather yourself after looking at him for a couple seconds, jaw unhinged and forgotten on the floor of his car. You chose to grab your cardigan that was neatly folded on the dash, and astral project it to his face across the seat. He’s laughing so hard there’s tears glistening in the corner of his eyes. He falls forward and you see strands of his hair fall to his face, he’d been growing them out.

“Shut up” you grumble in your seat, annoyed at how easy it was for him to send your heart through and beyond your chest.

He’s still giggling like a school girl, and you cave and give him a hint of a smile.

“There it iiiis” He announces, grabbing your face and smushing your cheeks together.

For a moment, he stops to look at you like this, like he’s contemplating. For one, brain rattling, organ exploding, microsecond, you think he might even kiss you.

Instead, he headbutts you slightly rubbing his head swiftly before letting go.

“I might need to wash my hands, I think I got your makeup on me” He mumbles, looking at his hands like a child with mud soaked palms.

“Serves you right, you buffoon,” You remark as you pull out your trusty travel pack of makeup wipes.

Yanking one out of the tab, you pull his hand over and try to wipe the remnants of foundation off, starting from the heel up to each individual finger. It’s silent as you concentrate on getting it all off both hands, he was wearing black tonight and knowing him he’d rub his hand over his pants and get beige foundation all over. You knew because you’d seen him do it one too many times.

“All done” you quip, looking up and catching his stare. He’s smooth to slowly look away and retract his open hands from your lap about 5 seconds after it became noticeable.

You busy yourself by attempting to stash away the wipes to throw out later, closing the pack of wipes and shoving them back into your bag.

He’s watching you do all of this, his stare is burning holes into the side of your head. He’s desperate to say something, but you’re not sure if you want to hear.

“Let’s go back to my place. We’ll stick a candle into a sheet brownie and call it your birthday cake. Oh, we can pick up ice cream too!”, You say, costuming your voice to sound unaffected by his vibe.

And so you did stick a candle in the fresh batch of brownies you both made at 11PM, two hours before his actual birthday. Sitting across from each other on the counter, Mingyu has his eyes closed shut, hands clasped, wearing a ridiculously coloured ‘BIRTHDAY BOY’ headband you found somewhere deep in your drawers.

“You’re gonna get wax on the brownies and they're gonna be inedible, hurry up” You groan, after everytime it seems like he’s done, he clenches his eyes shut again as he remembers another thing he has to wish for.

You’re not actually annoyed, he looks the cutest he’s ever looked, but you would appreciate non waxed brownies.

When he’s finally done, he blows out the singular candle and you clap lightly, “yay!”

You’re pulling out the candle and grabbing forks, dumping a couple scoops of ice cream on before you two start eating straight out of the pan.

Its a collection of groans as you both collapse on your couch, regretting eating all that so soon after dinner. He changed out of his dinner outfit to a T-shirt and pajama pants, he’d started keeping a set of clothes in his car when it started to become routine for him to spend regular  evenings after work at your place.

You’re in your own unicorn pajama’s, slumped over on the arm rest slightly. You feel Mingyu scooch over to put his head in your lap, claiming he was “closing his eyes for a minute”.

You knew how lightning fast he passes out, so not even 5 minutes later you start to hear his light snores. As much as you want to wake him up to move him to the bed, you know he can’t stay the night. His birthday meant he had to be with the boys, and needing to head out early tomorrow.

So you give him 10 more minutes, fingers tracing the shape of his features, in his soft hair massaging his head with your nails slightly. He had a little pout on his face as he slept. Things had been hectic for him lately, having a comeback later in the month and the plethora of music and variety shows to follow.

Mingyu had been writing lyrics on the kitchen island one day, sputtering random words as you quipped in rhymes of your own without context, stirring the pot of soup on the hob at the same time.  

One particular rhyme you spew out catches him off guard and he barks out a laugh at the ridiculous combination.

“I should put you on song credits for this”

“What do you think my producer name could be?”

He thinks for a second, “Banana bread sounds stupid, um, how’s brownie?”

“Cute, and serious enough” you agree, “I’ll be expecting to see my name on that album, sir”

Snapping out of your thoughts, you turn your attention back to the sleeping man curled up in your lap. You wonder if you could fall asleep on the couch too, keep him here with you for the night. Be a little selfish. It’d be nice, making waffles for breakfast when morning comes. But he needed to be at the dorm in the morning, the boys knew where he was but managers that’d come pouring in at 7 AM sharp, did not. And it was best kept that way. The last thing Mingyu wanted, you knew, was people getting the wrong idea. The thought stung a little bit, but you knew not to mix your hopes with what reality was giving you.

So you gather the courage to slowly reign him back from dreamland.

***

Your sitting with Mingyu and Seungkwan on the couches outside the dressing rooms, a little bit before they have to go to perform. You were done with your agenda and was waiting for them to start filing out before beginning to pack up.

“No, because why does he get to eat all the good stuff right out the oven and we don’t, that’s not fair” Seungkwan complained loudy to you, a mildly offended look on his face.

“Stop being such a complain bot, you’re never happy if I have nice things” Mingyu retorts, increasingly nasty looks being exchanged for an argument about freshly baked goods.

“Oh, I’m the hater?! Let me jog your memory, who was the one sulking and shoving me around when Y/n wouldn’t let you-”

Mingyu had jumped up and pulled Seungkwan into a headlock, his poor Americano half flying across the hall as he yells out in disarray.

“YAH!” cued with more noises of struggle and muffled threats.

You chose to embrace the violence by sitting in your seat and laughing as Vernon recorded their antics from the doorway inside eventually circing them for his supposed cinematic effect, catered for the inevitable weverse post that was to come.

Cut to them apologizing and cleaning up the mess of coffee and disregard.

You decide to be nice and attempt to make peace by reassuring Seungkwan, “Come over after you’re done promoting this week, I’ll make up for all the bread and cookies you missed out on”

“If you've finished with your escort duties Y/n, could you please come in and do your day job?”

The voice came from the doorway of the dressing room, your senior makeup artist standing there with her usual mildly inconvenienced expression. It took you a minute to fully understand what she meant by that sentence, your body completely still.

“Offended? What, like I’m wrong?”

You were no stranger to insulting behaviour in work places, but they’d always been revolving around your actual job description. People who didn’t like you knew they had to be smart on how they treated you regardles.

This was different. This felt like you were projected back in time to your solemn middle school days to mean girls taunting you about your spongebob socks, except multiply that by about a thousand.

You feel your stomach begin to churn as that nauseous feeling of shame began to settle itself into your veins.

You’re not sure how long you’ve been sitting there but when she slightly raises her voice; “Are you getting up or not?” your hands actively begin to tremble the slightest amount.

You’re making moves to get up by puting your coffee cup down, not knowing what to do except follow commands.

Your interrupted by a voice from behind; “She’s coming in, give us a minute”

Mingyu’s standing there, his expression stoic as Seungkwan and Vernon looked as stunned as you felt. You don’t register it in the moment, but the people in the hall, venue staff and those for other artists have also silenced, watching the scene unfold.

Her lips are in a tight line, her expression remaining irritated as she steps back inside the room.

You realise you need to do something to diffuse the escalated situation. Letting out a breathy laugh, you get up and tell them that you’ll be going inside, trying to keep your expression pleasant and unaffected, not waiting before turning around to spare them the burden of a response. People get yelled at everyday, and this is no different. You aren’t gonna be the one to make a scene out of a regular occurrence.

You know what's coming when you get inside, she’s waiting as she pulls you aside.

“Your behavior has been quite concerning recently, let me remind you of your place here and what you were hired to do. You've been dilly dallying with people who aren't even your friends, and its quite funny that you’d think they are. It's time to wake up from wasting your time making heart eyes at men who are way out of your league. I won't tolerate any more nonsense from you, and trust I won’t be this nice or forgiving the next time this happens”

You choose to nod your head.

“That’s another thing, use your own words. Don’t think other people are gonna be there all the time to speak for you” She spits out, her professional front slowly eroding the more she spoke.

“Yes, ma’am” You say, hoarse voice.

“Louder, next time”, she stalks out as majority of the people in the room also begin to leave for the filming downstairs.

You’re left standing awkwardly in front of the racks of clothes, trying to digest what just happened to you. Looking around the room, you try to figure out what your supposed to do.

Clothes on the couches, eyeshadow brushes on the floor. There’s a torn sponge resting underneath one of the chairs, a couple styrofoam boxes left on the tables from lunch.

There’s so much for you to do, you arent sure how you thought you had time to sit down and chat. But you’re not sure where to begin either. The room is a mess of smells and colours even without the buzzing noise of people getting ready. Tears begin to form as you try to navigate what you’re supposed to do, realising you can’t possibly find a starting point for any of this mess. Before you have time to think of anything else, a hand is holding onto your wrist, small and soft.

It’s Yoona, another one of the makeup artists.

“Y/n, I think it’s best if you go home, it’s been tiring.”

“But-”

“Don’t worry, I’ll handle her. Just trust me. Go home you’ll feel alot better”

She notices you hesitate for a second, and goes in to give you a hug.

It felt nice, to be hugged by a friend. For some reason, it didn’t feel like she was pitying you, her expression and aura reassuring you that you didn’t have to stand here alone.

“Whatever happened today shouldn't have happened, but you don’t need to think about that right now. Go home and do nice things for yourself, we’ll figure it out later. You have my number, give me a text once you get home. We can go out later if you want, when I get off work, to get your mind off things”

You’re not sure how you’re holding back the waterpark that has become of your tearducts as you hear those words from an unsuspecting friend, you nod with a smile. You feel a little more calm.

You can’t tell if you care enough to consider the consequences of your senior finding out how you’re doubling or nothing on your already posed humiliation. But the only thing you can think of right now is your bed and the ceiling you’d stare burn holes into.

So you, for the first time in a while, chose to choose yourself by picking up your satchel and leaving the chaos behind you as you walk to your car.

***

Just because you were brave where it mattered most doesn’t mean you weren’t allowed to cry.

You had come home, shot Yoona a brief text, and promptly began to sob the absolute Nile into your sheets.

You had never cried like this before, loud wracked sobs coming from a place in your chest you had locked away during a time you couldn’t even remember. You’re breathing after every choked cry is a sputtered intake of life, only to spit it back out as you let out another sob of what sounds like agony. There’s nothing in your head, nothing but the words that were spoken to you as echoes of your own mind. Hypocritical of you to hate them when the same words circled in your head like a mantra every cursed, unfortunate day. She had done you a favour, by spitting out the truth you’d stewed, chewed and kept in your mouth ever since you got here. This was a you problem, to believe that you were capable of things beyond your bracket. You were told by the universe, screamed at by the world, that this was never meant for you, and you chose to ignore it. You chose to be stubborn. You brought this misery upon yourself.

Once you’ve disposed your body weight of tears and snot and burden, you’re left to stare at your innocent sheets now stained with mascara and your sorrows. You crawl into your covers and rest your muscles for a few seconds, head empty. You aren’t sure when you drift off, but you're glad that you do.

You don’t dream for once.

***

You wake up feeling like you drank a gallon of water and went to sleep. Your eyes, nose and throat feel like they’ve been over watered yet dry at the same time. You don’t realise what’s really arising pangs of irritancy in your brain once you figure out the consistent sound is a door bell. You’re doorbell, of the house that you live in.

You’re slow to push yourself up, realising your slept in your day clothes. It’s dark out but you're not sure what time it is, and quite frankly, you can’t say you care enough to check. You need to silence your doorbell first, which can only be done by silencing whatever hell sent individual was playing drums on the button outside.

It’s a record screech in your brain as you peer through your peephole and realise who the aforementioned hell sent individual was.

Mingyu was outside your door.

You don’t realise you look like you crawled out of a sewer till it’s too late and you’ve already opened the door through muscle memory. Mingyu was always welcome in your space.

He was in casual clothes, his hair pushed back from the guessed hands that ran through it, but he was still in stage his stage makeup.  

“Oh, were you sleeping?” He asks, eyes a little wide, expression cautious.

“Yeah.”

“I’ll go then, you weren’t answering your phone for anyone and you told Yoona you were home but you weren’t opening the door, i was worried. Sorry I ringed it so much I probably should’ve assumed-”

He stops to look at you, and it’s like realizes something before he finally says; “Just wanted to make sure you were okay, I’ll see you around. I’ll leave you alone”

“Wait,” you croak out, licking your lips, conscious of your morning voice, “Can you stay? Please? If you can.”

He stops to look at you, expression changing from sheepish to defensive.

“No! I mean, yes. Yes. I’ll stay. I’ll stay for as long as you want”

You let him in as he slips off his shoes and you lead him to the living room. His presence in the familiar place seems like it last happened eras ago, when he was only here maybe a week prior.  

“You know where everything is, I’ll be back gimme like 5 minutes”

You’re scared to look at yourself in your bathroom mirror, so you don’t, and choose to scrub your face looking down at your sink. You change into a sweatshirt and trouser loungewear set, deciding to save your dignity a little bit further as you brush your hair and clip it back with a claw clip.

You take a breath before entering the living room again.

