#more than seven sentences monday | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

koqabear · 1 year

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love fool ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

♫: Seven, Jungkook // Lovefool, The Cardigans // I only want to be with you, Tommy february6

“In which Yeonjun is more than willing to show you the lengths he’ll go for you.”

yeonjun x fem!reader

Genre: established relationship, inspired by “Seven” mv, fluff, angst, smut

Word count: 10.6K

warnings: don’t take this story seriously pls. it’s ridiculous. yj is clingy. and emotional. and a bit pathetic. the mc is avoidant… and a bit of a bitch ! Lack of communication smh, a bit toxic if u squint ur eyes but it’s supposed to be cute idk (seven mv type toxic skdjdj) yj is a frat boy & a himbo (pick a struggle, pls), arguing, mc has acrylic nails, use of the phrase “boyfriend-girlfriend” bc i’m obsessed w it

smut warnings: mean dom!mc, sub!yj, (mentions of dom!yj) service top!yj, unprotected sex, manhandling (m. rec), hairpulling, name calling, (bitch, stupid, slut, etc) pet names (baby, good boy), dry humping, biting, marking, scent kink (?), scratching, dumbification, dacryphilia, forced orgasm (kinda), multiple orgasms, overstimulation, yj rambles. a lot. breast play, handjob, humiliation, creampie, subspace, implied oral (f. rec) (lemme know if i should add anything!)

Notes: fucking hate arguing with men w/ pretty puppy eyes like i will fuck the shit outta y-

Yeonjun hates when you’re mad at him. It makes him feel guilty and leaves him with a gross feeling in his stomach, pouty and annoying as his friends are always left to deal with the mess.

It doesn’t happen often— he tries his hardest not to make you mad, always saying yes and going above and beyond with you— he loves to please you and make you happy, which is exactly why it hits harder when you look at him like you never want to see him again.

“I don’t want to see you around, don’t talk to me!”

But sometimes, he just can’t help it.

He seriously doesn’t know what he did wrong— there were no anniversaries forgotten, no plans he stood you up on, no petty arguments— and yet, here he sits, sinking into his couch and burrowed in blankets as his friends try to get him to come out of his cocoon, all with no success.

“Is she mad at you again?” Beomgyu asks, his voice muffled despite sitting on top of Yeonjun— literally, he couldn’t feel his legs— and he hears him groan at the sight of Yeonjun nodding under the mass of blankets, cursing quietly to himself and undoubtedly rolling his eyes, “dude, what did you do?”

“I don’t knowww,” Yeonjun cries out, throwing the blankets off him and onto Beomgyu as he whines— he watches as Beomgyu flails about for a second, running his hands through his hair as he continues to stress about you, “she— she said she didn’t wanna see me again, but I miss her…”

“Fuck, she’s probably just saying that because she wants space— dude, are you crying?”

“What if she was breaking up with me?” Yeonjun asks, and Beomgyu is amazed to see the way his wide eyes are welling up with tears; god, he’s actually crying now, the sight childish and unhinged as he watches his (older) friend sniffle and hiccup through his sentences, “what if— what if she— she, she, she really meant it— god, I don’t wanna break up, I don’t even know what I did wronggg!”

“Okay, okay,” Beomgyu grimaces, watching the way his friend breaks down before his eyes; his hand is stiff and awkward as it pats Yeonjun’s back, trying his best to comfort him, wincing at the way Yeonjun only cries harder, “It’s… probably nothing, I’m sure she’ll talk to you again tomorrow, or once she’s calmed down.”

“You think?” Yeonjun asks, peeking through his hands and up at Beomgyu with sparkling eyes, full of hope as Beomgyu can only crack a nervous smile.

“Yeah,” he says, patting Yeonjun’s back again in reassurance, “Yeah— just, be patient, okay?”

Patient is the last word one would use to describe Yeonjun.

-ˏˋ♡ˊˎ-

MONDAY

This is it.

Yeonjun has been waiting all weekend for this moment (Or just Sunday, to be more accurate), restless on his feet as he finds himself pacing back and forth— he’s nibbling at his lip nervously, arms sore and tired from the weight of the gift he holds in his hands; a bouquet of your favorite flowers, pristine and in full bloom— it’s large and quite heavy as it practically covers his face, but Yeonjun knew that a small bouquet would do nothing to show his love for you.

He would try to talk to you as soon as your class ended. He needed to know what he did wrong, and he sure as hell would not do it again. You didn’t text him after the argument, and it only left him uneasy at the thought of you really wanting to end things.

He didn’t want to lose you. Not like this.

Admittedly, he got a bit ahead of himself— he’s been waiting outside for the past half hour, arriving much too early as he stood out in the hall awkwardly— at some point, he tried peeking into the small, rectangular window next to the door, hunched over slightly and pouting as he scanned the room for you.

When he spotted you, he was delighted to see you had already been looking at him.

He couldn’t contain the wide smile that stretched across his face, waving at you excitedly in hopes you’d do the same— unable to realize that the whole class was now looking at him, he was confused to watch the way your face screwed up into an expression of sheer embarrassment, shielding your face with your hand and looking away as some students began following his line of sight.

Why did you do that? You were ignoring him, and it hurt like a bitch as Yeonjun frowned. His mind was racing as he began wondering what he might’ve done wrong— he was so focused, in fact, that he failed to notice the professor blocking his view, his reaction time much too slow as his eyes flickered up to meet the man’s gaze. Flustered, he backed away quickly, his face heating up as he bowed in apology— he hugged the bouquet close to his chest as he did, mumbling out a soft sorry the man probably couldn’t even hear.

You, on the other hand, could hear the way your professor laughed at Yeonjun’s actions, absolutely mortified by the way he turned around and began to joke to the class, saying that “It looks like someone here has an admirer,” whilst looking in your direction, your classmates laughing along before he went back to his lecture.

Shit, this was so embarrassing.

Yeonjun is so fucking stupid, you cry to yourself, peeking over at the doorway in hopes that he took the hint and left— but no, he definitely didn’t, because you could still see his figure through the window, leaning against the wall and holding an item the size of his whole upper body close to his chest.

The last thing you wanted to do was go outside and see him— but that’s exactly what happened anyway, even if you lingered behind once class ended in hopes that Yeonjun would get impatient and wait— patience was never his strongest virtue, after all.

But for you, anything could change.

This is exactly why you find him outside the door, face hidden with what is, to your surprise, a large bouquet of your favorite flowers.

Fuck, you seriously don’t want to talk to him right now. Gritting your teeth, you use this moment to sneak past him, a slight guilt tugging at you as you look back, spotting the way he seems oblivious to the fact that you’ve left already.

Looking back was your first mistake.

Because Yeonjun, in a truly creepy fashion, is almost able to sense it, whipping his head to you and perking up at the way you only walk faster— then begin sprinting, refusing to look back again once he starts chasing after you.

“Baby,” you hear him call out to you, the ridiculous rustling of his bouquet slightly muffling his words as his footsteps thud against the tiles; for an athlete, you’d expect him to catch up to you already, but you quietly pat yourself on the back for the slight head start you gave yourself.

“Baby, wait!” he continues to yell, ignoring the strange stares from those passing by, “Please, let me talk to you!”

“I don’t wanna talk!” you growl out, your emotions taking over as you remember why you’re mad at him, “leave me alone!”

You’re outside now; you’re a huffing and sweaty mess, but you refuse to slow down for even a second, the threat of Yeonjun hot on your heels fueling your stamina.

“Can you please tell me what I did wrong?” He yells, exasperated as he watches you run off the sidewalk— you’re attempting to lose him, but countless running drills and morning runs have prepared him for this moment— without a second thought, he’s following you, attempting to peek over his— inconveniently large, he must admit— bouquet, watching the way you simply continue to run, glancing back every once in a while to see if he’s still there.

“Please, can we be civil and talk about this?!” his words have you turning around to send him a glare— instead, you stumble to a stop as you watch Yeonjun trip, eyes widening at the dramatic sight before you.

He’s fallen flat on his face, a puff of petals blowing up around him as you wince— he’s face-first into whatever’s left of the flowers, the rest of the petals fluttering in the air around him and falling delicately on his figure as you stare, the place eerily silent save for the chirping birds and rustling leaves.

He doesn’t say anything— he doesn’t make a sound, doesn’t even attempt to get up, left splattered all over the grass as you stare at him in slight concern.

“Yeonjun?” you call out uncertainly, shifting on your feet as you pause. He doesn’t respond— he’s left frozen on the ground, and you’re frowning at the sight as you slowly make your way to him; you approach him slowly, as though you were approaching a wild animal, tense in your movements as you lean in to observe him.

“Did you die?” you ask quietly, taking in the way he still hasn’t moved. Not an inch. You feel more concerned than you want to admit, crouching down in front of him as you bite your lip in worry.

“Do you hate me.” the sudden words have you flinching, staring down at Yeonjun, who’s still eating dirt and flowers. You frown, scoffing at the way he weakly reaches out for you— swiftly, you slap his hand, watching the way it flops back onto the ground.

“No— yes— a little,” you stutter out, angry at the way you bounce between responses just from the mere pathetic sight of him.

“Can you forgive me?” he asks, the words muffled as it takes you a minute to decipher what he may be saying— you can’t help but roll your eyes at his antics.

“For what?” you ask, picking a petal off his back absentmindedly as you wait— if he could answer properly, you might consider giving in.

“For existing.”

God, Yeonjun was such a sap. It has you biting back a smile as you resist the urge to stroke his hair, mused and riddled with petals from his grand gesture— but his answer was not the one you were looking for, and you’re standing back up and readjusting your clothes without another word.

“pleaaaaseee,” you hear him whine, watching the way he shrivels up into a ball— then, he’s sitting back on his legs, whipping his head up and looking at you with wide, teary eyes.

“Please take the flowers with you at least,” he pouts, thrusting the bouquet— or, whatever was left of it— up at you with pleading eyes.

Pressing your lips together, you sigh; a moment passes before you’re taking the gift from him begrudgingly, ignoring the way he perks up happily at your action.

“I’m still mad at you,” you hiss, and he immediately deflates at your words, “Don’t visit my class like that again. Please.”

He says nothing, left to watch as you turn your back to him and walk away; he has yet to get up, his heart pounding against his chest as he watches the way you hug the flowers close to you, shaking your head at the state of them.

This was… progress.

But you’re still mad at him.

-ˏˋ♡ˊˎ-

TUESDAY

Visiting you in class was a big no.

Visiting you in general, however, wasn’t off-limits.

You don’t want to talk to him? Fine, he can understand. In fact, he won’t talk to you at all— a feat much greater said than done— but hey, he always loved staring at you anyway.

Well, it’s a little hard to stare by the way you’ve propped up textbooks around your face like a fort.

He’s staring. He’s still staring. You can practically feel his puppy-eyed gaze burn into your brain telepathically; no matter how hard you try to focus on your work, it’s become damn near impossible with the way you can feel Yeonjun’s presence, your neck beginning to ache from the way you’ve remained ducked down this whole time.

It was easy to deal with at first; you chose not to do anything the moment you saw Yeonjun emerge from the staircase and onto the top floor of the library— otherwise known as the quietest level.

He wouldn’t be able to talk to you without disturbing the peace of others— and potentially being asked to leave— so you decided to not make a scene and go back to studying, even when you felt his eyes lock on your figure and beeline to you.

He sat across from you first. Though, you were quick to move, pretending as though you were looking for a book as you quickly ran away to the other side of the library. You felt the way his eyes followed you the whole time— he looked like a kicked puppy, and damn did that stupid tactic of his always work, because you even felt yourself pausing for a second, wondering if you should give in and talk to him.

But, you are a horrendously petty person.

You were holed up in some random corner. You didn’t even know there was a table there until today, the spot so secluded and quiet that you silently celebrated getting him off your trail.

It was peaceful— for like, a good ten minutes.

You didn’t think much of it when you first heard it; footsteps, slow and calculated as they rounded about the bookshelves. You could hear the sound of books being pulled out clear as day, though you chose to ignore it all and keep focus on your assignments instead.

After a moment, the footsteps disappeared.

It was back to being completely silent. And, in your bored state, you began to look around the area you were huddled up in; curiously, you allowed yourself to walk around, reading the spines and pulling out books that seemed to pique your interest even slightly.

There seemed to be another person here as well— maybe it was the same person as before, or maybe it was someone new— you didn’t pay mind to it nonetheless, continuing your journey as your eyes locked in on a particularly colorful book.

Slowly, you pulled it out— on the other side, you watched the book adjacent to yours slowly get pulled out as well, and a smile tugged at your lips at the odd coincidence.

Then, your eyes met with Yeonjun’s.

His gaze filled with admiration was only returned with a mean scowl from you. You were quick to shove the book back into its place, storming off to your table without a moment’s hesitation.

Yeonjun was quickly able to find your hiding spot— one might think you could cry from the way you buried your face into your hands defeatedly, refusing to look up from your dark refuge as the sounds of a chair scraping against the carpeted floors met your ears.

That’s how you found yourself here, ignoring what people might think as you hide behind your fortress of textbooks. You didn’t feel good staying in a secluded area with Yeonjun— not because you thought he might try to do anything— but because you were afraid of your own resolve crumbling, especially after you’d spent so much time trying to ignore him.

You wonder if he’s still here. Who are you kidding, of course he’s still here, though you can’t really bring yourself to check and see for yourself.

After a while, you hear scribbling sounds.

You can’t hide the way you jump as a piece of paper hits your head, folded into a perfect heart and landing in front of you with a dull thud.

Open me :( it says, and though you wish you could say you were strong enough to ignore it, you definitely aren’t.

Can you pls let me look at u at least?

You don’t get much of a moment to process the message. Another paper lands directly in front of you, shaped into a heart and scrawled with the same words as the last— slowly, you open it, dreading what might be written inside this time.

I miss you so so so so so much.

You shake your head at his words. Sliding the paper to the side, you ignore his request, choosing to focus on your work instead of giving in to his silly tactics. After a moment, you wonder if you’ll be getting another paper— instead, nothing happens; the sigh of relief you let out is almost comical, your body relaxing a bit as you allow yourself to wonder if he’s finally left.

That was your second mistake.

Because after a few minutes, another paper hits you. It’s another heart, and you find that you don’t need to open it this time, the message scrawled on top for easier access.

I’m sorry.

Another paper flies over your fortress.

I’m sorry.

Then, another.

Pls forgive me.

Then another. And another, and another, and another.

Pls, I hate making you mad. I feel so gross and sad rn. I seriously can’t go a day without you. I miss you sm, pls :(((

You feel like you’re under attack— the way he continues to throw paper after paper is rhythmic and almost impressive, the endless stream of hearts covering your keyboard and forcing you to sweep them to the side after seconds.

It’s useless to study. How can you, when Yeonjun keeps throwing his apologies at you? It’s stupid and childish and is enough for you to take your textbooks down, your jaw clenched and your eyes pointed in a sharp glare that has Yeonjun pausing in his actions.

There��s a small pile of hearts next to him.

Neither of you move— he’s frozen mid-throw, his eyes widening as though he can’t grasp the fact that you’re actually looking at him— even if it’s filled with rage and annoyance.

Slowly, the corners of his lips curl up— you can’t find it in you to react as he throws the paper in his hands, feeling the way it smacks right onto your forehead before it falls to the table.

