#was thinking about how her line where she confessed to having feelings for a coworker was never mentioned again

[mulders-too-large-shirt]

once again thinking about that moment in 02x12 where scully realizes the local detective is having an affair (and a baby) with her boss, then gets a tearful confession out of her, with the promise to never ever tell a soul...

only for the camera to immediately cut to scully sighing and spilling the tea to mulder, who looks visibly shocked. god-tier gag to me.

[gold-onthe-inside]

greylist

verb (transitive): to hold (someone) in suspicion, without actually excluding him or her from a particular activity

who? spencer reid (s6, post-JJ, pre-Doyle) x tech analyst!reader summary: when your celebratory drink with penelope is disrupted, you end up at a bar with the person you famously cannot get along with even if you were paid... until you do. based on: request by @brownbunnyb: I’m thinking something along lines of me being Penelope’s best friend and coworker and she sees how much me and Spencer bump heads and she sets me up on a blind date and the guy end up being Spencer (she does it on purpose) and we get a little too tipsy and he invites me over to his place and I stay the night and he confess his feelings bc he assumed I was sleeping word count: 3.4k a/n: r is an intelligence analyst for the counterintelligence division, and roommates with penelope, famous for not having any of the pleasance and charm that penelope does (the grumpy to her sunshine) and for not getting along with men, including spencer. i may have gotten carried away with it.

You don't get many off days in counterintelligence, but when you find a chain of coded messages about a military officer in Alaska trying to sell classified documents to the Russians, and manipulate him right into the hands of an undercover operative, you have to celebrate somehow. There aren't many easy wins in your line of work, not like Penelope who comes to your shared apartment with an arrest on her belt almost every week, and when you hear the front door close, Penelope walking in with her heels in hand, you have no doubt that she's on a high from a solved case.

"Hey, so I figured we'd leave in 15," you said, stepping out from the bathroom in a sleek black dress with a cut out by your hips, your walk stuttering at the sight of Kevin in the doorway behind Penelope, who was wincing. "And you forgot," you said, unsurprised, your hands falling from your ear where you had just fixed a gold hoop.

"I'm so sorry," Penelope cried, rushing towards you. "I swear, I swear I had it written somewhere that we were going out, but this reservation opened up at L'Auberge, and you know we've been on the waitlist for months--"

You held up your hand, stopping her. "Go," you said, with patience that seemed to be bottomless when it came to Penelope.

"I swear, I will make it up to you right now," Penelope said and you frowned instantly as she pulled out her phone.

"You don't have to--"

"Ba-bup, nothing out of you," Penelope interrupted, picking up the phone. "You're going to a bar. I don't wanna hear any excuses, you still owe me for Friday. You will be there by 7." She looked to you. "7?"

You shrugged helplessly, glancing at Kevin who just seemed amused by his girlfriend.

"Where are you going?" Penelope repeated the question, then looked at you.

"Crown and Crow," you said, knowing better than to get in Penelope's way, watching her as she repeated it to the phone, then snapped it shut, looking at you with a giddy smile.

"Okay, have fun, don't be mean, and have a cute cocktail on me," Penelope said, kissing your cheek, leaving a smear of lip gloss. "You deserve the win," she said, then promptly disappeared off to the bathroom to change for her own date.

You looked at Kevin. "Home by midnight, no more than three drinks, capiche?" you said, firmly and he held up his hands in surrender to you.

"I couldn't afford it," he said and you nodded, satisfied. You slipped into your classic black pumps, grabbed your purse, keys, and a black coat before stepping out, the door closing before you remember to ask Penelope who your date for the night was.

You're on your first drink when he arrived, almost spitting it out at the sight of Spencer as he searched the bar for Penelope. If you rush into the bathroom, maybe you don't have to deal with him tonight… but then he spots you, and frowns as he raised a hand before walking over. "No Penelope?"

"Date with Kevin," you replied, not hiding your sourness. Don't be mean, my ass. This is her making it up to me?

"Oh," he said, looking confused. "So… why am I here?"

"Evidently, Pen's playing matchmaker tonight," you said, keeping your voice even and he sighed.

"Should've figured," he said quietly, then gestured to the empty seat beside her. "May I?"

"Since you're here," you replied, sipping your rum and coke.

"I take it I'm not who you expected," he said as he flagged the bartender for a soda.

"Given the history of our interactions, no, you're not." You watched his arm fall to the oak bar, his hazel eyes on you, sparkling darkly in the low amber light.

"Disappointed?" he asked and you took a breath in.

"It's not all you," you said, tipping the glass as you take a sip. "Supposed to be celebrating an op, but Penelope bailed."

"Criswell's case?" he asked and you sighed, his question stinging like the back of your throat.

"Criswell's case," you scoffed. "I do all the work and he's the one they credit? I swear to God, you Special Agents--"

"It's hardly my fault that Criswell's name gets put on the report. He was the arresting officer--"

"Only because I led the guy right to him," you argued, looking at Spencer and then you just sighed. "You don't get it. You're not an intelligence analyst."

"No, I do," he insisted. "I know you think we all come home with wins every week, but it's not me, or the BAU, or even the FBI that gets the credit. It's the local police department who can't pull their heads out of the asses, sorry, long enough to realise that all they need is to empathise to catch their killers."

You looked at him, with a mix of surprise and respect, and a little amusement at his apology after saying 'asses', and he ran out of steam at your look. "T-The point is, I get it," he continued. "You probably don't sleep for days, and if you do, it's not enough. You're probably going to suffer from debilitating eye strain in your 70s, and all for some half-wit tactical analyst to get the credit. You're right to be pissed, but getting mad at me isn't gonna get you anywhere."

You wet your stained lips, downing the rest of your glass, and stare at it for a moment. "I've been kind of unfair to you, haven't I?" you asked, looking at him.

Spencer looked at his clear glass, bubbles of soda rising to the surface. "Kind of feels diminutive," he said and you laugh, a brightness in your eyes that wasn't there a minute ago.

"Be grateful I admitted anything at all," you said and he nodded graciously.

"Of course. Thank you for the bare minimum," he said and you huff.

"Look at that, the robot knows sarcasm," you teased and he made an offended noise before watching you snicker. "So, just the soda or are you gonna drink something stronger?"

"Just the soda," he said and you know better than to ask as you order yourself a mojito. "So, how did you do it?" Spencer asked. "How'd you track him down?"

You shrugged, not particularly in a bragging mood. "It wasn't that hard, really. I already had an alert set up for requests for encryption keys, and there was no reason for this military officer in Alaska to request them. He didn't have the clearance or approval from someone who did to have eyes on it. All I did was figure out what he wanted access to and fudge it and put a code in so I could track the user before giving him the encryption key. Then it was just a matter of posing as a buyer for the intel."

"Child's play," Spencer remarked dryly, his lips curling and you shrugged.

"If you can learn sarcasm, I can learn humility," you said, sipping your mojito and it was his turn to laugh quietly.

"It's a new look on you," he said, meeting your gaze, and you're not sure if it's the rum, but there's a moment of tension, and you're half-convinced he's leaning in to kiss you when your phone beeped and it shatters like you've dropped your glass. You fumbled through your purse for your cell, pulling it out to find a text message from Penelope.

Penny: Kevin's staying the night.

How was this night getting worse by the minute?

You: Can't you go to his place?

No reply. It turned out your bottomless patience wasn't so limitless, and Spencer could tell.

"Problem?" he asked, raising his soda to finish it.

"It appears I'm homeless for the night," you replied, downing your entire mojito in one go.

"Hey, hey, slow down," he insisted, pulling the glass away from you, but it was just mint and ice now. "What do you mean?"

You grasped Spencer's shoulder. "See, Data, when two people go out on a date, which is a kind of human mating ritual, one of them offers their habitat to copulate in, never mind the other females who maybe sharing said habitat," you said, mocking and he swatted your hand away, knowing you well enough to know you were just projecting your irritation on to him.

"You could just say that Garcia was taking Kevin home, you don't have to be so--"

"Mean?" you asked hollowly and Spencer pursed his lips.

"Hostile," he replied and you nodded.

"It's fine, I'll just flirt with someone and let them take me to their place," you said, slipping off your seat.

"Hey, no," Spencer said firmly, his hands loosely grasping your arms. "A) you're drunk--"

"I had two drinks--"

"And B) Penelope would kill me if I let you become one of our cases. You can stay with me."

"What? No," you protested. "I'm mean and unfair to you, why would you--"

"Because no matter how much disdain you hold for me, I'm not actually a bad guy," he said patiently. "Can you honestly tell me you trust anyone else in this bar to not take advantage of you?"

You sucked your cheek in and sighed. "No," you said petulantly, and Spencer stood up, holding your coat up for you to help you into it.

He doesn't drive and you share Esther with Penelope who needed it tonight, so you're on the Metro back to his place, Spencer's hand on your waist keeping you standing until there's a place to sit. You realise, rather dully, that if you weren't wearing your coat, his hand would have found the cut-out of your waist, and you wonder what it feels like. "I'm never drinking rum again," you murmured. Clearly, it was poisoning your mind.

"Sure, you won't," he said dryly, standing in front of you and you have to look up at him to see his eyes.

"You're really tall," you said, distastefully. You don't like having to crane your neck just to look at him… not that you like looking at him. It's easier to be mean, you decide, when you can look him in the eye.

"I'm sorry, the doctor said there's no cure for it," he replied, clearly mocking.

"I could always lop your knees off," you said helpfully, smiling up at him and he snorted.

"I think they've been through enough." He watched the frown form on your forehead, and, stupid impulse, he moved his hand to smooth it out. "I was shot in the knee a couple years ago," he explained. "Reconstructive surgery."

"Must make kneeling hard," you said without thinking and he tilted his head at you, his hand returning to your waist.

"Was that a joke?" he asked and you shook your head.

"No, I'm just--" The train jolted and Spencer grabbed your hips before you could fall, your hands on his arms. "Embarrassing," you finished as he righted you, then guided your hands to the pole. He was warm, smelling like Irish espresso. It must be nice, being his girlfriend, smelling that all the time. What is wrong with me?

The rest of the ride is silent, and then he's guiding you out of the carriage and onto the station closest to his apartment. He tapped both your metro cards, which you don't remember giving to him, before walking out of the subway with his hand on the small of your back, and you're out of quips and clever things to say. You didn't think that was possible, but maybe the train jolted it out of you. Or maybe the rum did. But you're silent all the way to his apartment, and a little curious about how he lives.

He lets you in, letting go of your waist, and you don't see how his hand clenches, too busy taking the apartment in. The wall's a lovely green and he has lamps that remind you of old libraries with the green steel shade, and he has bookshelves everywhere, nothing with a contemporary cover on it. They're all old hardbounds that you're compelled to touch reverently, foreign titles that you're able to decipher. "Of course you have War and Peace in the original Russian," you scoffed, tracing the golden Russian letters while he set your purse down on his coffee table.

"You can read it?" he asked, surprised and you look at him with narrowed eyes.

"How do you think I posed as a Russian buyer of international secrets?" you asked and he held his hands up in surrender.

"My bad," he admitted, trying not to look impressed. But it was the truth, you were impressive. It was impressive enough how skilled you were at coding and creating algorithms, able to take over for Penelope without complaint from anyone but Derek who would get shut down every time he tried to call you baby girl. In a lot of ways, you were like Penelope, always ready with a pop-culture reference and a barb, preferring steel over sexual innuendo. In the early days, he had been sensitive to it, avoiding you when he could, but he'd seen your softer side when Penelope had been shot, how you'd been unafraid to yell at Rossi for pushing the boundaries of interrogation with her. He knew you were kind, really, you just weren't very generous with it.

He filled up a glass of water, walking over to you, doing his best to keep his gaze off your waist as he passed it to you, noticing you perusing the Art of War… in the original Chinese. "Don't tell me… Chinese too?"

"Kind of a prerequisite for counterintelligence," you said, swapping the book for the water, and an uncomfortable expression flashed across your face, shifting in your heels. He was an idiot, he should have noticed it. You were standing for so long in the train. You frowned as he knelt silently, hand grasping your ankle and you lifted your heel so he could take it off. One, then the other. "Thanks," you said quietly, unused to his kindness.

"It's not that hard," he said, standing up, putting your heels by your purse.

"What is?" you asked and he looked back at you.

"Kneeling," he said simply and it's stupid but your heart stops for a second, caught off-guard. "I'm gonna get you something more comfortable to wear. Finish that."

Oh, this was not good. You were not going to catch feelings for a man you've told everyone you know, which is mostly Penelope, and by association Kevin, that you hate. Your phone beeps and you pick it up.

Penny: Talked to Emily, you can stay at hers.

Escape. Emily can pick you up, you get along with Emily just fine, Emily's not a tall brunet with hazel eyes and makes butterflies erupt in your stomach. Emily's safe. You could be safe… or you could be with Spencer.

You: Don't bother, I'm already at Spencer's. You owe me so big.

You simply hope it sounds more casual and unbothered than you feel.

"So, I couldn't find anything that fit-" he started and you flinched as he walked back into the room, holding sweats and a t-shirt, almost dropping your glass, and he looked at you with wide eyes. "Sorry, carpeted floors," he said, assuming that was why you were so startled, and walked over, swapping your empty glass with the clothes. "They'll have to do, I'm afraid."

You nodded. "Bathroom?"

"Inside, on your left," he said, frowning as you rushed away.

You have to roll up the legs of the pants so you can actually walk in them, too afraid to ask for shorts for the fear that he might just hand you a pair of boxers, and then you really would crack, just like that.

You stepped out eventually, finding him setting up the couch with blankets and pillows, and he looked at you, his expression unreadable in the low light. "I know, they're baggy and I look awful."

"No," he said quickly, sitting on the couch. "You don't. Look awful, that is. Even if they are baggy."

"Right," you said, if only to move on to something else. "Um… do you have any cotton balls or something? I have all this make-up--"

"Sure, yeah," he said, moving and almost tripping over the coffee table in his rush to service you.

"--wouldn't want to ruin your pillows," you said to deaf ears, following him with a frown as he retrieves a cosmetic bag from his dresser. "Why do you have that?"

"Uh…" He looked at you with a wincing expression. "Halloween," he said, hoping it would suffice, and it did. You've seen him come into work at the end of every October with props and gimmicks. Emily ended up pawning off a Baba Yaga head to you that still hangs in your cubicle. You've named her Meredith.

"Right," you replied and he handed it to you.

"What, no clever retort?" he asked and you shook your head.

"No, I think the cosmetic bag speaks for itself," you said, showing him the pumpkin shaped cartoons on it, and he sighed.

"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up," he said dryly and you snickered as you headed to the bathroom.

"Does Morgan know about your clown make-up?" you asked and he lingered in the doorway.

"Please don't," he begged, watching you dab removal cream on the pad and wipe your make-up away. You're teasing and mean, hostile and snappish, but you're not cruel. You've kept secrets for him before, like the magazine cover of him and Lila from 2005 that Emily almost finds if not for you distracting her with a linguistic question, your hand stealthily picking it out of his drawer, and then tossing it to him when she turned her back.

"Depends, do you have clown shoes somewhere in your closet?" you asked, smiling as you ridicule him.

"No, the shoes I rented, the nose I own, the hair I spraypainted," he said and you look at him.

"Seriously?" you asked with a giddy grin. "Please tell me there are pictures."

"What? No!" he retorted, in that high pitch where you know he's lying, "Even if there were, why would I show you?"

"Because you know I can find them anyway," you retorted.

"Not if they're not digital," he snapped back, thinking he's pulled a fast one until he sees your devious grin. "No. Absolutely not."

"You've made a horrible mistake letting me into your home," you said, grinning giddily.

"You're a terrible person," he said, blocking your way bodily. "Sadistic, twisted, horrible--"

"I'm gonna find it," you said, stepping towards him.

"Not if I lock you in here all night," he said, but it was weak, he knew it was. He'd cave the minute he heard your pleading voice, or pretending to vomit. You tilt your head at him.

"Show me the pictures, Spencer," you said and his shoulders sag.

"Alright, come on," he said, resigned, leading you to the bedroom and pulling at a locked drawer in his desk before picking up the album. You plopped onto the bed, curling your feet up underneath you, Spencer sliding into bed beside you with the album on his thighs. "Please don't be mean," he asked, looking at you with a pleading look.

"If I don't have something nice to say, I won't speak," you promised, and he opens it up, knowing it's the best you can offer. You instantly clap a hand over your mouth at the sight of ten year old Spencer dressed like a Russian gymnast. So, he was that extra as a kid too.

"You… dressed like that all night, and you survived?" you asked, looking at him and he shrugged.

"I didn't actually do much trick-or-treating. But my mom would help me make my costume and I'd watch scary movies when she was asleep."

There's a Ghostbuster's costume, a vampire costume, a Frankenstein costume, all creative and handmade, and you watch Spencer age through the photographs, until he's 14 and you're half-asleep on his shoulder.

A fondness warms his chest as he tucked hair behind your ear. He's never seen you unmade like this. You weren't as flamboyant as Penelope (you once said Bowie wasn't as flamboyant as Penelope), usually in greys, browns and blacks, with plain jewellery and simple make-up, and tonight had only gone up in tone by your eyeshadow, grey and silver, with black eyeliner.

But now? You looked vulnerable and pretty, unarmed, and he carefully laid you against the pillow. Maybe he thinks he'll get over it if he says it, or 'manifest' it like Penelope says, and it's not exactly a heavy thing he says, but he whispered it as he stroked your hair back in place.

"I wish you liked me as much as I like you."

[bluecrocss]

STOP BEING WEIRD

Now that social media has blurred the lines between celebrities and their fans, I am once again reminded that people have no sense of boundaries or decorum online.

I get that we all joke about Luke being a groomer and weirdo because of his weird little "did you love me?" confession to Annabeth at the end of TLO. But why did I come across a tiktok of some pjo fan making a slide show joke of Luke and Annabeth, where the joke was something like, "when the law says 18 but she's 14" and it was using ACTUAL PICTURES of Charlie and Leah.

Not only that, but they went on to tag Charlie's tiktok account in the post, so he would see it (with some dumbass caption about how "it's just a joke. Please don't take it seriously.")

And the thing is, I have seen Charlie leave comments on fan posts before, so when his fans tag him in things, there's always a good chance he sees them.

Like... are y'all okay in the head? In what world is that an okay joke to make? That is his underage coworker (that he seems to have a very sweet, brotherly relationship with), did they think he would actually respond to a post like that with the implications of it?

And btw, with all the changes the tv adaptation has made (i.e. sympathetic Medusa, less abusive Gabe, etc.) and the glaring exclusion of Annabeth's crush on Luke in TLT, there's a 99.99999% chance that that line and all the implications of it to Luke and Annabeth's relationship will NOT be included in this adaptation, so there's no need for y'all to keep bringing it up with the actors (even as a joke).

I've also seen fans make weird speculations regarding the cast's parents' relationships with each other, make fan accounts for Walker's siblings, impersonate Walker's siblings, not to mention the harassment on Leah and her family that I've already spoken on ad nauseum.

Y'all say you love this cast so much and how they act like a family, but idk know if they'll be able to maintain these good working relationships for the next 6 - 8 years they're supposed to work together with this weird, invasive behavior from fans.

And for the last time, "I'm a minor" and "I'm actually younger than them" is not an adequate justification for this shit. If you claim you're old enough to use the internet unsupervised, you are old enough to take accountability for your borderline harassment, like you would have to irl.

I feel like we allow a lot of very dangerous behavior to go unchecked in fandom (and online in general) by only going after the adults who partake in it (and lets be honest, sometimes the adults are the minority with certain situations).

[shotanzz]

How long does it take Riize to confess to their crush?

basing this off of their mars and mercury mainly but ofc the venus as well and I'm also writing this under the pretense the member knew the person previous to liking them so a friend or coworker you get what I mean

Shotaro - Like a month or two, he'd be pretty indecisive or waiver but at the same time extremely driven to just rip the bandaid off. Sho is on the flirtier side but his Scorpio Moon + Cap Venus makes him feel a need to be secure beforehand. Sho said himself on a Riize content he'd want his crush to know he's into her/wouldn't care if she knew.

Eunseok - 3 weeks to 2 months.. depends on how sure he is of you. Eunseok would have already had his eye on the person for a while tbsh so once his mind was made up it'd be done, the delay would be him not knowing how to say it to where he woukdn't sound pushy bc his aries venus is vv forward and sag mars is vv risky

Sungchan - As soon as he is 100% sure you like him back because rejection would embarrass him so bad it'll kill his soul

Wonbin - I see him taking like 3-5 whole months LMFAOO and then when he does confess it'd either A) be through the phone or B) at his house on his couch or something. Taurus mars takes it's sweet time aiming for the things it wants

Seunghan - Everyday. He'd confess..multiple times actually but the first time you'd be like "what does he mean by that" it would be less cryptic every time but still romantic each time. I only say this because he has mercury/pluto which can lead to suppression of speech

Sohee - He wont, but you will !! and if he does you'lI never know when. I say this because men with a fire venus but water mars can follow through showing their interest but fall short TELLING their interest and initiating things . If he did confess himself it would be out of literally no where and he'd probs accidentally leak it while ranting or going off about something.

