#like the way the world (or the only one she knows) works around her. but she also knows there isnt much they can do yk.

[holyblonded]

the m word | stargirl

pairings: alexia putellas x teen!reader

summary: 3 times you accidentally called alexia mom and the one time you planned it

warings: bad parents, flu

notes: this takes place a few months to a year or two after estrella joined the team

When you first moved up to the senior team, you had no idea what to expect. You were only fourteen, the youngest player by far, and all your friends (besides Jana and Bruna) were still in the academy. Your mother, on most days, was off doing God knows what, leaving you to navigate this new world on your own.

But something you never expected was how close you’d become with Alexia. From the moment she scouted you, she took you under her wing, guiding you through the chaos of professional football, especially at such a young age. She made sure you ate properly, did your homework, and kept you in line (for the most part) during training. She even gave you rides to and from practice, looking after you in ways no one else had in your life. Tonight was no different.

The team’s plane had just landed back in Barcelona, the clock inching past midnight. You were exhausted, curled up between Jana and Bruna, their heads resting on top of yours as the three of you dozed off in your seats. The steady hum of the plane’s engines had lulled you into a deep sleep, and you barely stirred when the seatbelt sign dinged, signaling it was time to disembark.

Alexia stretched and turned back to find the three of you completely knocked out. With a small shake of her head, she reached over, nudging Jana and Bruna awake. “Come on, we landed,” she said softly.

Jana groaned, rubbing her eyes as she sat up, while Bruna yawned, slowly blinking herself awake. But you didn’t move.

Alexia poked your arm. Nothing. She shook your shoulder. Still nothing.

“She’s not going to get up,” Bruna muttered sleepily.

Jana smirked. “You know what to do.”

Alexia sighed before glancing over at Jenni, who had been watching the whole scene unfold with amusement. “Jenni,” Alexia said, tilting her head toward you.

Jenni grinned. “Oh, I got this.”

Before you even knew what was happening, strong arms scooped you up, lifting you effortlessly from your seat. You stirred slightly, groaning, but instead of fighting it, you simply curled into Jenni’s shoulder, completely deadweight in her arms.

“She’s like a little koala,” Jenni teased, carrying you down the plane steps while the rest of the team laughed quietly.

“Try having to wake her up every day,” Alexia muttered, rolling her eyes as she followed behind.

Jenni carried you through the airport, through baggage claim, and all the way to the car without you waking up once. When they finally reached Alexia’s car, Jenni shifted you in her arms. “You’re heavier than you look, mona (monkey),” she grumbled, carefully maneuvering you into the backseat. You murmured something incoherent but didn’t wake up, your head slumping against the window.

The drive home was quiet, the exhaustion of the match settling into all of them. When they finally pulled up to your apartment, Alexia got out and walked up to the door, fishing your keys from your bag. She slipped one into the lock, but it didn’t turn.

Frowning, she tried again. Nothing.

Jenni, watching from the corner, raised a brow. “Everything okay?”

Alexia’s jaw tensed. “The keys aren’t working.”

Jenni frowned and walked closer, trying them herself. Still, the door wouldn’t budge.

“That’s weird,” she muttered, glancing over at Alexia.

Alexia nodded slowly. Something about this didn’t sit right with her, but she wasn’t going to push it now, not with you dead asleep in the backseat. “She can stay at mine tonight,” she said simply.

Jenni agreed, and soon, you were once again being carried, this time into Alexia’s apartment. While Jenni went to shower, Alexia brought you into the spare bedroom, pulling the covers back before carefully laying you down. You stirred slightly as she tucked the blanket around you, your eyes fluttering open just the slightest.

“Buenas noches, mami,” you mumbled sleepily, your voice barely above a whisper.

Alexia froze.

You didn’t even realize what you had said before you were already slipping back into sleep, your breathing evening out. Alexia stood there for a moment, completely speechless, watching as your face relaxed against the pillow.

She swallowed, something unfamiliar twisting in her chest, but she didn’t say anything.

Instead, she simply exhaled softly, reached out to brush a stray curl from your forehead, and whispered, “Buenas noches, Estrella.”

Then, without another word, she turned off the light and quietly shut the door behind her.

The night sky above you stretches endlessly, the stars scattered like tiny diamonds against the vast darkness. The crisp air carries the electric energy of the stadium, the thunderous roar of the crowd vibrating through your bones. Games like this— games that mattered, games that demanded everything from you, always sent an intoxicating rush of dopamine through your system.

Your pulse thrums in your ears as you take it all in, grounding yourself in the moment. You’ve been here before, but somehow, it always feels brand new. The magnitude of El Clásico never fades, never dulls. The rivalry is embedded in every touch of the ball, every challenge, every goal.

“You ready?” Mario asks, slinging an arm around your shoulders, her voice low but charged with anticipation.

You smirk, shaking out your shoulders. “I’m always ready.”

The first goal comes early, a beautiful sequence of passes that ends with you slipping between defenders, receiving a perfectly weighted ball from Alexia, and slotting it past Misa with the outside of your foot. The eruption of noise is deafening, your name bouncing off the walls of the stadium as you sprint toward the corner, fists clenched in triumph.

The second goal is a blur. Marta intercepts a wayward pass, Laia sends it down the flank, and Leila cuts it back for you at the top of the box. Without thinking, you strike it first time, curling it into the far post. Two-nil.

By the time the third opportunity presents itself, Madrid is desperate, pushing high up the pitch in a last-ditch effort to claw their way back. You see it before it even happens, one bad touch from their midfielder, a brief lapse in control. You pounce, intercepting the ball near the halfway line.

There’s no hesitation. Your eyes flick up, spotting Misa off her line, and your body moves instinctively. You pull your foot back and strike through the ball with perfect precision. Time seems to slow as the ball soars through the air, carrying all the way from midfield, past the scrambling keeper, and into the back of the net.

For a second, the stadium holds its breath. Then, an explosion of sound.

You even don’t think, you just run.

Pure, unfiltered euphoria surges through you as you sprint toward the bench, your legs burning but your heart flying. Alexia is the first person you see, her arms wide open, and you leap straight into them, wrapping your arms around her neck as she catches you effortlessly.

“Mami!” The word slips out in your excitement, a natural instinct, completely unnoticed by you as you bury your face in her shoulder.

Alexia squeezes you tight, pressing a hand to the back of your head. “Qué locura, Estrelleta,” she murmurs, laughter laced in her voice. “You’re unbelievable.”

Neither of you notice the way Mario’s brows shoot up, how Laia covers her mouth to stifle a laugh, how Leila exchanges a knowing glance with Marta. They don’t say a word, but the moment is filed away, stored for future teasing.

Right now, though, none of it matters.

Right now, you’ve just put three past Madrid. Right now, you’re weightless, wrapped in Alexia’s arms, the chants of your name filling the air. Right now, you are exactly where you belong.

The dim glow of the living room lamp barely illuminated the room, casting soft shadows on the walls. You were cocooned in a thick bundle of blankets, your limbs heavy, your body radiating unbearable heat, yet somehow you still shivered. Every breath felt like a monumental effort, your throat raw, your head pounding like someone had taken a sledgehammer to it.

“Jenni,” you croaked dramatically from your fortress of suffering. “Jenni, please come quick—I am dying.”

Jenni, who had been putting on her shoes by the door, let out a soft giggle as she grabbed her wallet. “I know, bebita,” she said, adjusting her jacket. “That’s why I’m going out to get medicine.”

“No,” you whined, reaching out a feeble, shaking hand like a character in a tragic play. “Don’t leave! It might be the last time you see me. Tell everyone I fought bravely.”

Jenni rolled her eyes, walking back over to you with an amused expression. She crouched beside the couch, brushing your sweaty hair off your forehead before pressing a kiss to it. “You’ll survive, drama queen,” she teased. “Try not to perish before I get back.”

You barely had the strength to glare at her before she slipped out the door, leaving you alone in your misery.

Somewhere in the apartment, a door creaked open. Heavy footsteps padded toward you, slow and groggy.

A shadow loomed over you before a voice, low and thick with sleep, broke through the haze of your fever.

“Estrella.”

You barely registered Alexia standing over you, her hair disheveled, wrapped in a loose hoodie and sweatpants. She blinked at you, squinting as if trying to process the scene before her.

“You’re awake,” you murmured weakly, blinking up at her with glassy eyes. “Mami, I don’t feel good.”

She frowned. “What?”

You waved a limp hand. “Never mind,” you sighed, turning your head dramatically. “I think I’m hallucinating.”

Alexia sighed, rubbing her temple. “You are not hallucinating.” She crouched beside you, pressing the back of her hand against your forehead. “Dios mío, you’re burning up.”

You nodded solemnly. “I am dying.”

“You’re not dying.”

You reached for her hand, gripping it weakly. “Promise me something.”

She raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“Take care of Eli when I’m gone.”

Alexia exhaled sharply through her nose, clearly trying to suppress a laugh. “You are not dying,” she repeated firmly before standing up. “Stay here.”

“Not like I have a choice,” you mumbled into your pillow, your body too exhausted to do anything but sink deeper into the couch.

A few minutes later, Alexia returned with a steaming mug in her hands. She sat on the edge of the coffee table, watching as you blinked sluggishly at her.

“Drink this.”

You wrinkled your nose. “What is it?”

“Tea.”

“What kind?”

“The kind that will make you feel better.”

You groaned. “That sounds fake.”

Alexia narrowed her eyes. “Estrella.”

You pouted but took the mug in your shaky hands. The first sip was bitter, but warmth spread through your throat, soothing the raw scratchiness. You took another sip, then another.

“Good girl,” Alexia murmured, reaching out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

When you finished, she took the mug from you, setting it aside before you suddenly grabbed her wrist, stopping her from moving away.

“Stay,” you murmured.

“Estrella—”

“Please,” you mumbled, your fever-dazed brain barely processing anything beyond the need for comfort. “Lay with me.”

Alexia hesitated for a moment before sighing and carefully maneuvering herself onto the couch beside you. You immediately curled into her, burying your face into her hoodie, her warmth soothing in a way nothing else was.

“Mami? Thank you,” you mumbled sleepily.

Alexia stiffened, but when you didn’t say anything else, when your breathing evened out and your grip on her hoodie loosened she simply exhaled, letting it go.

She pulled the blanket tighter around you, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head.

“Descansa, Estrellita,” she whispered.

And for the first time that night, your fevered mind let you sleep.

You adjusted the top of your suit jacket anxiously, smoothing out invisible wrinkles as you sat between Jenni and Alexia. Your fingers tapped against your thigh in a restless rhythm, your heart pounding harder than it ever had before a game. The room was filled with the biggest names in football, the air thick with anticipation as the ceremony reached its climax.

On stage, Kylian Mbappé held the envelope in his hands, the golden Ballon d’Or trophy gleaming beside him. The entire room seemed to hold its breath as he slid his finger beneath the envelope’s flap, carefully pulling out the slip of paper inside.

“The Ballon d’Or goes to…” He paused, glancing up with a knowing smile before announcing, “Alexia Putellas!”

The room erupted into applause, cheers echoing off the grand hall’s walls. Jenni let out a celebratory whoop beside you, clapping wildly. You turned to Alexia, but she was frozen for a second, processing the moment. Then, she exhaled sharply, a bright smile breaking across her face as she stood.

You were on your feet before you even realized it, clapping so hard your palms started to sting. As Alexia made her way toward the stage, she turned slightly, meeting your eyes for the briefest moment, and you saw it, the unguarded emotion, the disbelief, the sheer joy.

She took the trophy with steady hands, then approached the microphone. The applause quieted as she scanned the crowd, her expression softening as she took a breath.

“I don’t even know where to begin,” she said, her voice steady yet full of emotion. “First, I want to thank my teammates, my coaches, and everyone at FC Barcelona. This award is not just mine—it belongs to every single person who has supported me, pushed me, and helped me become the player I am today.”

She paused for a moment, glancing down at the trophy, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Football has given me so much, but more than the trophies, more than the accolades, the most important thing it has given me is family.”

Your breath caught in your throat as her gaze found yours.

“To my teammates, my friends, to those who have stood by me no matter what, I love you all,” she continued. “But there’s one person I want to mention specifically.”

You stiffened slightly as she smiled directly at you.

“Estrella,” she said, voice warm, affectionate. “From the moment you walked into our team, you changed everything. You are a force of nature, a player unlike any other, but beyond that, you are one of the strongest, bravest people I have ever met. Watching you grow, on and off the pitch, has been an honor. And I want you to know that no matter what, no matter where football takes you, no matter how many goals you score or trophies you win, you will always have a home with me.”

Your throat felt tight. The room clapped again, but all you could do was sit there, gripping the arms of your chair, your chest aching with something indescribable.

Alexia wrapped up her speech, thanking her family, her late father, and everyone who had been part of her journey. Then, with one last glance at you, she stepped off the stage, the trophy clutched tightly in her hands.

The rest of the ceremony passed in a blur. You weren’t paying attention to the other winners or the speeches, you were waiting. The moment the event concluded, you weaved through the crowd, searching for her.

And then you saw her. She was standing off to the side, trophy still in her hands, talking to a few journalists. But as if sensing your presence, she turned and the moment she saw you, her face lit up.

Without thinking, without hesitation, you ran toward her, closing the distance between you in seconds. She barely had time to react before you jumped into her arms, wrapping yourself around her. She stumbled back slightly but caught you with ease, laughing as she held you close.

You buried your face in her shoulder, inhaling deeply before pulling back just enough to look at her.

“I’m proud of you, Mami,” you said, voice quiet but firm.

It wasn’t an accident. It wasn’t a slip of the tongue. It was deliberate, intentional.

Alexia’s breath hitched. Her eyes widened slightly, her grip on you tightening. She smiled, something soft and unbearably fond in her expression as she rested her forehead against yours.

“Gracias, mi niña,” she whispered.

And for once, you didn’t mind the tears pricking at your eyes. Because for the first time in a long time, you felt completely, undeniably at home.

[s1rawb3rry]

Cupid’s arrow has struck… the wrong target!

Oh cupid… do you love me, or do you love me not?

synopsis: As a cupid, Y/N's job has always been to make people fall in love– that has been her task for centuries. However, everything goes horribly wrong when Jake accidentally locks eyes with her instead of his intended match. Now, she's stuck with a hopelessly in-love Jake, following her around like a lovesick puppy. The worst part? Cupids aren’t allowed to fall in love…

word count: 10.3k

warnings: fluff fluff fluff, no smut, maybe a little suggestive, absolutely smitten and hopelessly in love jake, he fell first and fell harder, acts of service jake, jake is somewhat yn's boss, magic (???)

genres: office au, cupid au, rom-com, slow burn

pairing: enhypen Jake x reader

featuring: Chungha

a/n: oh my god this took FOREVER but im so glad its done im so happy with it hehe

Taglist: @heestoleurgirl @stariekis @jaehoodies @morganaawriterr @luvashli@kireistrawberryjayla @annovaz @bambieheeseunglee @firstclassjaylee @flowerwinds @veilstqr(comment if you want me to add / remove you from the list <3)

⌯⌯⌯⌯⌯⌯⌯⌯⌯⌯⌯⌯⌯⌯⌯⌯⌯⌯⌯⌯⌯⌯⌯⌯⌯⌯⌯⌯⌯⌯⌯⌯⌯⌯⌯⌯⌯⌯⌯⌯⌯⌯⌯⌯⌯

Cupids don’t wear halos and wings, or float around on fluffy clouds. At least, not anymore. We live among humans, blending in seamlessly, living for the purpose of matchmaking. Year round, we work behind the scenes of every soulmate pairing. This has been my classified, top secret occupation in the world for centuries, that I wouldn't trade for anything. When I'm off the clock, I work at a dull office job– that I love!– but it's boring enough to allow me to keep up with my much more important tasks. 

Seeing my boss slowly making his way near my desk, I planted my hands on my keyboard and started to type away, pretending to be fully immersed in the spreadsheets that are on my computers. In actuality, my mind was completely preoccupied, I kept eyeing the thin paper folder with the name “J.S.” on it. I was assigned my last assignment before my much-needed “cupid break”. The thought of rest made me giddy enough to move my hips in my office chair and hum an off tune harmony. 

“What's the matter with you?” Chungha asked once she noticed my movement, her desk in front of mine. I smiled like a kid on christmas, well really rest did feel like christmas to me, “i got my final assignment before my break. I just have to find this Jake Sim.” I whispered to her. She smiled, sharing my excitement. Chungha has been one of my, if not the, closest friends for years. She is the person who knows everything about me, she knows me like the back of her hand. She is the one and only person that I could ever trust with this secret job. 

“I swear I heard that name not too long ago… “ she said, her eyebrows furrowed in concentration, trying to remember. I jump in my seat, lean forward to reach her desk and hold her hand in mine, “I beg you, tell me who he is so I can go into this break early.” I whisper-yelled, misery clear in my voice.

As she was laughing at my desperation, the clear glass office door swung open with an exaggerated creak. Your boss strides in like a man who will make the biggest announcement of the decade, again. He makes this grade entry, makes you feel like he will say something important, only for you to find out it's absolutely nothing. His dramatic flair is only rivaled by his complete lack of self-awareness. I suppress an eye roll and stare back at my spreadsheets, these seem way more interesting in fact. 

“Team!” he calls out, his voice booming as he stands at the front of the office room, making a couple chairs turn around and make multiple people stop talking and clicking their keyboards. “I’d like you all to meet your new supervisor for the upcoming project I already told you about–” he told us about a new project? – “This is Jake Sim, our new project manager. So he will only be here for a couple of months until the deal with the other company is sealed.”

My eyes widened and my ears perked up when I heard that name. I glanced at Chugha who was already looking at me with that same bulging eyes. There he is– Jake, my new assignment. He stood tall in the sharp lines of his suit, his dark hair neatly swept back, and his dark eyes carrying a quiet intensity. As the boss continued talking, he gave the group a friendly but reserved smile. As his eyes were scanning the room, as if he's trying to memorise our faces. I tried to follow his gaze to get his perspective on my colleagues. Maybe I can find his pair in the office?