Can I show u how sorry I am??

You don’t seem to think of the consequences as you reach for your bag in the seat next to you— devoid of anything except a few pencils and your hoodie— and throw it at him, watching the way he yelps in surprise, your bag spilling out it’s few contents all over the floor. The sound is enough to have the people around you glancing at your table, curious or angry at the sound of the ruckus.

You’re worked up and huffing as you watch Yeonjun scramble to gather the spilled contents of your bag, watching as he stutters out whispered apologies between his actions.

“Excuse me,” the hand on your shoulder is firm as you twist your head to look at the librarian, your expression falling at the realization of what you’ve just done.

“I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

Whipping your head around, you meet eyes with a sheepish and guilty Yeonjun, gritting your teeth as he holds out your bag for you to take.

Wordlessly, you snatch it from him, shoving your computer and the rest of your items into it before you’re turning around to face the librarian; you whisper out a soft “I’m so sorry” as you bow in apology, waiting for her to leave before you’re facing Yeonjun again.

I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to, he mouths to you, though you ignore it all as you choose to whack his shoulder with your very-full bag instead; the pained whimper he lets out has you gritting your teeth in irritation, watching the way he pouts up at you as he rubs his arm pathetically.

“Don’t pull this shit again,” you hiss out, storming off before he can get another word out.

There goes all his progress.

-ˏˋ♡ˊˎ-

WEDNESDAY

Today has been an oddly nice day.

It’s nice— too nice, you wonder, pondering what may be different enough to have you walking with a smile on your face, appreciating the beautiful weather in a light mood.

A guy your age is leaning against a tree up ahead. He holds a bouquet of roses, and you smile at the way he seems to be passing one out to every person that passes him. That’s so sweet, you think to yourself, and you can’t help the way your stomach twists in anticipation the moment his eyes meet yours.

“Would you like a rose?” he asks you, his blond hair shining under the sunlight as he sends you a bright smile— you don’t hesitate to say yes, taking the flower from him with a cute thank you!

The flower is in full bloom as you twirl it between your fingers absentmindedly. The smile on your face is seemingly permanent as you make your way to your favorite cafe, though as you think back to the interaction, you can’t help but wonder if you know that man from somewhere.

It isn’t until you stop at a crosswalk that you notice it— there’s a tag on the rose, and though you initially thought it was just a price tag, you realize that it’s something else; pausing before you cross the street, you take a moment to tilt your head and read it, feeling your jaw drop as your brain registers the words in disbelief.

Yeonjun says he’s sorry.

“What the fuck,” you mutter to yourself, ripping it off without hesitation and shoving it into your pocket— you definietly recognize the man from earlier, you realize— that was Hueningkai!

You roll your eyes at Yeonjun’s weak ploy to talk to you— you can’t help the way it leaves you irritated as you stand in line to order, trying your best to recite your regular order to the barista with a smile on your face, the man before you giving you a dimpled smile before he’s off to make it.

By the time you get your order, you’ve calmed down— you’re quick to exit and make your way back towards campus, using this small break between classes to study again. (without Yeonjun around, hopefully.)

Your fingers are absentminded as you trace over the printed sticker on the side of the cup that has your order printed on it, glancing down at the text before you take another sip.

Yeonjun is really sorry.

…What?

You were more unnerved than anything. The lengths Yeonjun had gone through to communicate almost concerned you, though all you could do at this point was rip the sticker off and shove it in your pocket, ignoring it like the other one. You wracked your mind for answers as you began to wonder if you had seen that barista anywhere else, and after a moment, you settled on the vague conclusion that you think you’ve seen him in Yeonjun’s frat house before.

He’s so annoying, you sigh to yourself, rubbing at your temples as you fear an upcoming headache.

You’re startled back to life at the sight of a puppy running up to you— you’re frowning at the sight, unsure of what to do as it stops right at your feet, jumping up on you and barking excitedly— almost like it recognized you— squinting, you observe the dog.

Oh god, you think to yourself, realizing with dread that you do recognize this damn dog.

“Matcha, who let you out,” you huff, leaning down to scoop the tiny dog into your arms— in the distance, you can see someone running in your direction, though you choose to ignore it as you notice Matcha’s brand new collar.

Yeonjun misses you more than anything.

The words are wrapped around his collar, leaving you to throw your head back and groan at the sight; the footsteps are much louder than before, and you’re looking forward again as you spot yet another familiar face.

“Beomgyu,” you sneer, shoving Matcha into his awaiting hands. All he can do is laugh sheepishly, muttering out what a coincidence! Petting Matcha, he pauses, giving you an expectant look that only leaves you confused.

“Could you forgive him?”

“Go away!” you say in return, weaving out of his way and practically running off to the library; you can hear Matcha barking at you, though you choose to ignore it as Beomgyu’s calls of your name fuel you further.

You feel out of breath by the time you finally enter the library, finding the nearest help desk and beginning to rummage through your bag for any books you need renewed— the librarian simply smiles at you patiently as he waits, adjusting his glasses before he quickly turns around to get something— by the time he’s back, you’ve laid out your books for him, thanking him quietly as you watch him renew them quickly.

When he slides them back towards you, you frown— there’s a bookmark on top of your small stack of books, laminated and shiny under the lights as you pick it up to get rid of the glare— reading it, you can already feel the need to tear it, though it seems as this cheeky worker is already one step ahead of you.

Yeonjun just wants to talk to you again.

Three ways to better communication in a relationship:

The glare you send the worker— Taehyun, his name tag reads— is lethal, though he doesn’t seem to be affected by it as he simply sends you an innocent smile. Without another word, you gather your books, shoving them into your bag as you turn to leave.

“Ignoring him won’t solve anything,” he calls out quietly, though you don’t seem to appreciate the advice by the way you don’t even bother to turn back and react. Instead, you walk right back out, storming home as you type on your phone furiously.

my baby :((

stop using others to relay messages damn it!!!

my baby :((

and don’t use matcha against me you loser!!!!!!

Through his end, Yeonjun is just happy that you’re texting him— though, the mean name is not much appreciated.

Choi Yeonjun.

can you pls let me talk to you instead?

You don’t bother opening the notification.

That was your third mistake.

-ˏˋ♡ˊˎ-

THURSDAY

Today has been relatively peaceful. You have yet to be bothered today— no Yeonjun, no Matcha, and certainly none of his friends.

Maybe because he was aware of your plans today; you did tell him a while ago about your reunion with one of your friends, always chatting his ear off about how excited you were to finally see her again—it slightly warms your heart to know that he actually listens to you.

Well. Most of the time.

“You’re fighting right now?” Tzuyu asks, leaning forward in her seat with wide eyes. You didn’t expect this sudden change of topic, but you can only nod grimly in response, watching as she sighs in dismay at your situation.

“Wow, you guys never fight— at least, not to this level,” she’s deep in thought over your relationship as she frowns, crossing her arms over her chest as she stares down at her empty plate— you both chose to forgo dessert, and now you wait patiently for your check.

“Well, what are you guys even fighting about?”

“It’s just—“ you’re cut off by your server placing the check in between the two of you, thanking him with a smile on your face before you’re freezing; you’re unsure of what to make of the plate that he places before you, stuttering out unintelligible sentences that you didn’t order… whatever this was.

“Free of charge,” the man says, before bowing politely and scurrying away; you’re barely able to get a word out before you huff in defeat, looking back at the treat in front of you as you take in Tzuyu’s amused laughter.

“What?” you ask, frowning as you watch her turn the plate towards you— you’re left a bit speechless by what you see, mouth falling open as your brain attempts to comprehend how you should react to this.

It’s dessert— well, more specifically, three full scoops of ice cream, the caramel drizzle and other toppings decorating it to make it look like a cat; more specifically, a sad cat. All along the plate, more caramel drizzle decorates it to form a sentence.

I miss you. Please, talk to me. YJ.

Your head snaps up in the direction the waiter went in; looking out the small window of the kitchen door, you spot none other than Yeonjun, his eyes widening before he’s ducking out of the way like a deer in headlights.

“How the fuck did he get back there?!” you cry out, running a hand down your face in disbelief— but no, one more glance back in his direction is enough to catch him peeking at you again, flinching in surprise before he’s ducking out of your sight once more.

“Who let him in there?” you hiss, placing your head in your hands as Tzuyu merely laughs; you ignore the way she begins to dig into the dessert after you express that you won’t touch it, humming happily that it was a sweet gesture.

A moment’s thought is able to remind you where you are— in Beomgyu’s older brother’s restaurant, of course.

Defeatedly, you open the checkbook to offer to pay— though the price has your eyes practically bulging out, reading and re-reading the strange excuse of a check this waiter has brought to you.

Your meal was free.

The only thing you read on the paper was a poor excuse of Yeonjun replacing the food items with “i miss you”s and “i’m sorry”s, the sight baffling you as Tzuyu turns the check towards her in curiosity.

“Interesting,” she hums, closing the checkbook before she’s fishing for tip money, “Are you sure you wanna lose a guy like him?”

You take a second to think her question through.

Yet another mistake on your part.

-ˏˋ♡ˊˎ-

FRIDAY

Remembering what happened today is enough to have your head hurting— so, you’ll keep it short.

You were working— working, minding your own business, prey to unsuspecting events— when it happened.

Fridays were always rush days. Maybe that’s why you didn’t think to pay attention to your surroundings, to the blasting music, the yell of your coworkers calling out drinks and names, or to the endless chatter of the customers around you.

You should have paid attention— maybe, if you did, you would’ve been able to spare yourself the embarrassment— another mistake of yours, if you will.

The break of music from the radio was not what caught your attention— radio hosts do it all the time, speaking in between songs with useless chatter as they find a song to play next— no, what did catch your attention, however, was the eerily familiar voice, and worse, the eerily familiar message he broadcasted all over your local station.

“This next song is called Seven,” he spoke, smooth, suave, and relaxing as the track rolled in quietly in the background, “a song about a man more than willing to show how devoted he is to his to his partner— ___, come home, the kids miss you— well, more like Matcha, but still.”

You could feel your coworkers freeze around you. You could feel their gazes slowly drift to you, could feel the way customers got a good look at the decorated name tag you once showed off proudly.

“Is— is he…?” your coworker whispered beside you, watching the way you caved into yourself in attempts to hide your nametag, “is he that frat boy you were talking about?”

“No.” you say, avoiding everyone’s gaze as you focus on making your drink instead, “No. That’s not him. This isn’t about me, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“___, I’ll keep waiting for you patiently. Have a good shift today.”

Christ!

Your coworkers could only laugh lightheartedly at his words— they found it cute, which was even worse for you, because all you could wonder was how the fuck he was able to get into the broadcast station— this time, you seriously couldn’t figure out any ties between him and the place.

“Looks like he won’t give up,” to say you were horrified at the way a customer told you this was an understatement, her eyes alight with amusement as she spoke to you with a tone so genuine you almost thought she was in on it— fuck, maybe she was— “if anything, you should turn him down soon before he goes too far.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” you breathed out, tired of these constant antics as you thought over her words, forced to go through the rest of your shift pretending as though Yeonjun hadn’t broadcasted his pleading message to the whole city— well, more like anyone who was listening to the local radio station willingly.

You feel like you’re on The Truman Show, or something.

-ˏˋ♡ˊˎ-

SATURDAY

You were scared to talk to Yeonjun.

Scared— why were you scared? You don’t know why, but you couldn’t bring yourself to send him a text message, pacing around your room like an idiot instead as you wondered what you would tell him.

Would you talk? Would you finally break up with him?

The way your stomach sank with dread at the mere thought of the second option was enough of an answer for you— no, you shouldn’t break up with him.

However, it was storming today— there was no way in hell you would be going outside to meet him in such weather, so you opted to psych yourself up to send him a text message asking to meet up instead.

You were pacing around your room again when you noticed it.

There’s a bright umbrella outside— shit, you recognize that umbrella, you realize with a heavy dread, walking up to your window and pulling your curtains open as you stare out in dismay.

Why the fuck is Yeonjun outside right now?

It’s perfect timing, the way his umbrella raises to show his figure; oh my god, you think to yourself, biting your lip as you take his expression in, he’s crying!

This was not your intention. You never meant to hurt Yeonjun like this, but you also were not ready to see him yet— so, with a slight pang in your heart, you shut the curtains again, leaving just enough of a crack to make sure that he’ll leave.

Instead, he stayed there. In true Yeonjun fashion, squinting up at your window in hopes that you’d at least tell him to go away. Instead, he watched as you peeked through the crack of the curtains, his heart fluttering slightly at the way you thought you were being discreet with your actions.

Slowly, Yeonjun turns his phone to you; there’s writing flashing by in his phone, though you have to squint your eyes and wait for the whole sentence to roll by to see what he’s trying to tell you now.

I know you don’t… want to see me… right now but I … seriously just need… to know what I … did wrong.

God. Fuck. This whole “ghosting” ordeal was harder than it should be when someone like Yeonjun was involved.

It’s been like… a week and you… still haven’t talked… to me.

Oh, the guilt is seriously eating you up right now. You weren’t supposed to ignore him for days on end, but each time Yeonjun reached out for you, you couldn’t control the way you ran away in return, still hurt by the things he didn’t even realize he did.

You’ve finally gotten a good grasp of his obliviousness.

I’m sorry… I love you… I love you… I love you…

Only three words are rolling by on his phone now. You think you’ve gotten the gist of what he’s trying to tell you as you sink to the floor, out of sight and exasperated as you reach for your phone to make a call.

“Hello?”

“Please come get Yeonjun. He’s outside my apartment in the freezing rain.”

“Uhm, let him in then?”

“I— I can’t,” you mutter sheepishly as you feel your face heating up, your stomach sinking as you hear Beomgyu scoffing on the other side of the line, “I don’t want to talk to him right now. Not like this.”

“Then I guess he’ll stay out in the freezing rain.”

“He’ll get sick!” you say, and it’s only now that you feel stupid for this push and pull you’ve created, “please. I’m begging you.”

“You need to talk to him.”

“I want to. I will.” you say, placing a hand on your forehead as you sigh, “Tomorrow.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

A pause. Then, you hear rustling, and the sounds of Beomgyu grumbling quietly to himself.

“I’ll go get him,” he says, and you can feel yourself sink further against the wall in relief, “you better not back out on your word, okay?”

“Okay.”

You hope you’re not making a mistake.

-ˏˋ♡ˊˎ-

SUNDAY

This is awkward. You feel awkward. You probably look awkward, too.

Yeonjun, for once, looks just as awkward and tense before you. His whole body is rigid as he sits on your couch, feeling more like a stranger in your home than the man you’ve spent the past few months with, the way his eyes wander around making you feel like it’s his first time here.

“Yeonjun,” you sigh out, catching his attention as his eyes zero in on you immediately; you feel nervous under his gaze, unsure of what to say as your brain begins to stutter, your mouth opening and closing in hopes that a proper sentence will come out.

“What did I do wrong?” he cries out, snapping you out of your troubled reverie as your eyes meet his— they’re glossy, and you’re afraid he might just start crying again if you look away, “can we start there?”

“You— you seriously don’t know?” you ask, bewildered by his question as you sit back on your couch— Yeonjun simply shakes his head reverently in response, and you’re blinking owlishly at him as you stare at him in disbelief.