He’s sitting on the floor in your usual place, two steaming mugs on the coffee table, the tabs hanging out of the cup. He made you tea.

You sit down next to him, not really prepared for what you should be saying.

“How long has she been speaking to you like that?” He asks you quietly.

���She was always kinda itchy and uptight and stuff but, it was never like this” You say.

“Regardless, whatever that was, it was, wrong, uncalled for, all of those things” He says, sputtering a little bit.

He stops and sighs. It’s silect for a minute before he turns in his seat to face you, grabbing your folded legs and pulling you to face him too.

“Yoona heard everything she said to you after you went in, she heard it all. And she knows about some other stuff too. If you think, even for a second, that I’m not your friend, I might actually think there’s something wrong with you.

“If everything we’ve been through this past, almost a year, doesn’t amount to us at least being friends then I don’t know what it means to have one at all. You’re the first person in a while I’ve been able to be this open with. You know me better than most people, you’ve seen me at my worst and at my best. I’ve let you read me all you want, because I know I can be an open book if it’s you. I trust you more than I can trust myself sometimes, and I really wish you would trust me too.”

You’re watching him as he says all of this, you look up to make eye contact a couple times, and he’s looking at you everytime you lift your head.

“I do trust you. Probably more than anyone else. It’s myself I don’t trust. It’s hard for me to open up, I’m scared I’m gonna say something that’ll scare you away. And, I just thought maybe she was right today, that I need to realise that it can’t be that way between us, I have a job to do”

“What can’t be between us?”

“I like you, Mingyu. Like, I’m basically in love with you and have been since I fucking met you. I couldn’t believe that you could possibly be friends with someone like me, a confused, all over the place airhead who can’t tell right from left sometimes, forget you ever liking me. All that happened is that we became friends and I thought that this was as far as fate was gonna push us. All today told me was that … that was an overextension too. It was a wake up call that I can’t have everything in life. Things were going too well for us and I was letting myself think it could stay that way forever. I’m sorry for being this way, I’m sorry for making you feel uncomfortable and out of place. This is the last thing you’d want to hear from a friend and I’m sorry I’m putting you in this situation right now and that you had to go through that today-”

You don’t finish what your saying because you're interrupted. Interrupted by arms pulling you forward and into Mingyu in front of you.

Your both sitting in your living room at 3 AM, on the floor in front of your sofa like you both have so many times. Except now, Mingyu is holding you in his arms, and kissing you so delicately it hurts.

It’s warm, like getting into bed after a long day, the scent of home and security engulfing you as you begin to forget about the qualms of life.

He’s moving his lips slowly, with care and a feeling so overflowing you can’t describe.

He lets go slowly and rests his forehead against yours, his arms are around you tight, legs wrapped around your entire body so you can't escape - physically or mentally.

“You dumbass” You hear him say.

“I love you,Y/n. More than anything. And I need you to know that you don’t have to hide. If you think your thoughts are a burden then I want to carry it for you. I want you to realise you’re not alone. I want you to stop pushing me away. Everytime I want to do something nice for you, you try to push the effort to something else, everytime I try to take care of you, you have this look that makes me think you feel guilty for taking up my time or something. Everytime I think you’re about to ask me to stay the night, you remind me I have priorities and I should go, even though I know you want me to stay with you. I want you to stop caring so much for how other people feel and realise you can demand the same from the universe too. You deserve love and to be treated with care. You need to let people do that for you, love.”

Your looking at him now, your turn to have stars in your eyes.

He loves you.

And you feel it. You feel it in his words, in his eyes, in the kisses he’s leaving on your face, in his arms that are wrapped around you, ready to shield you from the world.

You don’t say anything as you fall into his chest, head on shoulder, relaxed body in the cage he’s made for you. You close your eyes as the tears are burning down your face. Except, this time they’re because your relieved.

You both got up from the uncomfortable floor and moved to your bed, still tangled within each other as you clarified everything else.

You found out that majority of the people who heard it were very upset at the situation, but didn’t know how to approach or confront her.

Seungkwan almost bust a blood vessel after he had digested what had happened, disbelief and threats on his tongue as he refused to get touched up by her during filming, apparently making a point to walk to somebody else. Seungcheol was thinking of trying to bring up the problem to management, considering how Mingyu too was distracted all the way home.

“The rest of them have gotten quite protective of you too, I think. It’s not like I shut up about you”

Apparently the only reason you were asked to start taking charge on makeup was because some of the other senior artists pressured your mentor to stop restricting you. It made you feel a little more secure that it wasn’t just you that felt pushed down.

She didn’t like that you were doing so well, considering it meant she was wrong about you and your abilities. It hurt her ego a little bit that people stopped preferring her to do their makeup or their touchups, how they wouldn’t interact with her the same way.

“Alot coming from a middle aged, married woman, attention seeking like a child” Mingyu added, scoffing with a sour face as he nuzzled into the crown of your head.

“The boys really like you by the way, they’ve been rooting for us since forever” He says, and your heart swells unimaginably so; you felt loved, so so loved.

You scooch up to plant a kiss on the underside of his chin and then one on his lips.

“That makes me happy”

“I’m happy that you’re happy. You deserve to be happy, everyday” He smooches you on the face again. “Oh, and don’t worry about that stinky face I’ll take care of her”

You laugh at the determination in his voice, but you wanted to clarify something.

“Please, let me handle her myself. I’ll ask for help if she’s stubborn but I wanna try by myself first”

“That was hot”

You push his chest away as you bark out a laugh at the random comment, hiding you face, by turning the other way.

He battles that by pull you back into his chest and continuing his atics

“What I can’t call my girlfriend hot. You’re hot. Your the sexiest motherfucker I’ve ever seen” smooch “You’re beautiful” and again  “amazing” and again “gorgeous spectacular-”

You don’t fall asleep until the sun has well made its way up the sky, taking the executive decision to sleep in till way past lunch and maybe even take a nap afterwards.

You don’t care how it goes, because your happy just being with him.

***

You met with Yoona a couple days later at a cafe.

“Seungcheol asked us if we were facing the same kind of behaviour from her too. And everyone told him she was stuck up and rude and stuff. He said he wanted to bring it up to management but it didn’t really concern him directly so they wouldn’t listen. He told us to do so ourselves and we thought about it, but we’re gonna need to tell them about that too”

You nod your head as you listen to her speak, it was making sense.

“I dont mind going up to management at all and talking about it. I get that the rest of the stuff is a little too tame to be considered, which sucks because she shouldn’t be talking to us like that at all”

“Mhm, and I was thinking we could vouch for you on how she was restraining you for almost a year. Basically not letting you do your job. That’d be a another thing for them to think about”

“Yeah. Let’s do it asap, how’s this Monday?”

“Perfect, I’ll add everyone to a group chat and let them know”

And go up to management you did, who were surprisingly understanding. Apparently having received multiple reports and even videos of the most recent incident to act as proof. It was working out for all of you, and it proved to stay that way as they responded with a promise to shift her to a different department.

You had gone home that day feeling fulfilled and relieved. Mingyu, a man with spectacular timing had also proceeded to send you a text as a distraction,

[Mingyu]: Kwan wants to come over

[Mingyu]: something about croissants

[Mingyu]: Should he text you ab it?

[You]: yeah ofc

[You]: I’ll order the butter

[You]: you tell him to text me lol

Two nights ago felt like it happened last year with all the unimaginable advances deciding to happen within the past 48 hours. Right now you were more excited for the company you were about to recieve, more concerned with making sure you made the best batch of croissants Seungkwan ever did see.

***

You were in the car with Mingyu outside the company building, waiting until the clock struck 9 to go inside.

Today was the last day you’d think about this, being called up for a face to face meeting with the staff member, so she could formally apologise. The team had planned a dinner tonight, to celebrate the end of her ‘wicked reign’ as Yoona described it.

You were finding friends everywhere, ones that were always there, pulling through for each other as you yourself navigated a new direction of thinking for yourself. You were learning to walk past your anxiety ridden desire to draw lines with everyone, as you took the first step with the dinner tonight. It would be fun for you, and a bond you’d begin to build.

You learned that you weren’t delusional anymore, and that Mingyu did love you the same. It had only been a week or so, but one of the happiest weeks of your life, despite everything. He was teaching you more lessons than he thought he was.

Mingyu squeezes your hand from the driver’s side as it was past 9, “Let’s go?”

“Lets go”

***

Mingyu’s way too enthusiastic as soon as he wakes up, indulging you in a morning (afternoon) makeout session, claiming he doesn’t care for you morning breath.

“Well I do!” you exclaim, pushing him off with a giggle “About your morning breath, stinky”

He clutches his chest in dramatic offense, “How could you? I thought you loved me”

You respond my projecting a cushion to his face.

“Do you want pancakes or eggs for breakfast?” You ask, legs hanging over the bed.

Mingyu looks up, a wicked glint in his eye, and you immediately know he’s going to say something of no help.

“I want you for breakfast” He says, grabbing you by the waist and pulling you back in bed.

“MINGYU!”

Needless to say, all was well.

[watchmegetobsessed]

DECODE

A/N: okay wow, it's actually here, but let me say a ew things first: i am no it proessional so there are some made up stuff so don't come after me if there are untrue things in the story lmao. also, the ending... im not entirely in peace with it, but i've been sitting on this story for way too long so i just bit my tongue and finised it. don't come after me if you don't like it... but anyway! hope it didn't turn out as bad and you'll enjoy the story!

WORD COUNT: 13.7k

SUMMARY: You're up for the promotion you've always dreamt about, but right when you need to prove everything goes downhill. Lucky for you the cute, quiet IT guy, Harry, is there to help you out.

MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

There’s that feeling when you wake all by yourself, a moment of peace takes over you for not starting the day off with your one true enemy, the alarm, but then panic instantly stabs you in the chest when you realize it’s a weekday and there’s absolutely no way you just woke up before your alarm, feeling this rested. 

Your eyes pop open and you sit up in a frenzy looking around in the room, figuring out what happened and what should be done now. First you check the time on your phone and when you see that it reads 8:32 you almost start crying, but there’s no time for that, so you jump out of bed and sprint into the bathroom, stopping on the way when you spot Eric in the hallway, fully dressed, ready to leave.

“Eric?! Why didn’t you wake me up?!” you snap at him. He turns to you with innocence all over his face.

“I thought you were off today,” he simply says.

“Off?! We have the board meeting today, how could I be off!” you practically scream as you rush into the bathroom to get ready in less than two minutes hopefully.

“I’m sorry!” he calls out from outside. “I’ll see you in the office!”

And the next thing you hear is the front door opening and closing.

“Motherfu…” you mumble as you start washing your face like a crazy woman.

You leave in ten minutes, but you’re fifteen minutes late already, no matter how magically fast you got ready. You don’t have time to get a bagel for breakfast and you’re already halfway into the office when you realize you left your lunch at home too. You somehow shorten the route and win a few minutes on your way in, but you still arrive ten minutes late, looking like a hot mess, completely out of control as you make your way to the twentieth floor to your desk, pretending you haven’t just had the absolute worst morning of your life. 

The elevator almost closes right in front of you, but before you could smash against the sliding doors a hand sticks out and stops it, letting you slip in last minute.

“Ah, thank you,” you breathe out, your purse sliding off your shoulder and your folder almost falls from your hands.

“N-No problem,” a sweet and smooth voice answers, but your hair is such a mess, it covers your vision and you don’t see the kind man that saved you a few minutes with his move. The moment the elevator arrives to your floor you jump out and rush towards your desk.

“You alright, boss?” Zaya, your intern asks, who is more like a personal assistant at this point. She eyes you curiously from her desk as you gasp for air and try to soothe out the wrinkles on your blouse, though there’s absolutely no use in it. 

“Everything is perfectly fine,” you force a smile on your face as you start your computer, emails flowing in like crazy the moment you open your inbox. “Just had a rough morning.”

With Zaya’s help you go through everything at light speed, it’s one of your biggest strengths, being fast and productive, so in just about twenty minutes you reduce the thirty-seven unread emails to just two. 

You’ve cleared your schedule beforehand so you can have a practice run for your big presentation. Today’s board meeting is gonna be an important one. There’s a promotion at risk, one you’ve been working your ass off to get and now it’s so close, you can almost feel it between your fingertips. This presentation and what stands behind it all is what you’ve worked for night and day for the past month and you have never been more confident in yourself, though you can’t shake the general nervousness off.

You make your test run to Zaya who says her mind is blown and there’s no chance you won’t get the promotion. 

“You got it, boss,” she fist bumps you, something you’ve grown to like, it’s her form of appreciation. 

“I hope so,” you sigh. “Alright, I’ll grab a coffee quickly before the meeting.”

You head a few levels down to the main kitchen area that has the best coffee machine in the building. It’s already past the morning rush, so you’re delighted to see that there are just a few people lingering around. Including Eric.

“Hey!” you huff out a smile as you stand next to him at the coffee machine. He peeks at you, just a tiny smile on his lips, but it doesn’t reach his eyes like usual.

“Hey.”