Anton - Honestly you wouldn't even know how long he'd been planning it. Similar to Eunseok once he made his mind he made his mind. A lot of people think Anton wouldn't confess he would but he lowkey has a secret evil voice in his head that goes "SHE WILL BE MINEE" He'd have been planning the confession forever but then drop the bomb on you on a random thursday imo

The maknae line is just insane if you haven't gathered that

[definitelynotafurinasimp]

Hey, I like your writing. Would it be alright if we get Ganyu and Hu Tao with a pre-S/o who obviously has a crush on them but is to shy to confess their feeling. So it's up to them to take initiative. Thank you.

Them with a reader that’s too shy to confess their obvious crush to them

characters: Hu Tao / Ganyu / Keqing x gn!reader (separate)

warnings: none, just fluff

a/n: I decided to add Keqing because I feel like I haven't written for her in a long time, and frankly, because I could.

If there's something I got wrong about your request, feel free to say and I'll try again once i find the motivation/time to.

Anyway, hope you enjoy!

Hu Tao

While, at this point, most people would think that Hu Tao had no idea how to read a room, the funeral director was confident in saying that their theory couldn’t be more false, as she simply chose to ignore it whenever she could. So when you started acting increasingly shy and nervous around her, she was quick to pick up on your behavior. And once she noticed how you were acting, her discovering why was already on the horizon.

Of course Hu Tao used this gained knowledge to sort things out for the two of you. Or at least she will… eventually. After she got her fun first.

The longer you stared at the lines of the poem Hu Tao had handed you, the more of a weird feeling you got in your stomach. It was unusual enough for her to write anything that wasn’t at least 50% meant as a joke, so when you saw that it was about love you wished for nothing more than to either sink into the ground or wake up from this awkward scenario. 

What didn’t help was the fact that she continued to stare at you with a grin the whole time, not seeming to blink once whenever you stole a quick glance towards her.

“Uhm”, you tried to find the right words to start, only for Hu Tao to cut you off.

“Is there a problem?”, she asked, almost sounding genuine, if it weren’t for her grin growing bigger.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but why didn’t you choose anyone else to proofread this?”, you nervously asked, seeing her playfully tilt her head from the corner of your eye.

“Who else should I hand it to? Xingqiu? Nothing against him, but he really isn’t made for criticizing romantic poetry”, she was quick to respond, letting out a small yawn as the first sunrails made their way towards you, causing you to realize how long it was since she had dragged you out here.

“And I am better at talking about these kinds of texts for what reason?”, you asked with all the sarcasm you could muster, both of you knowing damn well how bad you were with any material about romance.

“Your reactions are funny”, she stated almost matter of factly while raising her pointer finger and pointing at a specific verse in the poem, looking at you expectedly. “Reread this once more and tell me if there’s something to change”, she demanded, causing your eyes to scan those words once again, only for the realization that the person described shared a lot of features with you… Almost too many for this whole thing to be a coincidence.

Before you had a chance to say anything however, Hu Tao snatched the paper out of your hands, giving you a smile before playfully patting your shoulder.

“Oh no, it seems like a new morning has dawned, which means that a new day of work lies ahead of us, so sorry that I have to cut this short all of a sudden”, she feigned sadness, only to give you one of her usual mischievous smiles. “But hey, if you need to tell me anything, you know where to find me.”

Ganyu

When you first began acting awkwardly around Ganyu, going so far as to avoid looking her in the eyes, the more anxious side of her began worrying she may have unintentionally done something that caused your behavior, only for you to blush whenever she mentioned it before trying to assure her that everything was fine.

It was only after one specific, purple haired coworker of hers started to notice the way you two acted around each other and decided that enough was enough, that Ganyu was confronted with the possibility of you having caught feelings. And while the intention of revealing your somewhat obvious crush was to make the half Adeptus stop worrying too much, it turned out to have the exact opposite effect as Ganyu also began to turn into a nervous wreck whenever she was around you.

Taking the initiative in situations like these never was something Ganyu was all too fond of, her own anxiety not exactly helping in making things easier. Nevertheless here she was, waiting for you to meet her as she requested, doubts about this whole thing quickly starting to invade her mind, only for her to try and shake them off once she saw your form in the distance.

“Good morning Ganyu!”, you greeted her, a smile on your face as you made your way over to her, completely oblivious to how much of an anxious wreck she was at the moment.

Or at least you were until she presented you with a rose, barely managing to look you in the eyes as the color of her face started to turn into the same shade of red as the flower.

“I-I’ve heard of a nearly opened shop that sells beautiful flowers, so I wanted to… buy you one”, she mumbled just loud enough for you to hear, the sudden change in atmosphere causing you to start blushing as well, slowly taking the rose out of her hand, making sure not to sting yourself on any of its thorns.

“T-Thanks, I would have brought something with me too if I knew you bought me something. Please excuse me for a minute, I’ll get you something”, you offered, trying your best to get out before your nervousness took over completely, only to stop when you heard Ganyu speak up again.

“Wait!”, she almost yelled, immediately stopping herself once she realized how loud she was, lowering her voice drastically. 

“There’s something I wanted to tell you.”

Keqing

No matter what way she looked at it, Keqing couldn’t help but feel slightly infuriated. You were her secretary, the first one to hold out for such a long time at that, so why were you spending less and less time around her, preferring to pretend to be busy running errands around the office?

This wasn’t jealousy that was speaking of course, it wasn’t like she started to enjoy having you around her at work so much that she couldn’t help but feel lonely whenever you weren’t, but if you had a problem with her, you should simply tell her that face to face instead of trying to run away.

And so, the Yuheng decided to ambush you somewhere private, fully intending to resolve whatever issues you had in a direct way.

“O-oh Keqing. Is there something you need?”, you asked, nearly jumping as Keqing appeared from behind the corner, cutting off your way suddenly enough that you nearly ran into her..

“Yes. I need you”, she stated, her tone sounding slightly frustrated, only for her eyes to slightly widen once she realized that her words could be taken another way, quickly adding a few more. “-to do your job as my secretary.”

While Keqing may have been full of resolve when she set out to confront you, the longer she had to wait for you, the more she began to actually fear what could happen. What if you really had a problem with her? Would you resign? Did you not enjoy working together as much as she did? At this point it was fair to say that she was feeling somewhat nervous, increasingly hoping that this all turned out to be some kind of misunderstanding.

“I can’t help but feel like you're avoiding me. Even now I had to basically ambush you to get you to even speak to me”, she explained while crossing her arms, checking your face for any reactions before taking a deep breath and continuing, “If you have a problem with me, just say it”, Keqing tried her best to continue her confident facade, only for it to slowly giving way with each and every word, her nervousness making its way onto her face.

“I don’t have a problem with you”, you quickly blurted out, only to almost instantly be cut off by the Yuheng.

“Then what is it?”

Her question almost instantly managed to shut you up, causing you to look around nervously as you tried your best to find the right words to continue with. Eventually letting out a long sigh as you closed your eyes in defeat.

“Could we go somewhere more private? I… have some things I need you to know.”

[batbeato]

Started going off about Sayo's gender AGAIN to my partner and they stopped me midway through to tell me to tumblr again. "sounds very tumblrish go on tumblr". Okay then. Yes I'm going to start every post like this I'm salty about it

Anyway. I was looking around places to see other people's thoughts on Sayo's gender identity and saw some takes that had me. Well. Taken aback.

Generally just this idea that Kanon is, without doubts or room for other interpretations, Sayo's expression of self-hatred, gender dysphoria, de-transitioning, etc. He is only a sign of Sayo's gender dysphoria regarding their transition to femininity and not so much a sign of anything else.

...If you saw my previous post, you know that I heavily disagree about Sayo's gender being canonically confirmed to be this or that identity, and that I believe there is room for trans woman headcanons, various nonbinary headcanons, genderfluid headcanons, and so on.

Back to Kanon. Gender dysphoria. Well. (For the record, I headcanon Sayo as genderfluid, so I may be biased.)

Kanon has this general thing where he is the outlet for much of Sayo's negative emotions. Because Beatrice is a witch, and thus not a part of the Rokkenjima dynamics, Beatrice cannot directly voice Sayo's frustrations with their life. Beatrice is a witch who has everything she could possibly want with magic (except Battler, whose return she is patiently awaiting). Therefore, Beatrice cannot be the one to voice Shannon's mundane troubles - the other servants bothering her, her bosses mistreating her, etc. She can play pranks on them, but she cannot be rude to her coworkers or bosses for Shannon, or be more personal. This is part of why Kanon was created - Shannon cannot be negative because she is meant to be bright and positive and adhere to patriarchal standards of how good, feminine women must be.

This line from episode 2 summarizes how Kanon is Sayo's persona that can truly express the 'filthy' and human feelings they have.

Kanon was also created to ease Shannon's loneliness - to pretend that they had an ally always by their side - and to experiment with their gender expression. If their body wasn't able to fulfill the expectations they had of it (periods, breasts, hips - the expected puberty for a woman), then perhaps they could fulfill a different set of expectations.

(...I have some issues with Confession - primarily centralizing Shannon as Sayo's main/real self, which is very often contradicted by the rest of the series - but this series of panels sums Kanon's role up well.)

I think Kanon's role - the boy who expresses discomfort that the girls cannot express - is part of why he is so often seen as a personification of dysphoria and self hatred. I believe you can interpret Kanon as such, but I also believe that it is a matter of interpretation, rather than a very clear-cut canon-indicated matter.

In many cases, Sayo's dysphoria seems to be far less about their lack of womanhood in particular, and far more about compulsory dyadism (“the instituted cultural mandate that people cannot undermine the sex dyad by possessing intersex traits”, according to Dr. Celeste Orr).

...Sorry for the image spam. But this small collection should show what I mean: saying that they aren't "capable of love" because of their body, and agonizing over not being able to have children. Beyond that, both Shannon and Kanon are mocked by Beatrice for not meeting masculine or feminine standards (their status as furniture).

Beyond that, Kanon's portrayal in many areas seems to suggest that he is on equal footing with Shannon and Beatrice: for example, being pitted against Shannon on equal footing in the Episode 6 duel, and the important part he plays later on in teaching Chick Beatrice how to become Beatrice once more. Chick Beatrice is only able to regain her true self by coming to understand the other sides of herself, including Kanon.

I didn't write all of this to try to disprove Sayo as a trans woman who primarily experiences gender dysphoria through Kanon theory, but mostly to show how it's not so heavily implied through text that it can be considered canon, haha.

...You might have noticed that I take people describing their headcanons as canon, thus implicitly denying others' interpretations, to be very, very... irritating.

[maladaptive-day-dreams]

WLW Hotline: IRL

Robin x fem!reader, smut 18+, 3.7k words

By popular demand here’s part twooooo (find part one here), ty for alllllll the looooooove on the original!!!! <3 pls enjoyyyyyyy (also sorry if there are typos or anything, i didn't proof it😅)

Part 1 • Part 3

CW: a lil angst before confessions before smuuuuuuuuut, Robin starts it but reader finishes, eager sub!Robin, mommy kink, oral (face-riding), masturbation, fingering, oral (regular kind lol) —obvi f recieving for the oral since its wlw—

Tags: @lightvixxen @blueeyedcami @robinsno1lesbian @qusok @dumbassbitchwithnotits @ronancelver @sarahisgay01

It’s been a week. Since that Sunday night call with Robin. She hasn’t called back.

And you haven’t tried her phone either.

“Fuck, yes, god,” Sweets moaned on the other side of the phone call. “Jesus, Honey you’re always so good at helping me finish,” he laughs.

“Always here to help, handsome,” you smile. “Talk next week, yeah?”

“Yes ma’am, talk then,” Sweets sends a kiss through the phone and hangs up.

“Alrighty Patricia! I’m off for the night,” I’ll see you Friday.”

“Oh, Y/N, just a minute!,” Patricia hollers from the hallway. She makes her way into your office before finishing her thought. “Sorry dear, there’s a girl on the line who’s been trying to call for an hour and a half but you had Bunny and then Sweets right after each other. She’s just gotten back on the line again, I told her to call in half an hour to catch you before you call it a night.”

“Patty, I’m off at 2am every night I work, you know that, should’ve told her to call again on Friday,” you whine a little before sitting back down at your seat.

“I know hun, but she was insistent!” Patty days on her way out of your office.

You take a deep breath and get comfy in your chair, putting your feet on the desk before picking up the phone. “Thanks for calling the WLW Hotline, how long of a session would you like tonight honey? Quarter, half or a full hour?”

“Hey Y/N.”

“Robin, hi,” you pull your feet from the desk and sit up straight, leaning on your elbows over the phone base.

“Hi, uh, your coworker told me to call back in half an hour, said you were on a call the last few times I tried to get through.”

“Yeah my regulars call around now,” you say, twirling the phone cord on your pointer finger. “Honestly didn’t think I’d ever really hear from you again.”

“I know you left your rents place so I didn’t know how else to get a hold of you,” Robin says, then pauses.

You wait a moment for her to keep talking, huffing and sitting back you break the silence. “What’s up Robin? I was about to head out for the night, my shift finished after my last call.”

You hear Robin suck in a breath, “sorry. Can we, uhm talk? In person? Coffee tomorrow at 11?  Blue egg cafe?”

Heart racing—from nerves or butterflies, you don’t know—“yeah, sure.”

“Ok, uh, see you then.” She hangs up.

You’re pretty sure the heart racing and nauseous feeling in the pit of your stomach is nerves for what Robin is going to say, not butterflies at the thought of seeing her and talking to her again after so long a time. Nerves that forced you out of bed at 8 am and at Blue Egg Cafe 30 minutes before the agreed upon time. 

Snagging a table outside in the cool fall air of September, you sip at your coffee. You picked a table just far enough away from the doors so people can’t eavesdrop and just close enough to where you parked that you can escape quickly if things go downhill.

You didn’t know wether to wave or just nod your head in acknowledgement when Robin showed up, just on time. Passing by the coffee shop and headed straight towards you. 

She skipped the coffee part of the coffee meeting and sat right down in the seat across from you. “You knew it was me, but you didn’t say anything?”

“Wow, ok hi, good morning to you to,” you scoff. “I did my job Rob. I help people finish when they can’t, you were a call so I was doing my job. Would you have stayed on the line if I told you it was me?”

“Good morning,” she whispers. “You could’ve transferred me to someone else.”

“Just getting right into the interrogation huh,” you laugh half-heartedly, desperately wishing to leave already. “No catching up no ‘how have you been, hows the new place? The new job?’ And, no actually I couldn’t. I’m the only worker for WLW side. It took me a month of bothering my boss daily to even think of opening my line and giving me a position. And even with that he only gives me three nights of work. So no, I couldn’t transfer you. I was your only option.”

You sip on your now cold coffee.

She looks away from you as she says, “I deserved to know.”

It’s the first time she’s hidden herself from you since she sat down. Seven minutes of pure frustration seeped questioning.

“You don’t think I realize that now? It was just supposed to be another anonymous call. Another one-and-done I’d never hear from you again and we could go back to head nods when we passed on the street. I didn’t think it mattered, until you said my name.”

“I-uh.”

“Y’know what,” you say, cutting her off. “Fuck it I’m gonna say it.”

Robin looks like she’s gonna say something to stop you.

“No let me say this so if things aren’t reciprocated I can go back to trying to forget about you,” you take a deep breath before starting again. “Robin I’ve liked you since the day I met you.”

She lifts her eyes to meet yours at your confession, but you look down. 

“Yeah I know pathetic. A two year long pining session. I had a crush on you the first time I met you at the mall with Steve and Dustin. And I thought maybe just maybe this would be it. This would be the feelings, the woman, that stays. And then you asked Vickie out. And I had to look happy for you even thought I had two tickets to Eddie’s big show in my pocket that day and was about to ask you to go with me as a date. I had to look happy because you were finally going out with the girl you crushed on through all of high school.”

“But you went to that concert with Steve?”

You laugh, “Yeah after I sobbed to him about how stupid I was to listen to him and Eddie and make a move.”

“Wha-I,” she looked at you with something in her eyes, but you couldn’t tell what.

“Please don’t pity me if that’s what you’re about to do,” you interrupt her with a laugh. “I’ve done enough of that for myself these last two years.”

Rob looks into her empty hands that sit on the table. You pause, searching her downturned face for any sort of familiarity or reciprocation.

“Can I ask one thing before I leave so we don’t have to see each other again?” you ask after a moment.

She looks up, with eyes that have the lightest of hurt laced in them

“Why did you stop talking to me? After getting with Vickie. Did I do something? Say something?”

“Uh, no. Actually that was my fault, no fault of yours at all. Um, Vickie asked me to stop being close to you because I couldn’t stop talking about how great you are and how much fun we’d had that summer,” she smiles to herself.

You don’t respond, finger tracing lightly around the rim of your empty coffee cup. You shift your chair out, ready to get up and escape but pause when Robin starts again.

“That’s also why we broke up. I was thinking of you a lot recently and let old habits slip out.”

“You-“

“Let me say something now, please,” she says looking at you.

You nod and let Robin continue.

“I know this sounds bad but, I don’t think I ever loved Vickie. Even when I said I did. I think it was just a reaction, something I thought I needed to say, she was someone I thought I needed because I’d spent so many years waiting for her. It was good, at the beginning, don’t get me wrong,” she smiles up at you. “We we’re happy, and the sex was great.”

“I don’t-“ you cringe.

“Sorry, sorry, you don’t need to hear that part,” she pauses. “But then we stopped, sorry, having sex and she stopped wanting me in that way and I stopped wanting her in that way and our personalities were too different and I was out and she wasn’t and there was so much wrong, but we stayed together,” she rambles.

“I wanted to share her with my people, to show her off, to worship her and her body like I want to worship my forever partner. But she said I was becoming ‘too much,’” Robin scoffs. “And so I backed off, tried to minimize myself to be what she wanted, and started thinking of you. And how easy it was when that summer we met. How myself I was. And I started bringing you up again. Steve told me that you moved out of your parents place like you always said you wanted to, how Eddie said you’d been to every. Single. One. Of his shows and had been the loudest one in the crowd. They said how happy you were, are, now. And I told Vickie all of it, as if she knew you, as if we were all old friends, and she got angry, said it was the last straw and left me. She asked me if I ever talked about her like I did you, when I didn’t answer, she said what I think I already knew. That I was in love, with you. That I am.”

You smile at her. Robin finds your hand on the table, holding it in hers and running her thumb in circles on the top of your hand. The two of you look at your hands together on the table, reveling in the warmth of the other. But you pull your hand away and stand up. Robin looks up at you, eyes full of love and want until you hold your hand out to her in a silent invitation.

She stands up and takes it, walking with you to your car around the corner. Once you get to your car you move to unlock your door with the keys and find Robin’s warmth at your back. She hugs you from behind, kissing the back of your neck while her hands roam your clothed stomach and drift up to your boobs. You moan as she takes them in her hands and squeezes through your shirt, grinding your ass back into her, your hands fumbling with the keys. You turn around to face Robin, desperately finding her lips with your own and catching her in a searing kiss before pushing her lightly away from you. 

She laughs and walks slowly to the passenger side of your car. You successfully unlock your door and sit down behind the wheel before leaning over and unlocking her door. She climbs in and leans into you while you put on your seatbelt, leaving hot open mouthed kisses along the right side of your neck.

“Robin,” you moan out. “It’s a ten minute drive.”

She halts her kisses up your neck and sits back to buckle up. The drive is quiet, but full of want and heat. You’re both silent as you walk up to the door of your house on the outskirts of downtown Hawkins. Patience is wearing thin as you both know what the future of tonight might bring, and as soon as you open the door and let Robin in first you follow behind, slamming the door and grabbing her wrist to turn her back towards you. You spin the two of you in a circle and push her back into the door, lips meeting hers in a hungry kiss.

She grunts as her back hits the wood, but that noise quickly turns into a wanton moan as you kiss her deeply and push a knee between her legs.

Licking the seam of her lips, she opens her mouth and your tongues caress and memorize the taste of each other. She grinds her clothing-covered pussy onto your thigh that rests at the apex of hers, and you pull back slightly noticing the line of spit that connects her lips to yours.

“Are you sure?” you ask, panting.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything,” Robin sighs, nudging your nose with her own, her lips hovering yours.

You smile into a brief peck to her lips and take her hand in yours. The two of you are laughing and falling over one another in your attempt to lead Robin to your bedroom. As soon as you enter your room, Robin pushes you to sit on the edge of your bed and straddles you. Your hands find a home on her hips as you look up at her.

“I think I’ve loved you since that movie night at Eddie’s a month after you moved to town,” Robin says, hands resting on each side of your neck as she looks down at you from her seat in your lap.

“Really?” you laugh, running your hands around her back and pushing up her shirt slightly so you could put hands to skin. “What about that night?”

“You brought everyone’s favorite snack and drink without us asking and with only knowing us all for two weeks,” she smiles, thumbs lightly tracing over your cheeks.

“You remember that?”

She nods her head, “the amount of care and love you had for people you’d just met was beautiful. You were beautiful,” she pauses to kiss you lightly. “You are beautiful.”