“We didn’t have any arguments before this,” he says, nibbling on his lip as he thinks back to the moment you yelled at him, tearing his arm off you as he attempted to keep you from running away, “You just snapped at me then disappeared— I, I want to know what I did wrong, at least.”

“Yeonjun you—“ you’re dragging a hand down your cheek as you clench your jaw, taking a second to breathe to not snap at him again, “that’s the problem, you’re just so— so oblivious, I seriously thought you’d be able to put two and two together by now!”

Oh, oh this is embarrassing; you should not be getting worked up right now, your hands immediately coming up to hide your face as you hear Yeonjun cooing out your name softly— he’s next to you at the speed of light, attempting to take your hands away as he quietly tells you to breathe in his stupid, calming voice.

“You’re always at those stupid parties, you stupid frat boy—“ you’re stuttering through your sentences, the heat in your face humiliating as you feel your emotions finally tumbling down, “and I know I told you I’m okay with it— I am, I really am— but what I’m not okay with is how fucking flirty you are!”

You can feel Yeonjun’s hands stiffen; slowly, his mouth drops in shock, his face beginning to pale as he realizes just why you’re mad at him.

“I’ve told you— time, and time again— that, that I don’t like when you feed into people like that, that you never reject advances and tell them that you have a fucking girlfriend,” you know he never means it in a harmful way. You know that, nine times out of ten, Yeonjun doesn’t even realize those advances are happening, but it’s always just as painful to watch, knowing that charming attitude and cheeky voice is exactly how he got you, “and it just makes me feel so… so stupid and jealous and unwanted!”

You feel out of breath by the time you finish. Though you remain silent and try to calm yourself, you instead begin to feel more anger festering inside you as you take in Yeonjun’s face, full of dread and realization as he begins to think back to how he was acting back at the frat party that caused this mess.

Yeonjun was used to people acting the way they did around him. It never fazed him, and most of the time he simply followed along because he found it fun. No, he never thought of having anyone else but you, you’re his everything— though, he does realize how inconsiderate he’s been of your feelings now.

“Baby, baby, I’m so sorry,” he says, his words genuine and filled with guilt as he cups your face gently, “I didn’t know.”

“Fuck!” Your response is unprecedented as you shake his hands off you, pushing him back and forcing him to lay across the couch as he looks up at you in surprise. He’s unable to do anything as he watches the way you throw your legs on each side of his waist, grabbing a fistful of his shirt and tugging him up as you sneer at him.

“That’s your problem, you just don’t know—!” pushing him back on the couch, he lets out a soft oof! unable to help the way his stomach swirls in anticipation of your next move, “You’re just too stupid, you don’t know anything unless someone spells it out for you!”

Shit. Yeonjun has never seen you like this, frustrated and restless as you shift above him, your eyes alight with rage as you begin tugging your hoodie over your head; his eyes widen comically at the action, shifting nervously under you as he realizes that oh, you’re not wearing a bra.

“You’ve seriously left me wondering if you’re even taking this relationship seriously, it’s ridiculous!” Yeonjun feels like he’s been left on autopilot as he lets you tug him up again; he’s sitting up, hands hovering precariously as you glare at him, the sight enough to have him gulping nervously.

“I— I do,” he stutters out, watching as you send him an accusing look, “I do, I do I do, I take you so seriously, and fuck, I haven’t been thinking of anyone but you all week.”

“Yeah?” you ask him, patronizing and unexpectedly mean as you look down at him, “You never fucking act like it.”

“Yes I do—!” he yells out, though it’s cut off by the way you sit down firmly in his lap, a hand threading into his hair and yanking at the roots as you tug his head back cruelly, “I’ve shown you this whole week just how much I think about you…”

Yeonjun is hard. Painfully so, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen him get turned on so quickly— it’s enough to have you laughing breathily, tugging on his hair again and listening to the way he only lets out a high whine in response.

“What you’ve shown me this week,” you hiss, bringing him close to you, your lips grazing against his as you speak, “is that you’re a desperate bitch that doesn’t know how to be patient.”

“You were ignoring me,” he fights back, letting out a breathy wince at the way your grip tightens on his hair, “you’ve been so mean to me—!”

Yeonjun doesn’t get another word in on the matter. The way you bite his lip ruthlessly and sneak your tongue into his mouth has you feeling the way he practically turns to putty under you, his cheeks just as red as his lips as he gasps against your own, feeling the way you begin to grind against his cock without remorse.��

“Me? I’ve been mean to you?” you wonder out loud, hands running down his chest before you’re tugging his shirt up; you don’t bother taking it off as it rests against his chest, leaning him back and running your hands over his skin as you take in the way his stomach twitches in response. “do you know how many people think they’ve actually got a chance with you, all because you refuse to use common sense and say, oh, I’ve got a girlfriend!”

Yeonjun shakes his head; there’s no way your words are true, especially when he’s literally obsessed with you. But of course, you’re always right— which is exactly why you’re fueled to rake your nails down his skin, leaving him to hiss and twitch at the feeling of your acrylics digging into his stomach and leaving bright, red scratch marks— acrylics he paid for because he thought they were pretty, the reminder only making his cock twitch pathetically.

“There’s no one in this world that has a chance with me but you,” Yeonjun insists, pouting at the way you only scoff at his words, “I’ve never done anything to fuel other people’s strange fantasies.”

“God, you’re stupid,” you say, and Yeonjun thinks he must’ve lost his mind from the way he can feel a whine building up in his throat, “and to think I found that endearing.”

“You’re so mean,” he pouts— though he’s quick to regret it, letting out a loud cry as you begin grinding against him, able to feel the warmth of your pussy through the thin shorts you wear, your breast bouncing from the way your body begins to move.

“You don’t like it?” You ask, tilting your head to watch as he merely shakes his head in response— all you can do is plant yourself to where you can feel his length pressed up against your slit, throbbing against you as you pout at him in false pity, “no you don’t like it, or no you do?”

“I— I…” he doesn’t know how to respond; it seems as though Yeonjun hasn’t figured out the response for himself, but you can feel it from the way his hips buck up into yours, stuttering and without rhythm as he remains defenseless under you.

“You do like it,” you say, mocking at the way he only whimpers from the feeling of your nails digging into his hips, “Feels nice to be on the receiving end, baby?”

Fuck. Fuck, oh fuck, this was strange and new and Yeonjun was definitely enjoying himself more than he thought he should, a melted pile of remorse and love as he pathetically waited for your next move, doe eyes staring up at you as he felt his mouth part, unable to say anything as he gave in to the mean look you sent him.

“Been waiting patiently for me, hmm?” you ask him, thinking back to his earlier words as you watch him nod eagerly in confirmation, “So you bothering me every day of the week was you being patient?”

“I just wanted to talk,” Yeonjun whines out, chest heaving at the way you begin rolling your hips against his, your rhythm firm and dangerous as he feels weak moans leaving him like a stream, “but you— you kept avoiding me, I wanted to get some confirmation that you didn’t break up with me that day…!”

“Yeah?” you mock him, your voice just as whiny and breathy as his as you lean down to him; placing your hands on his chest, you tilt your head, grinding your cunt against him in a way that has him panting and looking for someplace to grab onto, “and did you get your answer?”

Yeonjun doesn’t even think he registered what you said. All he knows is that the way you’re sitting on him is genuinely cruel, especially with the way he hasn’t felt your body against his in so long. His mind is muddled and he can feel himself losing control from the way his hips begin to buck up, his brain going blank except for the thought that he hasn’t felt you against him in what seems like ages, his body so pent up with frustration that he can’t help but chase after the slight pleasure you offer him.

Yeonjun’s mind has blanked out. You can see it in his face, the way it’s twisted with pleasure as he fails to respond to you, body bucking up into you so wildly that you have to steady yourself with two hands pressed firmly against his chest, your balance getting screwed over at his attempts to fuck up into you.

The feeling of your warm hands is enough to bring Yeonjun back, eyes widening in realization as his eyes meet yours, clouded with so much need that it has Yeonjun slowing his pace immediately.

“Fuck, fuck, wait,” he stutters out, eyes widening at the way your cunt is practically leaking onto him— he can feel it through the layers of clothes, “wait wait wait, I’m so— ah, please— so… sososo close, baby, please…!”

“Wait?” you echo, brows furrowing as he nods frantically in response, “thought you didn’t like waiting?”

“No, please, please,” he whimpers, though his hips don’t stop their mindless rutting into your warm cunt, “please, don’t wanna come like this, wanna be inside you.”

“No?” you repeat, the mocking tone of your voice making his eyes screw shut, “why don’t you stop then? It’s all up to you.”

Oh, of course he can stop— though, that doesn’t mean he will, your hips slowly grinding against his as you watch the way his mouth falls open, not a sound falling past it before his hips buck up into you wildly— slowly, you feel a warmth spread beneath you, Yeonjun’s eyes screwed tightly as tears begin to peek from the corners.

“Nooooo nonono, no, not like this,” he cried quietly to himself, ever the hypocrite as his hands fly to your waist, riding out his orgasm with loud, shameless moans.

“Oh, my baby,” you say, pouting at the way he apologizes to you under his breath, “Is that it? Are you done now?”

“No, not done,” he’s quick to respond despite his rattled state of mind, looking up at you through bleary eyes.

“No?” you hum, taking a moment to watch him carefully.

“No,” he repeats, breathless as his grip tightens on your hips— even through the sensitivity, you can still feel his hips roll up into yours, quiet whimpers and whines leaving him as he does so— though, he can’t find it in himself to stop, at least not with the way he has yet to feel you around him.

“God, this is so pitiful,” you say, frowning at the way Yeonjun struggles to sit up underneath you; you’re cupping his face as he looks up at you, teary eyes and flushed face unable to say anything as he simply leans into your touch— the way you coo softly has him pouting, and you can’t resist the urge to hover over his lips, teasing him with a smile as you brush over them, placing chaste kisses that only have him chasing you for more.

“What a good bitch,” you hiss, feeling the way his hands have wandered up to play with your breasts, obsessed as always as his fingers tug and circle your nipples, eager to feel them harden under his touch, “doesn’t matter how many times you cum, hmm? Just need to make me feel good?”

“Yes, yes yes yes,” he babbles, wincing and moaning at the way your lips have begun to wander along his neck, nipping and sucking and leaving enough marks that a person could spot from far away with ease; the way your teeth sink into his skin practically has him crying, and he can feel his heart pounding against his chest the moment he feels you pause, your nose nuzzling into the spot behind his ear, your breath ticklish on his skin as you laugh.

“Are you wearing my perfume, junie?” You mumble, hearing the way he can only whine in embarrassment; he doesn’t answer you, and you bite at his earlobe softly as you wait, silently demanding a response as his hands fall to your hips, gripping them pathetically as though his life depended on it.

“I missed you,” he repeats, the words making you roll your eyes as your hand finds itself in his hair; you’re tugging at it, tilting his head and exposing his neck to you as you begin to nose along the column, closing your eyes to confirm if this is really your scent, “couldn’t smell you on my clothes anymore, love your scent s’much, ah…”

His neck has always been sensitive; that’s exactly why you choose to focus on it so much, not leaving until it’s covered with your marks and his tears have run down them, his soft sniffles making you glance up as you take him in, overstimulated and a mess as he bites his lip in an attempt to quiet himself.

“Too much, baby?” You coo, running a hand through his hair and pushing it back comfortingly, watching as he shakes his head adamantly, his wide eyes shiny and tear-filled as he looks up at you.

“No,” he mumbles, wrapping his arms around you and tugging you towards him; his face is buried in your chest, and you can’t hold back the gasp you let out as his mouth immediately attaches itself to your breast, plump lips sucking at it as his tongue runs along it, messy and spit-filled as he looks back up at you, grinding you into him with weak whimpers, “want you to use me, you can do anything you want to me, just wanna please you.”

“Such a good boy for me, junie,” you say, his eyes fluttering close at your fond comment. “Are you gonna listen to me, for once?”

“I always listen to you,” he insists, and you feel irked by his words as you scoff.

“Like hell you do,” you sneer, easily angered as he shrinks down from your cold gaze, “Show me then— strip.”

Yeonjun is eager to listen, eager to please; you don’t think you’ve ever seen him get undressed so quickly, kicking off his pants and throwing his shirt off in some random direction as he looks up at you expectantly, his cock a mess and already beginning to harden as your eyes fall to it.

“Hard already?” You muse, watching the way his cheeks blush red at your comment. Your hand is teasing as you wrap your fingers around his length, your perfect nails shining under the light as you slowly begin to move up and down, the cum from his previous orgasm guiding your movements as he begins to twitch under you, crying softly at the overstimulation.

“Guess you weren’t lying,” you sigh out, finger swiping over his throbbing tip as you hear him yelp at the feeling, “just a cute body for me to use, hmm? You’re nothing but a dick for me to get myself off on?”

Yeonjun is mindlessly agreeing with you— your words are clearly affecting him, his cock leaking and throbbing in your hand, making a mess of it as his head falls back, throat displaying all the marks you left on him earlier like a trophy.

His head is snapping back up the moment you sink onto him. You’re warm, tight, and so fucking wet, his body jolting at the feeling of you clenching around him, taking him inch by inch as he feels the way your walls stretch to adjust to him.

“Fuck…” you hiss, your arousal practically dripping on him from how good he feels— “Yeonjun, shit.”

“Waiiittt, wait, oh god, no— don’t say my name like that, fuck,” Yeonjun begins moaning, your lips quirking into a smile as you watch his eyes screw shut, already knowing what’s coming from the way he holds onto you tighter, head buried into your chest as he tries to still your hips.

“Hmm? What’s wrong?” You ask, feigning innocence as you roll your hips into him, moaning dramatically as you do, “Oh, Yeonjun, Yeonjun— fuck, junie, you feel so good, feel so full…”

He’s shaking his head hopelessly; you know what you’re doing to him, and he feels pathetic by the way he loses his senses the more you sink onto him, his cock twitching in you uncontrollably as he warns you to stop, stop, stop before I…!

“This is embarrassing, Yeonjunie,” you pout, feeling the way a warmth spreads inside you the moment you sit on his hips snugly, feeling him bottomed out inside you as he attempts to muffle his sounds. His ears are bright red and he refuses to show you his face as he keeps you close to him, his arms still hugging you flush against him as you feel the valley of your breasts become wet with his tears.

“Why are you crying, hmm?” You ask him, looking down to see the way he still hides his face, “You’ve already come twice, shouldn’t you be happy? You’re so easy, Yeonjunie.”

Your words are degrading, your voice cold as continue to mock him— and though you pretend otherwise, you can feel the way he ruts his hips into you with every mean comment, clearly enjoying himself more than he lets on as he lets out a broken cry against your skin.

“Fuck, are you seriously getting off to this?” You snap, bored with pretending as though you don’t feel your boyfriend clinging to you tighter as you degrade him, “You’re such a fucking slut— you get off to anything, don’t you?”

The way you pull him away from your skin is sudden and rough, a soft yelp leaving him as he’s finally forced to face you, eyes fluttering open and meeting your own, your face twisted in annoyance as you look down at him.

“Acting like a bitch in heat, already came twice from nothing,” you grit, rolling your hips against his as you watch the way his eyes roll back— your other hand comes up to grip his cheeks, digging into the flesh and squeezing them together as he pouts at you, eyes welling with tears as he feels your nails dig into him.