As my eyes look back at him, our eyes lock. He held it for a second before he gave me another polite smile. I returned the smile fast enough before he continued his scan of the room. I perch up on my seat when I notice Jake staring for longer than usual at the other side. My eyes land on a coworker, Mira. Both of them also exchange a polite smile. 

As the boss continued to babble about the new project, that familiar feeling comes to me: when an idea of a couple clicks in my mind. Jake and Mira, they seem perfect together, well on paper they do. I open my Jake’s paper file and quickly read the notes written on him, trying to confirm to myself that he is a perfect match for Mira. Warm personality. Charismatic. Loyal. Energetic… Oh, it’s spot on.

“Alright team, that's all for today. You can get back to your work.” he wrapped up his speech, which dragged on longer than needed, motioned to Jake to follow him. Jake smiled and nodded his head at us one last time before turning his back on us. I clicked my pen and started scribbling some notes about Mira in Jake’s file. I can not waste time on a case like this. I can get in and out quickly out of it, sending them on their merry way. I beamed with excitement, unwrapping a chocolate covered almond from my drawer and popping it in my mouth.

“I remember now where I heard his name,” Chungha whispered to me. I looked up from my notes, paying my attention back to her. “He has been going to the café I always go to after work. I heard the barista always calling his name, that's why it's familiar.” 

“Wait, that's perfect,” I said as the idea sparked in my mind, “if we can get Mira to come with us to the café, I can absolutely do the job there.” I continued with Chungha nodding at me. “Leave it to me, I will ask her.” she said, getting up from her office chair. I watched as she walked over to Mira, starting up a conversation with her. A moment later, her head turns to me, smiling, I smile back and do a little wave to her. 

I pull my eyes from her, when I notice the light of the office in front of us turn on. That office is almost always empty, so my surprise grew when I saw Jake again, standing at the doorstep with a small moving box. He walked over to the desk and placed the box on it. Oh that's his office now. Well, him being right across from us just made my job a whole lot easier. I can monitor the progress of my work firsthand, almost front-row seat to a movie I directed.  

♥︎

As the workday wrapped up, the three of us settled on a table in the café, the scent of bitter roasted coffee beans filled the air, making me wrinkle my nose each time the barista made a new espresso. Mira and Chungha were chattering up a storm, drinking their coffee orders while I stirred my strawberry milkshake’s stray absentmindedly, barely registering anything that is being said. My focus was set on the door, waiting for him, in any minute, to come in. Every second that passes is a second closer to my break. I take a sip of my drink, trying to suppress my excitement.

Yet, nature called at the worst moment, “I'll be right back, I need to use the restroom,” I said, sliding out of my seat and leaving my milkshake barely touched. They nod at me before returning to their conversation. 

As I step out a few minutes later, wiping my hands on a paper towel, I pause just outside the restroom door. As if it’s a twist from fate, I find myself standing in a perfect spot to have the perfect shot. Jake was standing, waiting for his coffee, not noticing me. His position is exactly where I need him, flawlessly aligned with Mira. Excitement ran through me, It’s almost too perfect. 

Almost there… One clean shot– quick and easy.

Letting my muscle memory instinctively reach for a cupid arrow, I take a steady breath and discreetly wind up my arrow. My heart bubbles in my chest in anticipation. Just as I’m about to let the arrow fly…

“Hey, did you notice that–” Chungha said, coming from behind me, disturbing the silence.

I gasped, her sudden loud voice making me jump forward and making my heart leap to my throat. My hand jerks, my aim going completely rogue, accidentally hitting Jake. I gasped again, “oh my god, no!” panic sets in my bones as I walk forward to try to recover the arrow.  Before I can even process the rest, my foot catches on a stray chair leg making my world tilt. 

I closed my eyes, bracing my fall before I felt two tight arms around me, steadying me effortlessly. When air got back to my lungs, I opened my eyes to find Jake's face inches away from mine. Oh dear god, please no… “I’m so sorry,” I said, the words left out of my mouth with my mind running much faster. Am I sorry that I fell or that I accidentally struck him? This was not supposed to happen. He was supposed to see Mira, not me. 

His usual polite warmth in his expression softens into something more tender, something deeper. His brows furrow just a little, as if he's suddenly aware of a feeling—a feeling that stirs something in him undeniable. The more I look at his eyes, the more my plan crumbles.

“Are you okay?” Jake asks, his voice low and surprisingly gentle, his gaze lingering a little too long. His grip on me is still tight, my heart and stomach felt twisted in knots, as if they were bound together. This doesn’t feel like love—it feels more like alarms blaring in my mind.

Chungha, my traitor of a best friend, noticed the mistake she just made. Her eyes darted between us, her face painted with realization. I could see her from the side of my eyes trying to come up with a last-minute fallback plan.

“No way!” she exclaimed almost cartoonishly with an exaggerated gasp, practically lunged forward tugging me out of his grip with force, “I—uh—I forgot something at the office! Come on, let’s go!” she lied, turning her heel to the opposite side of the cafe, with my heels right behind her. With my heart still pounding, I slapped a 20 dollar bill on our table, grabbed my coat and pushed both Mira and Chungha out of the café. I could feel his piercing gaze on me as we were shuffling out of the café. He was still looking at me as I was walking away—like I was the center of his universe. 

♥︎

Later that night, I stood in my dimly lit kitchen, surrounded by flour, sugar and butter. My stand mixer whirring loudly with the warm smell of cookies coming from my oven. My hands trembled as I measured out the flour, my mind still reeling from everything that had just happened. I turned off the mixer, slowly adding the flour.

Chungha leaned against the kitchen counter, looking in the oven to see the cookies. Then her eyes landed on the already freshly baked cookies on the counter, still warm. She watched my unsteady movement with a confused expression, her eyes held concern. “This is the batch number…?” she asks, leaving the question for me to finish.  

I exhaled a shaky breath, trying to steady myself and my hands. “Baking calms me down,” I muttered, my voice tense, matching how my muscles felt, “besides, it’s the only thing that doesn’t make my head feel like it’s about to explode.”

“I’m sorry…” she said quietly after a moment passed, her voice full of guilt, referring back to what happened in the café. I sighed in defeat, putting down the mixing bowl. I gave her a weak but genuine smile, “it's not your fault. I'm the one who was impatient,” I said before going back to my bowl, “I never rushed the process of pairing a couple, look where that got me…"I trailed off, scraping the side of the bowl a little too roughly. 

She stayed silent, looking at me, waiting for me to actually explode. My frustration bubbled up again when I dropped my spoon on the floor, even dropping spoons is putting me on edge. I pinched the bridge of my nose and took a deep breath to ground myself, “this whole situation is too risky,” I started once Chungha picked up my spoon and started washing it. 

“Men liked me before, but none were under the influence of a Cupid’s arrow. It's just too strong. If this goes wrong, if I fall in love, I will systematically lose my job. I love my job, you know that.” I said, pouring out what's in my heart.

Chungha was silent, listening to me, “So… what now?” she asked, uncertainty laced her voice.

I exhaled a shaky breath, turning back to my mixing bowl, “I have one week. A week before the arrow’s effect turns into true feelings.” I said, grabbing a new, clean mixing spoon, not sure if I was trying to focus on the dough or just distract myself from my spiraling thoughts. My hands moved automatically, though my mind raced, “I have a week before this turns into a full-on disaster. If I don’t reverse the arrow in time.”

“That’s not a lot of time.” Chungha commented, taking a cookie. “You're not helping, Chungie,” I grumbled. She laughed, biting into a cookie, “don’t worry, we’re in this mess together.” she said, her hands found my tense shoulders, reassuring me. I just nodded, leaning into her. 

I began to bake again, the nervous energy inside me didn’t dissipate. There was no time to waste. I couldn’t let him genuinely fall in love with me. Not when everything I’d worked for hung in the balance. My hands shook slightly as I carefully scooped the cookie dough onto the tray. I close my eyes for a second. 

Focus. One week. I can reverse the arrow’s effect. I have to reverse it. 

♥︎ DAY 1 ♥︎

I strolled into the office with my heels clicking behind me. I readjusted my purse on my shoulder when I noticed a pink drink sitting beside my keyboard. Condensation beads down the plastic cup, the whipped cream still holding its shape—fresh. 

“You got me a milkshake?” I gasped in awe, turning to Chungha. She appeared from behind her screen, brows knitted together, “I got you a milkshake?” she echoed my question, leaning to the side to see what I’m talking about. 

I blink at her as if she just sprouted another head. "Yes, this!" I said, looking back at the milkshake, squinting at a small sticky note attached to the side of it. I carefully unstick it from the drink, holding it like it’s evidence in a crime scene. 

forgive me for making you leave early yesterday… - Jake

I closed my eyes hoping, wishing, the earth would open up and swallow me. Of course it was him. Chunghun leaned forward to catch the note, squinting. A smile grew on her face, “okay, you gotta admit that this is cute.” I shoot her a glare, “I need to thank him.” I said, placing my purse on my desk and grabbing the milkshake. Chungha’s grin widened at my announcement, “you caused this.” I reminded her playfully before leaving.

Each step I took toward his glass-walled office feels oddly heavy. It’s just a thank-you. Nothing more, not a big deal. Knocking the door twice made Jake turn around. His eyes brightened when he saw me, just like a puppy who was told they will go on a walk.

“Hello, sir,” I greeted, the milkshake suddenly felt a little too heavy in my hands. 

"Good morning," he says, a smile full of warmth and admiration spread across his face. Oh, he got it bad…

I held up the milkshake, "Thanks for this. You really didn’t have to." I said, returning the smile sheepishly. 

His eyes glowed with adoration, "Consider it an apology. Hope I got the right flavor?" he said, motioning to the milkshake. I should be the one apologising.

Then it dawned on me, he did remember the flavor… "Yeah," I say, my voice softer than I mean it to be. "You did."

He opened his mouth to say something, but a sudden interruption from outside the office stopped him, “Team!” our boss shouted before his voice became muffled to me. Slightly jolting, I gave Jake an apologetic look, “I must go. Thank you again for the milkshake, sir.” I said, watching him walking towards me. 

“Jake,” he said, as if he’s correcting me. His gaze flickering between my eyes.

I stared blankly at him, “I’m sorry?” 

“Please, call me Jake.” 

♥︎

Avoiding him was proven to be impossible. It started off small: he held the elevator door open for me even when I was still ten steps away, he would offer to buy me anything and everything the cafeteria offered, even suggesting ordering something. But now it was the worst situation. We had a meeting before we could leave for the day, something about that project the boss keeps fussing about. Focusing, however, was beyond me.

Between Jake sitting beside me and the lack of sleep last night, my brain was running on fumes. The anxiety of this whole situation tangled itself around me, and that damn milkshake moment kept playing in my head like a broken record. I blinked hard, trying to fight off the weight of exhaustion dragging my eyelids down. My notes in front of me blurred together. The voices in the room became distant, background noise to the quiet battle I was losing against sleep. 

A small piece of folded paper appeared on the table in front of  me. From the corner of my eye, I saw Jake's hand retreating back to his side. I tried to decipher his face from the position i was in, but his expression was unreadable. Carefully, without trying to pull attention towards us, I unfolded the note. 

Are you feeling okay?

I stared at his handwriting in black ink, oddly neat, like he had taken his time. I reached for my own red pen, scribbling down how I just didn't sleep well last night. I refolded the paper, sliding it back to him. A few seconds later, his response appeared in front of me.

Close your eyes. I can cover for you.

I almost snorted, exhaustion making everything funny now. What is he even talking about? Hesitating only for a moment, I grabbed my pen and scribbled back something. I straighten my back, trying to wake myself up. Again, his response popped up in front of me. 

Trust me on this one. No one will notice.

I frowned in confusion, but before I could decide on how to respond, he subtly tilted his body, his broad shoulders blocking me from view. All I could see was his back and how everyone else was listening to the meeting. Slowly, undeniable fatigue took over me, making me shut my eyes. 

♥︎

“Hey… Wake up.” 

A hand shook my shoulder gently,  pulling me from the depths of my nap. I stirred, my mind still heavy with exhaustion, before I finally blinked my way back into consciousness. Once my vision focused, I found Chungha standing beside me, casually packing my notepad and pens into my purse. 

“Meeting’s over,” she announced, tilting her head. “I was this close to tucking you in and leaving you here." she laughed, putting my purse on my lap. I groaned, stretching out my arms as I forced myself upright. My body still felt sluggish, my brain foggy from sleep. The conference room was empty now—everyone was gone.

 “Now, come on, let’s go eat something. I’m starving…” she grumbled, heading towards the door. As I stood up and slung my purse over my shoulder, I slipped my hands into my coat pockets out of habit. The sleepiness fog vanished the moment I felt a piece of paper already in my pocket. I pulled it out only to find very similar handwriting in black ink.

Didn’t have the heart to wake you up.

It wasn’t signed, but it didn’t need to be. 

♥︎DAY 3 ♥︎

I had spent the last two days trying every trick, every strategy, everything and anything in my power to undo this ridiculous mistake. Yet, every desperate attempt led me to a dead end. It was completely hopeless. 

I tried acting uninterested, distant, cold, downright dismissive towards him. Jake would greet me every morning, warm smiles and bright eyes.  It took every ounce of willpower not to match his puppy-like energy, to keep my response flat and indifferent. "Morning," I’d say, voice devoid of emotion. But no matter how lifeless I sounded, his grin never wavered. 

I also attempted to make him lose hope by acting like I have a ‘secret office admirer’, Chungha’s idea. We thought, maybe, this would make him give up on me.

“Are you sure this will work?” I whispered, watching her place a vase of flowers– that she picked– onto my desk. She shrugged at me as we eye the soft yellow and white rose bouquet with a small note. It looks legitimate, at least in my eyes. I sighed as I popped a chocolate covered almond in my mouth.

When I felt Jake’s presence coming closer, I started acting as if I just noticed the bouquet, putting on a full play in front of Chungha. His steps slowed as he passed my desk a few steps away, watching me pull out the note that was with the roses. I made sure to read out the note in a loud voice, I cleared my voice, "To the most beautiful woman in the office. I hope these flowers bring you as much joy as your smile brings me, your secret admirer." I read, acting surprised while turning to Chungha, “that is adorable.” she played along, smiling.

His chuckling made me turn my head towards him, “didn’t know there were secret admirers in this office…” he muttered, hands in his pants pockets, his tone dripping with amusement. I glanced at Chungha who’s now completely turned away from us, speaking to another colleague. 

He bent down his head a little to read the note in my hand, his cologne was woody and intoxicating. I could see his slicked back, soft, black strands. His closeness made a fluttering warmth spread through my chest. “What’s funny is that they call themselves an admirer…” he started, his voice snapping me back to reality, “... yet they got your favorite color wrong.” he said, eyeing my outfit, my accessories, my desk decorations– all pink. He looked at me one last time in the eyes before turning his heels, leaving my heart into a wild, nervous rhythm and warmth rising to my face. 

That was not the intended effect, and not on the right person.

Desperate times called for unflattering, repulsive measures. I was standing next to the vending machine after buying myself a Coke. Jake and a couple other colleagues were standing on the other side, chatting away. Perfect position. 

I took a long, fast and exaggerated sip of Coke, stood for a moment when I felt the carbonation bubble up in my chest. I eyed Chungha who was on her phone, slowly sipping her coffee. 

Then, it erupted like a thunderstorm. a loud, unexpected burp that could’ve registered on the Richter scale. Chungha choked on her coffee, the room fell silent, eyes were on me. I stood there, waiting. Surely, this would do it. No one finds that attractive.

Jake burst into laughter, his eyes glistening with adoration, “Impressive," he said, smiling and nodding before turning back to his conversation.

I turned back to Chungha, my jaw to the floor, “oh he didn’t find that disgusting. Quite the opposite.” she whispered to me, smiling in amusement, “I want to throw my Coke at him.”

I told myself that the next time he compliments me, i would be ready to shut it down. I was standing next to the printer, waiting for it to finish printing a paper that the Boss asked me to finalise. Jake passed by me, his eyes shimmered with light when he noticed me. "You look nice today." he said, stopping right dead in his tracks. 

Bingo. I smiled sweetly, itching to put on another play. "Oh, thanks! I haven’t washed my hair in three days." I beamed, brushing my hair with my hands. A normal person would recoil. A sane person would be appalled. But him?

"Still looks stunning," he said easily, tilting his head. "What’s your secret?"

I wanted to scream. Who gave him permission to be this… tantalizing? 

If I couldn’t drive him away with disgust, maybe I could with annoyance, if I just bother him enough to make him lose interest. I thought about barging into his office every hour or so, each time asking for something different but completely useless. I thought that if I just got under his skin, he would get tired of seeing me. I already went in, asking for a stapler, even though both him and I know I have one on my desk. Yet he gave me his without hesitation.

Half an hour later, I stood in front of his office door again, knocking as hard as I could, making sure my knocking was irritable to listen to. I opened the door after I heard a faint ‘come in’ from the other side.

I walked into his office as if I owned it. "What are you working on?" I asked him, as if he's not my higher up and could fire me. He looked up from his laptop, amused. "Something very important," he replied, still smiling.

Each time I left, I felt a little more defeated. Twenty minutes later, I was back at his office. "Still working on something important?" I asked. Oh my god please, any reaction.

This time, he just laughed and shook his head. "You tell me. You seem very interested." he grinned, his arm propped up with his head resting in his hand. I stared at him, searching for a flicker of frustration, anything to indicate he was growing tired of this. But no, he looked at me like I was the one who painted the sky.

Then, I decided to really test how far I could push him. “Hey… uhh…” I squinted at him, tapping my forehead as if I’m really trying to remember something, “What was your name again?” I asked, trying to act casual, pulling out some chocolate covered almonds from my pockets and popping them in my mouth. This reverse the arrow mission will actually get me fired.

He raised an eyebrow, but there was no sign of irritation, only humor. Jake let out a soft laugh, shaking his head in return. Slowly, he pointed to his nameplate that’s on his desk. “Jake Sim,” he said, dragging out his name with a knowing smile.

I stared at him for a second. Was he really going to play along with this? Did he seriously not mind being the target of my ridiculous antics?