“If you’re curious, I was only just a bit late this morning,” you chuckle to yourself, grabbing a cup while Eric waits for his own coffee to get ready. 

“Mm, great. Sorry about… the morning.”

“It’s okay, are you nervous? About the presentation?”

Funny enough you’re running for the promotion against Eric, the guy you’ve been hooking up for the past few months. It’s nothing serious, no strings attached, mostly just sex, though you believe that if you spend at least three nights together every week and spend time outside of bed as well, that has to mean more than just a regular hook up.

Right?

“Not really,” he shrugs, but it doesn’t sound genuine.

“It’s okay, you’ll do good,” you smile at him warmly as you place your hand on his arm and give it a squeeze, but you’re surprised when he moves out of your touch, shooting you a look.

“Not… in the office, Y/N,” he grits through his teeth, looking around to check if anyone saw the tiny gesture while you’re just blinking at him dumbly.

Yes, you usually keep your… whatever it is out of the office, but he hasn’t been this distant to you before. Before you could ask his phone starts ringing and he mumbles an apology before running off.

You write it off as nerves, you know Eric to be highly competitive, it must be a new field for him as well, running against someone he is involved with. 

Your heart is racing when you enter the boardroom, welcoming the people that will decide your future at the company, the CEO, the CFO, the head of marketing and a few others you’re not that familiar with, but you know they have power.

For the promotion you had to come up with a plan to boost the numbers on the website that hasn’t been doing much lately. You worked up a plan for a marketing strategy that would reach the target audience in a better way, it’s pretty awesome, you’re quite proud of it and you’re convinced you’ll kick ass with your presentation.

There are a few more minutes left until the meeting, you pour yourself some water and go ahead to open your slides on your computer so you have it all ready when it’s your turn.

“What… Oh no,” you whisper, when your computer starts lagging and the cursor freezes. “No, no, no!”

“Everything alright, Miss?” the CFO notices your panic.

“Yes!” you force a smile on your face. “Everything is… perfect.”

He nods and turns back to his previous conversation while your panic intensifies. You keep pushing buttons and trying to move the cursor, but it looks pretty dead, so you decide to shut it down and try to restart it, hopefully it will come back from the dead. 

Eric strides into the room, but as he takes his seat he doesn’t even look at you, just sets out his own laptop and paper notes and stares ahead of him. No matter how you try to catch his attention, he ignores you fully and it’s just another punch in your stomach.

What the hell is happening?

“Alright, everyone ready?” Daniel, the CEO claps his hands together. “Eric, you’re up first,” he gestures at him and while you’re still desperately trying to revive your computer. 

Eric sets up and when his presentation appears behind him your stomach drops instantly. 

The title, the topic, the colors… everything. You know all of it, because… because you made it. It’s yours.

You forget about your computer as Eric starts talking and he presents your idea, everything you came up with and worked hard on, he hasn’t changed a bit about it and now he is making it look like it’s his own. If you were panicking before now you’re about to set on fire.

That would be probably nice, because you wouldn’t have to go up there and most likely embarrass yourself. 

How did he get your presentation? Why did he steal it? You can’t blame him just out of the blue, you need proof and right now the only device that could have it is dead in front of you. 

You are so screwed. 

“ Holy fucking shit, oh my God!” you keep mumbling under your breath as you approach your desk, holding your dead computer to your chest, eyes wide from what you just went through.

“Boss? You alright?” Zaya’s eyes widen when she sees you all shocked and traumatized.

“No! I’m anything but alright!”

Luckily, the small meeting room near your desk is vacant so you’re quick to take it, Zaya following you right after, shutting the door closed so you can unleash fully.

“Oh my God I can’t fucking believe him! The asshole! How did he fucking do it?!” you snap, throwing everything to the table so you can anxiously start pacing the floor with your hands on your hips. “I cannot believe this, what the hell!”

“Y/N, what happened? You’re starting to scare me,” Zaya eyes you and she actually looks scared which is a new thing, the girl is fearless.

“Eric! He stole my… my whole fucking presentation!” you whisper-yell, throwing your hands up into the air. “Every slide! Every detail! It was all mine! And he sold it as his own!”

“W-what? But… how? And what did you present then?”

“I have no idea! He was up first, as we all knew ahead of time, he went up there, opened his presentation and it was mine! I thought I was about to fall off my seat, fucking hell,” you groan, rubbing your face with your hands. Thanks to your rushed morning you’re not wearing any makeup today so at least you can’t turn yourself into a panda bear. “My laptop died right before the meeting started so I could use it as an excuse and… fuck, I made up a whole other plan on the spot!” You’re about to start hyperventilating, maybe even crying which you’ve never ever done at work before.

“But… that’s good, right? That you came up with something new?” Zaya tries to see the bright side of it, but you shake your head violently.

“You know what I came up with? I said I’m planning to rebuild the whole fucking website! All of it!”

“Oh no.”

“Oh yes! I basically set myself up for failure!”

Everyone knows a full makeover could easily be a death sentence, especially with such a short notice. You have no structure to it, no plan and most importantly no IT support to do the actual work. Because you can dream up any idea, but you cannot actually write the code for it. 

Zaya tries to cheer you up but you both know you’re not only knee high, but probably neck high in deep shit. She promises to take up extra hours to help you figure out what to do and though it’s nice, the situation still feels pretty much lost.

You’re on the verge of tears when you make your way to the IT department to have your computer checked out, which is still pretty much dead. You’re already dreading the interaction, Steven, the head of the IT department is a real pain in the ass, he never wants to actually help with anything so it’s always a fight to get things done with him. 

When you walk into their office he is the first one you see and you almost groan out loud, but manage to keep quiet as you approach him.

“Hi Steven, do you happen to have a moment?” you ask, as politely and nicely as you can in the light of what just happened, but apparently it’s not enough for him, because the look he gives you makes you want to turn around and run away.

“What’s the matter?” he grimaces, fixing his glasses as he leans back in his seat.

“My laptop just died,” you hold up the device. 

He stares at you, then at your laptop and then his eyes flicker back to you and he stays silent for what feels like forever before he speaks up.

“I have no time for this now,” he says, returning to his own computer and your shoulders fall forward in defeat, but then he speaks up again. “Go to the back and ask for Styles.”

“Thank you,” you breathe out and are already on your way away from his desk.

Maneuvering between the desks you’re trying to find out who’s Styles or who to even ask to tell you where to find him and you’re just about to stop at one of the desks when you see a big screen, a sticker on the back of it that says H. Styles, so you make your way over there.

As you’re approaching the desk a head full of chocolate curls appear and soon you spot the guy sitting behind the screen, peering up at you with curious, green eyes from behind his glasses.

“Are you… Styles?” you ask, feeling weird that you only know his family name. He stares at you for a second with wide eyes and you start to think you’ve got the wrong guy, but then he nods, the curls bouncing along with the movement.

“Y-yeah. I’m Harry Styles.”

“Great! Steven said you might be able to have a look at my computer, it’s completely dead.”

“Sure,” he clears his throat as he pushes back from the desk while you round it to give the laptop to him. “W-what happened?” he asks as he opens it up and tries to turn it on, but the screen remains black.

“Um, basically it froze right before the most important presentation of my life and then it died and hasn't turned on since then,” you summarize with a sad smile as you watch him grab some kind of cable to connect your laptop with his computer.

Harry hums as he opens some kind of program that has a long, complicated looking code running in front of him and he clicks and searches in it so easily as if he was reading a children’s book. 

“Is it fully dead?” you ask after a couple of minutes. 

“No, but you got a virus, it might take some time to restore everything and some files might not make it, I’m sorry.”

You let out a shaky breath, feeling like crying again, but you manage to swallow them back as you lean against the edge of Harry’s desk. He looks up at you like a frightened kid.

“I-I can try to get everything back, I promise, it’s just that–”

“No, I know it’s not up to you. Thank you though. I’m just on the verge of… would it be weird if I started screaming right now?” you ask rhetorically as you pinch the bridge of your nose. 

“I can set up another one for you to use with all the access cloned from yours, but you won’t have the files in the meantime.”

“That would be wonderful, thank you.”

“Is there any file in particular you want me to try to recover?”

“There’s this folder that would be nice if I had it, here, this is the name,” you say as you grab a post-it and a pen and scribble the name down with all the files in it. 

“Okay, I will try to restore it. Give me a few minutes to set your replacement computer up.”

Nodding sadly you wait by Harry’s desk, watching him work on his computer like it’s an instrument and he is pretty much a professional. You know nothing about programming, but Harry seems like a wizard, you have no idea why Steven makes him deal with all the tiny things when he could pretty much redeem the world. 

“Here, this is the password, everything is set up,” he hands you the new computer.

“Thank you.”

“I’ll give you an email when I have something about your old one.”

“Okay, my address is–”

“I know, I just… I literally just logged you into your account,” he reminds me with a shy smile and you realize he’s right.

“Oh. I forgot. Well, thank you so much, Harry. And I’m sorry you have to deal with it now.”

“It’s fine, I’m the newest on the team, this is how it goes. Rookies get to deal with all the device issues,” he chuckles shortly.

You nod with a sympathetic smile and pay one last look to your savior. He looks young, around your age, but he’s sporting a slight stubble that adds some harshness to his otherwise boyish face. He’s got kind eyes behind his glasses, the prettiest pink lips you’ve ever seen on a man and his curls are screaming to be touched, though you’re not sure HR would take it well if you were just walking around the office, touching people’s hair. Oddly, it wouldn’t be the first time they would have to deal with a situation like this. Bobby DeMarco was a weird dude who worked in sales and he had an even weirder obsession with playing with women’s hair randomly. He didn’t last too long at the company, luckily.

When you return to your desk it takes everything in you to focus on working and A, not find Eric to claw his eyes out and B, not anxiously wait to hear anything from the board about today’s meeting. They are supposed to give feedback today and approve if you can continue working on your project and they can easily just kick you out of the whole thing as well. If that happened Eric would still have to prove himself to be a good fit for the role, but you’d have no chance to ever step up at the company.

You’re a mess, to say the least. You’re panicking over having to do a full website makeover in just a month, you have no idea where you stand with Eric and honestly, you’re torn between never wanting to talk to him and also screaming at him until your lungs give up.

God, your sister will be so mad, she was right! Jeanie warned you. She said it right at the beginning when you started hooking up with Eric that it’s not gonna end well, but you thought she was talking about being dumped eventually, not getting your promotion stolen from you!

When Zaya comes up to you with a question later in the day you’re still so shaken up you can barely make out an answer for her.

“I think you should report it,” she suggests, holding her notebook to her chest.

“And what do I have as proof? My computer is totally dead with all the evidence I made the presentation,” you groan, leaning back in your seat.

“Let’s hope the hot IT guy can restore everything.”

“Hot?” you chuckle. “How do you know he’s hot?”

“You said it’s Harry doing it, right? Curly hair, glasses?” You nod. “I know him, he is definitely hot,” she shrugs smirking, shifting her weight to one leg. “You know what would be nice? Hooking up with him to get revenge on Eric!”

“H-Hooking up? Why would Eric care about who I hook up with?” you clear your throat, pretending like you haven’t had a thing going on with Eric these past months. Zaya gives you a look that clearly says you shouldn’t think she’s stupid and blind.

“Please, Y/N.”

Sighing you roll your eyes as you give up the act.

“Judging from the betrayal Eric gives absolutely no shit about me.”

“Maybe, maybe not,” she shrugs just when your computer pings, signaling two new emails in your inbox.

One from the board and one from Harry.

“Oh shit,” you gasp as you lean forward so fast you almost fall off your seat and Zaya runs behind your desk to see what’s happening as you open the email from the board.

Your eyes skim over the lines several times before you finally process what was written in it.

They approved your plan. You’re still up for the promotion.

“Congrats! You made it!” Zaya cheers.

“Fuck,” you whisper under your breath.

“What’s wrong? I thought this was what you wanted.”

“The chance and the promotion? Yes. But now I have to do a full website makeover in a month which is practically impossible.”

You’re still moping and silently panicking when you’re approaching Harry’s desk for the second time today. When he sees you he jumps to his feet and you almost break a smile because he looks like a puppy for a second, but then you see that he has taken his sweatshirt off, wearing only a simple black t-shirt that puts his tattoo littered arms on display.

Fuck, Zaya was right. He really is kinda hot.

“Hey,” he waves at you when you finally reach his desk.

“Hi, how did it go?” you ask with a deep breath.

“Actually kinda good, I could save most of your stuff,” he says as he sits back and you walk behind his desk, seeing your laptop still wired to his computer. “I saved the files onto a harddrive, but I don’t recommend you to keep using the laptop, it’s… it’s pretty fried,” he chuckles, pushing the glasses further up on the bridge of his nose and for a moment you just stare at his side profile instead of focusing on what he’s showing you on his screen.

“Uh, that’s okay, I’ll be fine with the files,” you clear your throat.

“So um… I don’t know if it matters or not, but I-I thought you might want to know that you didn’t just get the virus because you clicked on something, it was… well, someone put it on your computer and it started attacking the firmware.”

You blink a few times as you process his words and then it all starts to make sense.