“Don’t you feel bad? How am I supposed to get myself off if you can barely keep your dick up for more than a minute?” Your eyes darken at the way he simply lets out a pathetic sorry, ‘m so sorry baby, “What? I don’t think I heard you right.”

Your pussy feels so good around him; Yeonjun is barely able to think straight from the way you’ve begun to bounce on his cock ruthlessly, the sight of your breasts bouncing before him hypnotizing as you jerk his head back up to look at you, towering over him and demanding as you slow your hips to a mean grind.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he whines out, his words incoherent and mushed together as you keep a hold of his face, listening as you hiss out for what? “‘M sorry for being so impatient— ah, ah, please— ngh, sorry for coming too soon, sorry for…”

He doesn’t finish his sentence. He can’t find the ability to, distracted by the way your sounds have picked up, your fingers rubbing circles on your clit as you continue to use his cock like a toy; his cheeks feel sore as he stares at you with wide eyes, watching your face contort with pleasure, your rhythm become sloppy as you feel your legs getting tired.

You didn’t think Yeonjun would pick up on it; without any warning, you find your back colliding against the couch, your eyes widening as you feel Yeonjun still settled in between your legs, cock still nestled deeply inside you; he’s still a pouty mess above you, hands gripping onto your hips as he begins rutting into you, his thrusts rough and out of control as he takes in your figure hungrily.

“Sorry for making you feel unwanted,” Yeonjun babbles, feeling you throw your arms around his neck from the sudden confession, bringing him in close as you feel his face hover above your own, “I only want you, want you to use me and mark me so others know who I belong to, I’m all yours baby— please, please please please tell me you’re close, wanna feel you come on my cock, wanna make you feel good, missed you, missed this pussy, fuck, mmh, ugh, feel so good, so good, soso good, please, baby—“

Yeonjun thinks you’re something of an aphrodisiac to him; at least, that must be the explanation if he’s able to cum the moment he feels you unravel around him, unrestrained and addicted to the feeling as he listens to your pretty sounds, practically melting as he hears your voice purring under him— so good, fuck, you’re all mine Yeonjunie, all mine…

You don’t think you’ve ever felt Yeonjun cum this much— his cock continues to twitch and release inside you even after you’ve come down from your high, the man above you burying his head into the crook of your neck as he cries softly at the feeling, unable to help the way his hips buck forward to ride out his orgasm.

This shift in dynamic is new— but it’s addicting, and you find yourself thoroughly enjoying the way Yeonjun clings to you, his head hazy and needy for your comfort as he lays on top of you, uncaring of how heavy he may be as he wraps his strong arms around you.

Missed you s’much baby, missed you, please don’t do that again, you could hear him mutter into your skin, a bit out of it as he peppered kisses along your collarbones.

“Alright, alright, I won’t,” you breathe out, running your fingers through his hair soothingly as he leans into your touch like a cat, “I’m sorry I kept running away from you.”

“But then again,” you trail off, tightening your grip on his hair teasingly, feeling the way he immediately whines softly, “you should’ve given me space when I asked you to. It was kinda cute, but don’t do that again— okay?”

“Okay. Of course. Whatever you say,” his response is immediate, not an ounce of hesitation as he stares at you with eyes shining with devotion. After a second, his lips part, and he’s hovering over you again as he looks down at you in wonder.

“Does that mean we’re boyfriend-girlfriend again?”

You laugh.

“You idiot,” you coo, placing a soft kiss on his lips, unable to control your laugh as you do, “We didn’t stop being boyfriend-girlfriend. I was just mad at you.”

“Hmm. Then, can I eat you out?” His words have you freezing, looking at him in bewilderment as he simply smiles at you sheepishly, “To like. Show you how sorry I am.”

A pause.

“…And, because I really missed eating you out.”

You sigh— and try not to show how eager you are as you nod softly. Yeonjun however, is shameless as he immediately pulls out, hissing softly at the feeling before he’s sinking to his stomach— you’re gulping at the sight.

“You’re insatiable.” Your comment doesn’t faze him— if anything, it makes him smile, his pretty eyes staring at you with enough adoration and love that you’re squirming slightly under him.

“For you, yeah.”

-ˏˋ♡ˊˎ-

On Monday, the sight of Yeonjun on campus is enough to have you spinning on your heels and running in the opposite direction. He wears nothing but a thin tank top, wondering why you’re yelling at him to cover up the moment he answers your phone call.

“Why? It’s hot outside— …and, like, I wanna show everyone who I belong to.”

(You refuse to stand by his side until he covers up—though, you can’t ignore the way his words send butterflies through your stomach.)

#txt fanfic #txt fanfiction #txt imagines #txt oneshots #txt ff #txt angst #txt fluff #yeonjun x reader #yeonjun x you #yeonjun x y/n #yeonjun ff #yeonjun imagines #yeonjun oneshot #txt smut #txt hard hours #txt hard thoughts #yeonjun smut #sub yeonjun #sub txt

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mattscoquette · 6 months

Text

𝑰𝑻'𝑺 𝑨 𝑳𝑶𝑽𝑬/𝑯𝑨𝑻𝑬 𝑻𝑯𝑰𝑵𝑮 - 𝑻𝑯𝑹𝑬𝑬 | 𝑴𝑨𝑻𝑻 𝑺𝑻𝑼𝑹𝑵𝑰𝑶𝑳𝑶

𝒊𝒏 𝒘𝒉𝒊𝒄𝒉.. a quiet introverted girl attempts to befriend her popular neighbor

cursing and arguing, matt is rlly mean in this chapter lol

2.8k words

introduction 1 2 4 5 6 7

addilyn richardson,

had spent the past three days at the sturniolo’s house working on her project with matt. they had decided to build a marble run to show how gravity and kinetic energy work. over the course of the week, addilyn had continuously tried again and again to be nice to matt. her kind efforts were not reciprocated one bit. in fact, matt had seemingly grown meaner and meaner each day she was over.

it was currently wednesday, and addilyn was in the living room with chris watching a rerun episode of seinfeld that was playing on t.v. her and matt had gotten into an argument, again, over the project. they bickered about the most irrelevant things. addilyn hated it, she just wanted to make peace with matt. especially since chris and nick were so nice to her, she felt the least she could do was try to be civil with matt. this, however, was not the case. since monday, every session they had together was filled with dirty glances from the brunette boy and endless arguments between the two. today the disagreement was about who’s name was going first on the project sheet they had to complete.

“i don’t see why it’s a such a big deal to you, matt!” addilyn had argued.

in the few short days she’s been coming over to the sturniolo’s, she’s been breaking more and more out of her shell around the triplets. nick and chris brought addilyn out in a different way than matt did. nick and chris actually listened to her, and encouraged her to speak more about her interests. and addilyn loved talking with them. if you were lucky, the most you would get out of the poor girl was five sentences, seven max if she was having a good day. but all she did with chris and nick was talk. she thought they were both so funny and genuinely kind people. with matt however, all she had done with him was argue, seemingly making her more outspoken and confident than she was the first day she was at his house. she hated the confrontation, but she was slowly learning to speak up for herself more when she was around matt, because all he ever did was talk down to her. this was both a blessing and curse, because addilyn quickly learned how short her temper was when it came to the brunette boy.

“it is a big deal, addilyn,” matt yelled back at her. she hated the way he said her name. “it makes it look like you’re doing all the work if your name goes first.”

the girl shook her head in disbelief. “you hear yourself right now, right? do you realize how idiotic you sound?”

“besides,” addilyn continued, “who gives a fuck how it makes you look? everyone in our school already is infatuated by you, i’m sure everyone will like you even more if it makes you look like you got some nerd to do your science project for you!”

matt opened his mouth to fight back, but before he could get his words out, addilyn huffed.

“save it, matt.” she said, grabbing her phone and getting up from the table to walk into the living room, where chris was. she stormed out of the kitchen as matt watched her go in disbelief. disbelief from the fact the girl who would barely speak above a whisper just yelled at him, or the fact that she was kind of hot when she was mad.

“no offense, chris, but has matt always been this much of an asshole?” addilyn asked, grabbing a handful of potato chips from the party size bag that sat between her and the the youngest triplet.

chris just laughed, popping a chip in his mouth. “i mean, kinda. he thinks he’s tough shit and has a big ego, so sometimes he acts like he’s above everyone. no one other than me or nick ever really has tried to humble him.”

addilyn sighed, looking back at the t.v. “i’m happy you’re not like that.”

“i am too.” chris said.

she smiled back at chris as he watched the t.v. show. she was about to say something else to him when she noticed matt enter the living room, standing in the door frame. he still looked pissed off, but fuck, did he look good. his arms were crossed over the white t-shirt he wore from an old lacrosse tournament he and his brothers played in a few years back. black sweatpants clung loosely to his waist, and his hair was all tousled from constantly running his slender fingers through it as he and addilyn worked. his silver chain peaked slightly out of his shirt, sparkling along with the complementary silver earrings that dangled from his ears, making his blue eyes seem brighter. it was no wonder he was so popular, even if he was a dick. the boy breath taking, and addilyn could honestly attest to that. but only to herself, she’d never out loud admit the boy who had been making her week ten times worse got her all hot and bothered.

he motioned for addilyn to come over to him. still angry with him, she ignored his request and directed her attention back to the television. matt fumed in annoyance.

“addilyn come here.” he told her.

“no.”

“god, you’re just- you’re so annoying, do you know that?” matt sputtered, stomping across the living room like a spoiled kid who didn’t get his way, and up the stairs into his bedroom. both addilyn and chris heard him slam his door. they giggled slightly at his childish mannerisms and continued watching their show.

*₊˚ 𓂃✧

addilyn ended up going home soon after matt went upstairs. she didn’t mind, though, she was fed up with his attitude anyway. the last few days they’ve been working together, she’d spend a minimum of two hours working with matt, and she felt it was already taking years of her life. the girl simply couldn’t understand how someone could be so rude all the time. every time she thought they were making progress and he was being nicer, he would mutter something along the lines of i can’t believe i’m actually letting you sit in my kitchen right now or just a plain you’re so annoying.

halfway through the second day, addilyn snapped back at him for the first time. she was exhausted from the school day, and she’d already spent an hour at matt’s making no progress at all. they were starting to get into it if they should do the project as a marble run or try to replicate newton’s cradle.

“we can’t do newton’s cradle, matt,” the girl told him softly, “that demonstrates the conservation of energy, we need to demonstrate the energy of an object when it is in motion. conservation is kind of different.”

“it’s all the same thing to me.” matt rolled his eyes. he wasn’t exactly einstein when it came to this kind of stuff.

“i’ll explain it to you again, so kinetic en-” she started, getting cut off by matt.

“addilyn i do not give a fuck,” he exclaimed, “you’re getting on my nerves, just do your half of the shit and i’ll do mine.”

“i’m getting on your nerves matt?” she spoke back to him, the loudest he’s ever heard the girl talk. his eyes went wide. “you’re getting on mine, too. you cant do your half of the shit if you don’t know what the fuck you’re doing!”

that shut him up for a good twenty minutes, until he opened his mouth to argue again why they should do newton’s cradle.

now she was in her room trying to work on some of the project, due to her time with matt getting cut short today. she laid all her notes out on the bed and sat there, phone in her hand, as she was texting nick and chris after leaving early.

from: addy richardson :)

to: neighborhood besties🏠👯‍♀️

i don’t get ur bothers issue

from: nicky🦩

to: neighborhood besties🏠👯‍♀️

sorry addy

i don’t either

from: chris👽

to: neighborhood besties🏠👯‍♀️

we should come over one day and hang out with just us three

no project work

from: nicky🦩

to: neighborhood besties🏠👯‍♀️

yessss

from: addy richardson :)

to: neighborhood besties🏠👯‍♀️

omg! that’d be so fun

i need a matt detox lol

from: chris👽

to: neighborhood besties🏠👯‍♀️

sick

we’ll come over tmr if thats cool

from: addy richardson :)

to: neighborhood besties🏠👯‍♀️

yay okay

i’ll let matt know we aren’t working tmr

from: addilyn (science project)

to: matt sturniolo

your brothers are coming to my house tomorrow, so we can’t work on our project

i’ll be back friday tho

i’ll see you in class tomorrow!

read 4:23 p.m.

*₊˚ 𓂃✧

it was the next day, and nick and addilyn were currently in their shared art class. their regular teacher wasn’t in today, so they had a substitute, and were instructed to occupy themselves by having a “catch up day.” although technically they both had something to work on, the duo opted to play hangman on the backside of addilyn’s sketchbook.

“what do you wanna do when we come over later?” nick asked, drawing an arm on the man. addilyn had only guessed one letter correctly - t - and she was doing horrible. she had one arm left to be drawn before the game ended. nick kindly offered to give the man a face, too, so addilyn had more of a chance.

“i’m not sure,” addilyn admitted, “i usually don’t have people hanging out with me a lot.”

“i would say we can go shopping or something, but i don’t have my license, and neither does chris.” nick laughed.

“it’s okay, i don’t either.” addilyn assured him. “is there a u?”

“nope!” nick told her, popping the “p” sound, drawing another limb.

art was the last class of the day, so the two chatted and continued their game of hang man (addilyn lost, the phrase was i love art class) until the bell rang, dismissing them for the remainder of the afternoon. the two of them met up with chris at his locker, and they made their way out of the school.

the three of them took the bus together, matt refusing to drive them home since addilyn was with them. he’d been ignoring her the entire day since their argument yesterday. not like he payed much attention to her on a normal day, anyway. but he had been typically giving her a small nod of acknowledgment when nick and chris said hi to her as she left the house in the morning, crossing paths briefly with the sturniolo’s. matt kept his word to addilyn and only drove her to school the one morning. when nick asked her tuesday afternoon in art why she didn’t come over to get a ride, he was fuming.

“i’ll talk with matt,” he promised the girl.

“nick, really, i don’t care.”

“it shouldn’t be a big deal, your house is ten yards away from mine. he can drive you.” nick pointed out.

matt being matt, immediately shut down nicks plea after their drive home that day. he told his brother there wasn’t enough room for her in the van, “bullshit” nick argued, because their hockey bags took up too much room in the back and he “didn’t want nick to be cramped.” nick had sighed and walked away from matt, giving up. he took the bus the next morning with addilyn.

when the three of them got to the girl’s house, they all went up to addilyn’s room. “it isn’t much..” she said shyly, suddenly embarrassed of her lack of decor. granted, she did just move in, but she had no plans to add to her room at all. the most decorative thing in her room was a birthday card her aunt sent her in the mail that was laying on her vanity. other than that, all the furniture was plain, her bedsheets were a simple white, and the walls were bare.

“it’s okay! that just means there’s always room for more stuff.” chris told her.

addilyn laughed quietly as she sat down on her bed. “do you guys want to watch a movie or something?” the two boys both nodded. “okay, you can sit on the bed with me if you want. or i can sit on the floor or i-”

“stay on the bed addy, we’ll sit with you.” nick smiled at her. she scooted over as he and chris sat on the bed with her. she picked up her remote, scrolling through netflix to find something to occupy the three teenagers. addilyn settled on the breakfast club, falling into utter shock when both boys said they’d never seen it.