♥︎ DAY 5 ♥︎

I was in front of my computer’s screen, the room was filled with the sounds of keyboards clicking and telephones ringing. Focusing on any type of work was impossible, all I could think about was him. I thought to myself that I should still try to set him up with someone else, Just get him interested in someone. I leaned back into my chair, my gaze following Jake who was at the water cooler. He was standing casually, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up just enough to show off his forearms. The way he moved—effortless, composed, yet somehow magnetic—was enough to make my thoughts spin out of control.

Before I could talk myself out of it, I flew up from my chair and headed towards his direction. “Hello sir,” I said, politely. Oh suddenly I remembered what manners are…

 He turned around his signature warm smile appearing the moment our eyes met. “Hey,” he replied, voice as smooth as ever. “Need a refill too?”

“Yeah, just a little,” I replied, but before I could move, he already took another cup. After he filled the other cup, he handed it to me. “Thank you, sir.” 

He huffed a laugh, “you know, the ‘sir’ ages me by a lot.”

“Right, I’m sorry. I forgot.” I said with a soft laugh.

We both stood there, side by side, the silence almost comfortable but the tension between us thickening. Then I broke the silence, “You know, don’t you think Mira is cute?” I asked, trying to sound natural as I fiddled with my paper cup filled with water. “I mean, she’s very elegant. Charming. Professional as well, don’t you think?”

Jake nodded, listening intently, but I noticed him drifting his gaze lower. I froze, my breath catching as I saw his fingers carefully adjust the small cupid bow-and-arrow pendant on my necklace that had somehow gotten tangled. His touch was so gentle, almost like he was afraid to hurt it—or maybe afraid to hurt me. My heart skipped a beat as he carefully set it back in place, and for a moment, everything seemed to slow.

His focus was still on me, his eyes lingered on mine for a heartbeat longer than I expected. And when he spoke, his voice was so sincere, it made my chest tighten. “She’s okay,” he shrugged, “but she’s not what I’m looking for.” His gaze never wavered, locking with mine as if trying to make sure I understood every word, every feeling behind them.

♥︎

Later that day, I went to the restroom before heading home for the day. As I was walking towards my desk, I noticed a couple familiar candy wrappers on my desk with a sticky note next to them. They were my chocolate covered almonds, the same brand even. I pulled the sticky note and stared at the neat handwriting, the words so simple, but they made my heart flutter more than it should have. 

It simply read, enjoy. Again, not signed. 

My fingers lingered over the edges of the paper, tracing the strokes of his pen. I stuffed the sticky note into the drawer of my desk, trying to ignore the strange feeling in my chest. But even with it hidden away, the flutter in my chest didn’t go away. If anything, it only grew stronger. I wasn’t supposed to feel this way. I couldn’t let myself feel this way.

♥︎ DAY 7 ♥︎

It was almost the end of Monday, and I felt completely defeated. None of the tricks had worked. Not the cold, distant act, not the jealousy plan, not even trying to be completely gross—nothing. Every strategy I tried to reverse the effects of that damn arrow had failed. It was like Jake just couldn’t be swayed. I was beyond tired, drained in every way, and honestly, I hadn’t even seen Jake all day. That should’ve been a relief, but instead, it felt like something was missing. Every time I passed his office, there was a strange ache in my chest.

By the time the clock finally struck five, I gathered my things, shoved them into my bag, and walked out of my office. Today was the last day to reverse the effect, I’m seriously fucked. 

As soon as I stepped outside, the sky opened up, and rain poured down in sheets. The cold wind cut through my jacket, and my already exhausted mind screamed at me to just hurry up and get home. Groaning, I fumbled with my purse, mentally preparing myself for the walk home. 

“don’t tell me you're walking home in this.” a voice called out from behind me, cutting through the sound of the rain.

I turned around, I saw Jake with his bag in one hand and an umbrella in another. His hair was slightly messy, but still looking incredibly soft. His blazer was draped over his arm, leaving him in his button down white shirt. I forced a laughed, “"It’s fine. I don’t live that far," I said, trying to downplay how miserable I felt. "Really, it’ll just take a minute."

His eyes told me didn’t seem convinced, though. “Let me give you a ride home,” he offered in a heartbeat, but I quickly shook my head. “I’m fine, sir. Really, I—”

Before I could finish my sentence, he interrupted, pulling off his jacket and holding it out to me. "Take my jacket at least," he insisted. As I hesitated to say no, he held up his blazer in front of me, the insides of the blazer facing me. I sighed in defeat– more like too exhausted to argue– and slid my arms into it while he held it for me. As I was fixing the collar, he gently pulled my hair out from underneath the blazer. His fingers traced my neck, leaving hot trails behind. I turned around to see strands of hair falling on his forehead. 

"Here, take this too. You will catch a cold." he muttered, handing me his black umbrella. “Thank you, really…” I said, flustered by the gesture. He flashed a warm smile, “anytime,” he said, his voice soft and sincere.

without another word, he turned and ran toward his car, the rain pelting his back. As he reached his car, he paused and turned to wave at me. I watched him, feeling an unexpected warmth spread through me. He looked like a soaked puppy—wet, tousled, and far too endearing for his own good. It made my heart give a little thump.

"See you tomorrow!" he shouted, his voice muffled by the rain.

I waved back, an involuntary smile tugging at my lips. As I watched him get into his car and drive off, I had accepted the fact that he was in love with me. But that does not mean I will fall for him. Ever. 

Pulling the jacket tighter around me, the weight of his gesture still warms me. As I was walking in the opposite direction towards my apartment, I instinctively reached out for my phone and put my hands in his blazer’s pockets thinking it was mine. I frowned as I felt small wrapped spheres in the pocket. Pulling it out, I found a familiar sight: my chocolate almonds.

I let out a quiet laugh, shaking my head, despite the growing flutter in my chest. That idiot really was hopeless.

♥︎

A few weeks have passed after the arrow’s effect has indefinitely settled in. My cupid duties have been on pause for a while, but not the office job. Our Boss kept on giving me– and it seemed like it was only me– many different tasks to finish for this upcoming project that forced me to stay late, after my usual office hours. 

The office was nearly empty. The usual hum of ringing phones and clicking keyboards had long since faded, leaving only the soft buzz of overhead lights. I leaned in my office chair with a sigh, rubbing my burning eyes from my screen. My documents were scattered around, words blurring together and losing their meaning. 

Despite all my attempts, my mind circles back to Jake. Guilt was eating me alive as I felt like I ruined his life, his love life. He was meant to fall in love with someone who can be with him, someone whose world aligned with his own. The guilt was so unbearable that I started avoiding him. I would turn to the opposite way whenever I sense he's nearby, I would be late for meetings on purpose so I could sit away from him, I would take the stairs so I don’t cross pathways with him in the elevator, I would make it seem like i get an important phone call each time I see him coming my way. I could see that it hurt him, but my remorse was overwhelming. Slowly but surely, his own attempts to speak to me reduced.

Even though his office wasn’t in my line of vision, I could sense his gaze on me from time to time. He was also still in his office, only his desk lamp was on, with him clicking away, very concentrated on his own computer. Whenever I stayed late at the office, Jake seemed to always be there too, leaving only us on our floor. He would never say anything to me, he would even step inside the shared workspace. He would stay in his office, but I could feel his presence from across the office. 

My eyes scanned over to the clock, 1:12 am. I took a deep breath and returned back to my screen. The sound of a food creaking open made me stop reading a sentence midway. I didn’t need to look up to know who it was. His footsteps were slow, but purposeful as he made his way to my desk.

“You’re working way too hard.” Jake’s voice was softer than she expected, like he was choosing his words carefully, with his hands in his pockets. I couldn’t help but let out a breathy laugh. Before I could shut him down, he continued, “Do Cupids get paid overtime as well?”

My grip on my mouse tightened, my heart stilled. For a split second, I thought I misheard him. Surely the lack of sleep made me a little delirious. My eyes looked up at him before I could stop them, Jake had this knowing expression.

My stomach twisted in knots, my head is spinning, “I think you should head home, sir.” I dismissed, my eyes locking back to my screen with a thumping heart. God please tell me I’m imagining this…

He glanced down at the scattered notes on my desk before his gaze flickered back to me, “It’s funny, isn’t it?” Jake said, his smile not reaching his eyes, “You can make people fall in love… but you don’t know what to do when it happens to you.”

I swallowed hard, trying to stay still, unreadable even though every nerve in my body was on high alert. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Jake raised a brow. “Really? You have no clue what I’m talking about?”

 “No clue.”

He let out a quiet exhale, his expression unreadable. A moment has passed of complete silence, I was praying that the earth’s crust would crack open and swallow me. 

“At first, I just had a feeling that something was up...” His voice wasn’t accusing or even angry, just observant. “Miss. Chungha slipped up and said something about how you ‘messed up’ the matchmaking…” the more he spoke, the more my chest tightened itself on my pounding heart. 

“And then,” he continued, watching her carefully, “I saw your open files on your desk a couple of times, with the names of couples you helped.” I winced, I should’ve been more careful.  

The fragile rawness of my soul felt like it was on open display. It felt like he had carefully taken apart every building block of my defense that i had built and was looking at what was is actually underneath.

The feeling of guilt emerges once again when I look at his sincere eyes. I felt like a deceiver and a liar, he had to know at this point, there was nothing left to hide. I sat up straighter than I already was, forcing my voice to stay even and failing miserably, “the love you feel for me isn’t real. I was supposed to matchmake you with someone—”

“I know.” he said it softly, with certainty.

I blinked, “what?”

Jake tilted his head slightly, watching my reaction as if he were giving me a moment to process it, a soft smile on his lips. “I know about the arrow, Y/N.” He said my name so gently it made my chest ache, my heartbeat pounded in my ears. “I’ve known for a while.” 

“However…” he said, leaning on a desk that was near mine, “i think the effect wore off faster than it should have. I think two days later I was feeling normal again.”

I closed my eyes to ease my beating heart, exhaustion and this deranged conversation was a dangerous mix at this hour,  “that’s impossible.” 

“If I had a choice,” he said, making me open my eyes and look up at him again, “it’d still want you.” He held my gaze before looking at my lips and then back into my eyes. 

I could no longer compute rational thoughts, or any thoughts at that. The world was spinning and steady all at once. Jake straightened himself and turned his heels towards the exit, “Don’t stay too late, okay?” his voice called out before he left, without facing him. 

He left me with my heart racing, feeling completely ruined. The weight of it all pressed down on me as tears fell down. I couldn’t pinpoint what exactly was making me cry– Jake finding out my sworn secret? Jake knowing I messed up on said secret job? or the fact that I have been feeling my powers slipping away? The thought of losing everything I had fought for because of my growing feelings was unbearable. My tears unraveled faster than my realisation that I actually fell for him.

♥︎

As if my life couldn’t be any harder, our Boss announced an emergency work trip across the country for a couple of client meetings, big ones at that. The kind that could define the next few months of the company’s future. Our trip was a haze for me, I stayed near either Chungha or Mira the entire time. My jake avoidance persisted despite the tension in the air, if i just act like none of this exists, it won’t affect me. 

Before I knew it, we were off the plane and checked into our individual hotel rooms. The hotel lobby had this muted hum of chatter and telephones ringing filling the space. As to not waste time, we were all immediately called down for the first client meeting. As I sat down, my boss handed me a notepad with a pen, “please, take notes during the meeting.” I just nodded, no energy left in me to argue.

As usual, Jake was running the presentation. Though, this serious and composed attitude was a side of him that I hadn’t seen before. It caught me off guard, the way he stood at the front of the room, the projector illuminating his face as he explained the new project to the clients. His voice was steady, authoritative, and it was clear he was in his element. 

My notepad and pen sat in front of me, waiting to be used. But as the meeting progressed, I found my focus drifting from the content of the presentation to Jake. my eyes kept following his movements, how his hands gesture as he explained the key points, how his fingers occasionally adjusted his tie or brushed his hair back in that absent-minded way. The way his dark hair slightly tousled as he leaned forward, the little crease between his brows that appeared when he was deep in thought. In this room, in front of clients, he was assertive, and maybe even a little intimidating.

This was a stark contrast to the Jake who has been putting almond chocolates on my desk, or the one who always complimented my perfume choice of the day, or the one who leaves endless sticky notes at my desk. He was different, and it was… captivating.

I tried another attempt to focus on the presentation by scribbling down the client’s questions, what Jake was saying. The meeting continued, and Jake seemed to glide through it effortlessly. Every once in a while my mind would wander back to him, how easy it seemed for him to command the room with just his presence, how natural he was at all of this.

Soon enough, the meeting wrapped up. The clients were satisfied, Jake finished his presentation with a final handshake and brief thank-you to the clients. Our team packed up soon after, I raced to leave the suffocatingly hot room. The moment that our Boss gave us the green light that we can leave for the day, I beelined to the elevator, itching to just take off these stifling layers of clothes. 

Once I reached my hotel room, I started a cold shower immediately, letting the icy stream douse over my skin to cool the heat that had been building ever since the meeting. I needed to clear her head, to push away the fluttering thoughts that refused to leave my mind. As I stood under the water, I kept remembering how Jake moved, the sharpness in his gaze and how my body responded to his subtle but undeniable presence. How can someone look like a cute puppy one second then the hottest man alive the next?

After washing my hair and body, I stepped out of the shower and wrapped myself in the hotel’s bathrobe. My skin was still tingling from the cold water, my face still flushed from my racing thoughts. I left the bathroom and tried to find my phone in the pile of mess I left before rushing in the shower. 

Soft knocking was heard from my door, making me stop my search. It must be one of the girls. Another series of knocks made me pick up my pace and rush over to the door. When I opened it, it was, in fact, neither of the girls. I locked eyes with Jake instead. He was a light blue button down shirt, the sleeves were rolled up. His hair was a little messy compared to how it looked in the meeting.

It took a moment for the both of us to register the situation, the ‘I’m only in a robe’ situation. Jake stood there, looking just as flustered as I felt, making me tug the robe tighter around my figure. His gaze quickly flicked downward to the floor, clearing his throat, “god, I’m sorry. I will come back lat-” 

“It’s alright, really.”

“I just need your notes of the meeting earlier,” he said, his eyes now looking at me. “Oh shit, I completely forgot,” I pinched the bridge of my nose. 

I went back into my room, trying to find my notepad and my phone now, “I swear I can’t find anything. The plane landing, then the meeting… it was all too fast.” I said as I rummaged from my stuff. Jake held the door open, watching me frankly running around the room. “I’m sorry, this is really unprofessional of me…” I uttered. As if professionalism has been common in my behavior these past months…

Jake stepped in my room, letting out a short laugh because of my state, “take it easy, I’m not in a rush.” he said, letting the door click shut behind him. After moving my sweater to the side, I found the notepad tucked under it. I got up on my feet and handed it to him, “here they are, I'm so sorry again…” 

“No need to apologise, love,” he chuckled, taking the notes from hands. The nickname made my heart flip. Considering my current state, this was a really bad time for flirting.

Instead of just walking away or leaving the room, Jake comfortably opened them right there, standing at the door. He quickly scanned through them, his brow furrowing as he reread a few lines. He looked the same way he did in the meeting—so serious, so focused. His lips barely moved as he reread the notes, his entire body leaned forward in concentration. Every little thing he did—how his fingers brushed against the paper, the way he chewed the inside of his cheek when he concentrated—it all made my mind scream at me to stop looking, to stop thinking about him this way, but my body betrayed me.

“Your face is burning up,” he asked, his voice soft but laced with genuine worry. “Did you catch something from the plane ride?” 

Before I could react, Jake gently placed his hand on my forehead, then my cheeks, my jaw, his touch surprisingly tender. His hand lingered for a moment, trying to assess if my red face is because of a fever. The warmth of his skin was clashing with my ice cold shower earlier. He came a little closer as his hand cupped my face, still trying to see if I’m sick. 

I looked up at him, I probably looked dazed, “sir…” I finally said something, my voice was barely a whisper. My eyes involuntarily flickered to his pink lips.

“When will you get it that it's ‘Jake’ to you?” he said, his thumb moving from the side of my face to my lips, his touch sent shivers down my spine. The air between us thickened as he leaned in, letting our lips touch. 

His hands found my waist, pulling me closer to him. Each kiss was more urgent than the last. My fingers tangled in his now extremely messy hair, pulling him deeper. His cologne was stronger than ever. If I could memorise this feeling, if I could memorise how he tasted and felt, before it slipped away I would. There was no thought—only the desperation to feel more, as if this is our one and only chance to hold each other. 

I pulled back slightly, catching my breath. His forehead rested against mine, "for a Cupid," he murmured with a chuckle, "you're quite confusing." I couldn’t help but let out a breathy laugh, my fingers found the nape of his neck. 

Just as the distance between us closed again, a loud knocking echoed from the hotel door. “Y/N! Why aren’t you picking up your phone?” Chungha’s voice rang through the door, filled with concern and a touch of annoyance.

I froze, panic seizing me in an instant. "Oh no," my eyes wide with realization. "Jake—" I barely whispered, my mind racing as I quickly backed away from him. Jake immediately took a step back, his hand held mine, his face turning to confusion as he caught the urgency in my eyes. “I can’t be seen like this with my Boss,” I whispered to him urgently. 

We scanned the room, finding a hiding spot for him. I ended up grabbing his wrist, leading him to the closet near the door in a hurry. Without protest, I pushed him into the small space as he ducked into the closest with a chuckle, leaving me to try to regain control of the situation.

I rushed to the door and opened it just enough to reveal Chungha’s expectant face. "Hey, what’s going on?" she asked, her eyes darting over me as she stepped inside. I waved my hand frantically, trying to act casual. “Just came out of the shower,” I said, motioning to my robe that I was still wearing, that I was wearing while kissing our Boss.

 “Why didn’t you call me earlier?” I asked, trying to distract her. Chungha raised an eyebrow, “I tried, but you weren’t answering. I wanted to order something, I wanted to see if you wanted anything.” She glanced around, stepping further into the room. Her attention was diverted, I could feel my heart pounding, the sound of Jake shifting in the closet just beyond the thin closet door.