“What do you mean someone put it on my computer?”

“Well, there was a malware hidden on your computer that basically attacked the firmware which made it impossible for you to use the laptop and it also attacked the files saved, I found an implanted code that was giving access to–”

“Harry, I don’t really understand what you’re saying,” you remind him, his words sounding absolutely foreign to you.

“Sorry,” he breathes out with a nod. “So basically, the virus stopped your computer from working and it also gave access to a third party to reach your files.”

“So someone could use my files?”

“Yeah, exactly.”

You feel like fainting again, because now it all makes sense. And you’re starting to see red.

“Can you see what files they messed with?”

“Actually, I’m glad you asked,” he smiles proudly. “I was able to find everything they duplicated and there’s a folder they tried to get rid of, but I restored it.”

“Is it by any chance the folder I gave the name to you?”

“It is,” he nods, his fingers starting to type on his keyboard at lightspeed. “Here. See these lines?” he asks, pointing at a code you understand nothing of, but you nod. “It’s basically something they should have paid attention to if they wanted to leave no trace, but I found it so now we know what they were trying to put their hands on. I even have time stamps too. The virus was on your computer for a while and then it was activated to attack the firmware today.”

This is all like a movie, it feels like you’re in Mission Impossible or James Bond, except it’s not a great villain who is working against you but the guy you trusted to let into your bed. The guy you considered your friend and even something more than just that lately.

You made a mistake, you see it now and you want to dwell on it but you know you have no time for that, you have to keep moving forward.

“Do you know who did it?”

“Unfortunately, no. I could only get proof if I had access to the other person’s computer who was hacking yours. I’m sorry.”

Harry seems genuinely sad, as if he failed, but he did so much for you already.

“It’s okay. Thank you so much, can you… like, make a record of all these? So we have all this as proof at least.”

“Already done,” he nods. “Do you want me to file a report?”

“No. No need for that,” you shake your head. “But… I want to ask a favor from you. I know we barely know each other and you probably have a lot of work, so feel free to say no.”

“What is it?”

“Do you want to help me redesign our whole website?”

You’re anxiously chewing on your bottom lip as you wait for the Skype call to be answered, your sister’s name flashing on the screen until her pixelated face replaces it.

And she looks mad, just as you expected.

“Y/N, I told you so! I literally told you so!” she starts off, the voice cracks a bit as the call stabilizes.

“Can we skip the part where you tell me off like a child for hooking up with a coworker who ended up fucking me over?” you flash a smile, but she rolls her eyes at you, leaning back on her couch, her right side getting more illuminated by the lamp beside her couch. It’s past seven in the evening in Tokyo while it’s just six am for you. For the past six months this has been your usual, trying to call each other at a time that’s reasonable for the both of you with the insane thirteen hours of time difference. It’s definitely a hard task and sometimes you have to plan a call days, even weeks ahead.

“No, because I’m so mad!” she groans. “Mostly at the fucker, but you as well!”

“I really don’t need to hear how much I fucked up,” you mumble, looking down at your lap.

“Sorry,” she sighs, realizing she is making you feel even guiltier. “I’m just… you worked so hard for this and now he is ruining it.”

“I’m still up for the promotion,” you shrug.

“Yeah, but you said it’s almost impossible to do what you presented.”

“Well, things are looking a bit better now.”

She listens intently as you tell her about what Harry found on your computer and how you ended up asking him to help you out. You truly didn’t think he would say yes, but he didn’t even think about it before agreeing. So now you have the IT part covered by him, you just have to come up with all the rest.

“This Harry guy…” Sammy starts and you hold up your hand.

“Don’t give me the speech again, I learned my lesson.”

“No, actually I wanted to say that I like him.”

“For real?” you ask, raising your eyebrows. 

“I mean, he is willing to work an immense amount of extra time on your project and he basically has no benefit from it. I hope you do realize how big of a sacrifice he is making for your promotion.”

You knew how big of a deal it has been from Harry to help you out but now that Sammy said it out loud, realization hits. It’s not right he gets nothing out of it, so you note to yourself to go over it with him when you meet him in the morning for your first planning session.

“I’ll talk to him about it. Now let’s talk about something else.”

Harry was afraid he wouldn’t be able to wake up so early in the morning and make it into the office for the meeting with you, but it turns out his excitement to be working with you is kicking him out of bed even before his alarm goes off. 

He does his usual morning routine, shower, get dressed, breakfast and checking he has everything he needs in his backpack for the day and then he’s on his way. When he walks into the café that’s two blocks away from his apartment the bell gently chimes above his head, catching the attention of the owner, Frida. 

“Harry! You’re up early today!” she greets him with a beaming smile, her grey hair is in her signature low bun, her blue eyes twinkling at the sight of him.

“I have an early meeting,” he mumbles with a shy smile, the tip of his ears turning red and she doesn’t miss it, but she knows how closed off he is so she doesn’t even try to tease her about it. 

“The usual?”

“Um, yeah, but can you make it two?”

“Of course,” she nods with a knowing smile, her suspicion is getting proven that this early meeting is with someone special. 

The two chat lightly while Friday makes the coffees to go, handing the paper cups to Harry once they’re done.

“Have a lovely day, Harry,” she waves after him and he nods back, pushing the door open with his hips, a cup in each of his hands.

He can’t deny there’s a pep in his step as he enters the building that’s eerily empty so early in the morning. He did not expect his day to take such an unexpected turn yesterday. He’s seen you around the office a few times before but he knew nothing about you, just that your laughter is ridiculously contagious. Then you jumped into the elevator with him in the morning, looking a bit messy but very pretty nevertheless. He could only blink as the elevator sped up and moments later you were out of sight.

But then you strolled into the IT department with your ruined computer and he finally learned your name. While he wanted to help with your laptop as much and fast as possible, he was also dreading the moment you’d pick the harddrive up with all your files and then never talk to him again. He felt silly, crushing on a woman he only officially met just a few hours before, but he couldn’t help it. Even when you were visibly stressed and worried he thought you were enchanting. 

He was not expecting you to ask for his help, but luckily his brain clicked instantly and agreed without hesitation. For one, he’s been dealing with boring projects as the rookie on the team and this seems like a great challenge for him. 

On the other hand, he would have said yes to anything you asked him, literally. 

So now as he walks into the meeting room where you’re supposed to meet his excitement is mixed with some anxiety, because as much as he is curious about this project he is nervous to spend so much time with you all of a sudden. He can only hope he won’t seem like a freak to you.

Thanks to the early Skype session with Sammy you’re on time too, arriving to the office building just minutes after Harry. He’s setting his laptop up when you arrive, his head snapping up when you approach the desk and take the seat next to him.

“Morning,” you smile at him warmly.

“Good morning,” he smiles back, fixing his glasses to sit straight before reaching for the extra cup of coffee. “Um, I brought you this. Actually, I realized too late that I don’t know how you like your coffee, so y-you don’t have to drink it…”

“Oh! That’s very kind, thank you! I drink coffee however I can,” you chuckle. “I just need the caffeine.”

You see a small smile flash across his face before he returns to his computer while you settle next to him. 

“Before we start, I wanted to go over something with you.” Harry turns to you curiously as you try to figure out what to even say. “This is a huge thing and I know it needs a lot of time and work. I don’t feel comfortable letting you do it without getting anything for the work you do.”

“Oh, I-I don’t need anything, I’m glad to help.”

“That’s very kind, but it still doesn’t feel fair. If there is anything I can do for you, literally anything, just feel free to ask. I would feel better if I knew you’re getting your reward for your work.”

Harry thinks about it for a few seconds before nodding to himself.

“Do I have to come up with something now?”

“No,” you chuckle. “Just promise me you’ll think of some way I can pay you back.”

“Okay.”

In the next hour you learn two things. One, working with Harry is incredibly easy. He is efficient, communicates well and simply a great at teamwork, it’s like a breath of fresh air after some of the people you’ve previously worked with.

The other thing you learn is that he is incredibly smart and it makes him very… sexy.

God, you shouldn’t be having these thoughts after what happened with Eric, but you’re not immune to a good-looking man with so much knowledge, especially when it’s in IT. You know nothing about coding and when he pulls up his miles long codes, types quietly for a few minutes and then shows you what he did, explaining to you the science behind it… it’s making you feel things you shouldn’t be. It’s so attractive when someone knows so much about something and they’re passionate and devoted to the field. It’s clear that Harry’s field is programming and he is ridiculously good at it. 

You were afraid the task would turn out to be impossible and every time he spends just a little more time silently staring at his code you’re expecting him to give up and tell you he can’t do it.

But he comes up with something every time and by the time the meeting ends you feel oddly enthusiastic and optimistic about the whole makeover that was scaring you to death just yesterday.

“Harry, you are… truly a life saver,” you sigh contently as you lean back in your seat, a long list of tasks on your screen, but you can actually see the light at the end of the tunnel now. 

“I’m happy to help,” he smiles shyly, nodding to himself. 

“Do not forget about the payment, I really want to pay it all back to you.”

“I won’t, I promise,” he chuckles softly.

“Alright. I’ll see you tomorrow, right?”

“Tomorrow,” he confirms before packing up his stuff and leaving.

You stay in your seat for a little longer, just having a break before starting your actual work day. Opening up your calendar you check what meetings you have today and that’s when you face what you’ve been religiously ignoring since yesterday’s ordeal.

The weekly marketing sync where most of the time it’s just you and Eric, because Dominik, the third person who should be present likes to cancel last minute. 

It’s ridiculous that you still haven’t gotten into contact with him. Part of you was expecting him to come to you, to give you any kind of explanation though there is nothing he could have said that would have explained why he did all of that.

It’s been radio silence on his part and now you have to face him and talk to him.

You’d rather throw up in the middle of the office than do it, but you have to suck it up and deal with him.

He is there in the meeting room when you walk in, typing away on his computer like nothing happened, like he didn’t just try to ruin your career.

“Eric?” you call out, your voice sounds a lot more confident than you were expecting luckily.

He looks up, his face remains completely blank and it just angers you even more.

“Hey,” he nods without batting an eye.

“Hey?” you chuckle, as you close the door behind you, shutting you away from the rest of the people outside. “Don’t you have something to say to me?”

“Y/N, do you really want to do this?” he sighs, as if it was tiring to even think about the situation.

“Eric, you stole my whole presentation and sold it as yours!”

“Are you sure about that?”

You’re seeing red. And you’ve never been this close to actually punching someone in the face. 

“Of course I’m sure about it! That was my presentation! Are you fucking kidding me?!”

Eric stands from his seat, taking his sweet time as he walks closer, trying to intimidate you with the height difference, which used to work, you even found it hot when he towered over you, but now it’s like his existence is giving you the ick.

“You have no proof, Y/N. And you didn’t say a word at the meeting. That ship has sailed, now it’s time to move on.”

“It was all just a joke to you?”

“I told you at the beginning I didn’t want anything serious, that wasn’t a lie.”

“But did you do it just to fuck my presentation up? We literally started hooking up when the open position was announced.”

“Does it matter?”

“It does!” you laugh in disbelief, tears stinging your eyes, but you refuse to give him the satisfaction of seeing you cry because of him.

“Okay,” he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I just wanted to get to know you and see what you’d come up with for the presentation, but then one thing followed the other and… I went with it.” He shrugs and then goes back to his computer like you just discussed the weather and not how he used you and then threw you away.

You can’t hold yourself together any longer, so you turn around and get as far from him as possible as you try not to start sobbing in the middle of the office. Fuck, this shouldn’t hurt this much, but you really trusted him, you thought you could have something serious, you were hoping Sammy wouldn’t be right about him, but she was. Unfortunately.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you mumble under your breath as you approach your desk Zaya is not in today, so it’s pretty calm around your desk, but then you spot someone lingering there.

“Y/N?” Harry sees how shaken you look as you finally reach him at your desk. “A-Are you alright?”

“Hi Harry,” you force a smile out, but you can’t fool anyone with it. “Did we… Do we have a meeting or something?”

“No, I just wanted to show something… Y/N, are you about to cry?””

“N-No,” you shake your head, but your lips are already wobbling and you fail to prove your words right.

“Uh, come on, let’s have a break. Want to come up to the roof?” He gently circles an arm around your shoulders and you let him lead you back to the elevators.

“Roof? We can go out to the roof?” you ask, wiping your tears away.

He doesn’t reply, just makes sure to shield you from the curious eyes as you make your way up to the top of the building. You genuinely didn’t know the roof could be used and when you see Harry push the heavy door open that leads outside you’re guessing it’s not exactly a public spot, but you don’t question it.

It looks just like how a rooftop should look, it’s definitely not open for public use but when Harry leads you over the corner and you see a little bench there, facing the panoramic view, you know you have just found a secret spot.

“Is this where you hide from Steven?” you attempt to joke as you sit down with him. 

“Sometimes, yes,” he chuckles. “Not my spot though, I think the janitor comes up here to smoke, but I haven’t run into him yet.”

You sit in silence, Harry gives you time and space to pull yourself together, not rushing you to talk at all and you’re grateful for his patience. Staring ahead at the view you take a few deep breaths, telling yourself not to let Eric’s bullshit get to your head. 