“how can you have never seen this? it’s a classic!” addilyn exclaimed.

*₊˚ 𓂃✧

a few hours went by, and the three of them ordered a pizza to satisfy their hunger.

“it’s just crazy to me that there’s three of you.” addilyn had said to nick. they were all sat on addilyn’s carpeted bedroom floor as they ate the pizza off of paper plates. there was soft music playing in the background to fill the silence that would fall between them when the conversations would lull.

“it’s so normal to me, though,” chris told the girl “i’ve never known anything other than it.”

“that’s true.” addilyn pointed out.

nick nodded in agreement with chris, taking a bite of pizza and washing it down with soda. “how’s your science project going, adds?”

the brunette girl sighed, shaking her head. “fine, i guess. i just don’t get why matt hates me so much, i try to be nice. but he gets on my nerves”

“he’s just like that,” nick admitted, “he’s always been kind of abrasive. makes him a good defenseman in hockey, though.”

“yeah,” addilyn replied, her voice beginning to trail off, “i like having you two there while we work, though. it balances everything out.”

“we love having you over, addy.” chris grinned at her, pizza sauce all over his face.

“chris, wipe your mouth please.” addilyn laughed, nick joining in with her too. the duo erupted into a fit of uncontrollable giggles as chris continuously tried to clean his face, and repedealty missing the same spot over and over again. he finally got the spot, giving addilyn a slight shove.

“you were no help at all,” he told her, still smiling widely. “what’re you up to on saturday?”

addilyn breathed deeply, trying to regain herself. “nothing, probably just reading alone in my room.”

why would you say it like that? you make yourself sound so lame in front of them sometimes, addilyn thought to herself. despite their personalities being so different from matt, chris and nick were still just as popular as he was. they always were invited to every party, always sitting at the most crowded lunch tables, and always said hi to by everyone in the hallways. the biggest “party” addilyn had been in attendance for was her cousin’s tenth birthday party at chuck e. cheese, where the entire fifth grade class got invited to.

“you’re always at home reading,” nick pointed out to her, “you should come to our hockey game.”

hockey game? addilyn didn’t know the first thing about hockey. her dad wasn’t a big sports guy, not liked she would have cared to watch it with him if he were. besides, the few friends addilyn did have wouldn’t want to go with her. the only people who knew what would be going on would be on the ice, and she would have to sit there alone. and matt, too. god, he would have an absolute hissy fit if addilyn showed up to his game. she could hear his voice now, why would you invite her?

she shook her head. “i- i’m not really sure…” addilyn whispered.

“pleeeaaase addy, it would be so fun.” chris exclaimed, looking intensely at her. “you would like it, i promise. you can sit with my parents and justin, they already know you.”

addilyn paused for a moment and thought. maybe she could enjoy herself. she hadn’t gone to a school sports game ever, this would be her first. what’s the worst that could happen? after all, it was just hockey. and chris was right, the triplet’s parents did know her. and they were so nice, too. everyone in that house was nice to her, except matt. if he didn’t look exactly like chris and nick, addilyn would have thought he was just some random kid they took in from the street.

“okay,” addilyn smiled, “i’ll be there.”

chris and nick both cheered in excitement, tackling addilyn in a hug and knocking her to the floor. she laughed hard as she hugged them back, promising to be there front and center at 2:30 p.m. when the game started. as much as she loved her alone time, addilyn was really beginning to enjoy making new friends.

𝐚/𝐧: thank u all for 100 followers 😭😭 i’ve literally gained like 40+ followers since i started posting this series, i hope u all r liking it! i’ll be away this weekend and i go back to school next week so chapter 4 prob wont be out for a few days bc i still need to write more for it. but i hope u guy enjoy chapter 3!! if anyone would like to be added to the tag list just lmk! love u all <333

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: @alorsxsturn @sturniolossss @cammie4298 @bussybandit1 @amorttentia @franticroads @sturnsssbow @cams5sos

#© mattscoquette #writing 𓂃 𝜗𝜚 #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo #fanfic

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syoddeye · 8 months

Text

the introductions

ceo!price x reader / ~2.9k words

Next installment in the 141 Group miniverse. Some more familiar faces in this one.

CW: power imbalance, alcohol (mentioned), bad apologies

You wondered if you did or said something wrong. After allowing John to politely bully you into drinks, whatever mild flirtation that sprung up over cocktails seemed to fizzle by the following day. In the two weeks since, you overturned and analyzed every detail you could remember.

Mr. Price, or John, as he insisted then, stubbornly kept the conversation one-sided. It was difficult to pinpoint where things went wrong. You did not think you were a scandalous person, far from it. You supplied answers to your CEO's questions. You divulged the 'correct' amount of information: where you grew up, your parents and family, your education, and your middling career before The 141 Group. Curiously, you don't recall him asking about your personal life.

However, somewhere between describing university life and first jobs, his hand found your knee. The memory's sharp. The candlelight reflected in his eye as his features took on a roguish quality, his confident smile unwavering, even when you stuttered mid-sentence. It simply sat there, palm calloused more than an executive's hand ought to be, a gold ring cool against warming skin, but he escalated no further.

Not for the first time, you wondered if it had been a test, one you failed.

You'd thought to tell Kyle, but as nothing happened and Mr. Price moved on, you decided against it. No need to rock the boat. And Jordan wouldn't hear a whisper of it, either. Her strength was not secret-keeping. So, you moped privately and threw yourself into work as usual. Mid-quarter reviews approached swiftly, with no time for fantasies.

Then, one Friday afternoon, you find someone sitting at your desk after picking up Kyle's lunch from the lobby. No, on your desk. Flipping through last month's Vogue with an amused look is one of Mr. Price's bodyguards. A set of dark eyes flick up when you continue past nonchalantly to drop the bag of Mediterranean on the corner of Kyle's desk. Your mind races as to what's happening, but you remain composed and address the visitor.

"Can I help you?"

"I'm here to pick you up for Mr. Price's 2:00 PM."

"Pardon me?"

"He messaged you."

Brows furrowing, you stoop down to pick up your phone. A notification on the lock screen alerts you to one new DM, sent while you were downstairs.

johnprice - invisible > Borrowing you for an appointment. Bring your things, we won't be returning to the office.

You bristle. It's irritating on multiple fronts. Two weeks of nothing, now Mr. Price comes out of nowhere to claim the rest of the day? Friday afternoons are for teeing up Monday, setting the foundation for the week ahead. Kyle needs you.

"Miss? If you would," The guard gestures to your personal effects.

With a huff, you power down your laptop and quickly tidy. You button your long coat with one hand and scrawl out a note to Kyle with the other.

"That won't be necessary," The guard informs you. "Mr. Garrick is apprised."

Oh goody, you crumple the note, He's going to blow up my texts about this.

You follow the guard to the elevators, ignoring the several heads that turn when you pass. You give Jordan seven minutes before she also floods your inbox.

The ride down is awkward. On multiple floors, the doors open only for the soul on the other side to clock the guard and insist on taking the next car.

"Where are my manners," You murmur after the third stop, look to your intimidating companion, and hold out a hand. "You know my name, but I don't know yours."

"Farah," She answers and clasps your hand in a shake.

"Pleasure to meet you."

"Likewise."

Eventually, the elevator reaches the garage. The doors open and reveal a familiar car, and the taller guard stands at the ready. He smiles boyishly beneath a mustache as you approach.

"Miss."

"Hi…?"

"Alex, ma'am."

Alex opens the car door, and the low intonations of Mr. Price trickle out. He does not look up from a padfolio on his lap, turning a page with one hand and holding his phone with the other.

You climb in, give Alex a tight smile when he shuts the door, and watch him confer with Farah. She motions with her chin to a sleek, black motorcycle parked in a nearby spot. Alex rubs the back of his neck, Farah pats his shoulder, and you look away as the man turns back to the car. He takes the passenger seat.

The moment the door closes, John presses a button. A glass privacy screen rolls up, gradually darkening until it's opaque, and separates the front and the back of the car.

You act unbothered. Act.

The car departs the office's garage and joins afternoon traffic. John's volume level rises a fraction. He settles back against his seat, eyes cast out the window. Still not on you.

"If there's anythin' else, I want to know. As thorough as you can be in the next 48 hours."

You scroll socials on your phone, strain to listen, but you cannot hear whoever's on the other end of the call.

"Right, no, she's with me now."

Do not look over.

Mr. Price shifts in his seat. "Black skirt, off white blouse, green coat."

Wait. Is he–?

In your periphery, Mr. Price leans over the empty seat, and you flinch when a hand appears beside your head. It stops short, and you turn to meet eyes. His hand gestures to your hair, and you guess after a second he wants you to hold it back from your ear.

"Gold."

He is.

As if discussing the weather, Price is describing the details of your outfit to some unknown person. Evidently finished, he leans back.

The low simmer rises to a boil.

"Anythin' that happens in the next twenty, text it. I've got to run. Mhm. Tomorrow." Finally, the call ends.

Rationally, Mr. Price is not someone you should not get snippy with, so you try to sound more curious than angry. "Sir, may I ask what I'm doing here?"

He withdraws a pen from a pocket, and scratches something out on the top page. "Extra set of hands," The phrase seems to trigger another thought, and he looks at your hands clutching your phone. He indicates with the pen to extend one.

You do, despite your annoyance.

"When did you get those done last?"

You glance at the simple sage-colored manicure. It's accumulated only one chip. "Two weeks ago?"

"Hmm." He hums. "Try not to draw attention to your hands, and see to those this weekend."

Maybe the chip on the nail is noticeable, but Mr. Price is about to notice the chip on your shoulder. "Mr. Price. Please," You grit your teeth. "What am I doing here?"

"I require an assistant today, and Kyle graciously loaned you to me."

'Loaned', you do not like the sound of that. "Respectfully, that is how I ended up in this car, sir. If I'm to help you, I need to know what you need from me and how it's connected to my…appearance."

"Notes," He says too quickly. "Your notes from the proposal meeting were impressive. The conversation I'm about to have will require my full participation, so you are here, in this car, to accompany me and record what I might miss."

You fume silently. He could have said that from the start. Suddenly, it feels silly to be upset over two weeks of silence. Mr. Price is clearly a man whose attentions only come when he needs a person for something, like a tool. Why you fooled yourself into thinking otherwise, you don't know.

The car eventually stops in front of a building of Portland stone and judging by the foot traffic, it's drinks all over again: more rubbing elbows with people whose net worth could eat yours several times over while you're woefully underdressed.

The restaurant is one that's on every 'best in the city' list, with multiple stars and dollar signs. Tufted, emerald green banquettes, polished oak throughout, filtered natural light through ivory lace curtains. Even past the lunch hour, it's busy. The hostess, scarcely younger than you, greets Alex and then beckons down a side hall.

Dutifully, you follow behind Mr. Price, clutching your off-brand bag to your chest. Hiding it, like you could pass as a regular patron.

A small private room, furnished and staged with a table for two, awaits.

"Bring another chair and a side table for the lady," Price instructs, pointing toward the room's corner. When the hostess sends for the furnishings, you pluck up the courage to ask.

“You want me to sit behind you, sir?”

“Can’t have you distracting me.”

It shuts you up quick. The chair and table arrive and are arranged carefully under Mr. Price's watchful eye. You sit when he glances pointedly at the Picardy. You withdraw your laptop, with which he takes issue next. You are made to exchange it for your legal pad. Something about the restaurant being too nice a place for the clicking of a keyboard. With nothing in your lap to balance the writing surface, you cross your legs at the knee and scrawl out the date, time, and location.

John orders for you - Earl Grey and a small sampling of accompanying bites. He orders for himself and his ‘guest’, who’s yet to arrive.

You sneak a few morsels, nerves oddly creeping up on you. Between the utter lack of information and Mr. Price's exacting behavior, you humor if he’s meeting a member of the royal family or a celebrity. Busying yourself with a flowery doodle in the margins, you attempt to relax.

A booming voice tinged with an American accent from out in the hall lifts your head. Price’s too. You watch the CEO check his watch, adjust a cuff link, and stand as a handsome blond man appears in the doorway.

You hastily pop to your feet.

“Alex, good t’see you again,” the stranger drawls. Southern definitely, Texan maybe? The gentleman shakes the bodyguard’s hand, head turning slowly into the room. He spots Price first, you second.

His eyes are like John’s - blue, a flintier shade. Self-possessed with a horizontal scar over a cheekbone and a toothy grin. Confident. So much for having a singular type.

“John, how the hell are ya?” The man’s gaze shifts to Mr. Price. He extends a hand, flashing another thick silver watch band.

“Graves. Trust your travels were smooth?”

“As butter. Kind of you to ask. Say, who’s this little lady you’re hiding back here?”

Mr. Price does not turn to introduce you; he merely retracts his hand from the shake. “Assistant.”

It smarts, but Graves steps closer and reaches out. Instantly, you’re soothed. You take his hand and give your name in a tone so shy you hardly recognize your own voice.

The American repeats it, tongue running over his teeth like he’s savoring the last bite of dessert. “Pleasure to meet you, darlin'. My name is Phillip Graves.”

Oh! You know this name from the big meeting notes. He’s the—

“President of Shadow Company, at your service.”

“If you’re done chattin' up my assistant, I’m hoping we can discuss the details of the contract.”

Phillip releases your hand with a wink and joins Price at the table. The men sit, and so do you.

You are not sure when the business portion of the meeting begins, but being you, you start taking notes anyway.

Phillip Graves. Confirmed Texan. Employs lots of sport metaphors. Sprinkles the word fuck into conversation when he gets excited. Obviously an appreciator of nice suits, like Price, but clearly of an American cut. His is a dark blue, most likely to bring out his eyes, which are on you.

Hmm. Phillip keeps looking at you. Whenever John speaks, his eyes stray. You pretend not to notice, save for one or two times you catch him, and he flashes that smirk again.

He is a handsome distraction. Not enough to completely knock you off course, luckily. Not when the CEO expects another set of immaculate notes. You sip your tea to break the spell and refocus.

By the time the meeting winds down, you’re out of tea, and a stack of notes sits on your lap. Your hand cramps a little. However, you have a handle on things now - how important Project Intercontinental is to the 141 Group.

When the men stand to shake hands once more, you do, too.

Phillip nods at you, eyes dropping subtly down you while Mr Price briefly looks at his phone. “Looking forward to working together, John. Glad we’ll be seein’ more of each other, workin’ close.”

You suspect you should not heat at that, so you act like your discount purse is very interesting.

“Likewise, Graves.”

When Phillip leaves, Mr Price doesn’t move, not until Farah ducks her head in and nods.

“Sorry ‘bout that,” he rumbles, voice harsh through gritted teeth as he gathers paperwork Graves left for him.

He must be referring to making you sit behind him again. It was rather awkward. “It’s fine, sir. I heard everything well enough.”

“That's not what I mean. Wait a tick, need to make a call."

Things packed away, you examine the fineries of the space. It'll probably be the last time you're in a private room of a multiple-star restaurant for the foreseeable future. You half-listen to Price's phone call.

"That so?" He asks, pausing. "I see. Well, your idea worked. Man's got a weakness…Yes, behind me. Saw his eyes keep moving over my left shoulder."

You freeze, fingers pinching the pearly lace of a window dressing.