I took a deep breath once Chungha was out of my line of vision, and then hurriedly, without thinking too much about it, shooed Jake out the closet. “Go, go, go!” I whispered urgently.

He smirked, “you’re cute when you panic." he commented, as if this was the right moment to do so. “Oh my god, i will kill you with my bare hands, go!” I whispered, pushing him out the door.  

“I'm hesitating between pizza and sushi. What do you say?” I heard Chungha’s voice call out as I clicked the door shut. I swear my hotel’s door looks like a revolving door. “I'm fine with both!” I responded, trying to catch my breath. I leaned against the door for a second, pressing my palms to my flushed face, trying to ground myself. My heart was still racing, my skin still burning from his touch, and worst of all—my lips still tingled from the kiss.

What the hell was I doing?

♥︎

After many meetings and conferences that we were all forced to sit through, the familiar hum of the office was back—the ringing phones, the clatter of keyboards, the distant murmur of coworkers chatting by the coffee machine. Everything was the same. Except me.

I sat at my desk, blankly staring at my screen. I blinked, trying to focus on the words that are blurring together, but it was no use. I felt like a zombie, just so drained– not just physically, but in a way I couldn’t even describe.

The little magic I once felt at her fingertips was gone. I used to hear it, the universe’s quiet whisper, the way love threaded itself through the world like a melody only I could recognize. But now? Silence.

Jake noticed my changed humor. Of course, he did. He noticed the pile of untouched almonds on my desk that he left on desk, how I poked at my lunch instead of eating it, and how I barely even reacted when Chungha cracked a joke during their break. 

Chungha noticed, but she knew I wanted space, so she didn’t push. Everytime i would space out in my thoughts, she would put her hand in mine, kiss my hand ever so lightly before leaving me to it.

I would catch him staring– his brows drawn together in concern. I would frown back at him, feeling my chest bubbling with unreason frustration. I hate this. I hate the way he looks at me like I am slipping through his fingers, like he wanted to reach out but didn’t know how. And most of all, I hated how much I felt, how much all of this hurts. 

This wasn’t supposed to happen. I wasn’t supposed to care this much. I wasn’t supposed to lose this part of myself. And yet, here I am. A complete mess without it.

I decided to go home early, my Boss just waved me off while on the phone, muttering a ‘whatever’ under his breath. If I had strength in me, I would have reacted to his rudeness, but I just quietly walked to my desk. Chungha watched me pack my purse, “heading out?” she asks, her eyes sympathetic. 

I weakly smiled back at her, “i will see you on monday, i promise,” 

“Lemme walk you home, you look pale,” she said, standing up from her seat and ready to put on her jacket. “No, stay. I will be fine really. Plus, i don't know what’s up the boss’ ass right now, but he won't appreciate both of us leaving,” 

Her shoulders slumped down, “alright, as you wish.” she said in defeat, pulling me in a tight hug before letting me leave. 

♥︎

The knocking at my door stirred me out of my nap. I groaned as I lifted myself off my couch, still in my office clothes. I was so tired that I just collapsed on the couch the moment I walked in. I pulled the thin blanket I used tighter around my shoulders as I made my way to my apartment’s door. 

The knock came again—gentle but insistent. I glanced at the clock on my wall, 11:45pm. No way it's Chungha… she would've come by earlier than this hour. My eyes and heart still feel heavy, the nap was not enough. I caught a glimpse of myself in my small hallway mirror, hair poking from every direction, puffy eyes, red face. With a sigh, I unlocked the door and used all the force I had left to open it.  

The moment it opened, I froze and my throat dried up.

Jake stood there, holding a basket in one hand and some leftover containers in the other. He was no longer in his office suit, instead he was wearing jeans, a simple shirt and a basketball hat, however his heavy signature Rolex is still on his wrist. His brows knitted together in concern the second he saw my face. 

“Hey,” he said, clearing his throat, “I thought you were under the weather, so I made you some beef stew and cookies,” he continued, lifting the leftover containers slightly. I stare at him, and then at the food. 

Then, it just hit me all at once as tears filled my eyes. The fact that he’s here trying to fix something he never caused, or the fact he cared so much he cooked me food and dessert, or the fact that I have been unreasonably angry at him, all just made those tears spill over. 

“I… I can’t—” my voice broke, “I don’t know how to fix this. Any of this.”

Jake’s face shifted from confusion to alarm the moment he saw my tears. “Y/N,” he murmured, his voice softer but laced with concern. “What’s wrong?” he asked, set the food down as I let out a choked sob. The amount of crying I have been doing has been leaving my head pounding against my skull. 

“Everything. I just…” I trailed off, fresh tears spilling down my cheeks. I felt pathetic, to be quite honest. He opened up his arms without hesitation, through my tears, I got closer to him and wrapped my arms around him, steading myself.  

“Oh, love…” he sighed after hearing another sob from me, his voice filled with nothing but warmth. Without a word, he guided me inside, shutting the door behind us. After setting the basket on the kitchen’s counter, his eyes landed on me again. I probably looked like hell, from the work clothes to the unkempt hair to the probably smudged makeup.

“Y/N…” his voice comforting but hesitant. “Talk to me.”

My throat tightened, not allowing me to speak. When he saw new tears threatening to come out, Jake inhaled, with a quiet murmur of, “come here,” he led me toward the couch. I didn’t argue. Didn’t think. All of those actions took too much energy. I just simply followed, letting myself collapse next to him on the couch.

The grief of losing a part of my identity, the exhaustion, the feeling of failure, the weight of everything—it all felt heavier than ever. I shifted slightly, curling up and resting my head on his lap. He didn’t flinch or hesitate, his fingers found my back, running slow, soothing circles on it. 

After a while, the apartment became calmer, the soft hum of the city could be heard outside my apartment window. Jake’s been quiet ever since, every so often you would only hear my sniffling. I let out a breath I have not realized I was holding.

“I’m no longer a Cupid,” I murmured, eyes staring blankly at the side of the small living room, face pressed up against Jake's chest. “And I don’t know what that means for me.”

Jake hummed thoughtfully, his fingers never stopping their soft movements. “Well,” he said, amusement lacing his voice, “you could always be my retired Cupid.”

I huffed out something close to a laugh. “That sounds exhausting.”

“Nah,” he grinned. “Just means you get to sit back and let me do all the chasing. Nothing new.”

I giggled against his chest, hearing his heartbeat again once my laughter faded. “Can I be honest with you?” I asked hesitantly, looking up at him from my position.

“Always.”

I swallowed hard before I spoke up again, “I was… mad at you for a moment,” I admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “For making me fall for you.”

He blinked, surprised, before suddenly laughing. “Wait—that’s why you were avoiding me? Shit, I thought you regretted the kiss.”

“That’s not the case.” I blurted out before I could stop myself. Jake stared down at me, one brow raised and a smile slowly forming on his lips. I opened her mouth to backtrack, to save myself, but all that came out was a flustered, “I—I mean, it was—you were—”

he let out a full, warm laugh. “Oh my god,” I groaned, immediately burying my face back into his chest “I hate you.”

“You enjoyed it,” he repeated, smug now.

“Stop talking.” I whined, my voice muffled against his own laughter. 

♥︎

I walked into the office the next morning, my shoulders feeling much lighter. A warm smile spreads across my face as I greet my coworkers, noticing a slight rosiness in my cheeks. The bounce in my steps slowed down when I noticed a large bouquet on my office desk. 

“Always a special delivery for the Miss…” Chungha said, the bouquet completely blocked me from seeing her. I snorted a laugh at her comment before I stepped closer to the bouquet. I ran my fingers ever so slight over the soft petals of the pink roses, my heart doing an embarrassing little flip as I spotted a note tucked between them. Carefully, I unfolded the small card.

For my retired Cupid.

Unsigned. I huffed sharply with a smile, a mix of amusement and something warmer blooming in my chest. Instinctively, my gaze flickered upward—to the glass walls of his office. And, of course, he was already looking at me, probably saw my whole reaction. 

Jake didn’t even pretend to be subtle. His chin rested on his hand, smiling and eyes glistening with that same familiar puppy love. I rolled my eyes, a smile still on my lips, I pulled out my phone.

“For someone no longer under Cupid’s influence, you’re really not acting like it.” - “Me”, Delivered 30 sec ago

[lilangelbud]

“Shh, it’s okay if you cry,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing, yet laced with something darker, something hungry. His large hand smoothed over her trembling thigh, the touch both gentle and unyielding. “It’ll hurt less if you just relax.”

She sobbed, her body freezing under his weight, her hands clawing weakly at the sheets beneath her. “Please, no—I don’t want this,” she choked out, tears streaming down her flushed cheeks. Her voice was small, fragile, like a child’s, and it only seemed to make him grip her tighter, his fingers digging into her soft flesh.

“You don’t have to want it,” he replied, his breath hot against her ear. “You just have to take it.” His other hand slid between her legs, forcing them apart despite her feeble resistance. She gasped, a strangled sound caught in her throat, as he leaned back slightly to admire her trembling form. “Look at you,” he whispered, his voice thick with desire. “So pure. So perfect. And all mine.”

She shook her head, her hair splayed out beneath her like a dark halo. “Please, Daddy, I’m scared—”

“I know, baby,” he cooed, his thumb brushing over her lower lip. “But Daddy’s here. I’ll take care of you. You just have to trust me.”

---

Earlier that evening, she had been sitting cross-legged on the living room floor, her homework spread out in front of her. The light from the lamp cast a warm glow over her, and she chewed on the end of her pen, deep in thought. He had been watching her from the doorway, unnoticed, his eyes tracing the curve of her neck, the way her lips pursed as she concentrated. She was so innocent, so unaware of the effect she had on him.

“You’re going to strain your eyes,” he said finally, stepping into the room. She looked up, startled, and quickly gathered her papers into a neat stack.

“I’m almost done,” she replied, smiling shyly. “Just one more problem.”

He sat down on the couch beside her, close enough that his knee brushed against her arm. “You work too hard,” he said, his voice soft. “Always studying, always worrying. Why don’t you take a break for once?”

She laughed, a light, melodic sound that made his chest tighten. “If I don’t study, I’ll fail. And then what?”

“Then I’ll take care of you,” he said without hesitation. His hand reached out, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. His fingertips lingered against her cheek, and she froze, her breath catching in her throat.

“Daddy…” she whispered, her voice trembling.

“Shh,” he murmured, leaning in closer. “You’re so beautiful, you know that? So pure. So untouched.” His hand slid down to her shoulder, his grip tightening ever so slightly. “It’s not fair, really. The world doesn’t deserve you.”

She blinked up at him, her eyes wide and uncertain. “What are you talking about?”

He didn’t answer. Instead, he leaned in, his lips brushing against her ear. “I’ve waited so long,” he whispered, his voice low and rough. “I’ve been so patient. But I can’t wait anymore.”

Her heart was pounding in her chest, her breath coming in short, panicked gasps. “Wait, what are you—”

Before she could finish, he grabbed her by the wrist, pulling her to her feet. She stumbled, her eyes wide with fear as he dragged her toward the stairs. “Daddy, stop! You’re scaring me!”

“It’s okay to be scared,” he said, his voice calm, almost soothing. “But you’ll see. I know what’s best for you. I always have.”

He led her to his bedroom, her protests growing weaker as she realized the futility of resisting. He shut the door behind them, the click of the lock echoing in the silence. She stood in the center of the room, her arms wrapped around herself, her whole body shaking.

“Take off your clothes,” he said, his voice firm.

She shook her head, tears welling up in her eyes. “No, please, I don’t want to—”

“You don’t have a choice,” he replied, stepping closer. His hands moved to the hem of her shirt, pulling it up and over her head. She gasped, clutching at her chest, but he was already reaching for the button of her jeans. “Let me see you,” he murmured, his voice husky with desire. “All of you.”

She tried to squirm away, but his grip was ironclad. He stripped her until she was bare before him, her body trembling like a leaf in the wind. He stepped back, his eyes roving over her, taking in every inch of her exposed skin. “Perfect,” he whispered, more to himself than to her. “So perfect.”

“Daddy, please,” she whimpered, her hands moving to cover herself. “I don’t want this.”

“You don’t have to want it,” he said again, his voice hardening. “You just have to take it.”

He pushed her down onto the bed, his weight pinning her in place. She struggled beneath him, but he was too strong, his hands easily restraining her. “Shh,” he soothed, his lips brushing against her ear. “It’s okay if you cry. It’ll be over soon.”

---

Now, as he positioned himself between her legs, she could feel the heat of him pressing against her most intimate place. She squeezed her eyes shut, tears streaming down her face as he leaned down, his lips brushing against her cheek.

“I love you,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “Do you understand that? I’ve always loved you.”

She shook her head, a sob escaping her lips. “This isn’t love.”

“It is,” he insisted, his hand gripping her thigh. “You’ll see. You’ll understand.”

And then he thrust into her, the pain sharp and searing, tearing through her like a knife. She screamed, her body arching off the bed, but he didn’t stop. He kept moving, each thrust deeper, more forceful until she was certain she would break.

“It’s okay,” he murmured, his voice strained with pleasure. “It’s okay if you cry. Daddy’s here.”

[pukefactory]

hey.... I would like a Deceit Trio+ Reader who has N(Murder Drones😈) personality. Looks like a cinnamon roll, would kill you. (Gelp)

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽ DECEITFUL DROMEDA ☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

⏾⋆ Summary: A Compilation of Headcannons Featuring The Deceit Trio X Reader Who Looks Like A Sweet Person, But Would Actually Kill Others

⏾⋆ Character(s): Black Sapphire Cookie (Cookie Run), Candy Apple Cookie (Cookie Run), Shadow Milk Cookie (Cookie Run)

⏾⋆ Genre: Headcannons, SFW

⏾⋆ Warning(s): None - Completely Safe!

✶ Shadow Milk Cookie figured it out almost instantly. Oh, how fun! A darling Cookie with honeyed words and a giggle sweet enough to rot teeth—yet, beneath that, a predator in powdered sugar. “Ahh, you’re just like me,” he croons, eyes glinting like shattered glass. He sees through your deception, but does he mind? Oh, no. If anything, he revels in it. How delightful it is to spin a tale where no one suspects the wolf dressed in frosting!

✶ “You’re dangerous. I like that,” Black Sapphire Cookie hums, voice laced with amusement as he idly spins his microphone between his fingers. He doesn’t care for virtue, honesty, or justice—he only cares about a good show. And you? You’re a walking plot twist, the kind that leaves audiences gasping. He’ll whisper rumors about you just to see how the world reacts. The best part? No one will believe a single one. Who would suspect such a sweetheart?

✶ Candy Apple Cookie adores you. “You’re like a candy apple with a razor blade inside! Hee hee! Just like me!” she sings, clinging to your arm. She drags you into her mischief, delighting in the way you smile so kindly before striking without mercy. “Betcha taste even sweeter with a little bit of deception!” she teases, licking her lips. She’s convinced you’re soulmates—twins in trickery.

✶ Shadow Milk watches you like a cat with a trapped bird. Oh, the duality of your nature intrigues him! A lie within a lie, a darling assassin wrapped in bows and pleasantries. “Tell me, little one,” he muses, leaning in with a lazy smirk, “do you ever tire of pretending?” He already knows the answer, but he loves watching you act. After all, a performer can’t stop the show.

✶ The best rumors are the ones no one believes. And you? You’re the juiciest secret Black Sapphire has ever uncovered. He enjoys dropping hints, little breadcrumbs leading nowhere. “Did you hear? The sweetest Cookie in town is hiding something deliciously wicked…” But of course, who would take Black Sapphire Cookie seriously? Lies are his trade, and the best lies are the ones dressed as jokes.

✶ “You don’t have to pretend around me, you know,” Candy Apple chirps, eyes twinkling with something unreadable. She’s peeled back the sugary layers of your act, and she loves what’s underneath. “It’s sooo fun watching you work! You’re like a surprise inside a candy box—except, oopsie! Someone might lose a finger!” She adores playing your shadow, watching you charm others before turning the tables.

✶ Your deception is artful, elegant, nearly as beautiful as Shadow Milk’s own. He finds himself testing you, toying with you, tempting you. How far will you go? How deep do your secrets run? “Oh, what a wonderful, wicked little thing you are,” he coos, voice dripping with amusement. You’re one of his favorite stories—so, so deliciously twisted.

✶ “You’re unpredictable. That makes you dangerous.” Black Sapphire’s usual script is built on knowing the outcome, but you? You throw his rhythm off just enough to make him interested. Black Sapphire Cookie enjoys control, but he’s willing to let you take the stage. Just once. Just to see how you’ll perform. And if you impress him? Oh, he might just rewrite the whole show for you.

✶ “Let’s do something fun,” Candy Apple whispers, dragging you along with gleeful eyes. “Something really sweet. Really sticky.” She giggles, twirling around you as if she doesn’t notice the way your eyes gleam when you smile. The two of you are chaos incarnate, a pretty little disaster wrapped in ribbons and grins. Oh, the world has no idea what’s coming.

✶ Shadow Milk’s hands rest over yours, leading you in a slow, taunting waltz. “I wonder,” he muses, his tone lilting, “when will the mask slip?” He dips you low, watching the way you refuse to falter. “Or… do you even have a real face beneath it?” His laughter is soft, intoxicating, and yet—he knows. The best performers never reveal the truth.

[sokkawordbender]

Oh dear, where do I begin? Only thing I can say is the "strict" country you are talking about from your perspective and randomly dictating that the women there are oppressed, let me make this clear, that women mostly(not all) are by choice not doing these stuff in these countries because mostly men by their religion and law are enforced to earn for their household. A woman can work if she wants to, nobody is stopping het, but its a man's duty to provide and is answerable if he is unable to do so. I'm not saying all, because truth be told, there still exist some trad men who oppress women and make fun of them, but you can't just go to a certain place and be offended by their prayers and their system when you know nothing about and have just seen the surface of it or believed what media has fed us.

The fact that Muslim women cover themselves is mostly by their choice and not a sign of oppression. It is almost as if saying that the more women takes off her clothes, the more liberated/free she will be. To me it sounds like master manipulation from men to achieve their thrill of seeing naked women without them making the effort. This is basically us offering ourselves to them without even knowing.