“I’m sorry you had to… deal with my tantrum,” you chuckle sadly at last. 

“That wasn’t a tantrum,” he smiles softly. “And don’t be sorry, everyone could have a bad day. Want to talk about what happened?”

“I trusted the wrong person,” you purse your lips. “Um, the virus you found on my computer. Someone from the company put it there to fuck up my chances for a promotion I’ve been dreaming of for a long time.”

“What? Are you… are you serious?”

“Yeah and the worst part is that… god, don’t tell anyone, but I’ve been kind of… hooking up with him and he said it was all just to get closer to me.”

Harry opens his mouth to say something, but then ends up closing it, processing what you just told him. You don’t blame him for being lost and confused, it’s a shitshow, to say the least. 

“That’s… That’s awful, I’m sorry,” he clears his throat, gently shaking his head. 

“You have nothing to be sorry about,” you chuckle. “I trusted the wrong person. Learned my lesson,” you shrug, and you wish you could actually end it all in your head with that, but you know it will bother you for a while at least. 

“Can I ask who this person is?”

“Eric Sonders.”

“I think… I know him. Didn’t think he could be this… vile.”

“Me neither!” you laugh. 

“So… he stole your idea and presentation, so now you have to do something else? And that’s the makeover?”

Nodding you briefly tell him what happened at the meeting, he listens intently and then shakes his head in disapproval, probably just as upset and lost about Eric’s behavior as you are. 

“You should report him, this is incredibly unethical and unacceptable.”

“I have no proof. We can’t prove that he did it all to my computer, you said it yourself.”

“Shit, you’re right.”

While Harry is deep in his thoughts you just stare ahead of yourself, doing a short assessment of your current situation. This should have been an exciting, professionally challenging time in your life, working on something that would earn you your promotion, but now, you feel like it’s more out of your reach than ever.

“We’ll make it work,” Harry speaks up, as if he could read your mind. “We can do it.”

“You really think so?”

“Yeah. It’s gonna be a tight stretch, but… It’s not impossible.”

“You are truly a life saver for agreeing to do it, Harry. I have no idea what I would do without you.”

He turns to you with a sheepish smile and you notice the slight pink shade on his cheeks as he nods.

“I’m happy to help.”

Part of you knew this would be deadly, but even after expecting the worst, it hits you like a train.

In the next two weeks you feel like you spend every waking moment working on the project with Harry. Sometimes you do it together, sharing ideas, discussing them, sometimes you’re together but work in silence and sometimes you do it apart. Whichever it is, you eat, drink and dream with the new website.

While Harry is taking care of the coding, you do everything else, that means content writing, planning, organizing and also designing. It’s been ages since the last time you designed anything, once upon a time you thought you’d end up in that field, but then somehow marketing came into the picture and now you have to combine your two passions. 

It’s destroying you absolutely, but slowly it’s starting to add up and you can see the progress. 

On a Friday evening you’re still in the office after seven, practically everyone has left by now, but you’re deep in work with Harry beside you. It's one of those quiet sessions, when you’re working together, but only speak when there’s an issue. Neither of you said anything for about an hour when the silence is interrupted by Harry’s ringing phone.

“Ah, sorry,” he mumbles, jumping in his seat at the sudden noise as he reaches for the phone, checking the caller ID before his eyes go wide. “Oh shit,” he mumbles and you look up at him as he answers the call. “Hey Mitch!”

You hear a voice from the phone, but it’s too muffled for you to make out what they are saying.

“Um, I’m kind of still at the office… No, I didn’t forget!” he protests, but the look on his face clearly tells you he did forget something. “I-I don’t know… Yeah, I’ve been just working with Y/N… No, I won’t– Mitch… No!... Uh, okay…”

He holds the phone away from his ear, covering the mic with a hand as he looks at you with anxious eyes, he looks like a reindeer caught in headlights. 

“Um, I forgot I was supposed to meet two of my friends for a few drinks. Is it okay if I leave now?”

“Oh God, of course! Harry, it’s so late, I shouldn’t have kept you here so long.”

“You didn’t keep me,” he chuckles, before the worried look returns to his face. “Actually, would you… I mean only if you want to–So do you maybe… want to come?”

It’s adorable how he stumbles over his own words and you see the familiar pink shade tinting his face again, it’s a color you’ve seen a lot lately and you’ve grown to quite like it. 

“Oh, I wouldn’t want to intrude on your time with your friends.”

“You wouldn’t intrude, I mean, I’m asking because I want you to join, obviously.”

“I-I’ll just go home and work some more, it’s fine–”

“Y/N, we’ve been working all day,” he chuckles. “You deserve some free time as well.”

You think of his words, these two weeks has been so busy you didn’t even do anything else than working and sleeping practically. Some off time would be actually amazing for your fried brain.

“Only if you truly don’t mind,” you say at last.

“Let’s pack then,” he beams with a smile as he shuts his computer down.

Twenty minutes later you’re walking into a bar you’ve never been to, joining Harry’s friends for drinks and though you can’t put your finger on it, but for some reason you feel a bit anxious. 

“Hey guys,” Harry waves at a couple sitting in a dimly lit booth. The woman is the first one to look at you with a beaming, bright smile as she slides out and holds her hand out for you.

“Hi! You must be Y/N! I’m Sarah and this is my husband, Mitch,”

“It’s nice to meet you,” you breathe out as you shake hands with Mitch as well.

You’re instantly bombarded with questions from Sarah as you slip into the booth and don’t even notice that Harry leaves and then returns with two drinks.

“Oh, thank you,” you smile at him as he sits beside you.

“So how is the project going?” Mitch speaks up, lazily draping an arm to the back of the seat behind Sarah.

“It’s going good,” Harry hums with a small nod, very humble about how much he has gotten done in just the first week.

“Mostly because of Harry’s hard work,” you add, praising him the way he deserves and it brings back that pink shade to his cheeks.

Sarah and Mitch are very easy to talk to, they seem curious about the projects the two of you are working on and just you in general. You’re having a great time hanging out with them and you feel like you’ve known them for a long time even though you literally just met.

You don’t even notice how time flies by, only when Sarah checks the time and lets Mitch know that they need to be heading home so the babysitter can leave.

“It was really nice meeting you, Y/N. I hope we can do this some other time,” Sarah hugs you.

“If Harry doesn’t mind me interrupting his time with his friends, then I’m in,” you chuckle, looking at the man in question who just shakes his head with a shy smile, letting you know he definitely does not mind.

“Alright, then it’s settled!”

They say their goodbye to Harry as well and suddenly it’s just the two of you in the booth and Harry is noticeably more nervous than before.

“Um, w-we don’t have to stay, if you want to go home, you co–”

“I’m happy to stay, Harry,” you smile at him without hesitation. He seems surprised, but excited at your answer.

You order another round of drinks and with the previous ones already consumed, it seems like Harry is slowly opening up, leaving his shyness behind and you get to have a peek behind his walls. The more you find out about him the more sure you get that he is truly an amazing, brilliant person and you wish you had met him earlier.

Maybe then you wouldn’t have fallen for Eric’s bullshit. Maybe then you would have fallen for him.

The drinks you’ve had don’t actually let it register, but you’re already developing a crush on him. How could you not? He is sweet, caring, smart, very thoughtful, basically the polar opposite of Eric. It’s making you question what you even saw in that asshole, you really put the bar too low.

“Oh shit, it’s already three in the morning,” you chuckle, when you finally check the time. “I should head home, I can’t sleep all day tomorrow,” you sigh, rubbing your face with your hands, realizing just how tired you feel. 

“I’ll call an Uber, is it okay if we share one?”

“It’s more than okay,” you smile at him lazily.

Minutes later you’re out in front of the bar, waiting for the ride to arrive. It has gotten significantly chillier, you did not dress for a night out so you’re holding your blazer jacket tight on yourself. When Harry notices he shrugs off his jean jacket without a word and drapes it over your shoulders.

“No, you’ll be cold!” you try to protest, but he shakes his head.

“I have a hoodie in my backpack,” he shrugs and pulls out a black hoodie, putting it on right when a car pulls up in front of you.

“Thank you for inviting me out tonight,” you quietly speak up on the backseat of the Uber, staring at Harry’s dimly lit handsome face. His glasses slid down on the bridge of his nose and you had enough drinks to have the courage to reach out and push them back gently. The gesture seemingly surprised him, but he doesn’t protest, just keeps his eyes focused on you.

“It was nice hanging out with you outside of the office.”

“Now we know we have things to talk about outside of the project,” you chuckle, making him grin as well. “We’re a great duo, Harry.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah. I wasn’t sure about it at first, I have never had to work this closely together with an IT guy and I was afraid I might be too intense for you. But it all turned out so good, I like spending time with you.”

“Really?”

“Is it that surprising?” you chuckle, letting your head fall back and rest on the back of the seat. “You’re a cool guy, Harry Styles. And very handsome.”

The last comment rolls off your tongue before you could bite it back and though it’s too dark to see it, you just know he is all blushed. Before any of you could speak up, the car comes to a stop, you’ve arrived at your building. Harry gets out of the car with you and walks you up to the door. 

“See you on monday?” he shyly kicks the dust, hands in his pockets. 

“Yeah. Thanks for tonight,” you repeat yourself and there’s a heartbeat of silence where you feel that moment.

You probably should not be feeling this way, not after getting yourself burnt so bad, but you can’t help it. You want to kiss Harry and for a split second you believe he wants to do the same. His eyes flicker down to your lips and you move just a tiny bit closer to him, time stands still and just when you think he’ll do it, he clears his throat and steps back.

“Good night, Y/N,” he mumbles nodding before he walks back to the car. 

You stand there, feeling stupid as you blink after him before snapping out of your trance, forcing yourself to walk inside. As you take a quick shower and get ready to bed you get into a spiral. 

First of all you’re such a needy idiot for jumping from one man to the other. You should not be looking at men at all after Eric and yet here you are, crushing on yet another coworker of yours, what is wrong with you?! 

And second, why were you expecting him to kiss you? You’ve barely known each other for a few weeks and Harry is a reasonable man, he is probably not at all like you, he probably doesn’t want to get involved with a coworker especially not you. Some signs were giving you a feeling that he might have liked you more than just a friend, but you must have totally misread him. 

You have to control yourself and not scare him away, especially since he is doing you a huge favor, the last thing you want to do is to make him uncomfortable.

Harry hasn’t stopped thinking about you all weekend. Specifically about that moment in front of your apartment building where he would have sworn he felt you were expecting him to kiss you, but he couldn’t do it. Not when you were clearly intoxicated.

He didn’t want you to think he would ever take advantage of you like that.

The next week starts oddly. He gets some extra tasks and you get involved in another project as well, so you can’t work together like last week. Monday and then Tuesday rushes by without the two of you meeting. By Wednesday Harry is craving to see you again and it seems like it’s finally happening, because you don’t cancel your morning meeting. He arrives in a good mood with coffee for you and him, excited to show you everything he finished in the past days.

But then he can feel the change in you when you walk in.

You seem off, but at first he can’t tell why. You’re not your bubbly self, you seem very closed off and oddly professional compared to the times the two of you met earlier. Harry tries to tell himself it’s nothing serious, but the more time you spend together the more obvious it’s getting and he can’t take it anymore.

“Y/N?” he quietly asks at the end of the meeting. “Is everything alright?”

“Sure,” you nod, but it’s like as if you didn’t even believe it yourself.

“Did… Did I do something that upset you?”

“Nope, I just…” You sigh, giving up the facade you’ve been trying hard to keep up. “Listen, about Friday, I’m very sorry, Harry.”

“Sorry? For what?”

“I feel like I overstepped a line and made you uncomfortable, I’m sorry about that. If I made you uncomfortable. I want us to work well together and my unfiltered mouth was not at all professional that night, so I’m really sorry about that.”

Harry is blinking at you, confused and lost about what you truly meant by all that. He did not see this coming and now he has no idea how to react other than just looking at you with a startled expression.

“Can we just go back to where we were before that?”

“Where… I don’t-I mean, um…”

“Let’s just forget about when we parted ways, please?”

“So… Uh, yeah,” he at last nods, trying his best to mask his disappointment. He thought there might be something more between the two of you, but this conversation is proof that you just had too many drinks and you didn’t mean any of it. 

“Thank you so much,” you breathe out in relief. “I wouldn’t want to ruin our work together.”

Harry nods silently and doesn’t ask more about it. 

He is trying hard to hide his disappointment and part of home wants to know if you felt even the slightest spark on Friday or it was all just the alcohol, but he is not one to dig into things that might end him up in an awkward situation. He just swallows it all down and pulls his walls up again.

You can feel a bitter taste in your mouth as well after your talk with Harry. Something felt off, but you can’t put your finger on it and soon you have something else to worry about. 

You’re surprised to see Eric chatting with Zaya when you return to your desk. Your intern, bless her heart, is trying to keep a straight and professional face but you can tell she wants to scream at the man who definitely thinks he is charming the young girl with his small talk. 