"Mhm. Add it to the file. I want multiple methods of putting him on the back foot and keeping him there if need be," Mr. Price sounds closer, and sure enough, he stops at the edge of your vision. He rocks on his heels once, staring through the window.

Openly, you gawk at him. The nerve. Man in charge or not, the audacity is astounding.

If he notices the building anger beside him, he does not say a word. In fact, his hand lifts and toys with the delicate trim as well.

It's childish, but you move away and retrieve your coat. You know how to get back to the office. He can't get upset with you if you intend to return to work. However, before you finish closing the fasteners of the coat, Mr. Price ends the call.

"I've got to run. Let's discuss this later."

You turn to grab your bag, only to see a large hand draped over it on the chair. "Don't recognize this brand."

He's not even looking at you. He examines the bag's strap, where it's worn thin from years of riding on your shoulder. The strap you snatch up and haul into place.

"Yes, well, forgot my Moynat at home," You snipe, forcing a thin smile.

Mr. Price simply stares at you, mouth a line framed by his beard. Then his nose twitches, mustache following. "You're upset."

Biting the flesh of your cheek, you shake your head. "No, sir."

His head tilts in a half-nod, a brow lifting, and he steps closer. "Mhm. A good assistant you may be, a poor liar, you are not."

The proximity does something. Without the dark of the copy room after hours or a drink in hand, you're vulnerable. But not cowed. "You used me. As bait."

"Not bait," He corrects in a lowered tone. "I admit, your presence and placement was predetermined but not malicious. Needed to see something."

You frown. "If I was Phillip's type?"

His eyes narrow slightly. "If he's easily distracted."

It's a shock to hear this man, a man who's been featured in various business publications a dozen times over, admit to such a scheme. Even if he doesn't come right out and say it. You lick your bottom lip and huff.

"Right. I'll have the notes typed up and delivered to your desk as soon as possible." Turning away to escape, you adjust your bag, and a hand takes your elbow.

"Let me make it up to you," He squeezes gently and steps closer again. "Kyle is not expecting you back, and the working day is almost done."

Your head turns and tilts up; he's right over your shoulder. He's got to know what he's doing, looking at you like this, gaze somehow soft yet stern. It's another invitation that leans more toward command, more instruction than a suggestion. The worst part is that you really would not mind a repeat of two weeks ago. You found the attention of a powerful man more intoxicating than any cocktail.

The hand on your elbow releases. He knows he's got you, smug man.

"Fine," You acquiesce, then push it a little. "It'll take more than a drink, though."

His eyes crinkle as he grins. "I've something better in mind."

After thanking the hostess, he leads the way back to the car. Once inside, he takes another couple of calls, and that damn hand finds your knee again. You should pull away or push it off, but you don't, not when his middle and ring fingers rub small circles on the inside of the joint.

You retreat to the relative neutrality of your mobile's screen.

When the car stops a short time later, you nearly drop the device in your lap. Outside, the Moynat brick and mortar sits, waiting.

His hand squeezes. "Will this do?"

#call of duty #john price #captain john price #captain price #price x you #price x reader #john price x you #john price x reader #john price x female reader #price x female reader #cod fanfic #cod fic #ceo!john price

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caterpills · 25 days

Text

(Six) (Seven) Some Sentence Sun/Monday

Hi all!! Thank you for the tags from @suseagull04 @sophie1973 @onthewaytosomewhere @porcelainmortal @clockwrkpendrxgon (yay for Monday-ing!!)

I've been traveling for work this week/weekend, so there has not been as much writing done as I would like and also just generally NOT being around, which bleh — but words are wording, so here are six sentences because I'm trying not to spoil too much of the last chapter of This Is More of a Comment Than a Question (and I also have a fun little art-related surprise to share when the epilogue drops!)

"I hate apartment hunting. It's the fucking Hunger Games for rentals. I might have to kill a guy to find something in my price range." "Please don't kill anyone. I'm afraid you're not fit for jail," Henry says, sitting down next to him. He hands Alex chopsticks, casually, as if he's not about to drop a nuclear bomb in Alex's lap, when he adds, "You could stay here."

I'm not going to tag anyone since it's basically... not Sunday anymore. But should you still want to participate, do it! And tag me, I want to see what you have been up to!! Have a great rest of your week friends! ❤️

#six sentence sunday #seven sentence sunday #rwrb #rwrb fic #firstprince fic #firstprince #alex claremont diaz #henry fox mountchristen windsor #fic: this is more of a comment than a question

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hippolotamus · 3 months

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Sunday Sentences 🧜‍♂️

Using this (way more than) Seven Sentence Sunday to answer some Mer!Buck asks for anon, @spotsandsocks @underwaterninja13 @daffi-990 @theplaceyoustillrememberdreaming 🧜‍♂️

Follows this snippet

By the time he’s finished his food and paid his bill there’s still plenty of daylight remaining. Plenty of time to find Evan and hopefully enjoy a brief reunion before Eddie has to go. Memories, and the ever present invisible tug, guide him back to the neighborhood near the beach house. Tourist season is over, leaving the streets mostly empty except for a few permanent residents, and homeowners winterizing their properties until the area comes back to life for rentals.

He parks in an hourly lot close to the pier, finally bracing himself for the task of calling Shannon. He could put it off even longer until he’s settled at the end of the pier, waiting for Evan. It feels wrong to mix the two worlds together, though. They’re already dangerously close.

It’s not that he doesn’t want Shannon to know, he plans on telling her, always has, but the timing is never quite right. Between getting to know each other and skipping to the babies and marriage phase, bringing up a childhood friend — who just happens to be a merperson — hasn’t managed to come up. He doesn’t think now is that time either.

With a heavy sigh Eddie dials the number and prepares to lie to his wife. Well, not lie exactly, but it won’t be the whole truth. And he’s going to tell her, so it’s fine. That’s what he keeps telling himself anyway.

“Eddie?! Where the hell are you?”

And, yeah, he deserves that greeting. “I’m, um, I’m in LA actually. Needed to take care of something before Monday.”

There’s a heavy silence before Shannon responds.

“Days before you leave, you suddenly have to take care of ‘something’,” she deadpans. “Care to elaborate?”

The only way out is through at this point, so he pushes on with the closest version of the truth he can give. “I have a friend out here, Evan, and, I don’t know how exactly to explain it, Shan. I’ve known him since we were kids and it’s been a while and I just got this weird feeling that I needed to see him. Listen, I know how weird this probably sounds, but I promise I’ll be back in the morning, and make it up to you and-”

“Eddie.” Shannon interrupts, softer this time. “It’s okay. This can’t- I’m sure it’s not easy for you. I know it’s not for me, and I’m not the one going anywhere.”

“You’re not mad?” He asks lamely.

“No, I’m not mad.” His relief is short-lived. “I’m pissed and we are having a big talk about this when you get back. But at least now I know where you are and that you’re coming home.”

“Baby, I was always-”

“Drive safe. Okay, Eddie?”

He nods, even though she can’t see him. “Yeah, okay. I will. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

tagged by @dangerpronebuddie @bi-buckrights @wikiangela @loveyouanyway @actuallyitsellie

@diazsdimples thank you loves 💞

np tagging (plus Daffi, Spots and Mic!) @jesuisici33 @rmd-writes @shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @queerbuckleys

@elvensorceress @bucksbiawakening @giddyupbuck @hoodie-buck @indestructibleheart

@ladydorian05 @lemonzestywrites @monsterrae1 @statueinthestone @slightlyobsessedwitheverything

@the-likesofus @thewolvesof1998 @watchyourbuck @welcometololaland @wildlife4life

@epicbuddieficrecs @a-noble-dragon @tizniz @diazheartsbuckley @weewootruck

@saybiwithme @bidisasterevankinard @shipperqueen6 @ramonaflow @taketheplanspinitsideways

@dangerpronebuddie @theotherbuckley @stereopticons @kitteneddiediaz @your-catfish-friend

@thekristen999 @filet-o-feelings @lizzie-bennetdarcy @rainbow-nerdss @steadfastsaturnsrings

@inell and anyone else who wants to 😘

#i could have had Shannon be bitchy but i felt like they needed some understanding #next comes Eddie’s last visit with Evan before the army #i’m preparing to cry a lot tbh #hippo writes #fic: run to the water (and find me there)#buddie wip #merperson!buck #human!eddie #seven sentence sunday #sunday sentences #make me write

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theotherbuckley · 6 months

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A very late (More than) Seven Sentence Sunday Monday

Tagged over the weekend by: @pirrusstuff @honestlydarkprincess @dangerpronebuddie @smilingbuckley @actualalligator @loveyouanyway @daffi-990 @wikiangela @giddyupbuck @evanbegins @underwater-ninja-13 @diazsdimples @your-catfish-friend @tizniz @jesuisici33 @hippolotamus @disasterbuckdiaz @cal-daisies-and-briars I won't tag anyone cause its Monday(for me) and most people have done it already but if you want to share then please do <3

Ah this is very late but i wrote this from my chronic pain!buck fic yesterday so I thought I'd share. Having a shitty week, or well idk I'm being dumb and sad but oh well here's Eddie comforting Buck which we all need.

He burrows further into the comfort of Eddie’s neck, sniffling. “There’s so much to do,” he says.

“Nothing that can’t be done tomorrow,” Eddie says, rubbing soothing circles across Buck’s back with one hand, the other wrapped softly behind Buck’s neck, holding him gently.

“I already—already put it off for so long.”

Eddie pulls Buck away from himself, noticing the way Buck naturally tries to move back towards him. “Hey, look at me,” Eddie says, holding Buck’s face in his hands.

Buck looks up at him, eyes glossy with unshed tears.

“I have these big arms,” he says, pointing to his arms as he tenses them. “I can do any heavy lifting you need. That includes washing dishes if you so desire.”

Buck huffs out a laugh, but it’s short-lived, his face falling flat as the ache in his leg grows again. He wants the floor to swallow him up and take away every drop of pain from his body. Right now he’d be happy if the floor could just snatch up his leg so he doesn’t have to deal with it. He’s just hurting, and it’s not fair.

#chronic pain buck fic #seven sentence sunday #911 abc #911 fandom #911 buddie #evan buck buckley #buck x eddie #buddie #911 fic #purple writes

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daffi-990 · 8 months

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✨ Inspiration Saturday✨

Tagged by @monsterrae1 @disasterbuckdiaz @exhuastedpigeon @evanbegins @theotherbuckley @tizniz and @diazsdimples (who tagged me for Seven Sentence Sunday but I’ll do that one tomorrow.. even though it’ll be Monday for me haha). Make sure you go check out what they’ve all shared!

Sooooo I have no idea where this came from but I wrote 1.7K for it in one go which is big for me considering lately I’ve only been getting out maybe 300-500 words in one sitting. When it’s a bit more flesh out (aka when I write the dialogue direction) it shouldn’t be more than 2.5K so hopefully I can post it sometime within the next week or two if the inspiration sticks around.

Pretty much the gist of the idea is Eddie pulls away and tries to move on after the grave scene.

Eddie had thought for a while now that he and Buck were slowly moving towards a future together. A future where they weren’t just partners at work, but in all areas of their lives.

Buck dying had almost shattered that future but Eddie brought it back, brought him back with his own two hands and silent prayers as he got Buck’s heart beating again.

Buck came to his house when he needed to escape from Maddie and her parade of well meaning babysitters. It was Eddie’s couch that he fell asleep on, finally feeling safe enough to rest. It was Eddie he began to open up to about his death.

And it was Eddie’s heart that Buck unknowingly broke in a graveyard when he started talking about how a woman he barely knew saw him.

So when Buck officially began dating Natalia, Eddie boxed up the future he saw with Buck and taped it shut, storing it deep within the broken pieces of his tattered heart.

He tried to carry on like usual, but every time Buck mentioned how happy he was with Nat it was like a knife was twisting into the wound.

Eddie needed the wound to heal or he’d bleed out, and to do that he needed space.

So he began slowly pulling away. He stopped going out for drinks with the team, stopped inviting Buck over for a beer after shift and for movie nights (unless Chris specifically asked if Buck could come over. He didn’t want to deny Chris or Buck their friendship) and kept his replies to texts short and to the point that eventually Buck just stopped texting him unless to organize a time to pick Chris up or drop him home.

He felt like they were a divorced couple sharing custody of their kid, except Eddie wasn’t haunted by the memories of a life and love together. No, he was just haunted by the possibility he let slip through his fingers, plagued by dreams of a life they could have had together if he’d just been brave enough to speak up. He’d had so many opportunities, but it never felt like the right time. Probably because there was no right time. Not for them.

No pressure tagging: @wikiangela @wildlife4life @watchyourbuck @eddiebabygirldiaz @elvensorceress @thewolvesof1998 @rainbow-nerdss @puppyboybuckley @athenagranted @spotsandsocks @spagheddiediaz @try-set-me-on-fire @devirnis @fortheloveofbuddie @giddyupbuck @hoodie-buck @hippolotamus @honestlydarkprincess @homerforsure @jesuisici33 @jeeyuns @lover-of-mine @loserdiaz @captain-hen @bekkachaos @malewifediaz @steadfastsaturnsrings and anyone else I may have missed who wants to share!

#daffi writes #buddie wip #buddie #i don’t want this one to get away from me like the Eddie breakdown fic has haha #that one is at 8K and I’m not done 🙈#so fingers crossed I can just add the direction and a bit more body and she’ll be done

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elioslover · 1 year

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Employee of the Month

EMPLOYEE OF THE MONTH [Inside] - Steve Harrington x reader

PREMISE: Steve and Robin find themselves the newest employees of Family Video- a place you are well acquainted with. With a strange history and a chance to win employee of the month at stake, your Summer is turning out to be more than you bargained for. [enemies to lovers.]

WARNINGS: n/a. (use of Y/n).

WORD COUNT: 2.3k

🎞️🎞️🎞️

Standing behind the counter, Steve took in his new surroundings, getting familiar with the space he would now regularly occupy for four of seven days for the unforeseeable future.

His eyes darting, sometimes stopping to skim over the spines of video boxes, big, bold titles of films he hadn't even heard of.

He couldn't help his curiosity from reaching out for a nearby stack of boxes, his fingers tracing along the outline of Citizen Kane.

But even with the lightest of touches, Steve stumbles back in fright just as the stacked boxes start tumbling like Jenga, scattering across the floor with a startling smack.

Robin looks over, eyes wide, her hand instinctively reaching out to swat Steve's bicep,

"We've been here for five minutes, Steve."

"It was an accident!" his palms raised in surrender,

"If you get me fired, I swear-"

"I'm not gonna get you fired, Robin." Steve sighed reassuringly,

"Oh, please. Everyone knows we're a package deal." Robin almost scoffs.

Steve geared up for a comeback, sentence still half formulated, none-the-wiser of your sudden presence as you timidly peered out from behind his towering figure, instantly catching Robin's attention.

"Hi!" you waved shyly, and Steve turned on his heels so fast his sneakers surely sparked the ground beneath him.

"Hey, you must be Y/n!" Robin greeted, and you embraced her energetic enthusiasm with ease,

"Yeah! Robin, right?"

"That's me!" she nodded, as an afterthought, gestured toward a still-startled Steve,

"And that's Steve. He's clumsy but decent enough."