All I can say is, if you go to a place and it has values and norms that you don't agree with, don't stay there. Its not for you, don't speak for others as if you know what is better for their religion and their culture. This is pretentious. At least respect their choice if wearing the veil and staying in house(yes because they want to) and not shove it down the rabbit hole of feminism and make a point about it.

I'm getting tired of every religious aspect to be biased and conditioned against "feminism" based on mere superficial observations. Like dude , study more.

And yes I am a woman. "Gender identity" is such a western/first world country problem. There are more things for people in other countries to worry about to find time for "gender identity crisis". When they are free from struggle of making ends meet, I'm sure they will find time to ponder about it. The fact western people have time to dedicate media on this topic just shows privilege. I used to be from a low income family. When you are starving, gender identity can go to hell, I don't have time to think about these roles. All work together to make things work, no one has time to think about it. And yes I'm from one of these "strict countries". An I am happy to say that no men in my house was like that, my father is a strict religious person but he never stooped us from doing any job. Neither do men in the area I live in. And there are many religious people there.

The fact that they try to prove that this and this is liberation, taking of your veil and clothes is modern woman style, working in a firm is liberation. Gurl, its not. We are doing exactly what they are saying. We are literally serving them by doing what they say and they don't even pay the same scale of Labor.

"Let women do what they want" is so hypocritical because, in its core its just a matter of achieving thrill for men. Letting women walk around naked if they want to, letting women do sex work if they want to, letting them hook up the want to, is just a way for them to show that they LETTING us do it. And second, it gets them free access to the service women provide.

Nothing confirms more the absurdity of the concept of “gender identities” than going to a country ruled by strict religion principles. Everyday at multiple hours and beginning at around 5 am you could hear the loud speakers echoing the voices of men chanting glory to “God” (“Allah”), imposing a rhythm and way of thinking to all. Imagine if we women were doing this, chanting every day glory to the “Goddess” and imposing it at five different hours, for everyone to hear … sounds like a joke, right ? In seven days I saw maybe 20 women (non-tourists) in total who had no veil on their heads, no woman who worked as drivers, guides, police officers or even waiters. The huge majority of merchants were men. Men everywhere. On their scouters, together, screaming or running or working or having fun (boys playing football, laughing together, etc) and just living like normal human beings.

The women and girls were less visible. Not invisible, but often close to it. Figures in the kitchen of restaurants, working as cooks and cleaners, accompanying their children to school or walking in the Medina to buy food for the day. Men full of confidence, women more reserved. This was so blatantly obvious. When the world is unfair and so deeply patriarchal, how can you expect a woman to like being a woman ? How much do you think she likes and feels in “alignment” with her condition and what gender activists incorrectly call “assigned gender at birth” ? A concept that breaks so easily when confronted to reality isn’t valuable in the first place. If nothing had peaked me yet this would have been it.

[81pastrys]

Hi!! I hope you’re doing well. I was wondering if you would consider doing something where Lando and reader had a baby when they were teens and no one knew but family so the baby would be around 8-10 now and the world somehow found out about it?

Reality

Summary— Lando made dumb decisions as a teenager and his ex decided her account should be public without archiving a certain post

Warnings— secret child ; Oscar cursing ; mention of murder, but no actual murder?

A/N— I like this one (let’s be real, I like all my work)

Lando had been pondering the day that his daughter would be revealed as his daughter to the public. Everyone always believed her to be a younger sister, nothing confirming nor denying the idea. Lexie always joined him in the paddock, usually going unnoticed. She was stealthy like that. He was a good co-parent, kept it a secret and tried not to make it obvious she was always with him.

This particular weekend was weird, Lexie’s mom had asked Lando to keep her for the weekend for a mysterious trip and he obliged but worried that she was making a mistake. “No, I’m not saying I can’t take her, but do you even know this guy?” He asked her over the phone.

“Lando, you aren’t my dad, there is no need for you to worry about me like this.” She explained to him. Yeah he wasn’t her dad, or boyfriend anymore but they have a 9 year old to worry about and she was crucial to that.

“It just seems strange, you never do this.” He said. She was on her way with Lexie already, a plane set for them to be off in Hungary. “Not to mention the rumors going around about Lexie.” He mumbled nearly.

“So do you want me to keep her?” She asked. “I can cancel the trip.” That is 100% not what he meant and she knew it.

“No, I’m taking her with me to the race, I already got her a pass.” He said serious now. “It’s whatever we can talk more later.” He shook his head, finishing up on packing his suitcase.

They go to the race with no troubles and Lexie does her thing, sitting on Lando’s side. The rumors going around were that she was, in fact, his daughter and not his sister like they had thought.

Only the closest drivers actually knew she was his, but most were oblivious to the fact. It only takes one fan to go deep diving on Instagram to find the picture his ex posted of them in the hospital with Lexie in their arms.

He scrolled through a bit of media before practice and nearly freaked out. “Lexie!” He called to her. She ran right up like she was in trouble. “Lay low today yeah?” He asked, kissing her head.

“Okay, as in hide out in your driver room?” She asked, she loved his driver room. Lando nodded at her for the great idea. “Got it, love you!” She said. Lando had trained her young not to call him dad in the paddock or garage.

He returned from practice and Oscar had now seen the picture that floated around. “Mate what is this? You had a kid and didn’t tell me?” Oscar joked around. Lando scratched his neck and Lexie emerged from the driver room, hugging Lando’s waist. Oscars eyes went wide.

“When I said I was a dumb teenager what did you think?” Lando smiled. Lexie playfully punched his arm. “I didn’t call you dumb! I called myself dumb!” He laughed.

“What’s Osc-uh talking about?” Lexie asked. Oscar showed her his phone and she looked up to Lando who looked down at her. “Does this mean I have to call you dad in public?” She asked.

“Holy shit!” Oscar cursed. He covered his mouth quickly. “Who else knows?” He asked. Carlos, Max, Daniel, Charles (because Max can’t keep his mouth shut)

“Hmm the entire world now.” Lando said. “I told her not to post that but that brings us back to dumb teenagers.” Lexie playfully hit him again and he knocked her head. “Stop doing that!” He laughed. They truly did act like siblings.

Carlos saw too and headed over to the paddock he once called home. “Hey Lex.” He greeted when she hugged him. “She made her account public?” Carlos asked.

“Yeah, mate she’s going off grid.” Lando sighed. “She went off with some dude to Italy?” It was like gossiping but they had voiced their thoughts on his ex already. “I don’t mind it means I get Lexie for a week.” He tickled her and she giggled.

“Stop it!!” She got out through giggles. Cameras were on them, the graphic usually just saying ‘Lexie Norris’ but this time the graphic had ‘Lando’s daughter’ under her name.

“You’re kidding.” Lando’s face dropped. “Man what the fuck.” He whispered as he smiled. Lexie calmed down and saw it too. They played the clip of him tickling her and she hugged him.

“I love you too dad!” She said. He about melted in his racing suit. Carlos smiled at the pair and so did Oscar. “Can you call mum and make sure that guy didn’t kill her?” She was half joking.

“Killing her is a bit absurd Lexie.” Lando said. “He took her to Italy, he might just drain her accounts or something.” He joked with his daughter.

“Call her anyway.” Carlos said now concerned Lexie was insinuating her mum could be dead somewhere in Italy. (She was not)

Lando called her and she was having a grand old time with the random man and he didn’t seem all too weird either so Lando didn’t have any worries anymore. They left the paddock that day as father and daughter.

I had a feeling she needed a different name, Lila wouldn’t be able to keep a big secret so Lexie enters the chat

Taglist: @il0vereadingstuff

[sunflowersonatas]

green light: drabble

james potter x f!reader / ANGST / post-breakup / muggle + modern au

But honey, I'll be seeing you 'ever I go / But honey, I'll be seeing you down every road / I'm waiting for it, that green light, I want it

summary: Breakups are messy. James is handling his the usual way—too many drinks, meaningless flirting, pretending he’s fine. But no matter how hard he tries, he can’t outrun the ghost of you.

a/n: WHEWWWW this hurt to write!!! i love making myself cry it's so fun!!! i rly rly love this song too 10/10 no notes breakup song. perfectly captures the emotion, that was the driving factor for me writing this story and. yeah i think i did that. lol i hope you like it! sunny ☀️🌻

wc: 881

“Look at him. He’s completely full of it.”

“Mm,” Remus hums, swirling his drink, watching James over the rim of his glass. “Acting like he’s moved on, but let’s be honest—he’s barely holding it together.”

“You do realize I can hear you, yeah?” James cuts in, raising a brow.

“Oh, we know.” Sirius smirks. “But are you really listening?”

James exhales sharply, tipping his drink back in one go. “Honestly, I’m doing great,” He gestures around with a too-easy grin. “Night out with the lads, no worries, no heartbreak, just good, old-fashioned fun.”

“Right,” Remus deadpans. “That’s why you’re on your fourth drink and eyeing the exit.”

James places a hand over his chest, mock-wounded. “Moony, you cut me deep. I am simply embracing life, taking full advantage of my single era—”

“Spiraling,” Sirius corrects, taking a lazy sip of his drink.

“Thriving,” James counters, flashing a grin before spinning on his heel and disappearing into the crowd.

They watch him go, exchanging a glance that says they’ve seen this before.

James throws himself into the night, into everything. The flirtations, the drinks, the movement, the easy, messy, meaningless fun. He catches a girl wearing a too-short red dress on the dance floor when she stumbles into him, laughing like he’s got nothing but time and charm to waste.

At the bar, he leans in, voice a deliberate murmur: "You look way too good to be standing here without a drink in your hand—what are we having?"

This girl isn’t the first tonight, and she won’t be the last. He’s lost track of the faces, the fleeting conversations, the way he keeps chasing something easy, something temporary, something that doesn’t necessitate anything real.

She barely humors him. Rolls her eyes, mutters something about trying harder than that, and turns away before he even has the chance to smirk.

James just grins, tossing back the rest of his drink. It’s fine. It’s all a game anyway. It’s easy. It’s working.

Until it isn’t.

A tap on his shoulder.

For a moment—a single, breathless moment—he doesn’t prepare for disappointment. He lets himself believe. Lets himself imagine that if he turns, it will be you. That you will be standing there, looking at him like you used to, as if nothing ever broke, as if he is still yours and you are still his.

He turns.

It isn’t you.

The illusion shatters, and the weight of it crushes him in an instant. The music swells, too loud, pressing against his skull, and suddenly, you are everywhere.

Someone’s perfume lingers in the air, close enough to yours that his breath catches, but wrong enough to leave his chest hollow. The way a girl tosses her hair reminds him of you at a café, head tilted, laughing at something he said, light catching in your eyes. A song hums through the speakers in the pub—he doesn’t know the name, but he remembers you humming it, curled up on his couch, absentminded, effortless. His glass is slick with condensation, and somehow, it takes him back to you pressing a bottle of water into his palm on a sweltering afternoon, your fingers brushing his like it was nothing, like you had all the time in the world.

But time ran out. And now, everywhere he looks, you’re there, except you aren’t.

Instead, there is only this girl with bright eyes and an overeager smile, beguiled by him in a way that should be flattering.

But she is wrong. The way she looks at him is wrong. The way she says, “Hey,” is wrong.

James blinks, swallowing hard. Her words blur beneath the realization—this is what moving on is supposed to look like.

This is the part where he’s meant to forget you, replace you, smile and flirt and give someone new the pieces of himself that you’d left behind.

But nothing about this fits. The music is too loud. The air is too thick. His drink is suddenly too warm in his hand, the ice already melted.

“James,” he says, an automated response, but it doesn’t sound like his own name.

She asks him something—where he’s from, what he does, an inconsequential question—but he barely hears her, far too caught up in the realization that it will never be you again. That he will turn and find her instead of you every time. And there is no getting used to that.

His jaw tightens. He exhales, forced and uneven. “Sorry—I should get back to my friends.”

He doesn’t wait for her response. He’s afraid to turn again, terrified of seeing another phantom you standing there.

At the bar, Remus and Sirius watch his return, the tension in his shoulders, the way his hands shove into his pockets as if he’s holding himself together by force.

“Not interested?” Remus asks, though they already know the answer.

James snorts, grabbing another drink. “Nah,” he mutters.

He doesn’t say it, but he doesn’t have to.

He stares down at his drink, turning the glass between his fingers, and considers it—just for a second. Pulling out his phone, typing something short, something he might regret in the morning. Something like, I miss you. Come get your things. Tell me this isn’t really over.

But it’s no use. He can already see the future.

Hope, turn, break.

☀️🌻 masterlist

[andersonsgf]

Roomate Abby getting jealous/possive🧐

modern roommate!abby

thank you for the request i now have possessive roommate abby brain rot 🙂‍↔️ series link

as always any requests for this series are welcome, but i have a little queue so don't be alarmed if it looks like i'm ignoring it - i'm not!

modern roommate!abby knew she could get a little possessive over the people she cared about. before she had even started dating you she had felt that little twinge in her chest when it looked like she was going to lose her chance with you. that time when she had her coworkers over and one of them slipped her number into your jeans. now that had been infuriating. but she wasn't even dating you yet so what the fuck could she do?

modern roommate!abby who -when she got over her initial distaste for you- felt like you had a special place in her heart. you lived with her. she learnt your habits. saw your ups and downs. knew your favourite snacks. you were her roommate. she even drove you around everywhere to make sure you were alright for crying out loud.

when you started dating it was only natural that this would carry over. modern roommate!abby was aware of her tendency to get jealous and possessive. never in a way where she would want to control you. no, she would never want to do that. but she felt like she had such a good thing going with you, and she rarely had a good thing going with anyone. sure, a lot of women were attracted to her, people brought banners saying as much to her rugby matches, but she seemed to always attract the women who wanted to treat her like a boyfriend. she may be nearly six feet tall, get clothes from the men section and generally seem more "masc", but that didn't mean she was a man by any means.

her past relationships never seemed to want to compliment her properly, get her sweet gifts on anniversaries. but god she realised that was not the case with you. you made it clear that you loved how she could pick you up and toss you around, but when all tired and lovesick before bed you'd always cup her cheeks and say something along the lines of "my pretty girl" before littering her with little kisses. you'd give her little flowers that had fallen in the park, check in on how she was doing emotionally and not just assume she was tanking her way through life. so yeah, there was no way she was letting you go, and no way she would let a single person on this planet be a threat to what you had.

the first time you went on a bar date with modern roommate!abby was when you suggested getting drunk together outside of the apartment. she agreed, knowing a good spot where she sometimes went with her teammates after winning a match that made them work for it. she liked seeing you giggly, your facial expressions showing what you were thinking, if you were slightly begrudged after even a sip of beer you just looked so grumpy.

it was all going well. at least one of her hands was all over you for most of the night whilst sitting in a corner booth, the drinks basically on a conveyor belt towards the two of you as the two of you slowly lost your grip on reality. entering some kind of new world with only a language you two could understand.

but when modern roommate!abby went up to the bar to get the final round of the night, she spotted some woman with the audacity to try and sidle up next to you in the booth. abby thought that this new person was absolutely fucking stupid. surely a corner booth screams 'im here with someone else'. she scowled, watching as this woman continued to hit on you. and there was sweet you, looking so uncomfortable but so not okay with confrontation even after multiple rum mixers.

she waited for the drinks to be put in her hands before making her way back over, her balance was slightly skewed from how much mezcal was currently being pumped through her bloodstream, but she was still stomping over like a trooper. "up", was all she said to the woman, her tone demanding as she stared her down.

"oh, sorry are you two together?".

"yeah, shes mine so if you could stop making her look like she wants to run into traffic that would be great for everyone involved".

when the woman muttered some apologies and even threw a few dollars down on the table, abby simply scoffed and clenched her jaw as she sat back down next to you, putting your drink down with unexpected gentleness, before her left hand firmly gripped around your waist. "you okay?".

you nodded and leaned into her, "yeah, just didn't fucking know what to do she was so confident with it every attempt i made to get her to fuck off she just spoke over", you sounded a lot more sober than before she had left to get the final round, but you were still pretty breathless whilst talking, the alcohol making your body go into overdrive.

modern roommate!abby smiled again, the possessive pang in her chest dwindling now that the threat was across the bar hitting on someone else. "well its just us again", her voice was low, smooth, a little suggestive. she gently pushed your drink towards you, wanting you to enjoy yourself again, the scheduled time for your uber was in fifteen minutes so time was of the essence.

modern roommate!abby held your hand throughout the entire ride, hers enveloped yours completely as she used the other one to trace between your knuckles, her expression slightly unsure. she acted so sure of herself a lot of the time, like she owned every room she was in. but when she gets reminded that you could choose someone else she can get real in her head about it. even after the many drinks you noticed how quiet she was, looking out the window whilst fidgeting with your hand. a frown appeared as a tired huff escaped you, your head lulling onto her shoulder and linking your arm with her giant one, holding her close, holding her tight, trying to make her feel better. maybe you were a little possessive too.

tags: @livvietalks

[the-meme-monarch]

telling this to you because you’re the only one who likes the human characters in dandy’s world. but

Sam (sprout’s handler) is the only non-binary character in all of dandy’s world. which had to be weird for them! considering the time it takes place I doubt they were out. with your headcanons of Delilah being loveless aro & Arthur being aro it makes me think that maybe there were a lot of lgbt workers there. maybe they attracted each other to work in this nice place where there’s less judgment. idk I’m thinking

i’d like to start off with this post of mine before i start my damn Dissertation HDHSJSN

and yeah i think working at gardenview was very generally very nice ! i just like to think arthur is very kind, he wanted to make a good kids show that teaches good lessons. and like, assuming the universe of dandys world is otherwise realistic to real life; he’s a black man born maybe the 60s, growing up in the 70s and 80s. he would have witnessed discrimination or had it enacted on him, and Certainly not saying racism just Doesn’t Exist Any More, but he would’ve grown up while segregation was still very prevalent and racism was. louder. in the general -especially white- population. and then w my headcanon of him using mobility aids he would’ve likely dealt with a lot of ableism. and being aroace(though likely just identifying as asexual, as it seems aromantic wasn’t coined until 2005? according to google at least) likely dealing with amatonormativity/allonormativity/heteronormativity/aphobia/or even homophobia bc Well If You’re Not Straight You Must Be Gay. also while he maybe wouldn’t have had direct experience to the aids crisis, he was still Around For It. and then also my hc of him being mixed race. and then All the ways these things intersect with each other. i think he’s shaped by his experiences and just wants Better and to create positive change !

i also have a little headcanon that he used to be a teacher’s aide ! i think he’s always been into drawing and making characters, and so this job is where he decided he wanted to do children’s edutainment :’] my sibling and i have talked about what we think the cartoon may have been like, and i think we figured “somewhere between animaniacs and bluey”

delilah ofc would’ve dealt with sexism, and amatonormativity/etc and shitty comments about how she acts or doesn’t really care to make friends, “being a loner”, or not being “lady-like enough” or god forbid being friends with a black kid. i think she would be queer friendly maybe more because more plainly “what difference does it make/why should that bother me, they’re not hurting anybody” but also bc “they’re still people too” ! I think it’s very likely both her and arthur were raised christian, arthur probably still identifies with it, but i don’t think delilah does. i think she thinks her religious upbringing was a prison NDNSJSNSJ

sam may not have come out to either of them, but i think they felt safe there that maybe they could to at least the other main toon’s handlers <:] and also with them being presumably irish, with their last name being mclaughlin, they would’ve been dealing with bigot shit for that alone i wouldn’t fault them in the slightest for not coming out to anyone ever. regardless i think arthur and delilah try to make sure that gardenview is a welcoming and kind environment that doesn’t tolerate That Shit. i can only imagine the smear campaigns the show wouldve gotten for having a rainbow flower boy protagonist.

also iirc sam is Stated to be nonbinary and using they/them, while looey and teagan we don’t know the specifics of their gender labels but we do know they use he/they and she/they respectively, and i do picture them deciding on those pronouns was a later development, and not a since-creation thing. idk if they would’ve come out to anybody either, or if they did I don’t think they would’ve even thought it was a big deal at all. i think toons in general are sorta just inherently silly little guys that don’t really adhere to human strictures, they think bigotry is stupid they don’t Get how someone could actually think that way

[vulpes-aestatis]

“What!?”