She captures your lips in another kiss and you pull her closer to you, hands on the skin of her back. She grinds down on you as you continue to swallow moans between kisses before pausing to pull her shirt the rest of the way off from where you’d begun to bunch it below her bra strap.You look at her, eyes asking silent permission, and unclasp her bra once she nods.

Her chest is bare to you, all full and open and waiting for worship which you’ll willingly give. And so you kiss from the hollow at the base of her neck to the valley between her breasts. Her head drops back and she whimpers as you leave kisses across each breasts fullness, kissing atop her pebbled nipples. When you take her right bud into your mouth she moans loudly, her hands coming to rest on the back of your head, keeping you to her as you lick and suck and nibble on her sensitive nipple. You pull back and blow cold air over her wet nipple, reveling in the shudder that racks her body and the goosebumps that decorate her skin before giving her left breast the same treatment. All the while, she continues to grind down into you.

She whines as you pull away from her heaving chest, looking down at you with lust before trying for your lips. You put your hands on her neck and lead her to you, meeting her lips in a sweet kiss before asking, “what do you want me to do?”

“Please, mommy,” she pleads. “Touch me.”

You smile and place a kiss to her neck before pushing her hips away and getting her to stand up. She does, standing on shaky legs, and you do as well, falling to your knees before her and dropping a kiss to each of her hips before looking to her for approval. She nods and you unbutton her jean shorts, tugging them down her long legs and slowly lifting each foot to remove the shorts, placing a sweet kiss to each ankle as you do. You trail your hands up the outside of her legs and loop your fingers into the waist of her underwear, pulling them down her legs and dropping them with her shorts on the floor at the foot of your bed.

Leaning in, you pepper hot, open-mouthed kisses up her thighs and puff warm air onto her cunt at the apex of her thighs. She moves back, pushing her pussy away from you and placing her hands on your shoulders, her mouth open in a hot, deep breath. You look up at her from your place on your knees before her and meet her eyes.

“Want my mouth or my fingers baby?” you ask.

“Mouth,” Robin responds with bated breath.

You stand and remove your own clothes, Robin staring at every new inch of exposed skin as you discard them atop the pile of hers. She watches as you climb onto the bed and lay on your back, head by the top of your bed and placing a pillow below your head.

You lean up on your elbows and beckon her to you, “c’mere baby.”

She crawls on all fours up your body, capturing your mouth in a kiss and laying her naked body on your own. Skin on skin now, you moan into each other’s mouths, hips grinding into each other. You remove yourself from the kiss and Robin whines, mouth chasing after yours. 

“Ah ah, you wanted my mouth didn’t you?”

“Mhm.”

“Words baby,” you say pushing her hair behind her ear.

“Yes, please mommy.”

“That’s my good girl. Now move up baby.”

She pauses and looks at you questioningly, so you move her yourself, grabbing her ass and pulling her cunt towards your mouth.

She grabs on to the headboard and stops  herself before her sweet pussy reaches your lips.

“Good, grab the headboard,” you smile up at her, reveling in the sight of her above you. “Now ride my mouth like you rode your hand last week.”

She doesn’t move so you smack her ass causing her hips to jump and putting her cunt just close enough for you to lick a stripe up it. She moans out with a full body shudder.

“Sit.”

And she finally follows directions, bringing her pussy to your mouth and riding your face. She pushes her cunt into you and you take the chance to suck her clit into your mouth. Robin bucks her hips and moans out your name. You let go with a pop and let Robin abuse your mouth like she did your hand, licking and sucking wherever and whenever she’ll let you. Once she finds a good pace, you flick your tongue in a circle around her hole before fucking up into her. She cries out as you do and grinds further onto your face, catching her clit on the tip of your nose.

You’re growing wetter by the second with the noises and sweet taste of her pussy, so you trail your hand down your stomach and to your own center. You flick and circle your clit as Robin rides you before slowly finger fucking yourself to the same pace that your fucking her with your tongue.

You’re watching her face contort in pleasure as you touch yourself and suck and lick at her cunt, and when she looks down she’s met with your cunt-drunk eyes eager for her to finish. She grinds her hips three more times before shuddering to a stop, pussy clenching while she’s cumming in your mouth. You remove your hand from your own cunt and hold her thighs, keeping her above you as you eagerly lap up her juices, licking up her pussy and suckling her clit through her orgasm.

Her thighs are shaking on either side of your head once she comes out of her high, and she slowly lifts one leg and moves off from above you.

She looks at you with love-drunk, fucked out eyes, her eyes coming to rest on her cum glistening on your lips and chin. Robin moves her body down, hip aligned with yours and kisses you deeply, tasting herself on your lips. You groan into her as her hand traces circles around your nipples bringing them to erect tips. She flicks and pinches them, never letting her mouth leave yours, tongue searching to taste more of herself on yours. Goosebumps raise on your skin as she trails her hand down your stomach to your mound, fingers nestling between your folds to run circles round your clit. You moan and turn your head away from her and into the pillow, and her lips attach to newly exposed skin on your neck.

“You didn’t finish,” she whispers between kisses.

She sucks and bites and leaves bruises behind her as she memorizes your neck and shoulder with her lips, and your cunt with her fingers. She runs her palm down your pussy cupping you before dipping a finger into your wet, warm hole. You clench around her finger and feel her lips trail down your chest and stomach. Opening your eyes to find her on her stomach between your thighs. She pushes another finger inside you at the same time that she licks circles around your clit with her tongue. You jolt at the wetness and your hands rush to her hair to hold her there. She moans into your pussy when you grip and pull at her hair and the vibration causes the coil that was already tight in your stomach to break and your orgasm hits you like a ton of bricks. Your back arches and your thighs tighten around Robin’s head as she continues to finger fuck and lick at your cunt helping you through the orgasm that runs through you.

You don’t register when Robin removes her hand from you, or when she drops kisses along your mound, hips, stomach and breasts before laying her head atop your chest. All you remember before sleep overtakes you both are six little words said by each of you.

“I’ve loved you all this time.”

[church-of-lilith]

I would like to see the neurodivergent Abbott character notes? 👀

hello anon! for those who don’t know, this ask is in response to this post of mine. and i am here to provide you my notes. they’re long but here’s all my musings about each of the characters and my headcanons for them in terms of neurodivergency.

please note that I am in no way qualified to be making any of these headcanons. i’m not a medical professional i’m a teenager with autism & adhd just out here calling it like I see it.

Gregory Eddie

Gregory definitely shows signs of autism, and this is probably the most popular headcanon of the whole show.

- In canon right now I don’t believe he is diagnosed or ever really thought about or explored the possibility of being neurodivergent. His father doesn’t seem like the type to ever support him getting a diagnosis in early life. Moments that stuck out to me as an autistic person to lead me to this conclusion:

- His relationship with Gritty in the season 2 premiere. The whole “I just don’t get Gritty” thing. It’s a common thing for autistic people to not understand elements of culture that are important to most people. Gregory didn’t understand the hype around Gritty, and didn’t anticipate the negative backlash he would get from his coworkers upon admitting so.

- His ongoing problems with food, most notably in the episode where pizza is discussed. He has stated in canon before that there are only certain foods he can eat because of different issues with texture/temperature/flavor. i.e. “fruit should not be hot.” his boiled chicken sandwich, only eating pure dark chocolate. while I would not make these same choices in my eating habits, I understand having the ick towards certain foods. this is an autistic trait.

- Taking things too practically. Often times autistic people struggle to understand metaphors and take them way too literally. One of the examples of this I can think of in recent times was a conversation he had with Barbara in which she encouraged him to work through his problems. She said something along the lines of “This color does not look good on you.” Referring to the way he was acting. Later, he confesses to the camera that he thought he was dressed nicely that day. Clearly misunderstanding what she was trying to say.

- Having to stay organized with absolutely everything. We see this at the beginning of season two where he attempts to plan every day of the year down to the minute in order to stay in line with teaching guidelines. This, of course, before Barbara steps in and helps him realize this is improbable. Just the way he reacts at the idea of getting off schedule is incredibly reminiscent of how some people with autism become overwhelmed at the idea of things not going the exact right way.

- Gregory also really enjoys sticking to schedules. In the fire episode he tells Janine he has the fire drill schedule memorized. And during the teacher’s conference episode his need to have a schedule in order to feel comfortable is mentioned multiple times.

- In the teacher’s conference episode Gregory and Janine have a conversation about romance and relationships. He expresses that he feels like he is the problem in all of his relationships. That he’s the ‘weird’ one, so different that no one ever wants to stay. As an autistic person this one was extremely relatable to me.

In conclusion I wait for the day his neurodivergence is properly explored in canon. Because I do believe the day will come. And so does SLR apparently because at one point she tweeted an article about Gregory being great autistic representation. And then deleted it (😭)

Janine Teagues

Janine is also autistic, and let me tell you why. It all goes back to her velcro shoes (among other things but just let me have this moment real quick).

- In one of the season 2 episodes Janine talks about never learning how to tie her shoes and still not being able to, so as a result she wears velcro shoes. This is a very common (if not universal) autistic experience. It’s also a sign of childhood neglect but that’s a conversation for another day.

- As we know, she also has a problem picking up on social cues. She doesn’t let this stop her, and often does not have the social awareness to recognize when others are uncomfortable with something she’s saying or the way she’s acting until she is explicitly told so. We see this throughout the series but one moment that stuck out to me specifically was in the episode where she goes to Melissa’s house for cooking lessons. When she first gets there she won’t stop talking about her family relationships and doesn’t understand that Melissa wants her to stop talking as she loudly grinds the blender to drown her out. Even Melissa realizes it’s a moot point after awhile and gives up.

- Keeping a proper schedule and staying organized is also very important to her, (not as severely as Gregory) but still notably enough that she would probably get upset at any major variations. During the sick day episode when Ava has to sub for her we see that she has very detailed plans, like.. binders worth of plans. And she keeps her class on a tight schedule with story time, and listening to music, etc.

- Janine has the undeniable urge to fix literally every problem that comes her way. Even if the problem isn’t hers, she is so confident that she can fix it despite anyone or anything logically telling her that hey, maybe she shouldn’t. Once she gets her mind set on something, though, she cannot let it go. She has to be in control of every situation—or at least feel like she is.

Melissa Schemmenti

Probably the next most canon neurodivergent character. Personally I headcanon her as having ADHD, and at this point she canonically has dyslexia.

- Obviously in terms of her dyslexia we have that whole episode where she helps one of her students with difficulties reading.

- The way she talks with the student’s parents about getting her tested/possibly getting a diagnosis and then is clearly upset when the parents react negatively really stuck with me. Obviously when she first realized she was neurodivergent as a kid she didn’t have the resources to figure any of that out. It makes me think that she was initially resistant to getting diagnosed as she grew older (No doctor could tell her more about herself than she could. And if it ain’t broke don’t fix it right?) But at some point when she started teaching she realized she owed it to herself and in some part to the students she would be teaching to really figure herself out.

- Melissa strikes me as someone who is very impatient and gets easily frustrated with herself. But she would never get frustrated at a student who’s struggling with reading or otherwise. She doesn’t know how to go easy on herself.

- The reason I headcanon her as having ADHD is because of the way she self stims in some scenes. One that comes to mind specifically is when she’s arguing with Gregory about pizza and rocks herself back and forth.

- In one episode Melissa also has problems hearing things. It’s not mentioned again that I can remember but the auditory processing issues can be a sign of inattentive adhd (although if anything I’d say she shows some signs of both inattentive and hyperactive)

- Melissa’s obsession with firetrucks is something I would be remiss not to mention here. It’s a delightful hyperfixation and I love her for it. Her insistence on sharing this knowledge and trying to get others to enjoy her hyperfixation also screams neurodivergence to me.

Ava Coleman

Ava definitely has hyperactive ADHD. I see this a lot in the way she talks and acts.

- One of the most common signs of hyperactive ADHD is impulsivity. I would say that she makes a lot of impulsive decisions, specifically when it comes to shopping. In early season 1 we see her spending all of the school’s extra money on a large sign, for example. She also has a LOT of clothes to the point that she has her own business selling them. She also jumps into pyramid schemes with great ease.

- Another sign of that is talking excessively (and also at greater speeds). Ava talks pretty fast at times, and is always the first one to jump into a conversation with her thoughts. She has a hard time waiting her turn in conversations.

- The way she acts with the students in the episode where Gregory sends Micah to the principal’s office makes me think that Ava can relate to being ‘the problem child’ when she was in school. Her being hyperactive (unable to sit still, talking incessantly, acting impulsively etc.) makes sense under this lens. Her teachers likely wouldn’t be able to recognize her ADHD and would label her a problem, meaning she probably spent a lot of time in the principal’s office as a child herself.

Barbara Howard

My general analysis of Barbara is that she has OCD and suffers from repressed lesbianism. Both of these are rooted in her extremely religious upbringing.

- I do believe that a lot of Barbara’s OCD comes in the form of fixating on the rightness vs wrongness of things. And that this stems from her religious upbringing. An example of this is with Tamika’s mom and her utter fixation on the woman freely using profanities. This is wrong, so the woman must be immoral, and that’s a problem. When she actually gets to know Tamika’s mom and realizes that she’s actually a pretty great person, she doesn’t know how to comprehend that until Ava puts it into perspective for her. This can apply to herself too, (not wanting to roll around in the mud with melissa or having a crisis learning she’s been in the wrong with lighting her candles on school grounds.)

- Her interest in religion and the church borders on compulsive. This is why she’s very overtly religious, (introducing herself as a woman of god to anyone who will listen etc.) From a very young age I imagine that she’s had the idea of morality and being right instilled in her, which developed into this obsession as she got older.

- Barbara also seems very comforted by following a routine. She and Melissa have had the same spots at their table for years. She goes to the same place to get her nails done every week.

Jacob Hill

I do believe that Jacob suffers from an anxiety disorder of some kind. And also possibly autism but I’m less confident about that.

- Jacob comes across as a very nervous person. I suspect that this may come from his childhood although we don’t know much about it. He strikes me as a kid who was never really heard. That he’s always had a lot to say, but always somehow faded into the background when talking to parents/family. Him joining improv would add up with this, as it would finally make him the center of attention and force people to pay attention to him after being ignored by those closest to him for so many years.

- Similarly to Janine he’s not great at picking up on social cues. He doesn’t understand that people don’t appreciate his infodumping about random topics until he is explicitly told so. We see this most highlighted in the desking episode where we meet Zach for the first time and see his methods of helping Jacob stay on track of the conversation and prevent him from straying too far off topic

- He talks fast which is also something attributed to anxiety. It would also add up if he did struggle to get all his thoughts out as a kid as I suspect. Talking fast is a habit he’s grown into as an adult, so that no one can interrupt him or talk over him. If he gets all his thoughts out he doesn’t have to worry about not being heard.

- In a recent episode he talked about having night terrors, which definitely connects back to having anxiety. (Although we don’t know now frequently he has them or if that was just a one time thing). The way he reacts to the thought of Abbott turning charter also screams chronic anxiety to me. He loses it because it’s a situation he cannot anticipate.

Mr. Johnson

“Is the single most well adjusted man I’ve ever met.”

[kitkatopinions]

Having been thinking about the new ep all day, here's the thing about Ruby's explosion.

Yes, she was being irrational and harsh. Yes, as someone who has rejected all leader figures plenty of times and put her team in as the people making more choices, the narrative seeming to be trying to tell us that Ruby didn't ask for this is stupid and Ruby not acknowledging her own hand in the place she wound up wasn't good.

But it would be really disingenuous to act like WBY - and specifically importantly Blake and YANG her beloved older sister - haven't been being really oblivious, unhelpful, and unfair. Blake has at least been trying to help at the start of the season by being the one trying to keep situations from spiraling out of control and filling them in on details about the story, but even she hasn't been acting like they're actually in a serious situation, and Yang and Weiss have just been having massive attitudes the whole time not doing much at all. And even though Weiss has at least attempted a conversation with Ruby about her feelings, Blake and Yang specifically have barely done more than say 'Ruby?' questioningly and 'are you okay?' Like guys that is about the same kind of reactions I get from my coworkers when I have a headache at work. And I would be willing to overlook it if they actually acted concerned outside of those shallow moments, but instead they just act like it's an average day in Remnant where they can just banter and flirt and do slapstick humor. Let's not forget that there was literally a time where the team was walking and Blake and Yang were ahead just super caught up in each other giggling and almost holding hands, and Weiss and Ruby stopped walking to have a serious conversation while Ruby was just dejectedly unable to even talk about it, and Blake and Yang were still just walking along chatting like they didn't even notice. Like, yes they deserve love and no actually it wasn't their fault that the writers I MEAN the Ever After forced a confession, but it is their fault that they've been acting completely oblivious and uncaring to both the seriousness of their situation and Ruby's own struggles and pain. I feel like I'm justified in being frustrated by them and I feel like Ruby's really justified in being frustrated with them.

And Yang extending her arm out as if to protect Blake from Ruby? It's consistent enough with Blek to flinch away from any sort of anger or criticism, but Yang seriously was out there acting like Ruby was a danger to Blake? Ruby - Yang's supposed beloved baby sister - basically just said she feels like Yang doesn't care about her, said she was crumbling under the pressure she was facing, and couldn't just smile through it, and Yang's reaction is to angrily shield Blake without even a word to Ruby? No protest of 'that's not true,' no explanation of 'I was trying to give you space,' no guilt and apology of 'I'm sorry, I've just been so happy, I guess I didn't realize...' Imo the line there was pretty clearly drawn, my reading of that scene is that Yang will always prioritize Blake over Ruby and doesn't care enough about Ruby. I would never just stand there while my little sister basically said she felt like no one cared about her without telling her how much I love her, and I would never let a fifty year old man yell at my traumatized and crying little sister that it's her fault that someone is trying to kill her and destroyed others in the process without protesting it.

Speaking of Jaune, I think his blow up makes sense and a lot of what he said wasn't wrong. I'm making allowances because he's clearly been through a great deal and whether or not the 'Ascension' of the Paper Pleasers is actually a good thing or a full on death, Jaune thought it was a full on death and that everyone he'd been trying to take care of for years and years had just died and Ruby was talking about herself. But at the same time A. not everything he said was rational (like blaming Ruby for Neo hating her and coming to attack everyone,) B. Jaune's not one to talk considering that things like the Argus plot was his idea and the plans at the start of V8 were spurred on by his 'go for both' plot and he had no problem at all with Ruby's plan and helped carry it out and has also been treating their group as the end-all-be-all authority. And C. Jaune should not be here at all. This would be a much easier pill to go down if this was Ren (who has recently doubted their plans,) or a battle-hardened Nora (who has by her own words only made jokes and hit stuff and therefore would feel like less of a hypocrite for this,) or May Marigold (who has also doubted Team RWBY too) and all of that would feel better than the underdog hero Jaune with a history of stealing the spotlight and girls getting fridged for the sake of his pain yelling at Ruby the female protagonist for not being good enough and for being selfish. Like RWBY writers please think things through, this is a bad look. Jaune the character might have good points to make, but the rwby writers shouldn't have put him there in the first place! Especially since his pain takes focus away from Ruby's. And yes, obviously what he went through was bad and shouldn't be just dismissed, but let's remember that the writers are the ones that orchestrated - and often forced - every single circumstance that led Jaune to be where he is now.

Basically, I have problems with the argument scene.

[deadrlngers]

8, 12, 26 and 39 for Akira and Hanako? 🙈

8. What do the like best about their partner?

about hanako: she's clever and cunning, even if she doesn't want to show it plainly she's very good at plotting, and that's something akira LOVES about her (they love to see a girlboss winning)

about akira: the unwavering devotion djfkdk their determination to reach their goals and indipendence (which she also admires), akira always chose to do whatever they wanted, it didn't matter what their parents planned for their corpo future, they always held dear their self-determination (which makes the fact that they consciously chose to put themself in service of another, in this case arasaka, so interesting, they are like a dog on a leash that actually chose to have the collar on, BUT ANYWAYS i'm rambling)

12. Is there a wedding? What was the proposal like? Any kind of honeymoon?

YES THERE IS! akira is the one proposing, technically. i think they talked about marriage a few times prior to the proposal itself, so in a way, they both knew they wanted marriage to be a thing for them. the proposal is simple, and reserved as akira is, just the privacy of their home and akira declaring their love for her, how they don't see themself spending the rest of their life with anyone else. ofc the wedding is expensive, showing off both their filthy rich status (especially in hanako's case). the honeymoon isn't the most peaceful since they have a company to run plus i don't think they can just, spend their time as common tourists out and about, so probably the honeymoon is spent in some big estate of the arasaka's family, preferably on an island where it's just the two of them jdsfkd and where they try to take as few calls as they can

26. How do their friends feel about their relationship? Their families?

akira's parents are..impressed, let's say that. they aren't exactly a loving family and the news of the relationship mostly made them happy for all the economic & possible partnership between companies reasons. hanako's family on the other hand was absolutely not happy, her father never liked how close her and akira became while her brother never liked akira in general jfdskf (and the feeling was mutual). michiko..doesn't really care, actually she tries to avoid akira most of the time because she finds them scary which is an universal feeling when it comes to akira. friends..friends..coworkers count? djfdk akira's inner circle doesn't dare speak about their relationship with hanako, they are well aware of it tho and as long as their boss is happy (=not making their life more difficult) then they're happy too

39. Who initiated the relationship? Who kissed who first?  When did they realize they were in love?

it naturally developed on itself. i think hanako was the first to realize that something was absolutely going on between them, while akira simply blamed it all on their job as her bodyguard and the fact that they enjoyed her company only because it was 'interesting' chatting with her. realization hits akira when hanako's life is on the line and she gets kidnapped at the parade. the idea of losing hanako or that something bad might happen to her was unbearable. akira was uncharacteristically straightforward about their feelings when they managed to get a moment to talk with hanako after the kidnapping, and it's actually hanako who kisses them first, just seconds after akira's confession. they pined for each other for sooo long djfdk

[ppersonna]

out of my league - knj | 01

you were out of my league. got my heartbeat racing. if i die, don't wake me, cause you are more than just a dream - out of my league, fitz and the tantrums

✹ summary- Kim Namjoon was never supposed to find out about your years-long hopeless crush on him. And he most definitely was not supposed to find out about it in front of all your coworkers in a company-wide meeting.