You glanced his way, shy with familiarity, only giving him a moment of your time and a tight-lipped smile. Knowing it would only be so long before he remembered you, if he even did, you avoided eye contact- and that had nothing to do with the fact that you were more than aware of his pretty, pretty brown eyes.

"Hi Steve." you waved gently,

"I'm not clumsy!" the words tumble out, his cheeks flushed, scanning your face for approval.

But Steve was met with only furrowed brows, your familiar eyes disappearing beneath swooping lashes,

"I'll take your word for it." you nodded.

"Ignore him. I promise we are not a package deal," Robin reassured nonchalantly, sending him a wink.

Steve released the breath he hadn't known was trapped in his chest with such relief when any chances of further embarrassment were dismissed by the heroic timing of Murrary- known locally as the chaotic, moody, and far too nosey manager of Family Video- trudging through the front door, a melodic bell announcing his arrival.

He took his time reaching the front desk, barely acknowledging the new duo as he addressed you,

"Y/n, I see you've had the pleasure of meeting Robin and Steve." you nodded meekly.

Murray hastily glances over at Steve and Robin, "I'll give you each a schedule later." leaving no gap for a retort,

"In the meantime, Y/n will designate jobs. I'll be in my office, not being disturbed... don't fuck anything up." his eyes narrowed at Steve.

"Why are you looking at me?" Steve protested with a whine. But it's Monday, and Murray is in no mood as he walks off, entering an office off to the side, the door swinging shut behind him.

The three of you are left looking like headlighted deers, shifting on your heels and clearing your throat- it was so soft and subtle, but Steve looked at you with such haste you could easily be fooled into thinking he was paying you far too much attention.

"Okay. So... I guess I'll give you a rundown of the store?" You suggest, and Robin cheers like she was just offered free food for life, grinning at Steve as they follow you away from the front desk and deeper into the store.

Your heart thudding in synch with Steve's, unsure if anxiety or excitement is threatening to stir, but you brush it off and halt in front of the storage room, stepping aside to give the duo a good look at their new home away from home.

"Here's the back room... We store the really old or newly unboxed movies here. Mostly the room is used for taking breaks. Oh, but we have to do inventory at least once a day." you informed.

The newbies took a moment to look over the space. Steve spots a navy beanbag and decides he can definitely get used to this. Robin's eyes light up, suddenly rushes further into the room,

"What's that?" her heart swells as she points animatedly at a whiteboard hanging haphazardly against the faded walls.

The board has seen better days, smudged marker almost making it impossible to spot the words 'Wins' and 'Losses' scrawled across the top.

"Oh. I made it for the last guy who worked here, Brad. Total shitshow. And I enjoyed taking note of that." you hummed with fondness.

"No way." Robin felt lightheaded, body rushing with more excitement than she could handle- and definitely more than she had felt this past year.

"What?" Your head tilted innocently,

"I had one exactly like this for Steve back at Scoops!" Robin couldn't help it when her feet began bouncing, arms flailing around joyously.

"You're kidding!" you were sure you had just met your soulmate, meeting her enthusiasm with extra. Steve, caught by pleasant surprise, felt an ache in his arm as Robin dug her nails into him.

He sent her a warning glare, but even after letting him go, Steve still felt lightheaded, eyes darting between you and Robin with newfound terror. Tremendously overwhelmed, sensory overload swallowing him entirely as your glee only seemed to be escalating,

"I think I just made a new best friend." Robin announced.

Relief washed over you with reassurance that your new co-workers wouldn't be all that bad- well, Steve was yet to be confirmed. Speaking of Steve, your eyes met his for just a moment,

"Sorry to steal that title from you." you offered offhandedly.

"You kidding? I'm relieved!" he teased, never acknowledging Robin, focus solely on sending waves of friendship your way.

"Shut up. You love me." Robin reminds.

"But you make it so hard." he huffs.

🎞

Hardly an hour into their first shift, Steve's head- though seemingly screwed on and held in place by excessive hairspray- was clearly miles away.

And it definitely didn't go unnoticed because it was the same look he used to get during your last periods of the school day. It annoyed you then, and it definitely annoys you now.

Pausing mid-sentence, you watched him through slanted lids, frustration tingling the tips of your ears and palms threatening to itch,

"Harrington." you snapped your fingers near his face,

"Did you hear me?"

"Huh?" Steve blinked back to attention, though the dazed look in his eyes never strayed.

"Were you paying any attention at all?" you exhaled a whiny huff.

"I was!" Steve really does like the little frown that creases at your brows, indulging as it only increases.

"What did I just say?" you waited, lip tugged between your teeth, and Steve is still hardly paying attention,

"Uh-" he stutters.

"She said you need to select the customer profile before logging in the code for the video. Then you need to check if they have store credit, and after that, you need to put the cover for the video in that pile over there." Robin recited with ease, her focus still on flipping through a misplaced comic book.

"Thank you, Robin." you rewarded, eyes never leaving the spot occupied by Steve.

"Yes, thank you, Robin." he hissed through gritted teeth.

"So, the next thing you need to do is..."

Like a schoolteacher, you paused expectantly, and Steve, head bowed like your scolded student, pulled himself together and offered up a gentle reply,

"Replace this box with the other box."

"Exactly." Satisfied, you tapped his shoulder, cueing him to get up from the stool. Steve stiffened under your touch, the waves of your sternness washing over him with an unsuspecting flutter of the heart, and it only seemed to increase when you practically forced his palm open and placed the box for The Graduate, pointing toward the aisle of shelves he needed to visit.

"Robin, you said this would be fun." Steve whined, sluggishly sliding off his seat, dragging his heels as he set off to do as told.

"I'm having a great time!" Robin called over his shoulder, tilting her head to send you a sweet smile.

"Is he always this difficult?" you turned to her fully, willing your bubbling frustrations to simmer down.

"Usually he's just disinterested," Robin attempted to reassure but was clearly clueless to the storm brewing just under the surface.

"Well, that's just great," your hands found your face, cradling the nightmare that refused to end, eyes scrunched shut, elbows balancing you against the countertop.

"Getting on your nerves already, huh?" she teased.

"Is it that noticeable?" you muttered through the spaces of your fingers.

Robin stood up and made her way over to your slumped figure,

"Just a smidge." she poked at you playfully.

Your Summer was quickly turning sour. What was supposed to be easy money and plenty of days by the pool was tumbling away, replaced with unrest and the resurfacing of uncertain feelings from your formative years.

The threat of Steve taking over your space- just like he had in high school, ignorantly bumping his hip into your desk, day after day, ignoring your disappointed sighs. But unlike in high school, you feared he would bother you in ways far more blood-boiling.

"He hasn't changed at all," you muttered, seething.

"Hasn't changed?" Robin pondered, standing upright just as you decided to do the same, conspiracy in the air. Suddenly, your eyes widen with mirth and a hint of mischief, only furthering her confusion. You rubbed your scheming hands together, your brain sent into a spiral of brilliance,

"I have an idea."

With not a word more, you leave Robin befuddled, turning on your heels and heading for the backroom.

Robin stays put until she's sure you aren't making a return, and then she's hot on your heels,

"Wait up!"

Excitement coursing, Robin catches up just in time to watch as you grab an old red marker, using your shirt sleeve to remove Brad, writing 'Steve' in its place.

Stepping back to admire your work, bold and capitalized 'Harrington' staring back at you, begging for his screw-ups to rack up. Adding a squiggly separation line as an afterthought, you admired your work one last time, arms folding atop your chest.

"There. Fixed it."

"I love it." Robin cooed with approval.

"I'm brilliant."

"A genius." she commended.

The two of you stood in your bubble of admiration, so much so that neither of you noticed the arrival of Steve, stepping into the room with confusion- it had taken him a good minute to even find you.

Peering over your heads to get a glimpse at what seemed so interesting,

"What are you two on abou- are you kidding?" this was a new low for Steve.

First days were never great, but this was record-breaking bad. And when you turned to him, a cheeky smile still curving at your lips, Steve felt his bones might melt right off.

"The opposite," you informed.

"I haven't been here half a day, and you guys are already ganging up on me?"

"I mean, it was bound to happen, Steve." Robin teased.

"It's only fair." you shrugged, smile fading for good.

Steve was clearly confused now, brows cocked, shoulders stiffening. He could feel both of your eyes on him now,

"How's that?"

"You and your friends ganged up on everyone at school." you recited like it was something everyone already knew everything about.

"I-" Steve stuttered out,

"Hopefully you have thicker skin."

Steve said nothing- didn't know where the fuck to even begin as quick flashes of himself, strutting the hallways, blurred his vision, desperately trying to place the image of you within all of the chaos that was his high school experience.

But you're looking at him expectantly- or perhaps, just plain hostility- and it's only hyping Steve's unease.

Robin has whiplash, focus dashing between you and Steve, and if nobody was willing to speak up, she certainly would. Unfortunately- for Robin- Murray's voice booms through the closed door, the muffled sound of "Y/n!" seeking your assistance.

"You guys can head to the front counter. I'll be there in a sec." you sighed with relief, giving Steve a brief glance before leaving, head thumping in step with your sneakers.

"Holy shit." Robin, her mouth ajar, pranced over to join a puzzled Steve.

"I know. What the fuck was-"

"She is so cool!" she fawned.

"What?" he almost chokes.

"Why didn't you tell me you knew each other?" Robin chides as they make their way to the store's front.

"Because we don't." Steve defends.

"Another casualty of the romancer formerly known as King Steve?"

"Of course not."

Steve picks up the pace, trying to get at least a few feet away from Robin's newfound source of a summer scandal.

But she won't stop- and they both know it.

"Oh, please."

"I'm serious!" he comes to a halt, collecting whatever strength remains to convince Robin otherwise.

"You didn't try? Like, not even once?" Robin probably wouldn't believe him anyhow.

Steve could hardly care as he dropped back down onto the nearby stool, palms clenched, head hanging low,

"She wouldn't have given me the time of day."

Summer was starting to look like it might be far more interesting than expected. Guaranteed, this was less than thrilling for both Steve and yourself.

But for Robin, well, she couldn't help her giddiness from spreading throughout town, sighing with such content,

"I am going to love working here."

🎞️🎞️🎞️

[Hi lovelies! This is my first time posting anything about Steve. I've been working on this series for ages, and I've decided to make some chapters about their work shifts and some about moments out in town. Would you guys be interested in this format, with an update each week? I'd love to know what you think!! xox]

#steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington blurbs #steve harrington x reader fluff #steve harrington enemies to lovers

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alohajun · 1 year

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♡ THE SEVEN STAGES OF FALLING FOR YOUR BEST FRIEND — PARK JEONGWOO

jeongwoo x fem!reader | wc : 2k words | content : possible grammar and spelling mistakes, lowercase intended, childhood best friends to lovers, fluff, angst, swearing, playful teasing, mentions of food, crying, mutual pining (?) | request : hi can i makes request? childhood friends to lovers with jeongwoo (cut off to not spoil the plot)

ACT ONE — PROMISES

“you know, it’s crazy how one day we could be hanging out on the rooftop for the last time and we wouldn’t even know it.”

you muttered, hugging your knees as you turned to look at your best friend, park jeongwoo.

he scoffed. “like i’d ever let you stop having our daily catchup sessions on the roof,” he quipped, shaking his head. “you are stuck with me forever, love.” jeongwoo smiled, reaching out as he invited you into his embrace.

“well, good.” you chuckled, finding solace between the brunet’s arms. “because i’m not going anywhere, woo.”

“ooh, is that a promise, missy?” jeongwoo inquired, raising his brows.

you smiled, nodding. “yeah. we are gonna be besties forever and always.” you never felt more sure about anything than when you made the promise while watching the moon.

“forever and always, indeed.”

ACT TWO — OBLIVIOUSNESS

out of all the drama club traditions, melancholy mondays were definitely jeongwoo’s favorite.

it was when the drama club would get together and watch a movie that would somehow have most of their members in tears. and as sadistic as it sounded, jeongwoo enjoyed those days the most.

why, you may ask?

well, it was because there was something about you crying like a baby while being held by jeongwoo that did things to his heart.

he always waved it off as finding you adorable — which was without a doubt the truth — but there was something else to it too.

but jeongwoo just couldn’t put his finger on what that feeling was.

just like clockwork, every monday, park jeongwoo sat right beside you, enveloping his arms around you while you watched the drama club’s weekly sad movie, wiping away your tears as if it were his profession.

“why would he do that?” you cried, gripping tightly onto your best friend’s shirt. “they could’ve been so good together.”

jeongwoo nodded, patting your head softly. “could they, though?” he asked quietly. “he loved her enough to know it was the right thing to do. i would do the same, honestly,” he muttered.

you turned to look at your friend, your lips quivering at the thought of him not being there for you ever again. “don’t say that.” you teared up instantly, sobbing as you were pulled into his embrace.

jeongwoo winced, regretting his choice of words. “shit, i’m sorry. you know, i didn’t mean it like that,” he apologized.

sumin chuckled as he saw the two best friends, exchanging knowing glances with jinsik. “you can’t tell me they aren’t dating.” he raised his brows, skeptical.

“you’ll be surprised.” jinsik laughed. “that’s how they usually are.”

“like a couple?” sumin inquired, shocked at the response.

“exactly like a couple.”

ACT THREE — PROTECTIVENESS

“wow, such a gentleman you are.” you scoffed, frowning at your monitor, as you listened to the unsolicited curses from a fellow gamer. “could you speak one sentence without a curse word in it?”

jeongwoo paused his game as he looked up from his phone, brows furrowed in concern. “hey, love. what’s wrong?” he inquired, immediately at your side.

you pushed the mic upward with a sigh. “the guy’s just a sore loser. he started cursing everyone out, and when i told him to stop, he just targeted me,” you explained.

“hand over the headset, please?” jeongwoo didn’t even wait for your response, taking your headphones off before wearing them himself. “hi there. could you just repeat what you just said?”

you couldn’t help but crack a smile, amused at how polite jeongwoo was when you knew he was most definitely getting cursed out by the other guy.

“woah, dude. calm down.” he chuckled, shaking his head. “you kiss your mother with that mouth?”

“woo-” you tried to cut him off, not wanting him to get into a virtual fight unnecessarily because of you. “please.”

jeongwoo raised a hand to stop you, raising his voice as he spoke to the gamer guy. “no, man. you listen to me!” he exclaimed. “you may as well whisper in my friend’s direction; i will hunt you myself. good riddance.” he ended the game, shutting down your setup.

you bit your bottom lip, worriedly glancing over at the male. “woo, are–” you spoke, pausing when jeongwoo looked at you with furrowed brows.

“don’t let anyone speak to you like that ever, love. if they cause trouble, just let me know. i’ll take care of it for you, okay?”

ACT FOUR — COMPANIONSHIP

you let out a sigh for the umpteenth time as you felt your best friend poke your side, fisting your hand on the table to calm yourself down.

for the past half-hour, park jeongwoo seemed to find happiness in poking the side of your waist. the way he could distract you from getting your work done in class made him chuckle.

his actions earned snickers from the backbenchers, but he was more accomplished upon seeing your adorable frown every time you turned to look at him.

one more time. just one more time, and i swear–

“park jeongwoo, i swear i am this close to–” you seethed, holding your index and thumb together with just a sliver of space between them. “-ripping your fingers out of your hands, for real.”

the class fell into a pin-drop silence at your outburst, followed by your teacher kicking you out of the class along with your best friend.

despite your whining about how you did nothing wrong, you found yourself outside your class, mustering the harshest glare you could as you faced the one who got you into this mess.

you really wanted to be angry at him; you really did. but alas, one look at each other, and the two of you couldn’t help but burst into a fit of giggles.

fuck park jeongwoo and his fucking handsome face.

jeongwoo smiled. “damn, stop looking at me like that; i’m blushing,” he teased. “i might just think you want to kiss me, love.” he chuckled, his shoulders bouncing as he laughed.