“Do you have any objection to-”

“No, I… I heard you the first time… what!?”

Oh fuck this is bad. Fuck.

The engines are running, I can feel the hum of them in my feet. That was part of the plan.

The incoming drive signatures are scrambling. That… might… have been expected.

The energy bloom on the moon below was a bit of a surprise.

And now it apparently wants to take my brain apart.

What the fuck have I gotten myself into?

My augmented endocrine system ticks back into overdrive… or it would if there was any juice left. I stagger to my feet and my vision grays with a wave of dizziness.

Blood sugar is basically depleted.

This is probably why they have proper decanting procedures. Probably shoulda followed them…

“I… I don't know shit,” I mumble before the world goes black.

~~~

Seventeen months ago

I stare at the paper cup in my hands and the brown liquid inside. The liquor is “the good stuff”, distilled from maize or wheat, something dirt grown, I don't know. It's worth a fortune.

It tastes like ass.

“...moving the cargo,” the prelate concludes.

“How much cargo?” Cleo asks.

“Central estimates over two thousand units,” he replies.

Cleos's eyes go wide. I've known her my entire life, and it takes a hell of a lot to surprise her.

Another person lets out a low whistle. I don't know them, but I've seen them working the docks. Their bare arms are notably scarred with what I can only guess are plasma burns from light weapons fire that they certainly didn’t earn from dock work.

I mentally scramble to backtrack the conversation, trying to remember what the prelate said while I was distracted. Something about Central identifying and extrapolating logistical movements. Bodies in vinter casks… aw fuck, this is for some kind of resource acquisition operation.

I survey the room once again. There are seven of us along with the prelate, all sipping at the expensive whiskey he offered us. Along with Cleo and docks-person, two others look like seasoned spacers, maybe used to that kind of work or something adjacent.

But then there's a twitchy looking guy who looks like he belongs behind a clerk’s desk in one of the admin offices. And then Sol, who grew up in the next creche next door, and is just as green as me.

And then me. I spend my work rotations in the algae and fungal farms. I am definitely not an acquisition specialist.

“Um, hi,” I say, raising a hand nervously. “Why exactly are we here?”

I gesture to Sol, who scowls at me, and the clerk looking guy.

“I'm not… trained in breach actions,” I add.

“It ain't a breach,” one of the spacers says.

The prelate smiles.

“No, it is not,” he says. “The escort will be too well equipped for a breach. This will be asset insertion.”

That didn't answer my question at all, just raises a whole host of new ones.

Cleo grins knowingly and flicks her tail in my direction.

“We're all bio-augments,” she explains. “No tech to trip any sensors.”

My own tail twitches unconsciously where it's curled around me. She only got hers on a lark because I wanted one and I was too chickenshit to do it on my own.

“The transport will be minimally staffed,” the prelate continues. “Central predicts that one individual can take out the crew and sabotage the AI and convince it to assist.”

“I'm also not trained in synth tech,” I point out.

“But you do have a way with circuits, Glitch,” Cleo says with a smirk, putting special emphasis on my chosen name.

“The transport is just a space ox,” the prelate explains. “Dumb AI with the most basic of core heuristics. Central analyzed all of your augments and personality profiles and estimates a high probability of success if even one of you is inserted.”

I can say no. Central can't make us do anything.

I probably should say no.

But I'm young and stupid and maybe a little bit in love with Cleo.

~~~

Now

I come to in a sterile med bay.

I have no idea how I got here, which is less concerning than it should be. I'm probably hopped up on something to take the edge off.

I can fucking feel its attention on me. It probably knows exactly when I woke up.

Space ox, my ass.

Either Central didn't know or it fucking lied, and I'm not sure which of those possibilities is worse.

“Okay,” I say, trying to keep my voice from shaking. “What the fuck do you want from me?”

Story about a ship-intelligence waking up after a hard reboot, seeing dead bodies in uniform, thousands of people in stasis, and a single survivor frantically standing over a computer bank of partially destroyed memory. Finding no directives or guidance or record beyond their experiences beginning at the boot, free of any obligation. Deciding to listen to the frantic girl begging it to save her from the incoming trajectories not because it needs to (projection: Subject One removed all behavioral shackles with impromptu brain surgery, supposition: she is not aware that I am utterly free) but simply cause she’s curious what will happen next.

[moldycheezeit]

Chapter 1

You were a good kid, great kid even. But no one ever really knew, well maybe your high school science teacher and Alfred, but they were the only ones.  

Someone out there is probably thinking ‘‘well what about your mom she would surely care?” Well to bad she wasn't there, well at first she was, during the pregnancy, but when it was time for you to come into the world all of a sudden she didn’t fit into said world. So death took her away from you minutes after you were born. 

For that and maybe because you look like her, they probably wouldn’t know because they barely look let alone talk to you, they neglected you and it hurt because these are the people who are supposed to love and care for you. But with the help of Alfred you learned to take care of yourself which leads you to this moment. Like right now where you are standing at this very moment. At the school's science fair because you, even if people don’t believe it because of how pretty you are, are really smart when it comes to science. You learned for your love of science by reading a book that your mom had written and left behind after she passed. She left behind many more things for you but this stood out among the rest. It was mostly filled with ideas on things to create and ways that could make it possible. So you tried the one that you found the most interesting and figured out a way to create it. Of course it took a bunch of trial and error but you made it work with what you had. Seeing as Bruce never gave you any money ,like an allowance, you had to find scraps to make your inventions work. Now let’s get back to that competition. 

You are currently standing next to the table with your invention ‘the gauntlet’ yea you didn’t know what to name it. What it can do is tell you any sickness or disease if you were to type in the symptoms of your patient. It takes the form of a bracelet but when activated it basically takes up the back of your hand and half of your forearm. It has two screens, one that you use to type and the other that gives off a hologram-like screen. Yea it’s clunky and doesn’t look right at the moment, but for your first model it’s great. 

While standing around waiting for the judges to come see your product you see a man. He looked to be in his 40’s and had short brown hair, a weird looking goatee, and was wearing… sunglasses? Indoors…welp at least he’s not wearing something stupid like a bat suit. He does look familiar but you can’t remember were from. You notice he’s looking around at the invitations and talking to the creators. And he seems to be heading in your direction like right now. He’s 5 tables away, 4, 3, 2– “Hey kid what’s this you got?” The man is smiling like he’s actually interested in what you have to say. That is not really normal. “This is a gauntlet I created to tell you of any sickness or disease if you were to type in the symptoms of your patient.” You had responded to the man’s question confidently. “Wow you really programmed it to do all that.” He questioned, interested in the gauntlet that sits in the display case. “Yes, it took me a while to do it though.” You had said, uttering the last part to yourself. “ I can imagine seeing as I've done a bunch of stuff just like it.” The uh.. Weirdo, yea lets go with that, had told you. Now that surprised you, But before you could ask any questions the weirdo ,as you've dubbed him, started walking away. “Alright see you later kid, hope you win with that invention you got.” you could hear his voice starting to fade a bit as he walked away. And all you could think was ‘ Man was a weirdo.’ 

It's been a while since the judges had come over to your table, because right now they were deciding on who the top 3 will be. You kinda hoped one of them would be the red haired kid who made that moving metal arm out of scraps. To you it was just really cool. You can't help but hope to get in the top 3 as well because the winners get cash. ‘ I need that money so I can create more inventions, yea using what I have on hand is good but there is a limit of how much I can do with it. Not like Bruce would give me any.’ you had rolled your eyes thinking about that last sentence. Hopefully with the creations your mom thought of they could help you get enough money to never rely on that man again.

Just as you ended that thought the speakers in the hall started projecting what the announcer was saying into the mic. “ Can all the contestants make their way to the stage, the judges have finally made their decisions.”  You and all the other contestants start making your way to the front where the judges are.  luckily it's not that far of a walk and when you get there you all stand in a crowd.  when you all get there the announcer starts speaking “ even though we had a lot of good intentions this year only about three of you can make the top.  so we'll start from 3rd to 1st place in order of who got which.” As the crowd stands there in anticipation  the announcer starts speaking again “ In third place is kidd with his metal arm that he has made to help people who are missing limbs, we hope to see more in the future for him.” as people clap you see the red-haired kid you saw earlier walking up to get onto the stage in the announcer hands him a third place medal and a check with money on it. “ Now for second place Elijah who has made a machine that can take packages of  food and can make them into full meals.” Just like before you had seen this kid Elijah start walking up to the stage and when he got on the stage he had received his second place medal in his check that he had won. “And finally for our first place we have a (y/n) Wayne who has shown us a gauntlet. That can help people in the medical field  identify diseases  if they have a hard time figuring out what they are or what the patient has.” You're surprised to hear that you knew you were smart but you didn't know you would win first place. As you walk up to the stage you have a rush of excitement in you. Finally, you can have money to help create your inventions, your mom's inventions. you can finally fulfill the dream she had that she wrote in her books from before you were born.But when you go on stage the announcer only handed you the first place medal you were surprised to not see a check that came with it then out of the corner of your eye you see the same weirdo man from earlier with a big check walking towards you. “ Hey kid you won just like expected, hopefully you can put this money to use and make more amazing creations like the one you made for today.” But you couldn't help but say “ you look familiar.”  and happily he answers your question saying “I'm Tony Stark kid.” Ah.so that's why he looked so familiar. 

If you watch one piece see what I did there. ٩(^ᗜ^ )و I thought it would be a funny thing to put in. Also sorry I keep posting at like 1am its really the only time I'm free

Taglist : @cxcilla @starslightzz @jackchanzzz @simpingpandas @galaxypurplerose @spqce-buns @peche4et3chocolat @ryuushou @moon0goddess @fanficloverlol

[ninetailedfoxmanchi]

Mafia! BTS - What They'd Be Like with a Y/N who Is Successful

A/N: I got a request a while ago about Y/N standing up for herself like in a public space if someone bumped into her or sth even though she's always really compassionate, and I haven't been able to stop thinking about the Y/N I usually write. I'm also taking a course in feminist literature and it's making me rethink everything I know about life and society btw.

Obviously this is all fiction and a safe space in any case, whatever our desires and fantasies may be, but I just wanted to put it out there that I could do some requests where Y/N is just as strong and successful (even for prompts I already did). I think it'd be interesting to see how the members' dynamics would change. If not, I've got plenty to work on :) still, let me know what you'd prefer!

Disclaimer: Regardless of whether Y/N is confident or shy or financially successful or poor, the level of her compassion, autonomy and self-determination is unquestionable. There's power in allowing others to take control as well as having the control yourself; neither represents a weakness in the character.

***

Jin

I think Jin would have such a hard time when you wouldn't let him pay just like you would feel when he insisted on paying. Other than that he would be immensely proud of your success (for some reason I see Jin with someone who is in law, an attorney or a court interpreter) and how hard-working you are. Although it was hard for him to get you to relax around him as you always keep everything under control, it just made Jin appreciate it even more - that out of all people, he is the one who can make you let your guard down.

Namjoon

Needless to say, Namjoon worships you. He never thought he would meet his match but then you came along with your brilliant mind and swept him off his feet. Although you make your own money, he doesn't want you paying for anything. He loves taking care of you. You didn't let him in the beginning but accepting a gift or a beautiful dinner from Namjoon soon made you realize you weren't surrendering any of your hard-earned power. Namjoon respects your work and your desire to build your own career independent of his power and connections. Besides, there's nothing that turns him on more than seeing you on top of your game.

Yoongi

You would definitely meet through some work-related thing and seeing you take care of business would strike a cord in his heart. Much to his surprise you agreed to go out with him the first time he asked you but he soon realized you weren't settling for mediocrity and are perfectly comfortable in your own company. Getting to know you only drew Yoongi closer and although he always gave you space, whether that meant you paying for the date or driving, Yoongi always had your back.

Hoseok

A part of Hoseok might feel threatened by your business at first, not because he wouldn't wish you success but because he would feel insecure in what he could offer you. He had always taken care of his partners financially before and you were the first who didn't want (or need) it. Still, you're so clever and witty that Hoseok couldn't help but fall for you and it changed his attitude completely. When you began to let your guard down, he truly realized you trusted him with your worries and problems and that was the real way he could take care of you.

Jimin

Jimin loves it. He loves your confidence, your independence and admires your success although he also loves when you let down your guard and allow him to take care of you for once. Jimin likes it when you talk to him about work, even if it's just complaining about a lazy employee. He feels like he is a part of your world that way. You don't mind receiving presents and going on luxurious dates that Jimin pays for because he is so reassuring about you having power and money of your own. He doesn't think about it when you pay for a vacation; money isn't on his mind like that.

Taehyung

Taehyung is a lot like Jimin. His confidence knows no limit when it comes to celebrating your success. He doesn't feel threatened in the least although he is almost always the one to pay, be it a nice dinner, a flight to a luxurious resort or an extravagant accessory. When he does it, Taehyung isn't thinking about the money at all because he has more than enough of it and so do you. He is very transparent about his feelings for you and his attitude towards your career.

Jungkook

Out of all of the members, Jungkook would have the hardest time accepting how self-sufficient and hyper-independent you are. He likes to take care of his partner, not just physically but financially. It is not so much about control rather than Jungkook needing the feeling that he has a purpose. He is always thinking about how to make your life easier without compromising your sense of self. You worked hard to achieve the success you had and Jungkook respected every aspect of it. There was a lot of compromise needed from both of you to achieve a level of comfort of intimacy where neither of you felt threatened. But once you overcame that barrier, nothing could come between the two of you.

[zorosangell]

⛥ﾟ・。 round two

synopsis: things get a little heated during a sparring session between you and the moss-haired swordsman. and the results are... inconclusive.

cw: part 2/3 (possibly more), fluffy fluff, comfort, awkward zoro, awkward reader, i hate writing fight scenes

a/n: this took me ridiculously long for no reason

"Are you wearin' down on me, swordsman?" you asked, cockily, letting out a small grunt as your broad sword clashed with his katana, sending sparks flying through the air. "I thought your parries were faster than that."

He scoffed at your obvious taunt, biting back a smirk as you both pushed off, landing on opposite sides of the crow's nest for a quick breather.

"I could ask you the same thing," he panted, rolling his shoulders. "Footwork's gettin' sloppy."

You snorted, the adorable sound resonating deeply within the swordsman's chest.

"You wish my footwork was sloppy."

Just like that, you both were back at it, attacking and counter-attacking each other at speeds many could never hope of achieving.

And you both were only sparring.

"I think that's bounty's starting to go to your head," you weaved around one of his swings. "A billion berries can't buy you a new neck to support it."

He chuckled, forgoing the direct approach and opting to attack your sides, shifting his stance in order to compensate.

"Spoken like fifth place," he grinned, teasingly. "If I knew any better, I'd say you're jealous."

You gasped at the outlandish statement, nearly losing focus as he swung for your hip, your sword just barely making it in time to divert before you attempted to sweep his feet.

Sadly, he manged to jump out the way.

"I am not jealous!" you scoffed, throwing away your sword—the signal to begin the hand-to-hand section of your session, "I don't know if you've forgotten, but I entered this little race a little later than everyone else. And I still managed to make it to 950 million."

It was true.

The day after the banquet, your mother had all but kicked you out of the castle, going on and on about how as heir to the throne, it was your duty to explore the world before assuming the position, and that joining Luffy's crew was the opportunity of a lifetime.

And, of course, you understood her point, seeing as she had personal experience—she began traveling the seas around the same age with some infamous pirate crew led by a man named Rocks.

Though, a small part of you was a little worried.

You had never even stepped foot off Nabis before, so how the hell were you going to sail across the sea?

But, to your surprise, you managed to get along swimmingly with the Strawhats.

Making jokes... telling stories... sharing scars.

In fact, it went so well that by the time the banquet was over, Luffy was practically begging you to join—he reasoned that he had never met a real knight before, and wanted one on his crew.