“Eric? What are you doing here?” you ask, biting your tongue so you don’t tell him to leave and fuck himself.

“Hey, can we talk? Privately?” 

You look at Zaya and her eyes tell you what she thinks: it’s the literal worst idea ever. And you want to say no to him, but judging from his antics lately he would somehow use it against you so you don’t have much of a choice.

“Sure,” you mumble and the two of you take an empty meeting room. “So?” 

“Look, I want to apologize.”

What? Is he for real? That was unexpected.

“My behavior was uncalled for and very unprofessional.”

“Do you mean the way you stole my idea and presentation or the way you talked to me when I confronted you about it?”

“Can you not attack me, please?” he gives you a look that would have put you in place before, but now it just annoys you. He is trying to make you be the one in the wrong and you want to snap at him for still being such an ass, but you want to be the bigger person and stay professional. No matter how much you hate him, you’re still colleagues. 

“Go on,” you sigh, folding your arms over your chest.

“I know I can’t change the past but I think it's best if we deal with it in a decent way.”

How noble of him, pulling the rug from underneath you and then acting like he is this decent, peaceful man who just wants to work together. You want to throw up, but you swallow it back and force a smile onto your face.

“Sure, of course,” you tell him.

Seemingly Eric is satisfied with the work he did, but he is so tone deaf it hurts. He smiles nodding and heads out of the room with you behind him.

“Great talk!” he enthuses before walking away.

Zaya turns to you with wide eyes and you just shake your head.

“He wanted to apologize, though he didn’t really succeed, but I feel like it doesn’t matter to him,” you shrug as you sit behind your desk.

“You’re not forgiving him, right?”

“Of course not,” you scoff. “But we’re still colleagues, I can’t keep up the beef, it’s too tiring. I’ll just ignore his existence.”

You don’t think much of Eric’s ridiculous attempt to make peace, you keep your focus on your own project. 

There’s a bit of awkwardness between you and Harry after your little talk, but you feel like with time it eases and you write it off as just him not fond of situations like the one you put him into on Friday. 

Thursday afternoon the two of you are having another session together, working on some details he’s been trying to figure out himself, but he needs your input to finish them as well. It turns into brainstorming which results in a bunch of new things you want to include, but it will also add more work to your plate.

“I’m really sorry I always just keep adding new stuff to your load,” you sigh, truly feeling like you’re constantly overstepping boundaries, but Harry just shakes his head.

“I’m excited about these all. These are great functions and I’m looking forward to writing the code.”

“That sounded so nerdy,” you chuckle, but notice that Harry’s smile has disappeared.

“Sorry.”

“Oh no, I didn’t mean it like that! It’s great, I love it when someone is so passionate about something. I love it when you get deep into the tech talk. I think it’s amazing how much you know about these stuff.”

“But you can always just tell me to shut up, I know a lot of people don’t like it when I talk like that,” he mumbles, noticeably avoiding looking you in the eyes.

“Has… someone told you not to talk about programming?”

“Um…” He shifts uncomfortably and you’re about to tell him he doesn’t need to answer, but then he speaks up. “My ex girlfriend hated it when I talked about IT stuff,” he shrugs, but you can tell it’s something he struggled with. 

You can’t imagine ever telling him to stop talking about something that brings him this much joy. It’s clear this is his element and any woman that would try to restrain it is an idiot and can’t appreciate how wonderful this man is. 

You watch him quietly finish up on his computer before he starts to shut it down and you know you have to say something.

“She did not deserve you.”

He blinks at you surprised so you continue.

“Anyone who wants you to stop talking about something that makes you happy is not a person you want in your life, Harry, I hope you know that.”

“Uh… thank you,” he mumbles, that lovely pink shade taking over his face once again.

“You can always talk tech with me. I like listening to it.”

“You do?”

“Yeah. It amazes me, because I know nothing about it.” And it’s really hot, you want to add, but then bite your tongue. 

There’s a tiny smile on his pink lips and you can tell this moment matters to him more than you could imagine and you’re glad you could make him happy like that.

“D-Do you want to grab something to eat?” he suggests as the two of you head out of the meeting room.

“That sounds great! I’m starving!” you groan. “Let me just grab my bag from my desk.

Harry nods and follows you, he already has his backpack with him. You’re musing about what you should have and Harry is telling you about this amazing bagel place he loves when you spot the familiar figure near your desk. 

“Eric, what are you doing here?” you ask, but you’re tempted to phrase your words differently, because it’s quite obvious he was snooping around your desk, not expecting you to show up after office hours.

“Y/N, hi! I was just… I thought I left some papers here the other day,” he clears his throat, stepping away from your desk. 

“You had no papers with you,” you simply say, knowing well something is off with him.

“Maybe I remembered wrong,” he chuckles. “Alright, see you later,” he waves and then leaves quickly before you could ask any more questions. 

“What was that about?” Harry asks as you launch at your desk, checking what might have changed.

“He was looking for something. He is trying to play me again,” you hiss through your teeth, frantically examining what he could have put his hands on, but you see nothing out of place. But then you realize that he must have thought you left your laptop, that’s what he was looking for. “Oh my God,” you gasp, quickly starting your laptop to see if there is anything wrong with it. 

“What? What’s going on?”

“Harry, can you, uhh—Can you check if there is anything wrong with my laptop?” you plead as he rounds your desk and sits nodding, though he is a tad bit lost about what’s happening.

“Like, check if there’s another virus, or something?”

“Yes. I think he was trying to tamper with it again, I can’t know for sure if he hasn’t touched it earlier.”

You knew his half-assed apology was tactic, but you didn’t think he would do it all over again. Eric really isn’t the person you thought him to be.

You watch Harry type away on your computer, anxiously waiting for him to say anything and in the meanwhile you’re planning how you’ll get rid of Eric the moment you finally get your well-deserved promotion. There’s no way you’re letting a snake like him work at the company. 

“I don’t see anything,” Harry finally leans back and you exhale in relief.

“I can’t let it out of my sight from now on,” you grumble, shaking your head. 

In this moment you feel like you’re running out of energy, all because you trusted the wrong person. Feeling defeated you collapse into Zaya’s chair, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” Harry softly says, as if he could read your mind.

“I’m in this situation because I made all the worst choices. I can’t blame anyone else but myself.”

“You couldn’t have known this is how it would turn out to be.”

“I know, but…”

“No but. Just… You know what? I’ll install an extra security program on your laptop so only you can access it, alright?”

“Really?” you sit up straight.

“Yeah, just give me a few moments.”

He gets down to work, works his magic and a minute later he is explaining to you what he got set up on your laptop to secure it.

“Harry, I owe you so much at this point,” you sigh in relief when it sinks in that Eric will not get his hands on your things again. “I have no idea how I will be able to pay you back.”

You notice a slight shift in him as he clears his throat, looking at you nervously.

“About that… I-I think I know h-how–I mean I thought about what… you could…”

“You know what you want in return?” you perk up, happy to do something for Harry after everything he did for you. 

“Y-you can say no, it’s okay, I just–Um…”

“Harry, whatever it is, my answer is gonna be yes,” you chuckle, placing a gentle hand on his arm. He looks at your hand and then up to your eyes before finally speaking up.

“Go on a date… with me?”

Harry has been working up the courage to ask you all day, but he didn’t think he would have the balls to say it out loud. Sarah and Mitch urged him to shoot his shot, even after the kind of awkward conversation you had earlier. His friends were convinced you were into him regardless, but he’s been struggling to believe it himself.

It was kind of random he blurted it out, but now it’s been said and he is about to faint, waiting for your response. You’re staring back at him, eyebrows slightly raised, lips parted, but no words have left your mouth since his question.

“Y-You don’t have to, I-I understand–I mean, it’s–”

“Harry,” you cut him off. “I would love to go on a date with you,” you finally tell him and it feels like a stone has been lifted off his shoulders, his heart is about to jump out of his chest any moment.

“But I won’t take it as your payment,” you add and now it’s his turn to be surprised. 

“What?” he breathes out, not sure what to make of your words.

“I would never take it as a payment, because I would go on a date with you regardless, Harry. Think of something else and we will have the date as well.”

“Really?” 

“Of course,” you chuckle. 

“Okay, alright, um… then… it’s a date!”

Harry is late.

He promised to be there at the meeting room on time to support you and answer any tech related questions that might come up in connection with your presentation. Eric is now presenting his (your) idea, he has added some features to it since he stole the whole thing, but it’s still mainly yours. 

“Thank you very much for your attention,” he nods as he finishes his talk and the board claps shortly before it’s your turn to stand in front of them. 

You’re plugging your laptop together with the projector when the door of the meeting room opens and Harry’s head pops inside. Relief washes over you as you watch him apologize for his late arrival and take a seat. Your gaze meets his and he smiles at you sweetly, holding his thumb up for you as you load the presentation. Now you feel braver, knowing he is here to support you.

You desperately wish you could read minds as you go on with your presentation. You’re met with mostly blank faces, but they were the same during Eric’s presentation as well, so you can’t tell what they are thinking about. It’s going smoothly, you rehearsed it a million times instead of sleeping in the past few days and when it’s time for questions you ace all of them, even the few tech ones. You’ve spent so much time with Harry that you can easily give an answer to everything at this point.

“Thank you for your attention,” you nod smiling at the end and disconnect your laptop from the projector, walking back to Harry.

“You did amazing,” he smiles at you proudly and his approval means the most to you. 

“Thanks.”

“I’m sorry I was late, I had to take care of something.”

“It’s okay. I’m just happy you’re here.”

“Of course. I wouldn’t have missed it.” The CEO stands up and all heads turn in his direction.

“Thank you for the presentations, I would like to ask the candidates to leave the room so we can vote.”

You gather all your stuff and head out with Harry by your side. Eric ignores your existence, as if he didn’t lie and cheat his way to this moment, but you’re not stressing yourself anymore about it. 

You definitely believe in karma.

“You’ve got this,” Harry smiles at you softly and your heart melts at his expression. 

You’re planning to have your date tonight. It’s gonna be either a ‘you’ve got the promotion, now let’s celebrate with our date’ occasion or ‘you didn’t get the promotion so let’s cheer you up with a date’, you’re fine with both, truly. You know you put everything you had into this promotion and if they still decide not to choose you, that’s their loss and your sign to move on. 

You’re beyond excited about your date. There’s been an obvious change in your dynamic since Harry has asked you out, there are more glances, little touches, compliments and some very apparent sexual tension that’s still within the lines of comfort, it’s not too hard to control yourself, but you keep noticing more and more things about him that are pulling you towards him.

“I will miss our little work session,” you smile back at him shyly.

“Little? They usually lasted hours,” he chuckles, making you laugh too.

“Loved them all,” you shrug and the look on his face tells you he did too. 

The board takes some time to make their decision and when the door opens fifteen minutes later your heart skips a beat. The CEO asks you all to return to the room and you take your previous seat, Harry sitting next to you. His hand brushes against your knee shortly and you look at him, your gaze meeting his as he gives you an encouraging smile.

“Thank you all for these amazing presentations, we were very pleased with the plans and projects,” the CEO starts as he stands at the head of the table. “We had no doubt you two are the best applicants for the position and it’s been hard to decide who to choose, but at last we made a decision.”

Oh God, you’re about to throw up. Is it you? Is it Eric? You hope you won’t cry. That could happen in either case, but you really don’t want to cry in front of all these people. 

“The person we chose to fulfill the position is…” His eyes scan over the both of you as you hold your breath and then it finally lands on you. “Y/N Y/L/N. Congratulations.”

And just like that, your lungs fill with air again and it feels like a rock has been lifted off your shoulders. 

“I told you,” you hear Harry beside you and when you look at him you see pride all over his face and you can’t stop yourself from throwing your arms around his neck to hug him.

“Thank you, it wouldn’t have happened without you,” you mumble as you squeeze him tight before letting go of him, going up to the board to shake hands. 

At first you don’t even process it, but then Eric’s voice hits your ear and you realize he is turning red across the table, complaining nonstop about the outcome.

“...The whole thing was so fucking out of the blue! Redesigning the whole website? That’s like suicide!...”

You don’t even have the chance to react to his comments, the CEO speaks up for everyone.

“Y/N’s idea is daring, innovative and brave, just what we need. We don’t want to play it safe and your idea was definitely in the safe zone.”

“His idea,” you scoff under your breath.

“Actually, there is something I would like to show you, if you have a few more minutes,” Harry speaks up as he starts his laptop and moves over to where the board is. You’re watching him completely puzzled.

“There’s been an unfortunate incident about the presentations. Y/N’s original idea was stolen, a virus has been planted on her computer to cover up the deed, but I could not recover enough information about the perpetrator to make accusations, that was until a few days ago.”

What?!

You see Eric’s red face turn completely white as Harry types away on his computer and then shows something to the board. They curiously eye the alleged proof as Harry continues.

“Proof could be only found on the perpetrator’s device and a few days ago I had access to Eric’s computer when he brought it in for a check up, since it’s been working too slow. As expected and told, I make a full check on every device in these cases and found unquestionable proof that Eric stole Y/N’s presentation through the virus.”