✹ rating- explicit/18+/nsfw

✹ pairing- kim namjoon x reader

✹ word count- 6.6k

✹ genre- angst, smut, comedy

✹ chapter warnings- swearing, descriptions of sex, sexual content, namjoon being a sexy flirt, jungkook being a himbo, awkward conversations, jimin being a protective bff

✹ a/n- hello and welcome to this fic thats lived in my google docs for almost a year now. without @ladyartemesia @xjoonchildx @untaemedqueen and @chimoona, i would never have posted it. i truly owe so much of my brainstorming and creativity to their incredible brains and thoughts and ideas. i love them very much! i hope you enjoy this first chapter! please feel free to message me, talk to me abt anything!! im always here to chat. ILY!

MASTERLIST

Kim Namjoon was never supposed to find out this way.

You planned to confess your undying, unerring love for your coworker at a better time, a classier place. You would wear a dress that highlighted your features, hair cascading down your back, makeup done to perfection and spritzed with expensive perfume. You’d confess, he’d confess right back, and you’d live happily ever after.

You’d also dreamt that Kim Namjoon would have the slightest inkling of who you are before he finds out about your year long crush. He might know you as the mousy girl in the office who doesn’t talk and doesn’t contribute much other than some crunched numbers and apparently the best coffee brewer in the office. But you’d prefer he knows you well—your favorite colors and movies and foods, what makes you happy and sad; things future husbands should know.

You very much did not think it would happen in a company wide conference, full of over five hundred suit-wearing executives. You did not think it would be done by the office bully, Chungha, who carefully takes over the mic and speaks the words clearly as she presents awards of recognition.

“Congratulations to Kim Namjoon for 5 years with the company, over $4 million in revenue, and the object of ____’s lust and affection. I’m sure you two will have the happy life she’s written in her journal about. Make sure you celebrate with her today!”

The room is silent, so silent you could have heard a pin drop from a mile away. Your face is cherry red and you wish the earth would open up and swallow you whole. Your heart feels like someone has ripped it in half and you stare in horror at the girl smirking at the front. Is this what it feels like to be backstabbed? Namjoon looks perplexed—confusion written on his face as he gestures around to no one in particular like he’s saying ‘what the fuck was that?’

Awkward coughing and clapping begins and Namjoon stands to receive his award, a fine wooden fountain pen, and chances a glance around the room. He easily spots you, with your wide, frightened face. His look remains passive, not hinting what he’s thinking behind those stormy eyes, before he turns and sits back down at the table with his buddies from his department.

You seriously contemplate quitting your job. You could find a new one easily, right? Just stand up and tell your boss you quit and you’re out of there before Namjoon ever sees you again and you’ll never have to face the mean girl who’s ratting you out.

As much as the idea rolls through your head, you know you won’t do it. You love your job, love the security and finances it provides you, and you love to look at Kim Namjoon, all day every day.

You don’t understand where things went wrong.

( one month ago )

It’s 9:03 am. You finish brewing the coffee in the small staff kitchen and sigh at the aroma of the freshly ground beans. Coffee is your favorite meal, favorite time of day, favorite snack, and preferred beverage. You drink it constantly. You’re known as “coffee girl” at work, mostly because no one really bothers to get to know you beyond that. You drink coffee like it’s a devoted religion. You could drink a cup right before bed and still sleep like a baby. It was, put simply, your drink.

The office workers deem you to be the one to make the pots of coffee every morning, claiming you were the ‘best’. You didn’t mind—you preferred to make your own coffee regardless—but you believe your coworkers are trying to pass off the twenty-minute job to someone lower in the office hierarchy. And you were one step above the interns.

The coffee machine chimes to let you know it’s hot, and it’s ready for you. You eagerly pour a mug, a large one, and smile as the waft of freshly ground beans (by you, of course) fills your senses.

You nearly knock the cup out of your hand as Kim Namjoon strolls into the office, eyes set on the coffee.

You feel your throat swell up, like he’s an allergen and you’re caught without an epi-pen. Butterflies swirl in your stomach and you can’t stop staring at him. He pays you no mind, tired yet determined to pour a cup of coffee and get back to his office.

You stand in the small kitchen, clutching your coffee like a lifeline, and pray to god you don’t do something stupid.

Namjoon pours his mug, and you watch his muscular hands grip the coffee pot. He pours a hefty amount of cream and sugar into his cup—it appears even perfect male specimens have their faults. 

Your eyes dance on his face before they tango down his body. You wonder what he looks like in the morning, crawling out of bed with mussed hair and a sleepy smile painted on his face. He’d look at you and tell you you’re the most beautiful girl and kiss you deeply despite morning breath. Maybe he’d take you to the shower to press you against the tile as he fuc-

“Oh!” it startles Namjoon to see you, and the coffee in his hand swishes violently. “Didn’t see you there. Sorry!”

Your heart melts. He’s the picture of kindness and politeness. You recognize it’s been a few seconds and you still haven’t replied.

“It’s fine!”

“Great coffee, by the way,” he smiles. His teeth nearly knock you out cold with their brilliance. “Have a good day.”

He turns and exits the room without so much as a glance back at you. Your knees feel weak.

Kim Namjoon talked to you. He complimented you. He told you to have a good day. It’s the best and most significant conversation you’ve had with your secret crush.

You definitely file that away for another day when you need to reminisce on his compliment, and you scurry out of the kitchen towards your desk.

Park Jimin is waiting dutifully at your desk when you arrive, a smug smile still slapped over your features as you sip at your coffee. Namjoon spoke to you today—how lovely.

Jimin quirks an eyebrow. 

“What’s got you so perky this morning?” 

You’re normally quiet and passive, avoiding eye contact or any semblance of emotion on your face.

You look up at the blonde bespectacled boy. Park Jimin is the closest thing to a best friend in the company. He’s who you spend time with at lunch, see on weekends, and text often. You suppose he’s the closest thing to a best friend you have in your entire life.

You send him a smirk and lean in close to whisper. “Namjoon said hi to me today!”

Jimin sends you a pitiful look and pats your shoulder. Your best friend is well aware of your secret crush and while he thinks Namjoon is a nice guy, he thinks your crush is a little hopeless. He’s the most popular guy in the office, often has dates lined up every weekend. Jimin hears the way he and his friends talk in the break room. The man is definitely not hurting for female attention.

“Oh, honey,” he sighs, unenthusiastically. “That’s great.” He can’t help but feel a twinge of sadness over how excited you’re getting from a simple ‘hello’ from a coworker.

“I know, right? Anyway, lunch today?” You ask as you settle down into your cubicle.

Jimin pushes his glasses up his face and nods. “Of course! That’s why I came by this morning. I wanted to let you know that Jungkook from marketing will join us.”

You make a face, disgust etched in the lines creasing your forehead. 

“Why?”

Jungkook is well known in the company. He’s a loudmouth, a player, a clown, and everyone’s favorite comedian. He’s just not your favorite.

“Don’t be rude,” Jimin admonishes at your grimace. “He asked to join and well—he’s cute. I can’t say no to him.”

“Oh Christ, Jimin,” you groan. “Not you too! Don’t tell me you have the hots for the serial fuckboy?”

He blushes lightly and shrugs. “Maybe I do! Be nice to him today or I’ll eat all your chocolate ice cream I know you have at home.”

You stick your tongue out, petulantly. “Fine, now let me get to work or else Seokjin will be up my ass.”

Jimin smiles and kisses your cheek before he scurries away, back to human resources.

It feels as if barely any time has passed. You’re working hard, running calculations and updating spreadsheets. You have an eye for numbers, and losing yourself in an equation is just another day for you. You’re shaken from your cheerful place by a vibration from your phone, and a text alert popping on the lit screen.

jimin 12:01 pm- it’s lunchtime!! you better get your butt out here!

You smile and text back an affirmative reply, then move to grab your lunch from the company fridge. Gliding down the steps leading to the fresh outdoors, you meet Jimin at the lunch tables in the grass.

Jimin is sitting with Jungkook. You can recognize your best friend by his hair and glasses, and Jungkook by his obnoxious laughter.

“Hi,” you murmur as you sit down and open up the brown bag lunch you’ve brought.

“Hi!” Jimin is excited to see you, and just a pinch over eager to be sitting next to Jungkook.

“You know Jungkook, right?” Jimin asks, a harsh look in his eyes that reminds you to be on your best behavior.

You nod as you pull out a bag of grapes. “Oh, yeah, hey,” you smile. “I’ve seen you around.”

Jungkook delivers you a signature smirk and you feel yourself roll your eyes internally. “Yeah, you’re Coffee Girl, right?”

You pout and glare down at your brown bag lunch. Will you ever become more than just Coffee Girl?

“Yeah, I suppose that’s me.”

Jimin clears his throat to dismiss any awkwardness. 

“So, Jungkook, I hear you like working out? ___ likes to work out too. She drags me to the gym sometimes. Maybe we could all meet up sometime?” You don’t miss the hopeful lilt in his voice. Jungkook does.

“Oh, yeah?” He narrows a sexy look at you, rather—a look he thinks is sexy that you find off-putting. “What do you do at the gym? Little cardio sets with 5 pound weights?”

What an asshole.

“Sometimes,” you state as you take a bite of the homemade salad you handcrafted last night. “Most of the time I’m lifting heavy. I can bench 275 and deadlift 300.”

Jungkook looks taken back. “What, really?” He sounds breathless. “You lift more than Namjoon-hyung.”

At the sound of the love of your life’s name, you pause. Your face heats quickly and Jungkook smirks. Of course, he recognizes this and not Jimin’s obvious flirting.

“Why are you blushing?” He asks. “Did I say something?”

You’re quick to dismiss things. “Um--no. I just um,” you’re grasping at straws. “I’m hot.”

Jimin is trying not to laugh, hiding his mouth behind a petite hand.

Jungkook tilts his head. “It’s not even sunny today.”

You gulp. “Yeah, I must be hot. With a fever. M-malaria… probably.”

Jungkook snorts. 

“You have malaria? Bummer.” He picks at his nails. “I thought for a moment you had a thing for Namjoon.”

“No!” The retort is quick, too quick for normal conversation, and it gives you away.

“Aha!” Jungkook points an accusing finger at you. “You have the hots for him, don’t you?”

Your features melt, and Jimin tries to assuage the situation. “Jungkook, please don’t tell anyone,” he pleads.

Jungkook smiles at you. “That’s so cute. It’s like a little nerdy freshman crushing on the senior class president.”

You bury your head in your hands, suddenly unable to stomach any food.

“Jungkook,” Jimin’s tone becomes more firm, authoritative. “I’m asking you this as a friend. Please, don’t say anything.”

Jungkook holds his hands up to prove his innocence and waves his proverbial white flag. 

“Secret is safe with me,” he promises. “But it’s cute. I know him really well, you know. I could try to hook you two up.”

You blanch, unsure if you want Jungkook saying anything about you to the man of your dreams. 

“I’m good, but thanks,” you offer meekly. “I’m not feeling well. I’m going to head back to work, okay?”

Jimin frowns, knowing you’re feeling like a cornered animal, and nods. “Feel better, babe,” he sighs.

Jungkook watches as you leave and turns to Jimin. “Man, he’s way out of her league.”

Jimin slaps the boy in the chest. “Be nice, asshole, that’s my best friend.”

Jungkook promises to be nice, and Jimin is blissfully unaware that others are listening and that the man beside him is easy to persuade.

( present day )

The company-wide meeting adjourns soon after what is likely to be the most embarrassing moment you’ve ever lived through.

You’re grabbing at your things and trying to run out of the room, desperate to get out before anyone sees you or talks to you or laughs at you.

A hand grabs at the coattails of your suit jacket and you’re pulled backwards with a yelp. You turn to seek your captor and find the concerned face of your best friend, Jimin.

“Are you okay? What the fuck just happened?”

Jimin’s concern makes it all real. Until now you could pretend you were in a fugue state, totally dissociated from reality. Now, you realize that everyone in the entire company is aware of your crush on Kim Namjoon.

You can feel your bottom lip wobble, tears threatening to spill. Jimin murmurs an ‘oh shit’ and drags you out of the large room and into the nearest bathroom. He pushes you to sit against the sink and passes you toilet paper to dab at your eyes.

“I don’t know how she found out!” you cry. “God, I feel so stupid and embarrassed.”

It incenses Jimin. He’s holding it back to ensure you’re okay, but in reality, it’s an HR nightmare waiting to happen. He’ll find who did it and punish them accordingly.

They will suffer. 

“It’s okay, babe,” he pulls you into a hug. “Everyone will forget about it soon. They’ll think it’s just a lame office joke, okay?”

You nod, feeling the slightest bit comforted by his words. 

“How could she find out, Jiminie?” You ask with a sniffle. “You’re the only person who knows.”

Jimin sighs and shakes his head.

“I don’t know, but they’re dead. I haven’t told any-... oh, my god,” Jimin stops suddenly. You look up at him to catch what he’s thinking.

He growls and balls his fists. 

“Jungkook knew.”

You let out a sob and bawl your eyes out into the tissue you’re holding. Jimin holds you tighter while he conjures up a hundred different ways to hurt someone and make it look like an accident.

“Don’t worry,” Jimin sighs, trying to comfort both you and himself. “I’m HR. I have to handle this. I’ll make sure they get what they deserve.”

You feel a sting of pain for Jimin. He’s been hopelessly doting on the man who spilled the beans for a few months now, even got to take him on a few dates. It was still nothing serious, but Jimin was clearly smitten.

“I’m sorry you have to do that, Chim,” you whisper. “I know how you feel about him.”

“Yeah, well,” he swallows thickly. “You’re more important than any asshole.”

Jimin holds you tight for a few minutes longer, before you clean yourself up and steel yourself. Ignore everyone, Jimin encourages. Just get to work, he says. Then you can go home and we’ll drink wine and forget about it all, he promises.

You replay his words in his head like a prayer as you walk down the corridors and towards your office. Everyone in the hallways stops to stare at you. They lean towards their friends and whisper. You hear snippets of their gossip, like “Namjoon” and “out of her league”. It drives the sharp blade lodged in your chest even further. It threatens to collapse your lungs and break your ribs.

You make it to your desk safe and sound and bury yourself in work and forcibly ignore the gawking and the stares. 

Just make it home. Just get through the day. You’re almost there.

You could do this.

You nearly make it the entire day before running into the one person you didn’t want to see, Kim Namjoon.

At the end of the day, you’re taking the stairs down to the parking garage instead of the elevator. The elevator is too busy, too many people, and you’re trying to avoid the stares and giggles at your expense. The stairs are always deserted and you figure it’s your safest bet.

You can nearly hear the wine calling your name at home. A delicate glass of Sauvignon Blanc and some chocolate ice cream and a good cry—it sounds like the best and only way to unwind after the worst day you’ve ever had in your life.

The chanting of your name gets louder and you wonder if you’ve finally lost your mind—if you’re actually hearing your wine bottles all the way at home talking to you.

No, wait. The voice is real, and coming from behind you. You turn around to face who’s calling you and nearly faint at the sight.

Kim Namjoon stands on the landing above you, one strip of stairs between you.

“Hey!” He seems glad he’s caught you. “I’ve been calling your name for a minute.”

You swallow and search for an answer. 

“Sorry, I’m-.. I guess I’m just a little out of it today.”

Namjoon grimaces. 

“Yeah, about that…” he begins as he takes the steps down to be on equal ground as you. Your heart is spinning wildly. He’s so close to you. He’s talking to you. On any other day you’d be erupting towards the sky like a firework. But today isn’t any other day.

“I feel like I should apologize,” he states. “I don’t know what happened. I didn’t plan it or anything.”

Damn him and his kindness. Damn him and his cute, awkward smile.

“No, no,” you assure. “I know you didn’t. You don’t have to apologize.”

It’s hard to make eye contact with the man. You want to, know it’s important in intense conversations like this, but the thought of him seeing you—really seeing you makes you ache inside.

“It was a really shitty prank,” he begins. “I’m sure you don’t even know who I am, let alone have a crush on me.”

For the millionth time that day, your face heats to a near boil. You stammer and you’re sure you’ve blown any chance at even thinking about a date with Namjoon.

“Oh, uh, right,” you seek an answer, beg your brain to pick something to say that doesn’t make you sound stupid. “I do.”

“You do what?” He’s confused and you widen your eyes at what just left your mouth.

“I do know you! I mean, I do have a crush on you! Oh, fuck,” you shove your face into your hands. “Please, ignore that. I need to go. Sorry!” You don’t give him a chance to reply, you book it out of the stairway as fast as your heels will take you.

Today was the worst day you’ve suffered through in your life.

The next few days aren’t much better.

Not only are you “coffee girl”, you’re now also sarcastically called “Namjoon’s girl”. As much as you hate your initial title, you’d prefer it to the new one they throw at you as you walk by.

Jimin rats out Jungkook and Chungha to the bosses. They get two weeks probation and they have to write you apology letters if they wish to keep their permanent files clean of any reprimands. It’s a slap on the wrist, and everyone involved knows it. Jimin is furious and wants the boss to reconsider. You tell him not to push it. You’d rather this be over and everyone to forget it even happened. Jimin unwillingly agrees.

You’re working at your desk, earphones shoved in your ears to diffuse the gossip in the room, when you feel a tap on your shoulder. You turn and are greeted with the face of Judas Iscariot himself, Jeon Jungkook.

“Hi,” he sounds sheepish, cheeks reddening.

You narrow your eyes at him, sharper than steel. “What the fuck do you want?”

He winces, knowing he deserved that. “Well, I just wanted to apologize. I know they told me to write you a letter, but it seems too impersonal…”. 

You can’t believe Jungkook is sucking his ego up and actually coming to you to apologize. You thought he’d for sure be the one to cop out and send a shitty letter.

He continues. 

“I just wanted to let you know that I’m sorry that all went down. I didn’t mean to tell her. She got me drunk and said she saw me eating lunch with you and Jimin. I think she was jealous or something and it slipped out. I know that’s not an excuse. I fucked up your trust and Jimin’s trust. But I just wanted you to know I didn’t do it to be an asshole. She sort of duped me.”

You pause as you take in the man’s apology. He didn’t have to come to you in person. He could have easily taken the shitty route and half-assed a letter to you. But he didn't, and he owned up to his mistake. God dammit.

“I appreciate your apology, Jungkook,” you sigh and you see his body visibly relax. “I’m still mad, but I guess the anger is at her for doing it in the first place. I’m sorry she tricked you.”

He breathes a sigh of relief and kneels down beside you. “I’m really happy you believe me. I was worried you were going to kick me in the nuts.

“I won’t lie, I thought about it.”

He smiles with you, and you feel like this is the restart of a friendship. “I definitely deserved it.”

You shrug and smile. “Jimin would kill me for hurting you. He might even kill me for thinking about hurting you.”

Jungkook’s smile drops at the name of your best friend. Yikes. Looks like there’s still trouble in paradise.

“I think you’d be in similar company with Jimin right now. He’s not speaking to me.”

You let out a breath through your nose. “Yeah, he’s a little protective of me.”

“For good reason,” he admits. “You’re like a cute little flower. A cute nerdy flower.”

“Jungkook,” you warn. “I just forgave you after I was humiliated in front of the entire company. I’d be careful with calling me nerdy right now.”

“Fuck, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it in a bad way.”

It’s hard to stay mad at the boy, no matter how much you dislike his reputation around the office. The fact that he humbled himself enough to seek you out and apologize is proof enough to you of his character.

“It’s okay, Jungkook. I forgive you,” you smile. “Thank you for apologizing.”

He rubs the back of his neck anxiously as his cheeks flare red.

“Yeah, it felt pretty shitty to just… do anything else. Plus, you seem really cool.”

“You seem great, too, Jungkook.”

He smiles and pulls you in for a hug, catching you off guard. For the fuckboy type, he’s surprisingly sensitive and soft. You like that about him.

“I’ll see you around, okay?” He says as he pulls away from you.

“Maybe you should apologize to Jimin, too?” 

His smile drops, but he nods anyway. “Yeah, maybe I’ll go find him now.”

“Good luck,” you offer with a pat on his shoulder.