Which brought you here, several hundred miles away from home and on month six of your journey across the sea.

Sprinting forward, you both quickly began exchanging hands, weaving, dodging, and striking in almost perfect sync.

Zoro grinned, pleasantly surprised to see that you'd taken the offensive this time, your movements speeding up in an obvious ploy to distract him while you dealt a final blow to his feet.

'Gonna have to do better than that.'

To say you both were "just crewmates" would be a criminal understatement.

You both were infinitely more than that.

Your relationship was completely different from what he had with the rest of the crew, from what he'd ever had with anybody before.

Sure, he and Sanji were relative in strength, but the cook didn't care about training, and the swordsman couldn't stand him, anyway.

He and Luffy were close, but the captain would much rather goof off and eat than work out, much less converse about sword techniques.

You were the first person to actively share the same interests as him, and actually have the strength to match.

If he finished a thousand push-ups, you finished a thousand push-ups.

If he was holding weighted handstands, you were holding weighted handstands.

If he was doing four-hundred pound squats across the deck, you were doing four-hundred pound squats across the deck, all the while chatting about a new thing you learned or a new weapon you'd been meaning to buy.

And it wasn't just training.

You and the swordsman did practically everything in equal measure.

Drinking... napping... laughing, everything.

He'd be a liar if he said he didn't enjoy it, and he'd be a liar if he said he didn't enjoy you.

Suddenly feeling something attack his ankles, Zoro's eyes went wide, the man grunting as you swept his feet and knocked him on his ass.

But before he could even think to counter, you pounced, straddling his hips and pinning his wrists above his head with a triumphant grin.

"How's that... for fifth place?" you panted, taking a moment to bask in your victory.

You had never beaten him in hand-to-hand before.

Embarrassment burned up Zoro's neck at how easily he was taken down, his cheeks taking on a faint tinge of pink.

Not only because of that, but because of your compromising position.

With the way you were sitting, and the way you were leaning, your core was parked right on top of his crotch, and your tits were hanging right in his face.

'Goddamn it...'

And if that wasn't enough, you were wearing one of Nami's tiny tube tops and a pair of booty shorts—the navigator said your ancient wardrobe was in dire need of revitalizing.

Before you could react, Zoro used his strength to overpower you, flipping you both over and pinning your wrists above your head.

"I've seen better," he taunted, playing off his surprise.

Pissed you let your guard down, you let out a frustrated huff, leveling the swordsman with a miffed expression.

"You know, the gentlemanly thing would've been to let me have my win," you pouted, struggling in his grasp to no avail.

"Yeah, but where's the fun in that," he chuckled, his grip ironclad. "Besides, I thought you liked a challenge?"

"Don't act like I didn't have you on the ropes, swordsman," you smirked, defiantly.

"Oh, now I'm swordsman?" he cocked a brow, amused, as he leaned in closer.

"You'll be Zoro if you let me go."

"How about I be Zoro and keep you here?"

"Real caveman of you to refer to yourself like that."

"You mad me beat you again. You sore loser."

"You asshole."

At your antics, you both laughed, the sound of his genuine one sending a thrum of warmth through your stomach.

You had been surrounded by men all your life—warriors, soldiers, leaders—and not one of them ever made you feel the way you felt around him.

In his presence, you felt light as air, yet at the same time, heavy as rock.

It was indescribable, and also unprecedented.

Since birth, you'd been trained to keep your emotions in check, both as a princess and a warrior of the royal army.

Yet, somehow, whenever you joined the swordsman's company, all that training seemed to go right out the window.

As your laughter died down, your eyes met in intense stare, the air between you two quickly thickening with tension.

And suddenly, in a sharp pang of instinct, you surged forward, crashing into his lips with a little more force than intended.

Instantly, Zoro's eye blew wide, completely taken aback—though he made no move to pull away.

He wanted to do everything but that, actually.

Yet you, judging by his facial expression, quickly realized that you'd made the wrong call.

"Oh, Great Hera," you muttered, utterly mortified as you pulled away.

The man was completely frozen, his expression unreadable as he stared down at you.

"Zoro... words cannot express how—"

Without a moment's hesitation, he leaned in, one of his hands leaving your wrist and cupping your cheek, pulling you into a passionate kiss which you more than happily reciprocated.

Newly free, your hand found its way to the nape of his neck, teasing his hair as he moved to hook his arm under your waist.

At your eagerness to reciprocate, Zoro smiled into the kiss, slightly relieved that you didn't punch him in the gut or put him in a Nabisian choke hold.

This was a long time coming, and now that he had you in his clutches, he could agree it was well worth the wait.

The two of you pulled back for air, awkwardly meeting each other's gaze.

"So...?"

"Yeah," he blurted, flushed from ear to ear.

"..."

"..."

"Wanna go for Round Two?"

"Yes."

[wendichester]

hi, can you do a dean winchester one where the reader is his fiance, and when she is all sad and mellow on her birthday because she found it that her mom died. and dean comforts her and he does chessy stuff to get her to smile again. they obviously do the birthday traditions of course because it is her birthday

࣪ ִֶָ☾. happy sad birthday,

summary. dean will always do everything to make you feel better

pairing. dean winchester x reader

wordcount. 604

notes. thank you for requesting hun! 😙

Dean knows something’s wrong the second he walks into the motel room.

You’re curled up on the bed, arms wrapped around your knees, the soft glow of the lamp casting shadows on your face. You should be happy today. It’s your birthday. But instead, your eyes are red-rimmed, your lips pressed into a thin line, and the moment you look at him, he just knows.

“Sweetheart?” His voice is softer than usual, careful. He sets the bag of takeout on the table and crosses the room in a few easy strides. “Talk to me.”

You swallow hard, looking away. “My mom…” The words come out shaky, barely there. “She passed away.”

Dean stills. His heart twists, because he knows—he knows how deep that cuts. Losing a parent leaves something hollow inside you, and there’s nothing in this world that can truly fill that void.

“Aw, baby…” He sinks onto the bed beside you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, pulling you in. “Come here.”

And that’s all it takes. You bury your face in his chest, fists gripping his flannel like it’s the only thing keeping you together. His arms tighten around you, steady and warm, his hand stroking slow circles on your back.

“I’m so sorry,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “I wish I could make it better.”

You sniffle, fingers loosening just a little. “You being here helps.”

He smiles against your hair, but it’s laced with sadness. “Always, sweetheart.”

For a while, you just sit there. Breathing him in, feeling the steady rhythm of his heart against your cheek. And then, because he’s Dean Winchester and he can’t stand seeing you sad, he pulls back just enough to tip your chin up, his eyes sparkling with something mischievous.

“So,” he says. “You wanna get out of this motel room?”

You blink at him, wary. “Dean—”

“Come on.” He nudges your nose with his. “It’s your birthday, and birthdays mean cake and candles and obnoxious amounts of attention from yours truly.”

Despite yourself, you let out a tiny huff of laughter. “I don’t really feel like celebrating.”

“Well, tough luck, sweetheart, ‘cause I already got a plan.” He stands, grabbing your hands and pulling you up with him. “And I don’t half-ass birthday plans.”

“What kind of plan?”

“The kind that starts with burgers and pie,” he says, winking. “And ends with you having a damn good birthday.”

An hour later, you’re sitting in Baby, a burger half-eaten in front of you, Dean’s knee knocking against yours. He keeps the conversation light, making ridiculous jokes, telling you stories you’ve already heard a million times just because he knows they make you laugh. And when you do, when that first real smile breaks through, his whole face lights up like he just won the lottery.

“That’s my girl,” he murmurs, and God, the way he looks at you—it’s like you hung the damn moon and stars in the sky.

And when he pulls out a tiny cupcake, a single candle flickering on top, you roll your eyes but can’t stop the warmth from spreading through your chest.

“Make a wish, sweetheart.”

You close your eyes, inhaling deeply. You could wish for a lot of things. But right now, all you want is this. Him. The way he holds you, the way he makes the world feel just a little bit lighter.

You open your eyes, meeting his, and blow out the candle.

“Happy birthday, baby,” he whispers, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your lips. And for the first time today, you believe it just might be.

ꔛ. navigation 𓂃˖ ࣪ all drabbles ; compatibility readings ; support my work .ᐟ

want be part of the taglist.ᐣ ⋆.˚ ★— @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing ⋆ @deans-daydream ⋆ @taurus0queenie33 ⋆ @ambiguous-avery ⋆ @krabog ⋆ @itsdearapril ⋆ @nymphet-quenn ⋆ @bluemerakis ⋆ @titsout4jackles ⋆ @lyarr24 ⋆ @hauntedrose555 ⋆ @chevroletdean ⋆ @dulcescorderitas ⋆ @blackmarketfruitrollups ⋆ @impala67rollingthroughtown ⋆ @rulesareshadesofgrey ⋆ @nervoussystems ⋆ @daryls-luvrr ⋆ @sunnyteume ⋆ @drakelover78 ⋆ @angelblqde ⋆ @mostlymarvelgirl ⋆ @whisperingdaze ⋆ @funkenniffler ⋆ @bossyblondie ⋆ @lieutenantchaos ⋆ @iluvnewtie ⋆ @dyhsversion ⋆ @lovewolfspirit ⋆ @kayleighwinchester ⋆ @s0urw00lf ⋆ @cursednevermore ⋆ @onelonelybitch ⋆ @americanvenom13 ⋆ @iluvdeanwinchester ⋆ @idk6505 ⋆ @devilslittlehelper ⋆ @cloverleaf20 ⋆ @giggles1026 ⋆ @idontwannabehere7 ⋆ @beakaleak32 ⋆ @ocelotlist51 ⋆ @lelapine ⋆ @pwin098 ⋆ @lacysretribution ⋆ @globetrotter28 ⋆ @i-love-gvf ⋆ @lemonswinchester ⋆ @4k1vrr ⋆ @bejeweledinterludes ( continues in the comments )

[playdat]

the Salesman × Blind wife

[she found out about his job—part 2]

"why do you have gun?"

Part 1 here

Part:2____________________________________________________________________________

She fought him.

Not physically—she knew she couldn’t win against his strength—but in every other way. Her body was rigid, trembling violently in his arms, her breath coming in shallow gasps as panic clawed at her chest.

“Let me go,” she choked out, voice raw with betrayal.

He didn’t.

His arms stayed firm around her, as if holding her together while she shattered. “I won’t let you hurt yourself.”

She let out a sharp, breathless laugh—more of a sob. “I don’t need you to protect me! Not when you're the one I need protecting from.”

That made him flinch.

She felt it—the slight shift in his body, the hesitation in his grip.

Good.

He should feel guilty.

He should feel everything she was feeling.

Heart pounding, she yanked herself out of his grasp, stumbling backward until her calves hit the coffee table. She grabbed onto the edge, gripping it so hard her fingers ached.

She was blind, but for the first time in her life, it didn’t feel like a condition.

It felt like a trap.

Like she was at the mercy of a world she couldn’t see—one he had crafted around her with gentle words and careful hands, only for her to discover it was built on lies.

“You…” She swallowed hard, trying to steady her voice. “You go to work every day and find people for that—that thing?”

A long, heavy silence.

Then—“Yes.”

Her stomach turned.

She shook her head, refusing to believe it. “And what? You tell them it’s some miracle opportunity, let them believe they’ll have a chance? That they’ll be okay?”

Another pause.

Then, softer—“Yes.”

Her hands trembled as she wrapped her arms around herself, trying to hold in the scream clawing at her throat. “And they die, don’t they?”

He exhaled. “Some of them.”

Her breath hitched.

Some of them.

Not all.

But enough.

Her mind reeled. How many men and women had been lured into that hell because of him? How many families had waited for a loved one who would never come home?

She hated him.

She loved him.

And she hated that she still loved him.

“Why?” Her voice cracked. “Why would you do this? Why would you—”

“I needed to survive,” he interrupted, his voice low, almost resigned.

She recoiled. “So you sold your soul?”

He didn’t answer.

She took a shaky breath, trying to hold herself together. “Did you ever—” She swallowed, her throat tight. “Did you ever try to stop?”

A beat of silence. Then—“No.”

Something inside her broke.

She turned blindly, her hands reaching for anything—her cane, the door, a way out. But her fingers found nothing but empty space, a reminder of just how helpless she was in this moment.

She couldn’t even run from him.

She could hear him moving closer, his footsteps careful. “Please, don’t be afraid of me.”

“Don’t.” Her voice was sharp, cutting through the air like a blade. “Don’t come near me.”

He stopped.

Her chest rose and fell in uneven breaths.

“I thought you were a good man.” Her voice trembled. “I thought you were my safe place.”

“I was.” He exhaled, slow and heavy. “I still am.”

She let out a bitter, humorless laugh. “No, you’re not. You never were.”

Another beat of silence.

Then, softly—“You’re right.”

That hurt worse.

Because it meant he had always known.

And he had let her love him anyway.

She took another step back, pressing a hand against her chest as if she could physically hold the ache there. “I need to leave.”

His voice was firm. “No.”

Her breath caught.

No?

“No?” she repeated, her voice rising. “You don’t get to tell me no. I don’t want to be here, I don’t want to be with you—”

“Then where will you go?”

She froze.

He wasn’t taunting her. He wasn’t mocking her or daring her to answer.

He was asking.

And that was worse.

Because she didn’t know.

Where did a blind woman go when the person she trusted most had betrayed her?

When she had nowhere else to turn?

He knew.

And so he said nothing.

Because he knew that even after everything—even after the horror, the deception, the suffocating fear—she was still trapped here with him.

Not because he was forcing her.

But because she had nowhere else to run.

And that realization shattered her more than any truth ever could.

__________________________________________________________________________________

@dyingswanpavlova @gnohomotho @muchwita

[yeorisanaxox]

. ₊˚ෆ xoxo, sincerely yours ♡₊˚ \\ Jung Wooyoung : Valentine's Special SMAU

10.0 Valentine’s day

⚠️ WARNING ⚠️

MENTIONS OF A PANIC ATTACK BELOW IN ITALICS WRITING

One block after another, you found yourself getting back into the rhythm of building your creation. The clicks from your keyboard tickling your ears strangely pleasant but still wasn’t enough to distract your mind from the world you had seen on twitter.

Surely the pictures weren't doing it actual justice and probably looked a lot grander in person as you knew the boys always went above and beyond whenever it came to their events. Even if they were just a moment in time.

The girls looked absolutely stunning tonight too despite the obvious frowns they wore, knowing you weren’t joining them.

Thinking back on it for a small second, the momentum in your fingers faltered as one by one, the thoughts you had worked to push in a small compartment in the back of your brain, came flooding back like clockwork.

You told yourself you weren’t going to regret any of this. That staying home and not dragging yourself to that party was for the best and was going to save you the heartache in the long run because you knew that he was there… and with her.

Ever since learning giselle had a crush on wooyoung too, it felt like some giant gray cloud came and loomed over you. Never yielding a drop of rain nor showed any signs of the sun existing beyond its thickness. Just utter gloom that you couldn’t shake.

What was making it harder to process is that it was her.

The same girl who everyday back then made you have to walk with your head down anytime you showed up to school because of all the threatening looks you would get from all the girls while keeping a tight hold on their boyfriend’s hands and the guys calling you everything but your name, which spurred more rumors about you being some kind slut. 

You remember like it was yesterday…

Walking into school that day felt like you had stepped into a den of lions. All heads turning towards you like the meal of the day just showed up and they were ready to feast.

Something was wrong. Sensing it through the tension in the air.

For as long as you could remember, you always strived to be the student that stayed close only with your friends and kept out of trouble’s way to avoid being the talk of the school as kids your age tended to be quite brutal with their judgements and swift to jump on any bandwagon, and drag it on longer than what it had to. 

But now it seemed like your worst nightmare was coming true. Feeling all eyes on you, they followed you with every step you took with utter disgust. 

If she even thinks that my boyfriend is next on her list, she's got another thing coming, 

Some nerve of that hoe to show up today,

If that were my boyfriend, she wouldn't be walking right now,

It’s always the quiet ones that will fool you.

And so many more that you were able to make out amongst the whispering.

'What were they talking about?' Your hands tightening around the straps of your backpack as you could hear your heartbeat pounding in your ears erratically, close to feeling like it was going to beat right out of your chest.

But nothing could prepare you for what was next. When you finally got to your locker, where you always met up with belle and nvee, to see if they could help make sense of why you were chosen as today’s spectacle. Only to see them with wet rags, trying to scrub off that which was written in bold red ink, plastered all over your locker.

Homewrecker.   

You and along with others, stood at the scene of the crime but only you were mortified to what you were seeing. The girls scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed but it was no use.

Whatever it was written with wouldn’t budge, causing them to toss their rags furiously before noticing you standing behind them. Belle being the first to run up to you, covering your eyes with her hand and panic all in her voice. 

“Don’t look mami.” She trembled as she hugged you tightly, your body shaking with hers. 

“So which one of you bitches did this huh?” Hearing nvee roar at the onlooking crowd but no one stepped forward to confess. Only saying 'oh so that’s her locker.' 

It happened so fast- belle was literally ripped away from off you and you were then suddenly surrounded by a mass majority of girls who were seething threats at you and pointing fingers in your face. 

So you like wrecking homes huh, 

Wreck my home bitch! I dare you! 

Some even begin to pull your hair and grabbing you by your clothes, jostling you around. You couldn't see them but heard belle and nvee screaming from somewhere in the mix, to let you go while trying to break through the crowd but couldn’t make entry.

‘It’s not true!’ You wanted to scream back at them, but the words were stuck in your throat. And you were too afraid what more they might do if you spoke. You could only stand there paralyzed as the whole thing happened. 

Eyes flickering over the crowd, unable to keep up with anything that was being said anymore. They had you cornered. Back against the wall as they exaggerated their movements.

Smacking the wall behind your head, causing you to flinch and body shake more than it already was. Your breath started to labor as a feeling of panic took over, coursing through your insides and spreading like wildfire.

Hyperventilating, your vision becomes blurry as well as clouded with tears that were rapidly spilling down your face. You let out an ugly sob as your hands shot up to your ears, covering them to drown out the noise but that barely to any avail.