Oh lord. 

You watch as everyone on the board processes what they see on Harry’s computer and you can feel the switch in them towards Eric.

“Eric, let’s have a chat in my office. Now,” the CEO says and it’s definitely an order and Eric doesn’t try to go against it, just nods and follows him out of the room.

“Harry, why didn’t you tell me you were planning to do this?!” you ask as you rush up to him. The board members are leaving the meeting room, leaving the two of you alone. 

“I uh– I wanted it to be a surprise. Eric showed up at the IT department the other day and I got his case without him knowing so I could snoop around. Found the evidence right away so I thought the board should know what he did.”

“Why did you wait until they announced who got the promotion? This could have kicked him out of the contest right away.”

“I knew you’d get it,” he smiles shyly. “I had no doubt they would choose you, I wanted you to experience defeating him after what he did to you.”

To say you’re touched is an understatement. He didn’t just help you immensely to get this promotion, but also went out of his way to serve you justice. He has done more for you than anyone ever. 

You just know you can’t let the moment pass and ignoring the fact that you’re still at work, though no one is around to see, you close the distance between the two of you and press your lips against his.

This kiss has been hanging there for a while and you’d be lying if you said you have never fantasized about what it would be like to kiss Harry, but reality is a thousand times more magical. His lips are soft and warm, go so well with yours and once his first wave of shock passes he finally returns it and you melt in his arms. 

You had a feeling Harry was a great kisser, but the way he claims your lips just blows your mind. He is sweet and gentle but also demanding at the same time and if only you weren’t in the office you’d pretty much jump into his arms and let him do whatever he wants to you. 

Somewhere in the distance a phone rings and it breaks the spell, making you realize that you shouldn’t get carried away. 

“Sorry,” you smile, your lips barely just an inch away from his still. “I got… I just–Thank you. For everything you did for me.”

“Don’t be sorry,” he returns your smile and pecks your lips shortly one more time. “And I will always be here to support you.”

You might look like a lunatic as you watch the guy on the other side of the glass door of your office finish up the sign on the door.

Y/N Y/L/N, Head Of Digital Marketing.

God, you still can’t have enough of the sound of it even though you got the promotion two months ago. Okay, the first month you spent in your old job, teaching the ropes for your successor before you could start your transition into your new position.

Now it’s official and you couldn’t be happier about it.

Checking the time you sit back to your computer to finish up work for the day. It’s been one hell of a week, you’ve worked overtime three times so it’s great that today is finally Friday. You answer some more emails and check your calendar for the next week, making sure everything is settled.

There’s a soft knock on the door and when you look up your heart skips a beat, seeing Harry walk in, his backpack on one shoulder.

“Hey. Are you done?”

“Just one moment,” you smile and he nods, walking over to the window, patiently waiting for you to finish everything up. 

When you turn the computer off and look up at him, you notice that he is staring at you already.

“What?” you ask, packing up.

“Nothing, just… you look so pretty.”

You still haven’t gotten used to his compliments, though they always just keep on coming and coming. You love them.

And you love him.

Walking over to him you wrap your arms around his waist as you steal a kiss. Usually you try to keep the PDA out of the office, but sometimes he is just too hard to resist. Like now.

You’ve been officially a couple for two months, your first date after your big presentation was like a dream, Harry took you to all of his favorite spots in the city and then you just spent hours stargazing on the roof of his apartment’s building, he had a whole setup with a mattress, blankets and pillows, it was the sweetest thing ever, the best way to celebrate your win. Since then, it’s been endless dates, movie nights, trips on the weekend, you’ve been kind of inseparable. Well, outside of the office, because you try your best to stay professional at work. 

“What was that for?” he chuckles softly, his cheeks have that soft pink shade on them that you just want to kiss all over. 

“I’m just happy. That’s it.” Reaching up you fix his glasses before taking a step back and heading out.

Usually you just walk side by side to the elevator, but today you feel extra upbeat, so when you step into the elevator you gently take his hand and lace it together with yours and you can’t help but smile every time you’re in here with Harry.

Because he told you this is where he saw you for the very first time that day you overslept before your disastrous presentation. He was the one who held the elevator’s door for you. You were so disoriented that you didn’t notice him then and he likes to tease you about it, saying that he knew that moment he was into you, all while you didn’t even look at him. In return, you always bring up how you were the one kissing him for the first time. 

It’s crazy to think how much has happened between those two things or even between that morning and today. He was the quiet IT genius who you dragged into your madness. He is still a genius, but you’ve gotten to know the sides of him others can’t see and you love all of them, it just took you some time to open him up. To decode him.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

[ultimate-sword-showdown]

Okay I went on a full wiki rabbit trail and now I have a ton of background information so I can actually write this description, take a looksie at this one if you wouldn't mind. Biggest thing I need here is like, what qualifies as spoilers and what doesn't cause idk the order all this info is revealed to the reader in the actual series. Putting the whole thing under the cut just in case

"Mayalaran is a Shardblade; a type of blade that can be magically summoned or dismissed and can cut through any physical object. She is wielded by Adolin Kholin, who nicknamed her Maya. Prior to learning her name, he refused to give her a name of his choosing, musing that that would be rude. Adolin often speaks to her even though she does not respond. Much of the lore surrounding Mayalaran gets into spoiler territory, so I will place more details under the cut if you are interested in learning more and don’t think you will read the books!

[under the cut] Mayalaran is a true spren, meaning that she had sentience in the cognitive realm (realm of the mind) and appeared as a humanoid (as opposed to lesser spren, which appear as animal- or spirit-like creatures in the cognitive realm and do not have sapience). However, she has been killed and now manifests as a deadeye, giving her once lively grassy hair a brown, wilting look and rendering her eyes black and scratched out. She was once bonded to a Radiant Knight through a Nahel bond (formed by stating Oaths), but when the Radiant she was bonded to broke their Oaths, she was killed and turned into a deadeye. Because of this, she cannot speak and only screeches, and wanders in the cognitive realm following her corpse (the sword, her physical form). Living Shardblades are able to communicate with the person they are bonded to, and are able to shape and manipulate their physical form. They can also be summoned instantaneously. However, as a deadeye, Maya’s form is static and cannot change, and she requires ten heartbeats to be summoned.

Most likely due to the unique way that Adolin interacts with Maya, she has been partially revived and is capable of greater sapience than before. She told Adolin her name, and has spoken on at least one other occasion. Once she moved to protect Adolin from attack by a Fused (in simple terms, an hostile entity) of her own volition, something deadeyes are not known to do. Once, she was summoned in only seven heartbeats instead of ten. After being partially revived, she is able to speak and converse, although her speech is slow or off. It is possible that she may be revived further as the series continues!"

Im sorry, i also can't think of any way to describe mayalaran that isnt rife with spoilers 😭😭🫠

😭😭😭😭😭😭

[najlepsiznajlepsich]

cardigan

pairing: lando norris x reader

word count: 2.7k

warnings: alcohol consumption, cursing, angst (a bit), lando and reader are teenagers (for the most part)

author's note: im sorry for any mistakes, or if i missed a warning, this was supposed to be really inspired by Taylor Swift's cardigan but i got kind of lost in the plot lmao

*

Oh. How you loved this. Giggles of you and your friends were echoing through the house. No one even had an idea of what they were talking about, and half of the words coming out of their mouths were slurred. You weren’t sure about what was going on. Except for Lando’s burning touch on your shoulder. It felt too good. 

Being completely lost in the moment, you nearly didn’t even hear your phone ringing. You reached for it and walked into a different room. You didn’t read the name of the caller, and you should’ve, because when you picked up, your mom started berating you. 

She hung up and you walked back to where your friends were having the time of their lives. “I’m going home, guys.” You said and grabbed your jacket that was thrown over the sofa. The ‘why’s’ of your friends were filling your ears. “I’ll drive you.” Lando jumped up and dragged you out of the house. 

“Mom. Don’t worry I’ll come home in a few hours.” You blurted out. “Oh no, young lady. You’re coming home right now!” she raised her voice and continued.

"When you’re an adult you can do whatever you want! But you’re not, so you’re coming home!” You sighed. Really? “Okay. I’ll be home in a bit.” 

“For who did you get all dressed up like that? I’m surprised you can even walk in them.” Lando commented on your heels as they clicked against the cobblestone path. You just giggled and sat in the passenger’s seat. “You seem too happy, did you want to get out of there or something?” you asked as he started driving. 

“Well, you know I prefer 1 on 1 conversations. That was too much chaos.” “I doubt that you party lion.” He smiled. The car fell into a comfortable silence. As you stopped at a traffic light you felt Lando’s eyes scanning you. 

“I’ve never seen you wearing that t-shirt. Is it ne-“ “Oh no. It was my mom’s.” You cut him off and giggled. “Vintage. So adorable.” You both exploded into laughter at the mean girls reference. He stopped in front of your house and you wished that the ride would last longer. You thanked him and got out of the car. 

You felt his eyes following your silhouette as you walked inside. The front door shut and you leaned against it. “Mom already went to sleep,” your dad said and you exhaled deeply. “Oh, Lando drove you home. He’s such a nice young man isn’t he?” You rolled your eyes and rushed towards your room. 

Lando knew you too well. Putting on those high heels was one of your biggest regrets and they were kicked off immediately. You could barely bring yourself to remove your makeup and change your clothes. But somehow you did. Finally, the bed sank under your body and your mind was already drifting off. 

Your phone beeped. Lando. 

Hope you can hang out next weekend :). 

Oh shit. You totally forgot you’re turning 18 next weekend. 

I def can, mom didn’t say anything. You giggled to yourself as you sent the message. 

She was asleep. Wasn’t she?  

You burst out laughing.  Yeah, and? 

His message popped up immediately: Go to sleep Y/N. Well, why argue.

*

That week went by too fast. School didn’t give you a chance to take a break. But, Saturday rolled around, and now you’re 18. Isn’t it crazy? Only, if you could actually enjoy it. 

There were so many family members in your house, half of them you didn’t even know. And now you were thinking if your mom hasn’t just turned your birthday party into a family reunion. It was too boring. The time went by even slower than when you were in school. You just did your job. Talked to everyone, you even smiled at them politely. 

After a long long time, it was finally silent. Just you, your dad and your mom. And you probably jinxed it, because your phone started ringing. “Ugh, another cousin calling.” You thought before you picked your phone up. Could not be more wrong. 

It’s Lando. 

“Yeah?” you picked up. 

“Don’t you want to go somewhere? Somewhere out?” He spoke slowly.

 “Oh. Uhh, sure? Where are you right-““Outside your house, come out.” He laughed into the phone and hung up. 

You grabbed the closest thing you could put on and walked outside. Your mom’s cardigan. Your feet carried you outside, while your brain wasn’t sure of this. Whatever. 

“Hii!” Lando yelled and hugged you. “Happy birthday! Come on!” He started walking away instantly. “Hey! Where are we going?” You ran after him. “Don’t you want to relax by the lake?” He said, shutting you up immediately.  

Like always, it was quiet. Ducks floated on top of the lake and some insects you weren’t able to recognize flew around you. This was so peaceful. It was like a whole new world. That's just what you needed.

“Look at what I got you,” Lando spoke up. He pulled out two small bottles of alcohol from his pocket and threw one into your lap. “Come on” he muttered as he unscrewed the cap off his bottle. You let him open yours too. 

“I really want to see your reaction,” he laughed as he handed it back to you. You didn’t waste any time as you brought it to your lips and took a sip. Your nose scrunched instantly, and that’s all Lando needed to burst into laughter. “Try mine.”

One sip turned to two, and then it went downhill pretty quickly. “Come on Lando!” You whined as you dragged him behind you. “I have to get home!” You giggled. He pulled you into a hug, which you didn’t mind. Your whole body was cold, and he had a warmth you couldn’t explain. 

It was dark already and the only light that illuminated you was a streetlight right above you. “You’re so warm. I’m freezing.” Lando grunted. Huh? “No, you’re the hot one.” You forgot how to think, and it was obvious by now. “Wow. Thank you.” He just chuckled while you were endlessly defending yourself. Ugh, it’s not like he’s a genius when he’s drunk too. 

And just right after you both calmed down, a song started to play from a nearby house. “How loud did he put it on, if we can hear it here?” You burst out laughing. “Don’t laugh. Dance with me.” Well, who were you to deny that request?

His touch was a tingling sensation on your skin, something you wished you could feel forever. He danced slowly, probably to not make you throw up from the moves. And while you felt sick, it all felt like a beautiful dream. Something not real. It was just too good. 

“Lando…Home” you whispered into his neck, and without a protest he started walking you home. Supported you, caught you when you stumbled, then opened the front door of your house. You kicked off your shoes and sat on the floor. “Okay, goodnight, pretty.” He said in a hushed voice as he shut the door behind him and blood instantly rushed into your cheeks.

“Had a nice night out, young lady?” Your tired dad walked out of the kitchen and went to pick you up from the floor. “Let’s get you to bed.” He suggested and you exhaled. “Please don’t tell mom, please dad.” “I won’t, just go to bed.”