With a sad smile, he turns and heads down the hallway towards the HR department. You pray Jimin shows mercy to the handsome boy.

A few weeks go by, and you’re sure that everyone has forgotten about you and your most embarrassing moment to date. You make the coffee, you calculate the numbers, everyone ignores you. Things return to relative normalcy.

Until it doesn't. The moment you think you're safe is the moment your guard comes down and everything falls apart around you.

It's when you're in the staff kitchen, grinding fresh beans to brew a second pot of coffee, that it happens.

The kitchen is fuller than usual. You normally try to wait until the lunchtime crowd dwindles and leaves to make your second pot, but you're so desperate for the caffeine that you can't find it in you to care.

You trudge into the kitchen with your handy coffee mug clutched in your tired hands and head towards the cupboards to grind up the beans.

There's a few groups of coworkers lingering in the room, and as your grinder whirs the beans around into a powder, you chance a look around to see who's among the crowd.

Your eyes flick immediately to where a hearty laugh erupts. It makes your heart still in your throat. Namjoon sits with his usual crowd of friends, hand gripping a homemade sandwich while the other assists him in telling his story to his friends. He pays you no mind—why would he?—and you can't help but stare at the way his dark brown hair lays perfectly against his forehead, and his eyes crinkle so cutely at the edges when he smiles.

You nearly forget about the coffee grounds—you're snapped out of your Namjoon-induced trance when suddenly a woman's laugh echoes around the room.

"Look at her," the voice states.

You peer up and see a girl you vaguely recognize. Is she from Marketing? Or perhaps Sales? You’re not sure, but she’s staring at you with a sneer.

“She’s so weirdly obsessed with Namjoon. It’s so creepy.”

Your face turns cherry red and you’re sure your lungs stop functioning. The air your body needs to breathe freezes and your chest aches. 

Namjoon turns to look at the girl before he looks and sees you grasping your coffee grounds tightly.

“Chungha was right—it’s so weird. Namjoon, you should talk to HR about this!”

Namjoon turns back to the gossiping coworker and frowns. “Can you leave it alone? She wasn’t even doing anything.”

The girl huffs and crosses her arms over her chest and looks back at Namjoon.

“How can you stand to be in the same room as her? She clearly thinks she has a chance with you.”

Her words come out like a bite. She punctuates her point with a harsh laugh and the group around her mumbles and chuckles in agreement.

You’re desperately grabbing at anything you can, wanting to leave as quickly as possible before you’re embarrassed further.

“Well, she does!” Namjoon replies loudly, annoyance written in his features. “I was actually going to ask her to dinner this weekend in private, but since everyone is so fucking interested in my love life, I have to do it publicly.”

The room falls silent, and your favorite mug falls out from your hands and shatters on the floor. All sets of eyes stare at you while yours widen with disbelief—you don't even care that you’re standing in a pool of old coffee and shattered ceramic. 

Namjoon stands and heads over to you, bending down to pick up the shards of your coffee mug. You take a few stunted breaths to kneel and help. 

His eyes peer into yours. They’re warm—a chocolate brown color that makes you feel safe.  

“What do you say?” He asks with a smile so gentle it nearly breaks your heart. “Will you let me take you out this weekend?” 

You’re gaping like a fish and the surrounding room is silent—bated breath waiting for your reply. 

“Yes, I would l-love that.” 

His smile turns even brighter, and he stands to throw the broken mug away. 

“I’ll email you the details, okay?”

Your head nods dumbly without thinking. His eyes sparkle as he smiles at you, and he extends his hand down to you to assist you off the floor. As your hand slips into his, you can’t help but feel how soft and strong he feels. You wonder what his hand would feel like caressing your face, smoothing down the expanse of your bare back, running down the length of your body.

The thoughts shake out of you as he winks and kisses your hand gently, causing the gossiping coworker to grunt her disapproval and for murmurs of shock to echo around the room.

“I’ll talk to you later, doll.” Namjoon winks at you before he grabs his sandwich and leaves the room, gesturing to his crew to follow along.

The place on your hand felt warm where his lips once lingered. You no longer cared about the angry glares from the rest of your coworkers. Your heart beats wildly in your chest, and you leave the kitchen nearly floating on cloud nine.

Email from: Kim Namjoon

Sent: 3:06 pm

Subject: Hey good lookin ;)

Hey! 

Just wanted to see how you are! I’m sorry about what happened at lunchtime. That was super petty and uncalled for. I really wanted to ask you out, and I hope I didn’t embarrass you too much by doing it in front of everyone.

I was wondering if you’d like to go out this Friday night after work? Say around 7? If you send me your address, I’ll pick you up.

Let me know!

Xoxo, Joon

You’re sure if you weren’t sitting in your tiny cubicle, you’d be screaming your lungs out.

The second the notification of the email came through, direct from the man of your desires himself, your body froze.

You re-read the message, over and over and over.  

The winky emoji, the xoxo, the nickname ‘joon’. It’s all so much and makes the grin on your face threaten to split your lips in half.

Your fingers press the “FWD” button and you quickly send the message to Jimin, before you stand demurely, attempting to give off an air of professional confidence. You need to talk to Jimin, now.

As soon as you’re out of the eyesight of suspicious coworkers, you bolt down the hallway towards Human Resources. Your high heels click loudly on the tiled floor, but the sound doesn’t even register in your mind. All you can think about is Namjoon, the email, the press of his lips on your hand, the way his smile made you feel as if you could fly.  

The door to HR swings open with your tight grip around the doorknob, and you open your mouth to call to Jimin, the lone employee, when you’re startled by the sight ahead of you.

Jimin sits on the edge of his expansive desk with his arms thrown around Jungkook’s neck and is clearly engaged in a deep, sensual kiss. At the sound of the door opening, they quickly break apart, with matching cherry red blushes on their cheeks and mused hair.

“Oh, shit,” you gasp. 

The men are silent and you can’t help but giggle after a moment passes. “I’ll take it you two made up?”

Jungkook flashes you a dopey grin, one that gives you an answer, while Jimin smirks haughtily.

“Jungkook and I were just discussing, umm… his 401k.”

Jungkook looks at the blonde boy for a moment, confused, before he gets it. “Yeah! Totally. Retirement. Love to t-talk about it?”

You laugh out loud and walk towards the couple.

“I’m sure it was a titillating discussion,” you tease. “I have good news though, if it’s okay to interrupt this retirement planning session.”

Jimin nods and Jungkook rubs at the back of his neck awkwardly. “I guess I should leave?”

“It’s okay,” you smile. “I trust you.”

Jungkook smiles as if he’s just won the lottery. He looks between you and Jimin, face pure and excited like a puppy.

“What’s up?” Jimin asks as he moves to sit down at his desk.

“I forwarded you an email. Read it.”

Jimin nods and logs on to his posh computer, scrolling and clicking before narrowing his eyes and reading.

“Oh, my god.” Jimin’s face is shocked—it's written all over his features. “Namjoon asked you out?!”

Jungkook’s child-like grin turns into one of shock himself. He runs around to stand behind Jimin, eyes seeking over the words of the email.

“Well, hot damn,” Jungkook whistles. “He asked her out.”

Jimin exchanges a look with Jungkook, one that you’re not sure you can read. It quickly slips your mind, however, as you’re more focused on the task at hand.

“Can you come over tonight after work and help me pick out something to wear?” You ask excitedly.

Jimin smiles at you, a touch of sadness in his eyes, before he nods.

“Of course, babe,” he assures. “We’ll make sure you look nice and hot for the date with Mr. Kim.”

“Thank you!” You squeal as you wrap your arms around your best friend. He hugs you back before you scurry out of the office and back to your cubicle, itching to reply to the message.

Jimin sighs as the door to his office closes behind you.

“Kook, please don’t tell me he’s going to break her heart. He’s asking her out to make himself feel better about this, isn’t he?” 

Jungkook slips his hand into Jimin’s and squeezes. 

“I’ll find out, baby.”

Jimin smiles and nods appreciatively at the boy, before leaning up and kissing him.

Jungkook smiles against his lips, and is determined to ensure the young HR specialist never hates him again, even if he has to go behind his hyung’s back to ensure his new boyfriend’s happiness.

Jungkook has one mission now, and that’s ensuring Namjoon takes you on the greatest date known to man.

He grills Jimin with questions about what you like over dinner one night. Jimin finds it endearing that Jungkook is so eager to rectify his mistakes, but he still can’t help but worry that Namjoon is doing this to save face—not because he actually likes you.

“So, what does she like doing?” Jungkook asks as he spins his pasta around his chopsticks idly.

Jimin smiles as he takes a bite of the ramen Jungkook has thoughtfully prepared for their stay-at-home date.  

“I’ve told you already! She’s easy to figure out.” Jimin pats Jungkook’s hand gently. “She loves cooking and baking, working out, daydreaming about Namjoon.” 

“Cooking, hm,” Jungkook looks thoughtful as he takes a bite. “I think Namjoon can work with that. I’ll let him know!”

Jimin tries to hide the anxiety brewing in his stomach. He’s had to plaster on a fake smile for you while you tried on different outfits, wondering which will be the one to finally convince Namjoon he is the one for you. It’s hard to fake it around his boyfriend, too—but something tugs in his stomach that flares the cynical side of him.

Namjoon went from not knowing of your existence, to watching you get publicly embarrassed in a matter of minutes. While Namjoon isn’t a terrible guy, Jimin knows he doesn’t like anything to tarnish the gentleman reputation he’s built in the office. And as much as Jimin likes him, and surely likes his friend Jungkook, he can’t help but feel skeptical.

Jungkook hurriedly pulls out his phone and types away, letting his elder friend know of what he’s found out. Jimin swallows his food, and his pride, and hopes to god his growing cynicism is wrong.

Friday comes slower than you’d like. You wake up every day during the week, one day closer, and your eagerness hits peak levels. Namjoon sees you in the hallways during the week and winks at you, hands shoved in his tight slacks that make you salivate.  

He emails you again Thursday afternoon, confirming things and getting your address. You reply in nanoseconds, uncaring how overeager you come off. 

By the time your alarm clock rings on Friday morning, you’ve already been awake for 4 hours.

All you can do is daydream about the date, the way his hand fits into yours, the warmth of his eyes when he smiles at you.

It’s what fuels you through work.

You hope to god the numbers you’re attempting to work during the day come out right, because your mind is elsewhere for more than most of the day. There isn’t enough coffee in the world, but also your body feels as if you’ve overdosed on caffeine already.

The clock eeks towards 5:00 pm and you’re bolting out the door at 4:56 to head home and get ready for your date.

Jimin attempts to meet you before you leave, but your desk is cold and empty by the time he gets there.  

He sighs and heads back towards his office to gather his things, waving bye to various coworkers as they file out of the corporate building.

He turns the corner towards his office but stops in his tracks as he sees Namjoon’s back to him, phone pressed to his ear.

“Baby, I’ll come over later tonight, okay?” Namjoon speaks into the phone.

Jimin feels his heart fall into the pit of his stomach. He retreats and hides behind a wall, ear carefully peeled to listen to the tall man’s conversation.

“I’m going on this date with that chick from work,” he sighs. “It won’t last more than a few hours. Poor girl has a crush on me and you know the usual assholes won’t leave her alone.”

Jimin bites his lip and clenches his fist. Namjoon thinks he means well, but he knows his suspicions have been confirmed, and he’s torn inside. He wants to tell you, to warn you not to get too invested in the man, but he also has no interest in popping the bubble you’ve been in since the day he asked you out.

Jimin lets it simmer for now. He decides he’ll monitor Namjoon and cut things off if it appears the man strings you along for fun.

Namjoon finishes his phone call with a promise to see whoever is on the other end of the phone later that night, and Jimin quickly pulls out his phone and fakes a conversation with no one when he hears the man approach.

“Oh, Kookie,” Jimin giggles, leaning against the wall casually. “I can’t wait to see you tonight, either, babe.”

Namjoon walks towards Jimin and makes eye contact with the HR specialist.

“Bye, Kook! See you tonight, baby.” Jimin finishes up the fake phone call as Namjoon arrives next to him, and he plasters on his best fake smile.

“Congrats on you and Jungkook,” he speaks sincerely.

Jimin hates how nice he is, hates that he’s a nice guy who gets too wrapped up in his own good looks and reputation.

“Thanks, Namjoon,” Jimin smiles uneasily. “You too! Have fun on your date tonight.”

Namjoon’s face lights up and Jimin desperately wishes he could go back in time to 30 seconds ago, before he heard the conversation, and believe that Namjoon truly wanted to date you.

“Thanks, should be fun, huh?” He winks and nudges Jimin, before he waves a goodbye and continues out the door.

Jimin pulls his phone out of his pocket and dials the number of his boyfriend.

“Hey, baby. We’ve got a problem.”

tag list! - @jimidol @aretha170 @dearbambideer​ 

[havethetimeofyourstyles]

in which a new relationship sparks up in the restaurant. 

a/n: hi loves! i’m back with a new story, and this is for nat’s @harrystylescherry​ playlist fic challenge! the song i chose is ‘say it’ by maggie rogers, which is one of my absolute favorite songs! hope you all like it, please reblog and leave feedback!

WORD COUNT: 13.8k words of waiter!harry x waitress!yn 

WARNINGS: angst and some smut 

COME INTO MY INBOX AND LETS TALK ABOUT ‘SAY IT’ i’d love to know your thoughts!

pls rb to share <3

It was eleven in the morning when Harry walked through the back door of ‘Spring,’ ready to start his long day of being on his feet while waiting tables. 

He walked to the staff’s lounge that held their lockers and a bench before looking around to see if anyone else was in the locker room; he turned the dial of his lock pad to open his blue locker. His coworkers would always tease him about being so secretive when he knows that no one would actually steal from him, but better to be safe than sorry, and he couldn’t imagine how awkward that would be confronting one of his coworkers if they actually had stolen from him. 

He put his white canvas tote bag that was printed in a brown text that said ‘Celestial Natural Foods’—a store in Hawaii—in his locker and hanging it on one out of the two hooks before grabbing his black waist apron and tying it around his waist. 

The restaurant’s attire was a simple white or black button down with black trousers. The manager of the restaurant, Irene, told the staff that they could choose either color shirt whenever they pleased. As for jewelry, she didn’t mind when her waiters and waitresses wore jewelry, as long as it wasn’t interfering with how they held the plates of food, causing them to drop it. Harry was glad to hear that Irene allowed jewelry because his rings and necklaces made him Harry. Twisting his rings and fixing his necklaces, he took a quick glance at the small mirror that was stuck on the inside of the door with a magnet, and combed his hair back with his hands before closing his locker shut and locking it. 

He washed his hands at the sink next to the locker room, and he smiled at the commotion and noise from behind him that came from the kitchen crew. They were prepping for the dinner hour, chopping up various vegetables, making the restaurant’s famous dressing and sauces, and baking the side dishes that usually took a while in the oven. 

“Hey, Harry!” Jet, one of the sous chefs, greeted as he looked up at Harry with a big smile as he continued chopping up cabbage like the professional chef that he was. 

Harry chuckled, amazed at his knife skills. “Hey, Jet. How are you today?” He leaned against the stainless steel countertop as he talked to Jet through the open space of the shelves, where the food rested under the heated and dim light when it was ready to be served. 

“I’m doing great! How was your three day vacation?” 

“It was okay. It went by fast, but I missed it here anyways,” Harry responded with a smile. Jet laughed, nodding. 

“Well, we missed you too. Anyways, Irene told me to tell you that she’s looking for you.” Harry squinted his eyes slightly, not knowing whether Irene looking for him was a good or bad thing, and Jet seemed to notice what he was thinking. “Don’t worry. I’m pretty sure it’s nothing bad.” 

Harry nodded, feeling somewhat relieved. Jet was his closest friend at Spring, ever since Harry started working as a waiter three years ago. He desperately needed a job because being his own boss and freelancing as a photographer could be difficult sometimes; and building up a client list when he first started out was even harder. But three years later, he was able to get his name around through his clients, and he earned enough where he could technically quit his job at Spring and focused purely on photography; however, Harry liked the restaurant too much to just quit—he liked serving people, believe it or not. His charms go a long way for respectful and kind customers, and of course, a great tip. Most of his friends always worked here as well, as he didn’t have quite a lot of friends since he moved from London, but his coworkers had become his very own friends, and he loved them too much to leave. 

“Thanks, I’ll see you when we open!” Harry said as Jet waved to him, watching him walk around the counter to find Irene who was talking to a woman he’s never seen before. 

He’s always loved walking through the restaurant because it had such a friendly and open vibe with white painted walls, trees planted in a line in the middle of the floor, and a big glass ceiling for a solarium ambience. His favorite part was that there were no walls to separate the dining area from the kitchen, so customers could see straight through the kitchen and watch the chefs work on their food with just a turn of their heads. 

“Ah, there he is,” Irene said once Harry was close enough. “I’m glad you’re early.” 

“Irene, I’m always early, what do you mean?” Harry breathed out a chuckle. 

“I know you are. I’m just glad you’re extra early today because I need you to train this lovely woman next to me.” Irene stepped out of the way to reveal you to the waiter that was going to train you today. 

Harry looked at you, and immediately, his breath was caught in his throat. The light that was provided through the glass ceiling cast down at you, giving you a glow that was ethereal, and he mentally thanked the interior designer of the restaurant from so many years ago for insisting on putting a glass ceiling instead of a regular, covered one. There you were, standing in the open light as you flashed him a smile that almost made him collapse due to how weak his knees were, and he physically had to place a hand on the brown wooden table next to him to keep himself up. You were stunning, to say the least. 

“Hi, I’m Y/N,” you offered him a hand, smiling softly at him. He shook your hand, feeling the softness of your small hand and how it contrasted to his large and somewhat rough hand. 

“I’m Harry. It’s lovely to meet you.” He smiled, two dimples indenting his cheeks. You noticed that his left dimple was more prominent than his right, but either way, you thought he was a gorgeous man. 

Yours and Harry’s eyes had lingered a bit longer, and once you had caught yourself staring, you forced yourself to take your eyes off him, even though it was difficult to. And that’s when you knew it was going to be a slight problem working around him. 

“Now that introductions are out of the way,” Irene interrupted. She turned towards Harry. “Harry, this is our newest addition to our waiting staff. You’ve been here long enough and it seems like you’re here everyday, so I’m going to leave her with you to train.” Once she was down, Irene turned towards you. “Y/N, you’re going to train with Harry for the rest of the week. It’s usually two weeks that are required for training, but since you’ve had waiting experience before, I’ll knock it down to one, and by the end of the week, we’ll see how you’re doing and where you are with everything. Sounds good?” 

You nodded excitedly, giving her a bright smile before she clapped her hands and said ‘great.’ Harry looked at you the entire time, and he just knew that you were the type of person that could light up a room with your beautiful and bright smile. 

Irene turned towards Harry once more. “Show her the ropes, introduce her to people, and just make her comfortable, yeah?” Harry nodded, teasingly saluting at his boss as he earned a laugh from her. 

Irene left, leaving the two of you, but your attention was preoccupied with the restaurant as you eagerly looked around, getting familiar with the place you’d hoped to be stable at for a while. 

Harry cleared his throat, to which you immediately looked at him. He gave you a smile before he said, “So, ready for your first day?” 

“Ready!” You exclaimed, tone a bit too excited, making you slightly embarrassed, so you curled your lips into your mouth and looked around the restaurant again to hide your slight embarrassment. 

Harry giggled. “Don’t look around too much—you might get tired of this place before you even start,” he teased, completely forgetting how shy and embarrassed you looked. 

“I think I’m gonna like it here,” you confessed immediately, feeling a certain comfort once you walked into the restaurant. Hell, the moment you researched the restaurant, you loved the place. 

“Well, I’m glad to hear that.” Harry led you around the counter where customers could watch the chefs in action as they cooked their meals. “This is where you could get all the supplies needed—napkins, extra plates, utensils, place mats, everything should be here. If not, then it’ll usually be in the kitchen, right over here.” He walked over to the kitchen where there were more supplies under the table, and pointed below the table. “Here’s more if the ones behind the counter run out, and if they do run out and you just so happen to be there, please make sure to refill it.” You nodded understandingly. 

Harry walked you through the steps of how the system of the restaurants worked as he imputed a demo order into the system on the touchable screen. There were five order screens, one in each corner of the restaurant, one behind the counter, and one in the kitchen; there shouldn’t be any collision or anyone waiting for one of the severs to finish with the screen because there were only about four to five servers working every shift considering it was a small restaurant. Harry then walked you along on where to pick up the order as every dish had its receipt with the order printed on the paper along with the table number. He told you that the table numbers are in order of how the tables are set up—number one starts with the countertops since it’s closest to the entrance, following along the walls, and the tables in the middle were numbered last. 

You liked how easy their routine and system was that you were sure you’d have it down by the end of the week. Harry made sure to introduce you to the staff that you two passed by as he led you throughout the restaurant; he made you feel comfortable right from the bat, making sure to make a few jokes here and there that certainly released some tension in your shoulders from nerves. You were grateful that he made you laugh--you were worried that you wouldn’t like your coworkers or they would be mean and snarky because you’re the newbie, but with Harry, it seemed like you two were getting along quite well; he was polite, helpful, and kind. 