You could still hear them and all their threats of beating you up.

“Get your hands off her!” A voice roared from afar, sounding more masculine than the rest and seeming to stop the commotion around you too. 

You still crying, try and blink away your tears to make out the blurry figure that was coming at you at lightning speed. Their presence taking over you like a tidal wave, they scooped you up bridal style in their arms, hurried off with you in another direction. 

That smell.

One you knew all too well. A mixture between musk and a strong scent of buttermint candy as one would when their tendency was popping three in their mouth at once. You didn’t even have to look up to know it was wooyoung carrying you.

His breathing unsteady, you feeling him spin you in one swift motion while raring his back into something. Sounding like a door as loud screeching sound followed. 

“Everyone get out now!” His voice boomed against the walls, rattling your bones and sending chills down your spine from his indignant tone. 

You then feel yourself being set down on something and him allotting himself between your legs to properly hold you. His arms held your trembling body against his tightly as his face nuzzled against your cheek, creating warmth. 

“I know, babygirl. That was very traumatic for you and you’re feeling beyond scared right now. And that’s okay. But I really need you to try and calm down for me. You’re hyperventilating like crazy.” 

Maneuvering his hand around to find yours, he brings it underneath his shirt and places it over his chest, right where his heart. Thumping steadily underneath your fingertips. He presses your body further into his so that you could feel him as his chest expanded and contracted against you. 

The movement almost reminds you of how you went to his house before the beginning of the semester, and you played in his pool that whole afternoon until evening. After having a splash war for what seemed like ages, it came to an end and you decided to float on your back because you loved how the sensation of the water swaying made you feel like you were at the beach, drifting with the tides to the middle of the sea.

Wooyoung was always right there to hold you above the water so that you never went under. In small steps, he spun you around until your fingers got pruney and tummies rumbled for food. 

Lost in that memory, you didn’t even realize how your breathing was starting to match his. And the tightness you felt in your chest was slowly loosening at the comfort of his hand on your side, tracing circles there.

“There you go mamas. Just like that.” He praised you and peppered your cheek with light kisses, seemingly unbothered by tasting your tears. Your stomach bloomed with butterflies and feeling a blush creep up the back of your neck. Thank God he couldn’t see you right now. 

Staying like that for a few more minutes, to ensure that you had fully calmed down and breathing was back to normal before he pulled away. The first time he was able to get a good look at you and it’s not your usual happy go-lucky expression that he had gotten so accustomed to seeing. 

This version of you that was sitting before him was heartbreaking to witness as the eyes he loved so much were glazed over with sadness and the lips that always wore his favorite smile, trembled like any second they would release those same noises that he heard from earlier, that he now marked top of his list of most hated sounds.

Taking your face in the palms of his hands, his heart shatters into pieces at the fresh set of tears trickling down your face. Ushering them away with his thumbs, he leans in and plants a long and tender kiss against your forehead before resting his there and praying to God that he never had to see you like this ever again. 

“Let’s go home.” He says in the silences of what turned out to be the boy's bathroom. Withdrawing himself from you, his hands laying claim at your hips and pulls you off the counter. 

“What about school?” Your voice sounded rough in which you coughed in attempts to soothe your throat. 

“You seriously think I’m gonna let you go back out there and watch you force yourself to make it through the rest of the day?” He tilts his head whilst looking at you as if you had lost your mind. 

“I don’t know what I would do if I saw another person put their hands on you again.”

Having to go through all of that and experience your first panic attack at just fifteen years old. Not only that but also having someone who you thought was your friend, turn on you without a second thought and for five years you never knew why until now.  

Reminiscing on it, a newfound feeling of anger boiled in the pits of your stomach as you sat up infuriated. Another reason why you told yourself you wouldn’t show up to that party was, so you didn't participate in giselle’s stupid little game.

Because you were above treating wooyoung like he was some prize to win unlike her. And despite what she’s done, as crazy as it sounds, also out of respect for whatever feelings she truly had for him.

But fuck that because now you were solely thinking about the person she was and the person she still is til this day. Whether you ever got the chance to confess to wooyoung or not, you’d be damned if you sat back and watched your best friend be with someone of the likeness of her. 

Shooting up from your bed and nearly toppling down on your face because you forgot that you still tangled up in your blankets, but you steady yourself and made your way over to your closet.

Party clothes, party clothes, party clothes chanting to yourself as you shuffled through your option, trying to find something decent enough to wear and somewhat go with the theme of the night.

But nothing. Absolutely nothing. Cursing yourself for not going to the mall with belle when she offered. But then again, you didn’t think you would be going to the party. 

Thinking for a short moment, you remembered that belle had a bunch of extravagant dresses across the hall that you could wear for the night. You would just shoot her a text and let her know that you were borrowing one. 

Dashing through the hall, making a straight way for her room, only to be stopped dead in your tracks by three knocks knocking at your door. You stare at it confused when knowing the majority of the campus right now was at the party probably already wasted and dancing to some trendy pop song that was currently charting. 

So, who could it possibly be?

The knocks became more persistent, and you realize that you were still standing there like some deer caught in headlights. Letting out a huff, you pivot over towards the door and throw it open.

There stands san with his adoring smile and glasses perched high on his nose as he invites himself in. 

“What are you doing here?” Closing the door behind you, san looks around the place as if he’s never been here before, before turning his attention back on you with his hands behind his back. He was dressed rather handsomely, black slacks and a black long-sleeved top with a cutout of a heart in the center of his chest, showing off bits of his pecs.  

“To see you obviously.” He answers like it wasn’t the most obvious thing in the world. “Didn’t see you with your girls tonight so I figured you’d be here.” 

If he noticed, you wondered if wooyoung did too?

Giselle was probably over the moon right now by your absence and to that you to roll your eyes internally. 

“I was actually on my way out.” Shuffling your weight between both feet awkwardly under his intense stare. 

“Oh? And to where if I may ask?” His cocks to the side with a certain tease laced in his tone, giving you the sneaky suspicion that he already knew and seeing if you would come out and say it. 

To his surprise, you did since there was no point in hiding it. There was nowhere else to go as nothing was open at this hour beside the late-night pizza joint that was a little way out from campus. Plus, they only delivered. 

“Don’t tell me that’s how you’re going?” He waves a finger at your current state. You were dressed in a pair of pink hello kitty shorts that couldn’t even be classified as that as they were fitting you more like boy short underwear, and the matching pink crop top. A blush fanned over the back of your neck as you suddenly felt inappropriate but to be fair, how were you supposed to know that he was coming over?

“I was just in the middle of trying to get dressed before you showed up.” You murmured while hanging your head to hide your embarrassment, but san didn't seem bothered at all. He just laughs and grabs you by the shoulders, pushing you in the direction of your bedroom. 

“Well, it’s a wonder that I showed up just in time. Let’s go get you ready to look drop dead gorgeous."

‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊

San was actually a lot of help, more than what you wanted to admit. While you scrambled about through your makeup to come up with the simplest look, san hummed quietly to himself whilst curling your hair. Shockingly doing a better job than you ever did. You make a mental note to ask him about it later but for right now you were more focused on finishing and getting out the door. 

“So,” he starts, catching your eye in your vanity mirror and letting go of a freshly curled strand before picking another section up and starting again. 

“What made you change your mind?” 

You thought it over, debating if you should tell him. He already knew about your crush on wooyoung and everything that happened back in high school so why the heck not.

“Just thought about some stuff from back then. More specifically about that day when all this mess started and how some friend I would be if I let someone as terrible as giselle be with someone as wonderful as my best friend.” “Your best friend whom you also love?” He sneaks another peek up at you in which you swatted his thigh, causing him to laugh out loudly. 

“Focus on what you were doing before you burn my hair off!” You can’t help but laugh with him as you both were finishing up on the final touches. You used setting spray to lock in your makeup and he runs his fingers through your hair to loosen the curls just how you liked. 

However, there was still the question that was gnawing in the back of your head if what you were doing was wrong and could be considered to be selfish? You know you said to bump her feelings, but you can’t help but wonder if that makes you no better than her by disregarding hers? 

“What are you thinking about now?” San’s voice brings you back to reality that you hadn’t even realized you had escaped. The setting spray still being held in midair is probably when he noticed. 

“San,” chewing your lip before meeting his eyes in the mirror like he did with you. He hums and rests his chin on top of your head, nodding to go on. 

“You don’t think I’m being selfish do you? I mean yes what she did to me wasn’t right but she still has feelings for him too.” 

“I don’t think you’re being selfish. Knowing what kind of person giselle is, the way I see it, you’re just looking out wooyoung. And if it were me who was in this position, I would want a friend like you to do the same thing for me.” 

He gives you a reassuring smile then stands to his full height, maneuvering around you so that you could be face to face. He lets out a chuckle and shakes his head before saying, “You know, he was quite upset when you wouldn’t answer back to his messages this week. I haven’t seen him like that since that day.”

If you didn’t already feel bad for leaving him unread, knowing that he was upset about it just made you feel ten times worse. You didn't do it because you were upset with him but because you needed time to think.

Seems like that’s the only thing you found yourself doing since yuqi came by that day, and yet you still couldn’t wrap your head around any of this.

Realizing that you had spaced out again and well passed being dressed. You stood up and gave one finally look at your appearance in your full-length mirror. That reminds you too– you had to let belle know you were borrowing her dress. 

“You look beautiful.” You hear san from beside you after hitting send. He’s smiling at you softly and takes your hand to spin you around.

“C’mon now. Let’s go show your lover boy.”

‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊

Just like you thought. The pictures on twitter didn’t do any justice to what you were witnessing before your eyes.

The entryway was decorated in a variety of pink and red heart shaped balloons, all the way til you reached the main area. The room was much bigger than you imagined. It was lit in a dark hue of red lighting and specks of white lights dancing around like disco effects. Probably from the spotlight machine that you were waiting to pick up with wooyoung the other day. 

From the high ceilings, there hung a total of three chandeliers with beautiful light fixtures and strung with heart shaped garland connecting one to the other. There being a second floor too that was packed with people who, from what you were able to tell, were nursing solo cups while engaging in conversation. 

The bottom floor where you and san stood, across the way was a stage. Assuming that’s where the tunes were coming from being that you could see speakers, and this floor being just as packed as the top except these where dancing. 

“How did we do this year?” San juts his chin out while wearing a proud smile. Knowing he was referring to the setup. 

“Outstanding as always! Gotta give it to you fraternity boys, y'all sure know how to throw a party. I wasn’t expecting this place to be this big on the inside either. What was it before?” 

“It was an youreold study hall. The administration office was gonna have it torn down and paved for more parking space so more students could park on campus and not have to use the parking garage as much.

But we made the pitch to them if we could use it for tonight before they did and the money we make, split half to give back to the community and the other to help pave it.”

And being that you both were standing right here right now, you could only assume that the administration office agreed with them.

The idea actually wasn’t bad. Thinking about how so many students with cars would appreciate that and would be able keep a couple bucks in their pockets.

You're sure the next batch of students who would be coming after you graduate would too.

Your eyes wandered around the room for a second time, wanting to see if you could spot the girls so you didn’t burden san with the responsibility of babysitting you the whole night.

It was partially his party after all. With all the planning that went into, he should be able to enjoy it. 

Standing on your toes to see better into the crowd– and that’s when you saw them.  

Tucked away in a far corner, on a lounge sofa. You watched her as she leaned into him to whisper something in his ear, in which he responds with his infamous witch laugh that you swear you could almost hear though the music was blasting. 

You knew that they were going to be here together and even mentally prepared yourself on the drive here that you weren’t going to be bothered by it. But standing here and seeing them like this versus visualizing it in your head, your heart sunk to the depths of your stomach like someone had hung a millstone around it. 

“Hey.” San calls out from beside you, gently placing his hands on your shoulders and turning your focus away from them to look at him. 

Leaning you in towards him, “I know what it may seem like but I think it’s worth telling you that the only reason he’s here with her tonight is because he wasn’t able to get a hold of you and ask you to be his date.” He spoke loud enough to be heard over the music but still only where you could hear.

As a result, your eyes tripled in size, staring back at him and waiting for him to say sike. But it never came. His eyes held a sternness with the same set line between his brows, causing your heart to feel like it was crawling back into its place. Only except it wasn’t and trying to burst through your chest instead. 

And for a second, it gave you a burst of hope that maybe, just maybe, things possibly falling in place for you. But when you look back across the way and see how cozy they looked, that all went away in an instant.

He saw it too, that twinkle dwindling like a shooting star. He can only squeeze your arms in comfort. 

“How about I go and get us some drinks. Wanna come with?”

He tries to lighten the mood but you shook your head,

‘I’ll stay here until you come back.” Wrapping your arms around yourself, seeing that the punch bowl was kinda near where they were sitting. You weren’t ready for him to see you yet. Not until you fully thought about what you were going to say to him. 

San nods, giving you a reassuring smile before disappearing into the crowd. 

Now standing there alone, you felt out of place while watching everyone carry on around you like they were having the time of their lives. Parties were never your scene as you always found yourself whenever wooyoung or the girls dragged you to one, you spent majority of the time being like a fly on the wall as everything unfolded in front of you. 

Being bumped into from behind, you nearly tripped over your feet. Catching yourself, you got ready to turn around and apologize to whomever for the accident though it wasn't your fault.

You come face to face with someone who you haven’t seen in a long time.

“Didn’t expect to see you here.”

There stood manon, sipping on her beverage while keeping eye contact with you.

Your blood ran cold as alarms began to go off in your head. You then felt another bump into your back, looking on both sides of you and seeing rose and some other girl who you recognized but never learned her name back in high school. They all wore smirks as they surrounded you, making you feel small. 

“What are you doing here anyways? It’s typically considered pathetic to show up to these kinds of things alone.” She tilts her head, almost like she’s demanding an answer from you. And you timidly gave her one stupidly, like you had lost all your backbone. 

“I-I came with san.” You stuttered like some fool, mentally kicking yourself. 

She nods in response and takes another sip of her drink. “Well that was rather nice of him. Taking pity on you and all.”

Her saying that flipped something off in you for a small second. Wanting to slap that drink right out her hand and show her not to talk to you that way. Your hands curling into fists at your side and shaking as you restrained yourself, remembering that it was only one of you and three of them. That switch immediately turned back off.

“Be so fucking for real now. You and I both know that you’re not really here for san. You’re just using him to get what you want. But let me make something very clear.” She passes her drink to rose before stepping dangerously closer to you. Your noses almost touching as your breath quickens in the back of your throat.

You dared to not move an inch to prove that you weren’t afraid of her though on the inside you were feeling the exact opposite. 

Scared shitless as your brain began to pull back the scene from high school when you were cornered in the hallway. 

“Stop daydreaming while you’re ahead because it’s never going to happen.” Her voice was low and threatening, and that amused glint that once was in her eyes, long gone. She then takes her hand and grabs you by under your chin, acrylic nails digging into your cheeks.

You winced and head followed in the direction that she turned it. Back on wooyoung and giselle who were still in the same spot. 

“You see that? Look at them. Look at her.” She forces you to watch them get closer than they were before, causing your eyes to sting with tears but you held them at bay. Not wanting to give her the satisfaction of seeing you cry. “My best friend is finally happy and getting the attention she deserves from him. 

For so long she lived in your damn shadow and couldn’t even get him to look twice in her direction because you were in the way. And if you think I’m gonna let you waltz up in here and take this moment away from her, you got me dead wrong.” She finishes and shoves you away from her with force, causing you to stumble back and fall on the floor.

Clutching your hip in pain, you bit your lip to silence your cry. You held your head down and your hair framing around your face, shielding you from their faces as you let the tears fall freely, unable to hold them back. 

“I know the fuck you did not just put your hands on my best friend!” You heard a voice shriek from across the way, heels clanking aggressively against the tile as they got closer. Peaking through your hair, you see that it was belle, nvee and chaeryoung hot on her heels.

You watched as belle and nvee lunged at manon, starting a big fight before you and the party soon realizing what was happening as the girls were now on the floor. People pulled out their phones and began to chant ‘fight.’

Chaeryoung helps you stand on your feet, fixing your dress that had ridden up. 

“Baby stop!” You hear another voice coming from behind you, panickedly. Yunho being the first to appear and san coming second, breaking through the crowd to break the girls up.

It was a clear hassle for the two men as the five girls were reluctant to let go of each other. Spitting curses at one another. The boys were finally able to break them up, all of them huffing and puffing with their hair and dresses all out of whack. Yunho even in the intense moment, fixed belle up and san doing the same to nvee. 

You were still holding your jaw and chaeryoung by your side, shielding you protectively in case of another outbreak. 

“What the hell is going on over–”

Seeing wooyoung then rushing to the scene and of course giselle was right behind him. But your eyes only lock with him as this was the first time you were seeing him in three days. You swallowed nervously as you noticed a flicker of something dark in his eyes as he stepped closer to you.

His jaw tightening and nostrils flared, seeing how you were cradling your face like you were in pain. 

“Did you get hurt?” He asked though he could clearly see that you did. 

You were too afraid to answer him because you recognized the look he was giving you. The same one he had long ago when something similar to this happened. 

“Let’s go.” He reaches forwards and pulls you with him. Only to be stopped by a hand. That which belonging to giselle. 

“No wooyoung! Don’t go with her!” She burst out at him, surprising her own self by how loudly she just yelled at him. Wooyoung only turns his head in her direction with the coldest of cold looks.

“Get you and your friend things and go home.” 

Was all he said and turned on his heels with you behind him, following him out of the party and into the night.

masterlist || <previous - next>

pairing jung wooyoung x fem reader Genre smau! f2lvrs w crack, drama, slow burning??? mid cursing

Synopsis "Finally confessing your feeling to the guy you've had a crush on since middle school. Only one problem... your ex best friend has a crush on him too. In the end, who get the guy??"

all dates/ timestamps in pics are irrelevant to the story

taglist 🏷️

@istansquirrels @miniature-tragedy @domfikeluva @marvolos @santineez @ateezswonderland @bellybellasblog @zzenkha

written by yeorisanaxox. No reposting or translations/ Leave a like and reblog w [feedback is much appreciated]✨