“oh, you think about that a lot, don’t you, park?"

ACT FIVE — UNREQUITED

“will you just shut up and eat this, y/n?” jeongwoo sighed, not wanting to give up on his attempt to make sure you were properly getting your meals.

you whined. “woo, i’m literally carrying our team right now. one wrong move and we lose, so can’t i please eat later?” you asked, hoping he’d listen to your pleas.

“you’ve been telling me that for the last hour. i’m not falling for that again.”

“woo, please. come on, don’t be like that.”

jeongwoo shook his head, grabbing your collar as he pulled you closer. “i’m ending this game right now, guys,” he said into the headset. “i need to make sure my girl gets her meals,” he stated, and with a few clicks, he ended the game like he promised.

it made you laugh, seeing how the bare proximity between you and your best friend knocked the air out of your lungs while he seemed absolutely normal. his gestures, his words, his behavior — everything drove you crazy.

you didn’t really know why you felt like this, but then again, you knew exactly why.

“my girl, huh?” you focused on something else to distract yourself. “didn’t know i was yours.”

jeongwoo chuckled, nodding. “you would love that, wouldn’t you, love?” he quipped, clearly teasing you.

fucking hell, yeah, i would.

ACT SIX — REALIZATION

park jeongwoo sat between his friends, hands fisting in anger as he tried to register what they were talking about.

why would y/n date someone and not tell me about them?

“nah, but like, the way he asked her out was also cute, though,” sumin stated, noting the way jeongwoo’s expressions changed with every word he spoke. “with all her favorite snacks and those cute little notes.”

jinsik snickered, understanding what his friend was trying to do. “yeah, honestly, they are super cute together too,” he agreed. “i can’t believe it’s been one month since that day,” he added, instantly getting the younger male’s attention.

“wait, what? one month? y/n’s been dating him for a month?!”

“yeah, you didn’t know?”

jeongwoo scoffed. “of course i didn’t fucking know,” he grumbled, poking his tongue against the inside of his cheek.

“i mean, it’s understandable.” jinsik shrugged. “hyunwoo is a mutual friend of you and y/n, so maybe they wanted to keep it low-key in case it didn’t work out.”

why would you date one of my best friends and not tell me about it, y/n?

“no, it’s not understandable!” jeongwoo stated, raising his voice angrily. “how can y/n just date someone and not tell me?!”

“you are mad at y/n?”

“well, wouldn’t you be mad at your best friend if they were dating someone behind your back?”

sumin couldn’t help but smile, shaking his head. “actually, if i were you, i’d be mad at hyunwoo.” he shrugged. “you’ve known hyunwoo longer than y/n, so why are you mad at her?” he asked.

jeongwoo fell silent at his friend’s words, not understanding the logic himself.

exactly why was he mad at you more than hyunwoo?

though you were both his best friends, jeongwoo knew hyunwoo longer, so it was confusing as to why he was mad at you more.

“are you mad at y/n for not telling you?” jinsik inquired, raising his brows as he looked at jeongwoo. “or are you mad at yourself because all it took was a stupid lie for you to realize you like her?”

“huh, what?”

“y/n’s not dating anyone, jeongwoo. we just made it up because we know you like each other, but you were just too oblivious to notice it,” sumin admitted. “you like y/n, jeongwoo.”

yeah, i guess i like her. quite a lot, actually.

ACT SEVEN — CONFESSION

park jeongwoo stood outside your house, going over the words he wanted to tell you in his head.

after that chat with his friends, the brunet couldn't help but feel like an idiot, realizing how stupid he must've made you feel with his words and actions.

and all it took was for his friends to lie to him, for him to realize he had fallen for his best friend.

before he could gather the courage to ring the doorbell, you opened the door, having seen him standing outside for quite a while now.

for some reason, your best friend was distancing himself from you, and you didn't know why.

and now that he was finally at your doorstep, you approached him first before he changed his mind and ran away.

"woo," you softly muttered, cracking a small smile at him. "is everything alright? you haven't been answering any of my texts or calls properly lately."

park jeongwoo felt his heart break as he heard the disheartened tone in your voice, followed by the little pout on your lips.

"i'm sorry, love. i really am."

"n–no, it's alright. i just–"

"i'm sorry for not realizing it sooner." jeongwoo shook his head. "i'm sorry you had to think i never felt anything for you."

your eyes widened in shock, head tilted in confusion as you looked at the male standing in front of you.

he nodded, seeing your confused look. "i like you, y/n. and i was an idiot to not have realized it earlier," he admitted. "i like you very much."

"really?"

"yeah, we were always best friends, and i never thought i'd have to lose you to anybody. but the thought of you looking at someone else the way you look at me drives me crazy, and i wouldn't be able to live with that, you know?"

you teared up a little at his words, realizing they were truly heartfelt. you had never felt more loved by the way he looked at you, eyes filled with affection.

"so, what i'm really tryna ask is," jeongwoo paused, taking a deep breath, "would you kinda sorta maybe wanna be mine?”

“i’m yours, jeongwoo. forever and always yours.”

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ghostieeeee · 1 year

Text

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟐: 𝐂𝐎𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐀 𝐂𝐀𝐓

ᶜᵘᵗ ʰᵉʳᵉ ✄-----------------------------------------

Word count: 1.8k

Warnings: Possible spelling errors? :D

ᶜᵘᵗ ʰᵉʳᵉ ✄-----------------------------------------

The day had passed by fairly quickly, you spent your breaks cooped up in the library with your friends and Eunchae, and although classes were basically a death sentence, you managed to survive till this point at least. The last ten minutes of the day. But despite the reasonably short time, every minute seemed to drag on to become an excruciatingly tiring sixty seconds.

The classroom has become your penal institution, keeping you locked up for good as a consequence for your naivety and lack of knowledge. It felt restricting, but this was one of the limited classes you share with a friend- your dearest Kim Chaewon.

“I hate this” There she goes again, complaining about the class- she's only complaining because of her lack of understanding over the topic you're currently covering. “I don’t understand why we can’t just study this ourselves, Sir has almost sent me to sleep with this lesson multiple times!” she whisper-yells, avoiding all eye contact with the teacher himself as she jots down notes into her personal notebook.

“It’s school, Chae, most things about school are bound to get boring sooner or later” You feel yourself smile at her annoyed huff, shaking your head lightly out of habit. “There isn't that long left until you're home free”

“Huh? Where are you going after school?”

“My english partner invited me to a coffee shop so we can start our assignment together”

In the corner of your eye, you notice the sudden stop to her note-taking and the turn of her head to face you,”Wouldn’t you have started that in class with them?”

“We were planning a few things. We still need to research more and actually begin to type it out or whatever” you explain, ignoring the strange look Chaewon was giving you.

“Mmhmm… Who’s your partner this time?”

“Aren’t you nosey today?” You stifle a small laugh,”If you must know, I'm paired with Kang Haerin”

“As in the shy popular girl, Haerin?” Her voice was laced with an undertone of uncertainty and concern,”You know this could bring attention to yourself, right?”

“Yes, I'm very much aware, but at least she wants to do the project. I’d rather face minor attention than have to do a whole assignment again. Chae, I was extremely sleep deprived last time, I became almost erratic” You let out a gusty sigh,”It’ll be something quick. We agreed to get the project done as soon as possible, and that's that”

"I'm just looking out for you, you know how much I love you"

"I know, Chae, but I know what I'm doing"

You listen to her sigh. You're almost certain the only reason she hasn't pummelled you to the ground yet is because you're her friend. You have too much of a backstory together for her to just bury, quite literally and figuratively. Three years has certainly been a show in the making when it comes to you. "If this comes back to bite you in the ass I'm here for you"

"You always have been, and I appreciate it a lot. I appreciate you a lot…" You pause to glance at your friend, sharing a gracious smile with each other,"get back to your work"

"Yes ma'am," Chaewon nods, turning her attention back to her note-taking as her wrist goes into immediate overtime.

The next seven minutes dragged on by, making your every movement feel slugged as a result. Students were evidently done with the Monday hassle as most flickered between the clock on the wall and the clock on their phones. They were desperate to leave and confine within the comfort of their homes- preparing for either an early night's worth of sleep or none at all.

However, after what felt like three hours worth of agonsing torture, the same mellow ring of the school bell radiates the air, completely sending the class to carnage. Students hadn't even waited for the teacher to dismiss them. They hadn't even waited for him to finish his sentence before they were already out the door and very well down the hallway.

“Free phone?” Chaewon speaks up, nudging you slightly as she nods to the seat on your left. It was completely empty, the boy you sat next to had vanished,”I guess someone was in a rush”

“That doesn’t mean we should take it though. Who knows what's stored on that thing?” You speak with a slight disgust, putting your notebook into your bag.

“I suppose,” she grins, “but that won't stop me!”

“Hey, hey! That's not your phone to take!” You complain, trying to block her sight of the black cased device.

“I'm not going to keep it, you make it seem like i'm the villain” Chaewon rolls her eyes, her grin having transformed into a misleading frown.

You shake your head, walking past the forgotten possession,”maybe you are the villain, maybe you're not… who knows?”

“That's cruel”

“Maybe?” You stop outside your classroom, hand tightly gripping the material of your bag’s strap. “Time to socialise” you sigh, having already spotted the girl you're meeting with.

Has she told Minji?

“goodluck Y/n, you might need it”

“Thanks Chae” You're both quick to separate- with Chaewon taking off in a hurry to find Kazuha, and you staying to meet with Haerin.

It wasn't uncommon for Chaewon to scurry off to meet Kazuha, they are neighbours afterall, but you're still stuck in the state of wishing someone you know would join you to help ease your mind a little.

Friend or alone, you're still going either way.

“Are you ready?” Turning your head to the meek voice, you find Haerin already looking at you with her same stoic face. That sweet voice had almost no correlation to the way she presents herself outwardly.

“Yeah, i'm ready”

ᶜᵘᵗ ʰᵉʳᵉ ✄-----------------------------------------

Pushing past the glass door, a fresh ambience of crushed coffee beans rade your nose. The warmth from the heaters attacked the chill you had brung in with you. The late October air stood no chance here. The exterior was cloistered and closed, so many tables and such little space, but you suppose that only added to the acquaint charm of the business.

Slightly trailing behind Haerin, you make your stop at the partly busy counter, where a female from your chem class stands, her hands occupied with retying her coffee stained apron. “Hello, welcome. What can I get for you today?”

It was Jiwoo- one of your sister's other friends- they are perfect friends in all honesty, them and another girl called Sullyoon. The three of them are almost always in other people's business for no clear reason. Like you said to Chaewon earlier, you were certain they were working against you with their weird spying techniques.

“Y/n?” You hum to Haerins call, eyes connecting with the barista's apron in front of you as your throat squeezes itself shut momentarily. “I’ll just get whatever Hearin ordered” You almost squealed out.

“Very well,” Jiwoo nods, placing your order through “That’ll be eleven-thousand won please”

“I’ll pay,” Haerin declares, having already pulled out her card and inputted the pin. You had no chance to even get a word in before she had already paid for the order.

“Thank you, we’ll bring your coffees over to you when they're ready”

“Thank you” You and Haerin surprise each other alongside yourselves with the sudden synchronisation to your words. While it was a generic response, and literally anyone could have done that, it was still surprising. Unbeknownst to you both, however, was that Jiwoo had judged this with narrow slitted eyes, her mind booting and reeling in any possibilities of your strange outing. Never has she ever seen you both talk- let alone in unison. As far as Jiwoo knows, this could even be a drug deal, and obviously, you're the sourcer.

Taking your seats at a round, plastic top, table- located somewhat close to the counter- you pull out your laptops, your hand also moving to unsheath the sheet from earlier. You kept the paper in case you ever needed to use her email again- fortunately, for now, you have not.

“What part do you want to follow up on?” Haerin questions, without looking away from her screen, her mouth left to hang slightly agape.

“That sounds creepy” you mumble, pondering over your options. However, your focus lifts at the sound of a small chuckle.

Was that Haerin?

Looking up only confirmed your suspicion. It really was Haerin. Her little chuckle was a first with you, and her widening smile only made her look all that much more like a cat. The corners of her eyes were pinched as she smoothed out her shirt.

“Not in that way. I don't think you’d be able to follow a printed sentence home”

Feeling yourself smile at her lighthearted attitude, even if it may only be temporary, you respond in the same demeanour “Doesn't it technically follow me home?”

“Because it’s in your bag?”

“Yeah” you observe the girl opposite you as her nose scrunches up.

“Maybe you have a stalker…” she almost whispers.

“Should I report it?”

“Maybe… I wouldn't want some random stalker if I were you”

“Two iced americanos?! A third voice intrudes, a voice you’ve heard so many times coming from your sister's room late at night when she's on facetime with her friends. Jiwoos' other partner in crime- Sullyoon. Of course they would both work together in the same establishment.

“Yes, that's us” Haerin responds as her smile retreats back into the shadows of her more introverted personality. “Thank you”

“Thank you” you repeat Haerins' words after Sullyoon places your own drink in front of you. “So… an iced americano, huh?”

Haerins face flushes a dusty red,”I know it’s not everyone's favourite, sorry if you don't like it”

“That's alright, I’ve never had this order before” you speak, holding the beverage between your fingers and palm as you evaluate it through the glass cup provided. You rarely ever hang around long enough to stay inside of a coffee shop, so having a glass container is certainly new to you.

“Oh… well, I promise it isn't as bad as the students at our school make it out to be”

“It’s okay, I trust you, i’ll try it in a minute." Haerin nods, shifting herself back on the purpose of your meeting- the english project.

“That’s good to know, since we’re doing a project together and what not”

“I suppose I have no other choice but to trust you”

“Possibly…” Haerin trails off, quickly glancing at you before she's completely immersed in her own world.

“I’ll start on the words of Shakespeare” You finally answer her question, earning a hum of approval from the brunette.

“Okay, i'll start on modern literature then”

Was it really a necessary idea to give a bunch of high schoolers a project based on the evolution of english literature and the culture surrounding it? Probably not. But are you going to try your best to get the best result possible? Absolutely… with a little help from your new partner, of course.

You just hope nothing bad comes from this…

ᶜᵘᵗ ʰᵉʳᵉ ✄-----------------------------------------

: Dating in a high school full of love thirsty teenagers was never really something you wanted. But of course, things change- and you learnt that in more ways than one. Kim Minji, one of the more popular students. Hong y/n, probably the most invisible person alive. They couldn't possibly be dating… or maybe they could be? You never know what goes on behind closed doors.

ᶜᵘᵗ ʰᵉʳᵉ ✄-----------------------------------------

𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐔𝐒 | 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓

ᶜᵘᵗ ʰᵉʳᵉ ✄-----------------------------------------

𝐓𝐀𝐆 𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: [𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐍]

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