“So, that’s pretty much it.” He looked at the time on his Apple Watch, reading a quarter to six in the evening, 15 minutes until Spring opened for dinner. “Do you have any questions?” 

You tried thinking of anything that you could ask, but your mind seemed to have collected all the information Harry had told you and retained it quite well. “No, nothing I can think of at the moment.” 

“Great. For now, do you mind checking the placemats and the table decor for me?” You nodded helpfully. “And then if you have any remaining time left, just chill out and take a breather for a second, and then come find me when we open.” 

“Okay. Sounds good.” You smiled at him sweetly, making him smile back before he walked away and towards the kitchen. 

You headed towards the dining room, making sure the woven placements were symmetrical and even; you also straightened out the utensils that made their way out of line or off the tablemats. You did this for the rest of the ten minutes you had of peace before you made your way through the restaurant to find Harry. 

The entire time you were in the dining room, Harry was in the locker room, mindlessly on his phone to waste time. He was lucky that he didn’t have to do anything before the restaurant opened, so he had some spare time to relax for a bit. He tried cooling down to get the pink flush that painted his cheeks off, but that’s what happened when he was around you; immediately, you had already had this effect on him, making him blush and nervous around you, and he didn’t know what it was. Maybe it was the way you brightly smiled at him, practically gleaming; or the way you laughed at his jokes, which even he could admit are a bit corny and bad—a very dad-like joke, but you still laughed. 

Whatever it was, he knew that he was fucked. 

Dinner time was a rush. Spring was busy and full; the reservation booklet was booked with no space to cater to walk-ins. 

You were shadowing Harry as you followed him around like a lost puppy, watching him interact with the customers, occasionally pulling out his charm so he would get a big tip. You couldn’t imagine if you were a customer and Harry was your server because your face would heat up instantly, and it would be difficult to contain a smile on your face. He had such a natural charm to him, making him naturally flirty as he flashed customers his smile and laughing at their horribly made jokes. 

For half of the night, you simply followed him around, watched the paths he took when he got the customers’ food and his overall routine of things. With every table he got assigned to, he made sure to introduce you to the party, always glancing over at you once he said your name as you greeted the customers with a bright smile. Harry nearly had to stop every time he glanced over at you as it seemed like your beauty always distracted him. 

You helped him with dealing with the plates, beverages, and getting extra necessities such as cheese, hot sauce, or extra utensils and plates for the table. 

Once the restaurant died down a bit, you and Harry were able to walk a bit slower, relaxing each time a party leaves. When there was about an hour and a half left of your shift and till the restaurant closes, Harry asked you if you’d like to take orders, saying it’ll be best if he observed how you would talk and serve the customers, and you excitedly said ‘yes.’ Harry was only assigned to five to six tables during his shift, and since it was near closing time, there were only two that had just arrived. 

Harry politely introduced himself, telling the parties that you were new and shadowing him, but you were going to take over for the rest of their stay at Spring. He watched you kindly talk to them, occasionally making small talk as you laughed with them; you talked about your favorite items on the menu, along with your favorite selection of wine. This time, Harry helped you with your tasks that you had done before you two switched off, and he immediately admitted to himself that the two of you made such a great team. It was only your first day here, and he already saw how naturally the both of you moved around one another, along with communicating so well with each other. 

You were bidding the last party in the restaurant goodbye with a wave and telling them to enjoy the rest of their evening before you grabbed the mason jar that held the bill, along with the tips. You walked over to the kitchen where Irene was counting all the money and placed the mason jar besides her, giving her a smile before walking over to the locker room. 

Harry was sitting on the bench with his phone in his hands, and looked up once you entered the room. 

“How was your first day?” He smiled. 

“It was actually really great. The energy here is amazing.” 

“Well, I’m glad. You’re a natural, and it helps both of us that you already have restaurant experience.” Harry completely put his phone away into his tote bag, giving you his attention, which you really admired. Some people would make small talk and quickly end the conversation to go back on their phones. “Where did you work before, if you don’t mind me asking?” 

“I actually moved here from NorCal—San Francisco—just two weeks ago. But I worked at one of the restaurants at Pier 49. The restaurant was pretty small and we weren’t as busy as it was here, only on the weekends we would get a bit busy. So, this is definitely completely different than being outside and smelling the fresh ocean a few feet away,” you explained, chuckling. 

“Wow, SF, that’s quite the trip. But we’re glad to have you. I think you’re fitting right in.” 

“Thank you. I already like it here.” Harry gave you a warm smile, grateful that you had a great first day, and that Spring gave you a good first impression for you to stay. 

The two of you chatted a bit, talking about the customers you had and laughing at the jokes they made or the conversations they talked about. It was kind-hearted and fun, and a conversation that made you feel light; it wasn’t anything serious. It ended when it was time for closing, cleaning up and making sure everything was in order for tomorrow afternoon’s shift. 

Irene handed the staff their tips for the night, which you amounted for $120 for a Sunday night. It wasn’t bad for your first night of tips, and you knew you would be working a lot more since this was your only job and you weren’t doing anything else. 

As everyone walked outside into the staff parking lot, everyone said their goodbyes to one another, spreading apart and walking out to their vehicles. 

Once you opened your car door, Harry called out for you from the opposite side of where you parked. 

“Yeah?” You raised your brows. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” He offered a smile before getting into his car and starting it, but he waited until you were safely inside of your car and out of the parking garage, and then he would leave. 

He couldn’t help but notice the smile that appeared onto your face before you got inside your car, and he couldn’t help but think about how incredibly beautiful you are. 

The entire week went on just like your first day. You were getting more comfortable with the flow of the restaurant, and where everything was. You continued shadowing Harry, but some days, he would let you serve your customers for the entire shift. 

Now that it was Friday evening, you couldn’t wait to relax the next day. You had told Irene that you were available all days of the week, and since you were new and still needed to complete training, she scheduled you for Sunday to Friday, getting Saturday off, which you appreciated. When you told yourself that you were able to work all day, you didn’t realize how exhausting and tiring that was until it came down to the end of the week as your feet ached, telling you to sit down for at least an entire day. 

Once it was closing time, you were finally able to catch a breath as you cleaned up part of the dining room. Chatter and laughter was heard from the kitchen quite loud as it echoed against the walls; you smiled, enjoying the sound of laughter, especially when it came from people you knew. 

As you were mindlessly wiping down tables, Harry walked up to you with two cocktails in his hands, smiling as he handed you one. You raised your brows, hesitant to take it from him as you wondered if it was allowed to drink since you were technically still on the clock. 

“Irene made them for us, if that’s what you’re wondering,” he said as if he read your mind. You breathed out a chuckle, taking a glass before thanking him and clinking your glass with his before taking a sip of the cold tequila drink. You sighed in relief, and Harry giggled. “Do you have any plans for tonight? I know it’s almost midnight, but I mean…you could still.” He felt his ears heat up, feeling a tad bit nervous when he was around you. 

“No, I don’t. I don’t really have any friends in SoCal, but I can't wait to go home and sleep.” 

“O-Oh okay, I was just gonna ask if you’d like to stay for a bit longer.” 

“Here? For what?” You asked curiously. 

“Well, the lot of us get together after night shifts to do a mini celebration at the end of the long and busy week. We only do it Fridays since that’s when most of us are working all together,” he said referring to the bunch laughing and talking in the kitchen. You did notice now that you had been working with the same group of people, and partially that was because you only mostly worked night shifts and so did the rest. “We usually stay for an hour—drink, eat, talk. It made us closer, actually, so I’d thought you might like to join since you’re new,” he invited.

You didn’t take long to think of an answer—to weigh out your choices of wanting to go to bed at a somewhat reasonable time or stay an extra hour and hang out with your coworkers. 

“I’d actually really love that, thank you,” you accepted his invitation with a sweet smile, making Harry’s heart pound just a tad bit harder against his chest. 

“Great! Well, come on into the kitchen when you’re done. The chefs are cooking up some food,” he said before he walked away, leaving you to finish up your tasks for the night, which didn’t take you any more than ten minutes to finish up. 

You walked into the kitchen and Harry immediately handed you a plate that you gladly took. Jet excitedly waved to you to go over to the stove so he could serve you. 

“Allergic to anything?” He asked to make sure you weren’t going into the emergency room tonight. 

“Uh, shellfish when it’s consumed. I’m okay to be around it, though.”

“Oh shit, this would not be good for you.” His eyes widened as he immediately dropped the large silver serving spoon of the lobster risotto; it looked absolutely delicious. “Good thing I’m prepared. Do you like spaghetti and meatballs?” 

“Love.”

“Great!” He started plating your plate with the food before handing it back to you with an ‘enjoy!’ as you thanked him. 

Once everyone was satisfied, you all headed out to the dining table, settling on a large rectangle table comfortably. There were about twelve of you, and it seemed like everyone had assigned seats since they immediately went straight to their spot and placed their table or drink in front of it. 

You were a bit lost, not knowing where to sit, and the only person you’re reasonably close to was Harry, but it seemed like he was a bit preoccupied chatting with Quinn, another chef. 

“Y/N! Sit next to me, yeah?” Ivy, one of the waitresses called out for you. You smiled, thankful she was the one to ask you, and you gladly took a seat next to her. 

Harry took the seat in front of Ivy, diagonal from you, and he really wished he was the one sitting next to you. 

“Damn, I really should get a large circle table for all of us so we could see each other’s faces,” Irene suggested, and the group agreed, but everyone wondered where it would be placed since the restaurant had no space for another large table. 

Everyone broke out into their own conversations, chatting with one another freely and as loud as they wanted. 

“How was your first week here, Y/N?” Ivy asked. 

“It was great! I really love this place.” Harry looked at you as you talked with Ivy. He really could get lost just looking at your beauty, and sometimes, he would have to knock himself out of his glare to prevent him from getting caught. He was just so captivated by you, and it didn’t take a lot of effort for him to be so drawn to you. 

Ivy had definitely noticed Harry’s stare from the corner of her eye, and admittingly, she got jealous because she’s had a small crush on Harry ever since she started working at Spring four months ago. But it wasn’t like she was going to do anything about it because it seemed like he didn’t take interest in her, so she wasn’t going to force it. However, it didn’t slip past her that you occasionally glanced over at Harry as well—briefly averting your eyes towards him once he took a sip of his water or someone had pulled him out of his attention on you to make conversation. 

Gently pulling you by the arm, Ivy leaned over to whisper into your ear. “Harry’s totally crushing on you.” 

You pulled back, shocked. “What?” You mouthed. 

“He can’t stop looking at you—it’s so obvious.” You simply chuckled, shaking your head slightly as your cheeks felt warm, not from the alcohol or how close everyone was sitting, but because you couldn’t even believe that Harry would have a crush on you. Sure, you two had spent the entirety of your shifts together, but you didn’t think that he would have a crush on you. 

You tried not to think of Ivy’s words for the rest of the night, and you tried even harder to not look at Harry to catch it he was staring at you. Your thoughts seemed to make you more drunk when you were trying to sober up to drive back home. You only had three cocktails, which was quite mindless of you to be drinking when you had to drive home, but you simply wanted to have fun because you deserved it, and you were comfortable and making friends. And everyone seemed to be drinking as well as they were getting a ride from the more responsible ones who were driving and leaving their car in the parking garage during the night. 

Once everyone was all out of their social battery with their plates and glasses empty, you all started to clean up, helping one another to make the process of going home quicke; there were two people washing the dishes and two people drying as the rest put those dishes away and cleaned the table. 

Just like every single night, everyone said their goodbyes in the parking lot before going to their cars to head home for a good night's rest. 

You were sober, but you didn’t feel safe enough to drive, and you don’t know if that’s the alcohol or the thoughts of Harry making you dizzy. So, instead of walking to your car, you took out your phone and opened the Uber app, knowing you’d be able to get a ride home quickly since it was past midnight on a Friday night. 

“Hey, whatcha doing?” Harry asked, walking up to you once he noticed that you weren’t going to your car. He made it a habit to watch you get inside your car and leave the parking garage safely because anything could happen in the few minutes if he left before you. 

“I’m calling an Uber. I don’t wanna drive back…” you replied before looking down at your phone again.

“Oh, I could drive you home, if you’d like?” He offered politely. 

“Really? You don’t have to do that.”

“I insist. I would feel better knowing that I was the one that got you home safely.” The corners of your lips couldn’t help but turn up into a smile as your heart fluttered against your ribcage. 

“That’s really sweet, Harry, I’d like that,” you accepted. Harry grinned, leading you to his car as you followed; he walked over to the passenger seat, opening the door for you, which easily almost made your knees buckle in. How is he such a gentleman and so incredibly kind? You wondered, thinking about how rare it was to meet a man without anything leading to more than a conversation. 

You thanked him before getting into his car; his car was very clean and he had a Saturn air freshener that hung on his rearview mirror, admitting a fresh lemon scent throughout his vehicle. Harry got in, handing you his phone to play some music and to enter your address before starting the car and driving out of the parking garage. You played Daniel Caesar, which you thought was the perfect kind of music for a night drive since your place was fifteen minutes away from the restaurant. The two of you sang along to ‘Hold Me Down’ as he watched you from the corner of his eye, adorably swaying in your seat to the song as you muttered the lyrics. 

The sunroof cover was open, giving you an orange glow every time the car passed by a lamppost. Unconsciously, you both looked at one another every time the car stopped at a red light, both smiling at one another. You were thankful that it was dark out as it hid your big smile from how much you were giddy just looking at Harry. 

Once the navigation told him that your place was on the right, he parked against the curb in front of your apartment complex. You unbuckled your seatbelt before turning towards him in your seat as he turned towards you as well. 

“Thank you for the ride, Harry. It was really kind of you to offer.” 

“Not a problem. Don’t be hesitant to ask again. I rarely drink when we have our after-hours dinners, so you’re free to drink all you want and I’ll be glad to take you home,” he told you, and you smiled, nodding your head. 

“I’ll keep that in mind. It’s just been a while since I drank and hung out with friends,” you explained. 

“No worries. I’m glad you had fun, I assumed?” 

“Yeah, lots of fun! I really like it there, and you made it bearable and fun as well as my trainer,” you admitted. Harry felt his cheeks slightly redden, and just as you were thinking, he was grateful it was dark out. 

He cleared his throat. “Well, I’m glad. You’ll be on your own now. No need for me anymore since you’ve pretty much gotten everything done so quickly,” he chuckled, a dimple indenting his left cheek, making you hold in your breath. 

“Can I still ask you for help if I need you?” You asked innocently, leaning your elbow against the middle console as you rested your chin against your fist. Harry pursed in his lips as his mind focused on the last three words that slipped out of your mouth--I need you. It was merely an innocent question relating to work that he shouldn’t think too much about, but he couldn’t help it. 

“Of course. I’m always gonna be here if you need me,” he responded, keeping it friendly. At that, you smiled, nodding your head in acceptance. You gathered your belongings that rested at your feet before turning to face him again. Leaning forward, Harry thought you were leaning in to kiss him, which he wouldn’t mind whatsoever, but that dream was crushed when you wrapped your arm around his shoulder, giving him a hug. He hugged you back, placing his hand against your back and slightly rubbing his hand up and down, hoping you couldn’t feel his heart hammering against his chest at the feel of your upper body slightly pressed against him. 

You pulled away, giving him a shy smile. “I’ll see you on Sunday. Drive safe, okay?” 

“Always do. Sleep well.” He bid you goodbye as you got out of his car, walking over to the entrance of your apartment complex. You turned around before you opened the door, waving at him before heading inside. 

Harry drove off to his place, the opposite direction of your apartment, passing Spring. He could’ve honestly been home already in the comfort of his bed, but he didn’t mind taking you home at all. That only meant he got to spend a bit of more time together, but he noticed that with every passing second, minute, and hour, he felt himself falling for you just a bit more. 

You’ve been at Spring for almost a month, and you couldn’t believe how fast the days went by. The more you worked, the more you started to feel a place at home with the restaurant. It was welcoming and fun, and all the credit was due to the people that you surrounded yourself with. You felt a difference in your attitude, your mood, and you liked the change that it brought you--you felt happy. 

Being in San Francisco your entire life was great up until it wasn’t. It was a toxic place for you simply because of the people that you were surrounded with. You noticed that you were always on fight-or-flight mode, ready for someone to make one comment at you so you could snap at them. You hated being and thinking like that, so the best thing you did for yourself was to move away from the toxicity of your hometown, and you were glad that you did. 

It was another usual Friday evening, after hours at Spring as you sat in your usual seat next to Ivy as the two of you and Harry were laughing about a story Ivy was telling about her ex-boyfriend in college. 

Harry looked over at you, heart swooning as he watched you laugh, wiping your under eyes from the tears that had slipped out. It was a beautiful sight, he’d say; you had such a beautiful smile and contagious laugh that he loved hearing, whether it’d be from the kitchen as he was in the dining room or in the locker room—wherever it was, he always smiled to himself when he heard it. 

The two of you had gotten quite close, making the work environment bearable and fun. When you would be in the same area at the same time, you had this thing where you would bump his hip with yours lightly, and he would bump yours right back—of course, when there weren’t any food or drink handling. There would always be light conversations within those hip bumps, comfortably getting to know one another, whether it would be asking quick-fire questions or a random story about one another’s lives that would come to mind. It wasn’t an ordinary setting or time to get to know each other, but it made things fun because the two of you would come up with more questions to come up with the next time he bumped into you. It was nice having a thing with you, he thought. 

There would be moments during those little meetings when your fingers would brush delicately against his, sending shivers to his body. It was simply overwhelming in the best way possible. 

Everyone called it a night, doing the nightly routine of tidying and cleaning everything up. Despite the long shift and being on your feet, you still had quite a bit of energy that you would like to use up so you could get a night’s rest. You looked at your friends, seeing if anyone was up for a late night adventure just based off of their posture and how often they yawned, and it seemed like everyone was exhausted, for obvious reasons. But you’d ask one person before you decide to go alone. 

Once everything was clean and ready for the Saturday’s brunch, everyone walked out of the restaurant, walking over to their cars. 

“Hey, Harry?” You called out, making him instantly turn around at the sound of your voice. 

“Yeah, love?” The pet name had merely slipped out, and you felt your face getting warm, shyly smiling. 

“Uh, you could totally say no and I would completely understand why because it’s Friday night, and we had a long shift, and you must be tired-”

“Y/N?” You stopped talking, raising your brows. “Breath, yeah? Take your time,” he interrupted the rambling that you hadn’t known you were doing. 

Nodding, you took a deep breath. You didn’t know why you were nervous, but every time you were around Harry, he just made you feel a certain swarm of butterflies entering your stomach. 

“I’m not as tired as I thought, and I wanna end tonight with some sweets. So, would you like to come with me to get some dessert? Again, you could say no.” 

Harry smiled. “I’d love to,” he replied with no second thought. 

“Really?” 

“Yeah, of course. Plus, we could finally talk properly. Hate always walking away from our unfinished conversations.” He breathed out a chuckle, running his clad ring hand through his curls. 

“Great! Oh, uh, do you mind if we take your car? I took an Uber here, but I’ll compensate with buying you cookies and paying for your gas,” you suggested, keeping your excitement at bay. 

“No worries, c’mon. But I might take you up on the cookie offer.” He smiled, opening your door for you, which never failed to make you swoon. 

As he started the car, warming up the engine and turning the heater on, you two debated on where to go. You suggested going to Insomnia Cookies in Santa Monica, which was a twenty minute drive from Downtown LA, and it closed at two In the morning, but only if he was down to drive the opposite direction of where you two lived. And luckily, he didn’t mind the drive because he was always down for a late night drive and adventure, especially if it was with you. 

The car speakers played Frank Ocean, he merged on the 101, tapping his fingers along with the beat against the steering wheel. You subtly studied him as he drove, just as you did when you would glance at him across the restaurant. He always mindlessly curled his pink lips into his mouth, a habit that he, assumingly, had for years. You noticed how he would always play with his rings; his thumb would reach over to his other fingers to play with the heavy, metal rings; not helping that your mind would instantly go to what else his hands could do, especially to you, to your body, but you had to immediately snap yourself out of your thoughts to prevent them from going any further. Not to mention, the way his eyes always lit up; they had a natural gleam to them, making them incredibly irresistible to not look in his green eyes. 

He was captivating in all the right ways, and you felt yourself falling for him quite quickly, making that fear inside of you light up, inflaming your body with anxiousness. 

Your thoughts soon vanished when Harry pulled into a parking space in front of your destination, and he turned off the car. He turned to look at you, giving you a small smile before getting out. You decided to buy Harry anything he’d like, which he got the same six pack of cookies as you. 

Harry suggested eating in his car, which you agreed. Although the cold in SoCal wasn’t the same coldness as it was in NorCal, you didn’t want to stand around and freeze. The two of you make light conversation, talking about social media and enjoying the warmth of the fresh baked cookies. You then realized that you hadn’t followed him on Instagram, so you asked for his username, which was just his first and last name. 

“Your pictures are amazing,” you complimented.