*

And it’s Monday again. Ugh. You hated your Monday classes, especially physics. Your brain couldn’t understand anything at this hour. You nearly fell asleep numerous times, and your blinking turned into microsleep. Your phone, which wasn’t charged from last night, vibrated in your pocket and you reached for it.

Of course, it's Lando. 

Are you free after school?

Yeah. You typed out a quick response and stuffed your phone back into the pocket. 

And until lunch you were walking around with the biggest grin on your face. Like a little kid with a lollypop. Except, you needed to show Lando's response to your girls.

I'll wait for you in front of the school, ok? You read the message aloud to them, who couldn’t refrain themselves from aww-ing. “He definitely wants you.” Your best friend giggled and you rolled your eyes. A chorus of agreement came from all sides of the table. “We’re just friends, I swear.” “Yeah… But you’re in love with him.”

*

Finally, out of the school. Seeing Lando wait there for you made your heart jump a bit. Maybe your friend was right. “Come on, they're waiting for us.” Lando smiled and started walking. “Who? If I can ask?” “Oh, right, just some of my friends.”

Well, you found out that you have a different definition for “some friends”. You expect just your closest friend group. Not another 10 people. And you had no idea who they were. You and Lando sat down on the grass next to them. 

“I need to do my homework.” Lando proclaimed and you burst out laughing. “You? Homework? Good joke.” “It’s actually important, you know?” Lando said with a quiet voice while everyone was laughing. But they moved on from that really quickly. Now they were gossiping about some random people.

Lando kept scribbling into his notebook. Scribbling a whole lot of nothing. “What the hell are you doing?” You whispered and he shushed you. “I don’t want to be here.” He muttered and started doodling on your arm. “Aren’t these your friends?” “I don’t like them.” You scoffed but didn’t question him further. 

As you were sitting there for longer and longer, more messy stars and hearts appeared on your arms. Lando was studying you instead of that homework. “When did you get this one?” He asked and you could hear the tiredness in his voice. “Remember when I tried to learn how to skateboard?” He giggled. “No way.” He yawned, and you continued telling him that story.

It didn’t take long and he was already sleeping on your shoulder. How were you going to get him home? You answered your own question almost instantly. Well, that’s just a future you problem. 

*

Lando calling you to hang out on the weekends became a routine. A comfortable routine that you loved and appreciated. Until it stopped. Unannounced. And you had no idea why. The thought lingered around in your mind. Maybe, he just got bored of you.

Then one weekend hangouts were revived. He called you. Your heart stopped for a second. 

“Hi. You wanna go somewhere out?” he asked, the connection breaking towards the end of the sentence.

“Sure.” You said into the phone, trying so hard to be cool. 

“I’ll come pick you up in 10.” He blurted out and ended the call. 

You haven’t talked to him in so long. Now he sounds totally different. You put on some random clothes that were thrown over the chair and bolted outside. Surprisingly, Lando arrived sooner than he promised. No problem.

But just as you were about to open the passenger door, you noticed a girl sitting there. Okay, so now you’ve been demoted to the backseat. You jumped there and Lando turned around to look at you. 

“Okay, so the teachers said I have to show her around the town. You don’t mind being my assistant, do you?” Lando explained the situation very quickly. Too quickly. “No, not at all,” he smiled and the girl smiled back.

It was the foreign exchange student. You had English with her. The reason you remember her is just because she always talked about her weekend with Lando. Yeah, you were jealous. And what? 

He started driving around showing her all your spots. Where you had the best times of your lives. And now she knows them too. Ugh. Your secret spots weren’t secret anymore. And of course, she has to be the one who sees them. While sitting in your seat.

You were seething and you hated it. This wasn’t fair. You just couldn’t take it. 

"Lando, can you drop me off home… My mom wants me to do something." He responded calmly. "Sure." Fuck. He really had no idea. As soon as that car stopped by your house, you jumped out. No goodbye, no see ya.  Nothing.

You stomped your way inside and when the door shut behind you. Tears poured out of your eyes. And for once in your life you were happy your mom wasn’t asleep when you came home. She just hugged you, not asking a single question. “Boys are assholes, that one definitely did not deserve you.”

*

The rest of your high school life went by fine. You and Lando stayed friends, just not as close as before. Somehow, he could not figure out why. 

The graduation day was something you were looking forward to. You liked having someone by your side, but no one could actually understand you. So the plan was to ghost them. Maybe too harsh, shame that you didn’t give a fuck. You were waiting for your parents so you could go to lunch together. Until you felt a hand on your shoulder. 

“Hey, Y/N.” Lando. Of course, it has to be him. “So… This is going to sound absolutely crazy, but…” You rolled your eyes and waited for whatever shitty idea he was about to introduce you to.  “Do you want to travel around the country with me?” He asked, not sure if you were even listening. “I have classes I don’t have to attend and I’ll do my assignments on the road.”

“I can’t do that, are you crazy? I got into a good university and I won’t do some random shit with you, just because you want to.” You snapped at his unawareness. “I actually value my education-“ “I do too, please, it would be so fun.” He whined out. “How about you go ask your perfect best friend. I’m sure she'd love to go with you” His eyes went wide. 

“Is this all because of her?” “All? What is that?” you asked, clearly mocking his voice. “You’re avoiding me, not wanting to hang with me and now you’re a bitch about it. I didn’t know you were so jealous.” He scoffed and walked away from you. 

“Enjoy that dumb trip!” You can’t believe this is how your friendship ends. You can’t believe that you’re still in love with that asshole.

*

And as pathetic as that sounds, every day of your university life you regretted saying no to Lando. That little crush didn’t go away. Your mom just couldn't stop showing you photos from his social media accounts (that you had blocked). And it was like he was haunting you. 

When you were walking through your hometown, you were thinking about the good memories you made. 

Men who wore cologne like his made you stop in your tracks. 

The conversation on that graduation day was like a song you couldn’t stop playing in your mind. 

You wished that the stars he drew on your skin were permanent tattoos.

You cursed him out for not being more convincing that day. You cursed out that girl for blinding you with jealousy. You didn’t see the truth because of the dark green haze.

He was everywhere, but still nowhere. You were sure you had developed hallucinations by now. 

And there wasn’t a night you weren’t thinking about what could’ve happened if you said yes. If wouldn’t cut him off. If you both just matured and stopped acting like nothing was wrong. If you started dating instead of tiptoeing around a label. 

Fuck. If only you weren’t dumb teenagers.

*

Back home for holidays. And everything reminded you of him. Even your house wasn’t safe. Your parents decided to visit your neighbors, and you swore you’d go crazy in that time. 

It’s hard being always correct. All the photos you hung up on the wall were with Lando and you didn’t know if to smile or cry. But, you decided to stop emotionally destroying yourself and went to the living room. You couldn't handle being in own room. That sounds crazy. Just as you got comfortable, the doorbell rang over the opening of your favorite TV show. 

Aren’t they home just too soon? Maybe they just forgot something. But as you opened the door you nearly got a heart attack. 

Lando.

“What are you doing here?” You asked, your voice soft like never before.

“You’re here. I can’t believe it.” He stammered.

“Of course, I’m here. Why are you so shocked?” you responded. It was like both of you were on thin ice. One bad word or move and you’ll both fall apart.

“I’ve been trying to apologize to you for so long, but you’re never here.” His voice trembled. 

“You’ve been waiting for me?” Your eyes were full of tears and a smile formed on your quaking lips.

“Of course, I always loved you.” 

[ilys00ga]

You are essentially the best fluff writer for yoongi at this point. I can't put into words how grateful I am for having access to such high quality sweet fluff with literallly no suggestive themes and little angst. I'm someone who hates angst and wearily go through warnings n shit and you are one of the few ppl who is safe to read hahaha. Do you have any similar fluff recommendations from other blogs ? Tysm and kisses xo

hello omg...! 🥹

thank u so much for your kind words. It made me soooooo happy, and I'm sorry I'm replying to this so late.

im so glad somebody is like me!! I found my people <33

I really, really, REALLY loveeee fluff sm. like hello? u can't go wrong with fluff, can u?? exactly. I also don't really fancy reading angst that much, but I discovered that I still like writing it sometimes, which is so weird lmao. but fluff is just... superior, indeed.

and as per your last request, how did u know that i was considering making my very own fic recs post?? 🤨 lol.

i actually haven't read anything lately... but in general, I'm a person who usually leans towards shorter one-shots/drabble and with the tag 'established relationship', rather than reading whole fics and all of that. so here are some of my recently fav fluffy fluff stuff for u to enjoy!

- flowers in your hair (I LOVEEEEE THIS SMMMMM)

- this super short but super cute thing omg (I'd eat up anything this user writes btw. go check their masterlist !!)

- dad!yoongi 😫🥺🥺

- this hand size comparing/difference headcanon thingie omygoddd

- this masterlist (this has different themes and genres tho! but I like so many of the fics in there omg)

- this one makes me wanna cry too, i love it soooo much..

- wishes and kisses

- basketball (this one's cute too).

[goldfades]

✮ 𝐰𝐡𝐨'𝐬 𝐣𝐮𝐝𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐚𝐦?, zegras' have more fun

♡ ─ summary | stass' new photo dump on instagram (plus imsg drama??)

♡ ─ warnings | nothing just some cussing, jack being a flirt and lukey being a simp LMAO

♡ ─ taglist | link to my taglist!

♡ ─ ev's notes | oooooo more drama???? again, PLSSSS SEND IN SOME THOUGHTS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! BEGGING ON MY HANDS AND KNEES PLEASE.

back to navigation back to AU masterlist

stasszegras ann arbor, michigan

Liked by trevorzegras, briesbagels, jackhughes and 10,013 more

stasszegras | live laugh love barcelona (sry jude bellingham) tagged: briesbagels, friend1, pchandler68, chloegrace333 octber 12th, 2022

View all 3,971 comments

briesbagels | is this a soft launch parker??

↳ pchandler98 no it is not.

↳ chloegrace333 oh okay...

↳ trevorzegras bro has absolutely 0 game HELP

↳ stasszegras why is bro copying me?? since when do u say HELP

↳ pchandler68 shut up trevor

umichwsoccer | thats our girl🫡

↳ stasszegras 😤

nolan_moyle | future manager supports barcelona!!!!!!!! (whatever the hell that means)

↳ stasszegras ur funny but no, also barcelona is a club

↳ nolan_moyle wdym club

↳ trevorzegras bros gotten hit too many times in the head by a puck

↳ stasszegras this is why im not managering the hockey team

jackhughes | whos jude bellingham??? why are you sorry????

↳ stasszegras sigh...

↳ trevorzegras its her husband... duh

↳ jackhughes UR MARRIED???

↳ briesbagels 🥴🥴

fan01 | can anyone tell me if jack and her are actually dating?

↳ fan02 i think everyone is just being weird af they're just friends

↳ fan03 i personally think shes dating luke cus it makes more sense

↳ fan01 help she wants the entire family

↳ fan02 can u blame her?????? 🤭🤭

lhughes_06 | photo creds for the last pic🤑

↳ pchandler68 BRUHHHHHHHHHH

↳ lhughes_06 its the rizzler guys 😌

↳ stasszegras FUCK NO HES NOT....... HES 5'8???

↳ jackhughes i'm 5'11 if that helps 🥰

↳ trevorzegras hey what does rizz have to do with height??? umm... 🥸

↳ lhughes_06 im 6'3 if that helps 😮‍💨😮‍💨

↳ stasszegras ... 🥰🥰 oh nothing, trev!!!

↳ briesbagels help 😶😶

↳ jackhughes ???????

avazegras | okay miss heartbreaker 😮‍💨😮‍💨 i see u

↳ trevorzegras hey whats that supposed to mean??

↳ griffinzegras hey i hold the title of heartbreaker of the family.... so this is kinda awkward...

↳ stasszegras STFU AVA UR NOT HELPING AT ALL😭😭😭

↳ trevorzegras did i miss a chapter???????

↳ lhughes_06 yea u did [deleted]

↳ griffinzegras ... damn 💀💀💀

iMessages

mini z ✊🏼💅🏻

hi soo why did u comment and then delete that???

luke 🥸🥸

wdym????

mini z ✊🏼💅🏻

luke u know what i mean, i saw the comment

luke 🥸🥸

i was just joking around but i thought it may come off weird so i deleted it

luke 🥸🥸

sorry, stass

mini z ✊🏼💅🏻

it's fine its just if u have a problem i'd rather u just text me then comment on my post 😭😭

luke 🥸🥸

noted

mini z ✊🏼💅🏻

its fine lukey, im sorry about the party if i came off to harsh or anything. i just miss our friendship before that stupid trip

luke 🥸🥸

no I'M sorry, i shouldn't keep bringing it up. and its back to normal, i promise 🫶🏼🫶🏼

mini z ✊🏼💅🏻

ur the best luke, thank you 🫡 and between us, ur my fav hughes rn read 11:37

mini z ✊🏼💅🏻

you screenshotted that didn't u

luke 🥸🥸

YUPPPPPP😗😗😇😇

-> make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated! <-

thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