“Stalking me already?” He teased. A smirk on his face present, making you roll your eyes as you didn’t know if you wanted to slap or kiss the smirk off—always wanting to go for the latter. “But thank you. I, uh, I actually took those myself.” Your eyes brightened. The photographs posted on his Instagram were mostly portraits of beautiful people, some of them were landscapes of a field or the mountains, but most of them were portraits. You knew very little about photography, thanks to the ‘Beginning of Photography 1’ class that you took in college, but you could see the depth of the picture and the way they’re taken; the emotion was clearly there, making you feel intensity through the picture. 

“Wow, you’re really talented, Harry.”

He blushed, looking down at his lap for a moment before looking back up at you again. “Thank you so much. I’m a freelance photographer.”

“Do you plan on leaving Spring to focus solely on photography?” You asked curiously. He softly smiled; he could hear the genuine tone in your voice, and he really appreciated that. 

“I’m not sure. I’ll have an appointment, maybe, three or four times a month? But the restaurant brings in more money, especially the tips,” he explained. 

You nodded. “Well, for what it’s worth, you’re extremely talented, and one day, you’ll be at the place you want to be. Everything will work out.” Harry smiled in appreciation of your words, not saying anything else. 

Taking another bite of his cookie, he changed the subject. “So, do you miss any of your friends in SF?” 

You raised your brows, not expecting that question, but you answered honestly. “To tell you the truth, I really don’t. A month before moving here,” you began to open up vulnerably; you hadn’t spoken to anyone about this. “I got out of a long relationship—quite toxic, honestly,” you said, looking at him. He had this look on his face that was so comforting, not a word coming out of his mouth, asking for details; it didn’t tell you that he was nosy or pressing you to tell him more. It simply told you that he was there to listen, whenever you were ready to tell him, and you really appreciated that. 

You hadn’t realized how hard it was talking about your past relationship because it had been all bottled up until now.  A deep breath came out of your mouth, and Harry immediately realized that it must’ve been a hard subject to speak about. Unexpected to you, he reached over to grab your hand, holding it gently as his thumb caressed your skin. He hoped he masked his nervousness well, making the smallest physical touch with you when, really, his pulse was hammering against his veins, heart pounding through his chest as his breathing began to feel erratic, but outside he remained cool, calm, and collected as if the touch didn’t drive him insane. 

You tried not letting Harry’s thumb, caressing the back of your hand, affect your ability to speak a coherent sentence, so you continued. “Uh, my ex was cheating on me with someone in our friend group. He told me not to worry about her, but you know how that goes when you hear that phrase. It was with a girl that I used to date—my first relationship, actually. The worst part of it was when I found out, I took him back when he promised he wouldn’t do it again and claimed that he loved me, and then I took him back again, and again and again.” 

Harry inhaled deeply, trying to not let the hand holding yours squeeze tightly so the blood circulation cuts off because he felt angry. He was so mad because how could anyone do that to you? Sweet, kind, and lovely you? 

“When I told him I couldn’t handle it anymore—all the lies, cheating, and betrayal—I broke up with him. Our friend group turned against me, completely ignored me. Now that I think about it, I noticed they started to be cold and rude towards me once they started sneaking around, and I have no clue why because I didn’t do anything to them. Guess they were just covering up for them because everyone knew except me, and I just felt so stupid because I was so clueless to think he ever loved me to forgive him so many times.” 

You started to sniffle as the bad memories that you lived through for the few months of the betrayal started to come up again. You were doing a good job not thinking about it when you started working at the restaurant, and you didn’t plan on telling Harry tonight, but you trusted him to let go of all the agony that you bottled up inside your mind. 

“Hey, come here,” he said, opening his arms up. You gladly rested your head against his shoulders, wishing the middle console wasn’t there so you could press your body against his. He hands rubbed your back just as it did when you first hugged him, and to say that you hadn’t been craving for his touch was a complete lie. “You’re not stupid whatsoever. I understand why you did what you did, but that doesn’t make you stupid. It makes them stupid for betraying your trust and forgiveness over and over again. You’re not in the wrong here nor was it your fault, love.” 

You nodded against his shoulder, and you felt him place the side of his face against the top of your head, cuddling up to you, which immediately put a smile on your face. Harry’s comfort had immediately made you feel better—it made you feel safe. You hadn’t felt so comfortable in someone else’s arms in a very long time, and considering that you’ve only known him for a month, you’d say it’s quite unbelievable how comfortable you are in his hold, especially opening up to him like you did. 

Pulling back from his hold, you looked up at him, giving him a smile. The weight on your shoulders suddenly felt lighter once you opened the bottle and poured out the contents in it. Talking to Harry was refreshing, a fresh breath of air, and you inhaled the crisp oxygen gratefully, knowing that being vulnerable and opening up had changed your friendship. 

It was Sunday evening, and you were cleaning up to prepare for closing. It had been a long day, even though you only worked for four hours; it just seemed that you were running around more than usual. 

But you were glad that the day was over, and you could take a long nice shower to end your night. Throughout cleaning, your coworkers had said goodbye, leaving through the back door, which you found odd because everyone usually heads out at the same time, but you didn’t think too much of it. 

Once you were done in the dining room, you looked around, finding the restaurant completely empty, but everything seemed to be in order, so you headed over to the locker room. 

When you rounded around the counter top and into the kitchen, Harry jumped up from his crouched position, startling you as you took a step back, gasping with your hand over your heart. 

“Holy shit, you scared me,” you said breathlessly. 

Harry chuckled, scratching the back of his neck. “I’m sorry, I thought you still knew I was here.” 

“I thought I was completely alone, and hiding behind the counter doesn’t help.” You and Harry laughed. You hadn’t noticed the two plates of food and wine glasses that were filled with sparkling soda sitting next to him on the stainless steel counter, and you wondered for a moment if that was for you and him. “What’s that for?” 

“For us, if you’d like. I made it quickly once everything was slow and we were starting to close,” he said shyly, rubbing his tattooed forearm. 

Your brows raised, eyes widening slightly. “You made this? For us?”

“Yeah. Today marks one month being here, so I decided to make dinner to celebrate.” You were quite speechless at the thought; it was so incredibly sweet and thoughtful that Harry went through that trouble of making a meal to celebrate a somewhat significant date. Tears started to well up in your eyes, making the man in front of you blurry. “Oh, wait, no. Please don’t cry. You could definitely take this to-go, if you want! I know you’re probably tired, but-”

Harry was cut off by your arms wrapping around his shoulders. He was taken back at first from the impact of your body crashing against his, but once he regained his balance, he immediately wrapped his arms around your waist, holding you tightly. 

Your scent was impeccable—quite alluring for running around for a few hours. He knew he smelled like food, the smoke from garlic and onions sautéing, and vegetables cooking. He buried his head into your shoulder, holding you close. This had been the first time you two were ever hugging outside of the comfort and safety of his car—no middle console to interfere, no awkwardness in trying to figure out how to give a proper hug in a confined space. He enjoyed it a lot—the way your body was pressed up against his. It made him happy, it made him feel safe. 

The intimate moment lasted for a few minutes, simply just hugging one another in relief in the kitchen, swaying slightly as complete silence surrounded the two of you. 

Once you were satisfied (although you think you would never be satisfied enough if you’re not in his arms), you pulled away, coming face-to-face with him. Your cheeks were slightly damped from the few tears that had fallen out, but weirdly, it gave you a natural and happy glow, and you were feeling exactly that. 

“Harry, thank you so much. This is the sweetest and most thoughtful thing someone has ever done for me.” You looked up at him through your wet lashes, warmly smiling at him. 

“You’re welcome. Shall we eat?” You nodded, and he unwrapped his arms from around your waist, letting you go, which he wished he hadn’t. He grabbed the two heavy plates that were filled with honey garlic chicken with sautéed spinach and mushroom on a bed of rice, and you grabbed the glasses, reaching over to place them onto the countertop before the two of you walked around to sit on the high stools. 

The two of you ate in comfortable silence, and you thanked and complimented him for the lovely meal. There was light conversation, asking questions about each other’s childhood. Listening to Harry talk about his life in England was so fascinating to you, and you wished that you had grown up with him because he seemed like such a fun and kind kid to play with. You learned that his sister and mom were back home in London, and they visited every six months, and he would occasionally go back home as well, if the bills weren’t stacking up and he was good with money. His words and mind seemed to get the best of him, slipping out about how much they would love you and that he’ll invite you to lunch whenever they visit to meet them; and he hoped he didn’t freak you out. You simply blushed, nodding your head, and not saying anything else. 

The more you talked to him, the more you found yourself staring at him as you listened to what he had to say. You’d come to terms a few weeks ago that you really liked his eyes—how green they were, and how they stare into you, giving you his full attention. You liked his hands, his hair, his nose, his cheeks, and most of all, you liked his lips. You couldn’t blame alcohol for these thoughts because Harry replaced wine with sparkling soda, so these were completely sober thoughts racing your mind. His lips were something you glanced at often, trying not to glare at them too much as he talked as you didn’t want to get caught for admiring them. They were so pink, and he occasionally bit them and curled them into his mouth, making them pinker. You liked when he would take his fingers and pinch his bottom lip, a habit that he seemed to form throughout his life. You suddenly wanted to kiss him—really, really bad. 

You shook off the thought immediately, being completely sidetracked with your infatuation with Harry. Was it an infatuation? No, you knew the feelings you felt for him felt much stronger than a simple admiration for your coworker. 

Once the talking had died down and the plates were empty, you and Harry decided to clean up. You quickly took both of your plates, beating Harry to the sink to wash the dishes. He chuckled as he watched you fast walk towards the sink; he soon followed with the glasses, placing them carefully into the sink. He decided to dry the dishes, finding the dish rag on your right side. So, he leaned over, placing his left hand on your waist, chest slightly pressed against your back as he grabbed the rag. You turned your head to the right, dropping your shoulder to turn more of your body towards him. He was close and it made you feel flushed; you felt your  cheeks heating up once he looked down at you, faces inches away from each other. 

You turned back around, quickly placing the last dish on the counter before you turned off the water. Harry was still close in proximity, not making any effort to move away from you. Turning around, your back was now pressed up against the edge of the sink. Harry rested his hands against the edge, trapping you with his arms. Your breath began to deepen, heart beating quite harshly against your chest as Harry looked into your eyes, briefly glancing at your lips, and slowly trailing them back up into your eyes. He brought one hand to graze the side of your face gently, skin prickling with goosebumps. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he complimented honestly. 

“Thank you, you are too.” 

“I mean it. You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever met. Listen, I-I really like you, and we haven’t known each other for long but I just…can’t get enough of you,” You smiled, averting your eyes to his lips before looking back up; your cheeks and neck felt incredibly warm from his confession. Bodily, you placed your hands on his waist, pulling him towards you to close the gap between you two; Harry smirked at your action, liking the way your bodies were pressed up against each other. 

“Are you gonna do anything about it?” You raised your brows curiously. 

“What would you like me to do?” His hands were rubbing up and down your back soothingly. 

“Hmm…a few things actually,” you muttered—more to yourself but Harry definitely heard from how close you two physically were. Your fingertips were mindlessly drawing circles on his lower back where his slightly wrinkled white shirt was tucked into his black jeans. 

“Care to share?” 

You took a deep breath, looking him in the eyes that captivated you quite clearly. “Want you to kiss me.” 

The corner of his lip turned up as he curled his lips into his mouth. “Can I please? Been wanting to for so long.” 

“Tell me.” Harry raised his brows. “Tell me how long you’ve been wanting to kiss me.” 

He curled his lips into his mouth, looking down at your soft lips before back up at your eyes. “Ever since I saw you for the first time. So, please let me kiss you. Do you want me to?” 

Harry quite literally took your breath away, breath stuck in your throat before you cleared it. Nodding your head quite eagerly, you softly said, “Yeah, want you to.” 

With that, he trailed his hands from your waist, up your spine, to your shoulders, and up to your face where he placed his hands on both sides, gently holding your face delicately as if it were a piece of art that was crafted for months, years; he didn’t want to drop or break the precious masterpiece that he cradled with his hands. 

His thumb caressed your soft cheek, giving your lips one last look before he leaned in and connected your lips with his. You sighed deeply once you felt his soft lips touch yours, and your shoulder visibly relaxed, letting go of everyone that may have held you back. 

You wrapped your arms tightly around his neck, pulling him in closer. A spark ran through your body as your lips molded together so perfectly in sync, making the firework inside of you pop into a beautiful and magical scene. 

Whimpering against his mouth, you suddenly wanted more of him; he was, in all ways, addicting. You unconsciously lifted your right leg, bringing it up to his hip, making Harry press himself against your core, holding your thigh. He started to feel himself harden inside of his pants from the way you’re kissing him, the way your hands gripped his hair, and the way your tongue effortlessly swiveled against his. 

You pulled away from his lips quite breathlessly, lips swollen. “Want you.” 

“Me too—want you so bad.” He leaned forward to kiss you again, and once he did, you pulled away, only leaving him with a small kiss to his lips. Harry pouted, making you chuckle. 

“That was the best kiss I’ve ever had,” you confessed. 

Harry smirked. “Well, I’ll be glad to do it again.” 

“Wanna get out of here? C-Can we go to yours?” You asked shyly. 

“Yeah?” You nodded. “You sure?” 

“Absolutely positive.” 

Harry gave you a smile and another kiss before he backed away, grabbing your hand to lead you to the locker room where the two of you grabbed your belongings from your lockers. Quickly after, you two were out the door of Spring; Harry locked up, and walked you two over to his car where he, yet again, opened the passenger door for you. 

The entire ten minute drive to his apartment, his hand never left yours. It delicately sat on your thigh with your hand on top of his, palm against the back of his hand as your fingers intertwined with his. Harry found it difficult to drive properly because all he ever wanted to do was either kiss you or look at you, and since it was just a bit after midnight, he hit all the green lights, so there was continuous driving and less kissing and looking. But that just made it quicker for him to get to his place. 

His apartment was on the second floor, which didn’t take long to get to, but catching up to Harry’s long strides as he practically dragged you up the stairs—no patience to wait for the elevator—was tiring you out. 

Once his front door closed, he immediately pushed you up against it, cradling your face in his hands as he kissed you feverishly. You practically could feel him smiling into the kiss, happy to have his lips on yours, and it completely tied your stomach into knots as the familiar flutter you felt in your chest made itself present. 

You’d come to realize, in the kitchen, that kissing Harry was everything you ever imagined. His soft lips molding and connecting with yours so perfectly made all of your dreams and realities come true. He just had a way with how he worked his lips as well as where to put his hands. But you were eager to find out what else he could do. 

Harry was the one to pull away first, which he even surprised himself with, but he led you to his bedroom, which you were too excited about. He closed his bedroom door, taking your lips in with his again, backing you up against his bed as he gently placed you on top of it, hovering over you. 

His lips trailed to your cheek, your jaw, and down to your neck where he lightly nibbled and sucked on your soft skin. You felt him lick your skin, soothing out the small love bite that he left on your skin before he pulled his head from your neck. 

“You sure you want to do this? I’d be happy just kissing you.” 

You smiled. “I’m sure, wanna touch you. You’re sure too?” You asked consent from him as well, making his cock twitch in his pants. 

“Very sure, love. You have no idea.” He sat on his knees as you laid below him, and he’s sure he’s never seen someone look so beautiful as you do; he was completely enthralled by your beauty. “Can I take this off?” He referred to your shirt, playing with the buttons on the front. You nodded, biting your lip. 

He leaned his weight on one side of you, placing one arm behind your head as you rested against it. He took your mouth in with his as his other hand began unbuttoning your white shirt, impressively with one hand. Once he got to the bottom, he sat up again, as did you to take off your shirt and your sports bra. You didn’t wear anything sexy to work because you wanted to be comfortable while waiting tables. 

Harry looked at your bare torso, licking his lips before he wrapped his lips around your nipple, sucking and licking the pebbled bud before switching to the other. His lips then placed small kisses down your body and to the hem of your pants, where he looked up to see you flushed from just his kisses. 

“Harry…” you whined. 

“What is it, beautiful?” He smirked. 

“Please, take it off.” 

“I’m getting there, love, don’t worry.” A breathy chuckle came out of his mouth before he unbuttoned your trousers. Your hips raised off the bed, and he swiftly took them off, leaving you in your nude seamless underwear. “Fuck, you’re so stunning, Y/N, I swear.” You looked at him and smiled; you were clearly at loss for words because of how Harry was looking at you. He wasn’t looking at you with complete admiration, like he was so lost in his daze of his sight. And that thought made you even more aroused. 

He gave you another kiss to your stomach before taking off your underwear, situating himself in between your legs, lying on his stomach. Harry looked up once more to find you staring at him, eager to watch what he’s about to do; he placed a kiss to your inner thighs, gently nibbling on your flesh, making you squirm. 

“Harry, please. Need to feel you,” you pleaded, brows crinkling. 

“Tell me what you need,” he teased, earning an impatient scoff from you, but Harry chuckled at your frustration. 

“Need your mouth on me. Please, want you to eat me out already.” 

Now, who was he to deny that request? So, that’s what he did—he slowly licked your clit multiple times before licking into your hole, collecting your arousal on his tongue. He used your wetness to lubricate your clit, completely assaulting your sensitive bud. Your back arched as the sensations ran through your body, hands gripping the sheets below you tightly that they practically wrinkled. Harry moaned against your clit, making you buck your hips into his face. 

“Fuck, Harry…” you dragged out, throwing your head back into the pillows. 

For a few minutes, Harry continued devouring your taste, not stopping until you came all over his mouth and you were completely shocked by his will to not stop until you’ve had your orgasm from his tongue. 

He replaced his tongue with his fingers, slowly entering your wet hole as he fingered you. You moaned louder; the tips of his fingers curling up to meet the softness of your upper walls. His unoccupied thumb rubbed your clit in slow circles, something that he noticed you really liked based on your hips thrusting upwards and your hand gripping his hair harder that it felt like you were going to rip out his locks. 

“So pretty, love. So wet for me.” The simplicity of his words had made you feel the familiar bubble in your lower stomach, and you wanted to release it so bad. 

“Harry, I’m gonna…cum,” you groaned out, biting your lips. 

He continued his pace on your clit, but added a tad bit more pressure, causing you to jolt a little. His fingers that were inside of you repeatedly brushed your g-spot, making you close your legs, but Harry pried them open, encouraging you to release. 

“C’mon, baby. Want you—need you to cum for me. Can you do that? Can you give me what I want?” 

“Mhm,” you nodded, mouth ajar as your voice was hitched in your throat. A few more thrust and rubs from his fingers, and you hit your high, releasing around his long fingers as he slowed his movements, riding out your orgasm while praising you for your peak. 

“That’s it. There you go.” One of his hands rubbed your stomach, calming you down while the other hand gently played and cupped your pussy as you unconsciously and slightly thrusted your hips into his hand. 

Once you had relaxed, you opened your eyes; Harry was kissing up your body before he kissed your lips so sweetly. 

“Hmm, you’re so good at that.” He smiled, kissing your neck as he started to rut his hips on your thigh. You felt his hard on through his pants, and you knew that wasn’t comfortable whatsoever. 

“Can I touch you?” You asked. He pulled his head from your neck, facing you as he was about to say it was completely fine if you didn’t, but you spoke up first. “That can’t be comfortable, and I wanna touch you—if you’d let me.” You were looking at him with innocent eyes, even though he knew what you were about to do was going against anything innocent. Plus, the way you were looking at him only made him more aroused.

“Course, let me just get out of these.” He got off the bed, but stayed closed; he was about to unbutton his shirt, but you stopped him quickly, replacing his hands with yours. Harry dropped his arms to his side once your lips were attached to his neck, giving him a small hickey on the underside of his jaw. The feel of just your lips on his skin made him bite his lips as a chill ran through him. You sat on your knees and started unbuttoning his white shirt, and with every button you undid, you gave him a kiss to every bit of his skin that was left exposed until you reached the hem of his pants. 

You looked up at him on all fours, and he watched you press another kiss to his tattooed torso. “Mind if I take these off?” You toyed with the hem of his pants. 

“No, please, don’t mind at all.” You smiled, looking back at his bulge, which outlined through the fabric of his pants. You palmed him, making him hiss through his teeth. He hadn’t felt another person’s touch in so long, so your lips and touch felt overwhelming in the best way. 

You unbuttoned his pants, which he was fast to get out of, leaving him in his black briefs. You positioned yourself to lay flat on your stomach, thankful that Harry’s bed was the perfect height to where you don’t have to strain your neck to suck on him. Kissing down his happy trail, you left a prominent love bite in between his tattooed leaves that were so perfectly inked on his lower abdomen. You then kissed his hard length through his briefs, making Harry breathe heavily. He’s never felt so teased in his life, but you were making it all worth it because nobody had ever made him feel so aroused. 

Finally, your fingers gripped the hem of his briefs and tugged them down so his cock could departure from the strained material. He was big, and you knew that from when he was driving to his place earlier as his cock was pushing against his pants, making you excited and eager. But seeing it right in front of you made you salivate. 

“Holy shit, you’re so big.” All he did was smirk at your words, knowing that fact quite clearly. You grabbed a hold of him as you held his dick upwards before you licked the underside from base to tip. Harry breathed in through his nose once he felt the smallest bit of contact from your mouth. 

Your mouth began to work on his tip, sucking and licking up the precum that had spilled out of his tip before you started to take more and more of him in your mouth. It was Harry’s turn to fill the room with his raspy and deep moan, and the noise he was making was triggering your arousal. Harry had a full view of your mouth on him as well as a great view of your entire backside, not missing the way he noticed how you started to subtly move your hips into the sheets. 

As you sucked on him, taking him further into your mouth, Harry dragged his fingers from your shoulders, down your spine, and to your ass that was out in the open with no shame whatsoever. His hands kneaded your flesh before slapping on cheek, which made you moan around him. 

“Like that?” He went back to his standing position, leaning back a tad bit to get a good look at you. “Tell me, do you like that?” You looked up at him, making direct eye contact with him as your cheeks hollowed and you sucked hard around him before letting out a ‘mhm.’ Your mouth was working wonders on him while your hand was fondling and playing with his balls, making him throw his head back and accidentally bucking his hips up into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat. “Fuck, sorry, baby.” He moved your hair to check up on you, but all you did was place your hands on his ass and pulled him towards you until your nose touched his pubic bone. Harry let out a throaty moan, and your hands pushed and pulled his lower body until he understood what you were doing. 

So, he took control, holding your head steady before he slowly started to thrust into your mouth; the tip of his cock brushed against the back of your throat. There was a string of spit that was dangling from your mouth and connecting to his balls—a sight so filthy but helped him get right on the edge. 

“I’m gonna cum. Love your mouth so much. So beautiful for me, so perfect.” Harry’s hips began to jerk sloppily, indicating that he was close. With just a few more thrusts into your perfect mouth, he spilled down your throat as he stopped thrusting, keeping you halfway on him. A series of curses and your name came from his lips as he shut his eyes. You took every drop that he offered, trying to swallow every bit of content as best as you could, but some of it had spilled out of your mouth due to how much he overfilled your mouth with his cum. 

Harry seemed to be in the middle of calming down from his intense orgasm, so you took the time to clean up. Pulling back, you wiped your mouth and licked your fingers as well as cleaning his cock with your mouth. What you didn’t notice was that Harry was watching you the entire time; he lowered his head, neck straining from looking up too much, and saw you eagerly cleaning and licking every last drop that had fallen from your pretty lips. The sight was enough to make him hard again if he wasn’t too spent. 

He collapsed on his bed next to you, his head was next to your ass, to which he pressed a small kiss to your hip in gratitude. You moved to lay your head on his stomach, looking at him and giving him a small smile. 

“Come here. What are you looking at me like that for?” He reached out for you, and you moved again, resting your elbow next to his head before giving him a kiss. The kiss didn’t deepen any further, just molding your lips with one another as he tasted himself on your tongue. 

“Nothing. You seemed to have enjoyed yourself.” 

“Very much did, thank you. Did you? You could be honest with me.” 

You giggled. “Honestly…I had a really great time. You made me feel really good. The best I’ve felt in a really long time,” you told him honestly, and Harry smiled at that. 

“Do you want to stay the night? I’m always in a cuddly mood after anything sexual—well, I’m always in a cuddly mood, period.” You laughed, nodding your head before kissing his cheek. 

“I’d love to. Can I use your restroom, and do you have a spare toothbrush?” 

Harry nodded, getting off the bed before leading you to his bathroom where he gave you a toothbrush and some of his face wash. He left you to do your business and told you that he would have a change of clothes. 

Once you were done, you walked out of his bathroom, still naked, and was met with Harry in a pair of gray briefs and a change of his clothes in his hands, handing them to you. He gave you a kiss to your forehead before going off to the bathroom and leaving you to change. 

You replayed the evening in your mind over and over again as you changed—you really enjoyed his company and him as a person. Harry was a more than nice guy, who seemed to like you for whatever reason, and you liked him too. Maybe a bit too much, and you felt like you liked him more than you projected—dare, you say that you were falling in love. But you couldn’t let yourself feel that way; you were beating yourself up for it. In all honesty, you were scared, so you had a habit of not portraying the entirety of your feelings out on the table so people could perceive it. 

Your mind was racing with so many thoughts in your head, repeating and spitting out every insecurity that your previous ‘friends’ had told you in the past—calling you a slut and how you couldn’t keep anyone around because they both ended up cheating on you. Your head was telling you Harry would do the same, and as hard as you were trying to deny that because Harry was the kindest person you’ve ever met, it was all you could hear. You couldn’t do this, no, you couldn’t feel like this, you thought. You felt like you needed to protect yourself before you were in too deep. 

Without even knowing, you were frantically grabbing your clothes and shoes that were all thrown across Harry’s floor. Your heart was racing, mind telling you to ‘leave’ and that ‘nobody is going to love you,’ so that’s what you were doing, leaving. 

You made it out of his bedroom, so close to the front door until you realized you had forgotten your purse. Turning around to go back, you were met with Harry leaning against the frame of the hallway entry, holding your purse in his hands. 

“Not planning on saying goodbye?” His voice sounded defeated, the complete opposite as to what it was prior. He looked down at his feet, not even able to make eye contact with you when he was always keen on making direct eye contact when talking to someone, but seeing you walk out his bedroom door when you were supposed to be waiting for him in his bed to cuddle was heartbreaking. 

“Harry…”

“That’s all it was to you, I’m guessing? You know you could’ve said no to staying the night, I would’ve understood. But to say yes after we’ve been intimate, and getting my hopes up? I-I thought you liked me, that’s all, and I’m stupid for falling for it,” he ended with a scoff. He felt extremely vulnerable; he laid his feelings out on the table, let you see his body, and it seemed like you just picked and chose your cards straight from the deck to only have Harry fold. 

“No, that’s not it-”

“Then please tell me what it is before I drive myself into the wall thinking what I’ve done wrong!” He raised his voice—not too loud where it startled you, but enough to where he simply let out his frustrations. 

“I like you, Harry, I do. But we can’t be together.” You didn’t know how to put it into words, so that was the best you could come up with. 

“And why’s that?” He furrowed his brows, walking towards you, but keeping a safe distance. “Give me a good reason why, and I’ll let you go—I’ll leave you alone. We’ll simply be coworkers who don’t talk to each other. I’ll-”

“I’m scared, okay! I’m scared because I cannot fall in love with you, even though I’m already in too deep. I’ve done it once and i-it hurt me.” You were on the verge of bawling, maintaining your emotions. “I-I cannot feel this way so soon—fresh out of a relationship…I’ve only known you for, what? A month? We barely even know each other, Harry-”

“See, now, that’s where you’re wrong. You think I don’t know you, but I bet that you know I know you quite well. Probably more than all of your bitchy friends back home who you’ve known for years.” You stayed silent, not knowing how to respond, but he was right, he did know you better than anyone you knew back in SF. “If I didn’t know you then I wouldn’t know that your favorite thing to eat while you were growing up was chocolate croissants. Your favorite color often switches every few days, but some of them are, and specifically: maroon, evergreen, mustard yellow, burnt orange, and beige. You love watching kids cooking competitions in your free time and often root for the one who is doing miserably and knows who won’t make it to the next round. You’re learning how to bake, which is what you said that you’ve always wanted to learn out to make proper pastries, and based on what you bring to work for us to try, you’re on the right path to being a baker.” 

“I’m…” you were at a loss for words, tears lining your eyes. All of the questions and playful conversation you and Harry had during work had come around in his words; it showed that Harry really listened, and when he did, he didn’t forget every detail you’ve told him. Your heart felt like it was in your stomach, making your stomach flutter in giddiness and shock. 

“I could go on, honestly, but it would be an entire list of things that I’ve remembered about you.” Harry softly smiled down at his feet. “All I’m saying is this: I like to think I know the basics of you, and I still have a lot to learn about you. But don’t run away from me, please. If you want to and you don’t want anything to do with me, that’s fine, but I can’t let you walk out without trying not to stop you.” He sighed, completely putting himself out there as he was practically begging you to stay. “I really like you, Y/N, I mean it. I don’t care if we’ve only known each other for a month. I don’t care that you just got out of a relationship. I mean if you’re still in love with him or have a bit of interest in him still, then that’s different-”

“I don’t,” you interrupted, shaking your head no. It was the truth; you hadn’t felt love for your ex in a really long time, and you simply stayed with him and kept forgiving him just because it was comfortable. 

“Okay…” 

“It’s just…I don’t want people to think I’m some kind of person who moves on from relationships so quickly. I-I mean, I didn’t come here just to find myself in another relationship, y’know?” Your tone was concerning, like all of your worries were piling up into one big stack that made your head hurt from thinking too much. 

“No one’s gonna think that—I don’t think that. Besides, it isn’t any of their business.” Harry walked even closer to you, inches away as his hands grazed your upper arms. “Let me ask you something, does this feel right? Being with me?” You nodded with no hesitation. “Say it,” he instructed, wanting to hear the words come out of your mouth. 

“This feels right.” 

Harry smiled at you comfortingly. “Okay, then let it be right.” 

“I’m scared,” you admitted, looking down. He lifted your chin up with the soft touch of his fingertips, goosebumps littered your skin with just his simple touch. 

“Me too, but I’m doing surprisingly well at hiding it. We’ll go slow, okay? No pressure into labeling; let’s just go with the flow, alright?” He suggested, and you softly muttered an ‘okay,’ reaching up to wrap your arms around his shoulders, giving him a warm and grateful hug. 

“I’m so sorry-” you said into his shoulder, but he quickly cut you off. 

“No need to be sorry, I understand.” His understanding makes you even more soft as you hugged him tighter; a few tears slipped your eyes, streaming down Harry’s shoulder. 

After a moment, the two of you pulled away, feeling so much relief from the hug and conversation. 

“Is your offer on staying the night still up?” You asked hesitantly.

He smiled. “Yeah, it always is. C’mon.” He took you by the hand, leading you to his room and into his bed—not for the actions of pleasure, but for a nice and comforting cuddle. 

You situated yourself on his chest, comfortably trailing your fingers up and down his skin as his arm was wrapped around your shoulder. 

Lifting your head up to meet his face, he smiled at you before you gave him a sweet kiss to his lips. It didn’t lead to anything, it didn’t even deepen; just the feel of his soft, pink lips on yours was enough to make you feel bliss. 

You pulled away. “Slow?” Harry chuckled, nodding his head. 

“Slow.” 

Your face warmed up as you smiled, cheeks aching; you positioned yourself back onto his chest for the night, taking up all of his space on the bed when your side was completely empty as you held him close. Even though you’ve only known him for a month, you felt yourself falling; because ultimately, it felt right. 

please come into my inbox and tell me your thoughts, feelings, and favorite moments! thank you for reading <3

[cantaloupe-draws]

El Chico del Apartamento 512

Irl! Quackity x Female! reader

Summary: Nothing interesting ever happens in the apartment complex you live in. It’s the same old routine for you. Constantly turning down your neighbor and heading too and from your apartment. Well that’s up until you meet the very cute boy that lives in apartment 512 that you can never seem to gather the courage to talk too. To make make matters worse, he shows up to the cafe you work at

Switches from Reader’s s POV to Quackity’s POV at the very end

Genre: Song fic, fluff, somewhat cafe trope, strangers to lovers, crushes

Warnings: use of Quackity’s real name, creepy neighbor, cursing, and I think that’s about it

Song :El Chico del Apartamento 512 by Selena

Lyrics are in bold

—

Every day is the same down the corridor

Every day it’s the same old thing. I pass the same old doors as I make my way towards my own at the end of the corridor. Counting the room numbers as I pass.

“508, 509, 510,-“ I count and but as soon as I reach room 511 the door suddenly swings forward and I’m greeted by both a whistle and Chad, my neighbor.

“Y/n baby I keep on waiting for you to go on a date with me like you promised,” Chad said as he stood in front of his door frame, right arm resting on the door. “I need to show you around town,” he said with a smirk as he rested his face on his fist.

I scoffed as I moved away from him, “The only thing you need right now is an urgent shower. You stink like a pig and it’s absolutely disgusting. Besides, I never promised you anything” I said, trying to continue on my way, but Chad just kept getting more and more persistent with every rejection. His nagging was getting annoying.

“Come Y/n I’ll take you to this bar across town, I’ll even pay for your drinks” he kept persisting.

You would think that any decent guy that’s asking you out on a date would obviously pay for them himself. It’s a given but this is Chad we’re talking about. I was sick of his terrible date ideas and I had to face him once again.

“Listen, I don’t know how many times I’ve told you this and how many times I’ll have to repeat it but, I don’t want to go on these stupids dates with you,” I told him as I rejected for what seemed to be the millionth time. And as soon as I said that the door beside us swung open.

Out came a young man wearing a navy blue cap that was covering almost the entirety of his hair but still managed to expose small tufts of dark brown hair from the sides. He looked up at the predicament Chad and I were both in and I was able to get a good look at him.

He had almond-shaped eyes that were a dark brown color and had various beauty marks scattered around his face. He was attractive. Very VERY attractive. Oh no I’m in deep shit, I thought to myself as I quickly turned away when I felt that I was staring at him for too long. He turns away from us and heads towards the elevator doors.

I stayed stunned for a few moments then turned to face Chad again, completely red in the face, dumbfounded, and at a complete loss for words. But before Chad could get another word out I quickly rushed to my apartment and leaned my back against the door once I got inside. My heart is beating fast and my chest feels tight and constricted. I quickly got myself a glass of water from my faucet and though it helped with my fast heart rate, it didn’t help the butterflies swarming around in my stomach. It might sound crazy but I think I’ve just met the man of my dreams.

Ever since then, I’ve made sure to take my sweet time walking down the corridor in hopes to see the cute boy from apartment 512 again. I’ve gone as far as to purposely make small talk and fake my interest in Chad in hopes to see him once more.

—

The boy from apartment 512 the one who makes my poor heart beat fast.

I walked into the elevator quickly pressing the button towards the first floor when I heard someone yell “HOLD THE DOOR PLEASE!”

Loud footsteps came barreling towards the elevator. The yell of itself was enough to get my blood pumping but, to make matters much worse it was the cute boy from apartment 512 who was coming towards me.

“Thank you so much,” he said out of breath once he got inside. He offered me a smile of gratitude as the elevator doors closed. I noticed that he wasn’t wearing a cap this time but, instead he was sporting a grey beanie with red and blue stripes.

‘He’s the most beautiful man I have ever seen in my entire life’ I internally screamed to myself.

“Yeah, no problem” I responded quietly in hopes I wouldn’t make a fool of myself.

Even if there weren't more than two pieces of dialogue uttered between us, it was enough for my heart to beat faster than the speed of light.

—

The boy from apartment 512 who causes me to stutter like I've never done before.

I was manning the cashier station at the cafe I worked at. It was filled to the brim with people who were either typing away on their laptops or having a conversation with their friends.

But on this day, I had finally learned his name.

The busy atmosphere had me tackling customers' orders from left to right, “Hello, may I take your order?” I said as the next customer approached me.

But surprisingly enough, I was greeted by a familiar face.

The cute boy from apartment 512.

“Yes, hello I would like a caramel macchiato please,” he said and I felt my face go red instantly.

Oh my god, it’s him again, I thought as I knew that my brain would start to scramble once more. “O-of course. Coming right up, n-name?” I asked him as I completely stumbled on my words.

“Alex,” he said, “Okay A-Alex your name will be called out when your order is ready,” I tell him as I continue on with my work.

My coworkers had never seen me lose composure like that. It was clear that they would never let me live this down but even if I made a complete fool of myself in front of him, a huge part of me also just wants to keep talking to him both night and day.

—

But today I have finally truly decided to confess my love to him

I mentally prepared myself for the next time I interacted with Alex. I’ve finally decided that the next time I would run into him, I would finally ask to get to know him better in hopes that one day friendship will blossom into a wonderful relationship. A giddy laugh escaped me as I thought of the idea.

The cafe was busy as usual, with the same groups of people coming in. As it hit peak rush hour the line of customers just kept getting longer and longer and I was attempting to quickly attend to them to the best of my ability. Somehow, this was not enough to deter the feelings of butterflies in my stomach.

I knock on his door and I get goosebumps,

a blonde answers the door and my heart breaks

As I heard the bell above our door ring once more I raised my head and saw him, Alex. He was holding the door open for a woman as she walked in. They stood close together as they waited in line. This might seem like a bit of an exaggeration but when I saw them conversing together waiting in line the butterflies that were once fluttering disappeared and were replaced with dread. As my heart dropped, I realized that one thing was wanting to be friends with him but, that doesn’t change the fact that I had grown feelings for him. If he’s in a relationship then, what now? I felt lost as to how to handle this.

As the line in front of me kept getting shorter and shorter, I was becoming anxious as his turn was approaching. Though as it was almost the pair’s turn to order, Alex suddenly turns around and leaves the line and when his turn arrives he still wasn’t there. Despite this, I still went ahead and tended his apparent girlfriend.

I truly felt my heart breaking into pieces when suddenly she asked:

"Were you looking for my brother?"

“Hello, may I take your order?” I asked her, “Yes, can I have a vanilla latte please? But um, can we wait a couple of minutes for my brother? He went to the restroom and didn’t tell me his order,” she asked. Then the realization hit me like a ton of bricks, this was his sister. I’m so dumb, how could I’ve not realized the resemblance between them?? “Yeah that’s no problem” I finally responded.

Soon enough Alex came rushing towards his sister, “I’m so sorry for the wait” he said once he reached the both of us. “Just hurry it up. I’ll be waiting for you at the table” His sister said as she turned her back to the both of us.

Turning my attention to him as I rang up his order he then speaks up “You’re one of my neighbors aren’t you?” He asks me with a grin. I stop in my tracks as if I’m a deer in headlights.

“Yeah I am actually” I smile at him trying to muster enough courage to continue our conversation.

“I thought so, you were the one who held the elevator door for me the other day right? Also, the one who was yelling at my neighbor.”

My face instantly goes red as I thought back to the first time I met Alex. “In my defense he deserved it. He’s been harassing me ever since I’ve moved in” I shudder at the thought of Chad.

“Yeah I’ve realized that he really is a douche, he enjoys banging on the damn walls at three in the morning” he said as we laugh together at the stupid things Chad has done.

“Okay, okay you’re order will be out shortly,” I tell him with a smile, feeling my heart skip a beat. But Alex doesn’t move from the line.

“To be honest the whole reason I even came here wasn’t really for a drink or anything.” He said gazing towards the floor and rubbed the back of his neck.

“This might be a bit sudden because we’ve barely met but I wanted to actually ask you for your number since you seem really nice and you’re very pretty. If you’re not interested then that’s fine, I’ll just take my drink and go” Alex said sheepishly.

After I heard these words I found myself dumbfounded. At a complete loss for words. ‘DID HE JUST SAY THAT??? HOW DO I RESPOND???’ and from there my mind was absolutely speeding to the point where I just stood there. ‘HURRY UP AND DO SOMETHING!!!’ I yelled at myself, but yet still nothing managed to escape. Alex began to fidget more and more playing with his hands as I just stood there without a response.

“It’s okay, I’ll just go now.” Alex quickly said leaving.

—

Alex’s POV

‘SHIT. FUCK. MOTHERFUCKER. STUPID IDIOT.’

I cursed at myself while I walked towards my sister. Laying my head on the table, covering it in utter embarrassment.

“That didn’t go well, did it?” My sister said while casually scrolling through her phone. “And here you were boasting about how much of a smooth talker you were. You sir, just got rejected.”

“Will you shut up?” I groaned at her not raising my head. I’m already embarrassed out of my mind and she is not making it any better.

“Fine fine, you big baby I’ll go get our drinks and then you can go home and cry.” She said standing up as our orders were called.

��God, why did I think it was a good idea to bring my sister along? How had it not crossed my mind? I hadn’t even given it a second thought as to what I was gonna do if I did get rejected. And to make matters much worse I just got rejected in front of my sister. I will never hear the end of it at family reunions. I’m already mentally digging my grave when I heard my sister come back.

“I think this one is yours” She said as she placed my drink in front of me. I raise my head slightly so I would be able to see what was in front of me. I looked at my cup as it said:

‘To the cute boy from apartment 512’

‘xxx-xxx-xxxx -Y/n’

—

A/N- So this is the first time I’ve ever wrote fan fiction before, I mainly stick to drawing so please excuse any mistakes I tried my best. But I hope you liked it over all. Also the lyrics in English don’t make as much sense as they do in Spanish, and it’s was bugging me so if they seem a bit odd you know why.

A special thanks to @tofuyami she really helped me with the brainstorming and editing process <3

@hungoverhellhound @cherrysirin @tofuyami @nealocus @struggling-with-time @bugsinmycoldsoup @venusacrossthestars @galaxygnf

Also stand Selena always -🍈

[rebelspykatie]

I’m well aware of the fact that, as a queer person, I consume media differently than the average viewer. Sometimes I think y’all get too caught up in the details of like how a light shines on something or how a shirt pocket is crinkled (I love you all, but please go drink some water and close your computer every now and then). So I like to check myself by asking my family and coworkers, especially the hetero ones, their opinions or takeaways from different shows.

I did this with Stranger Things and I’m here to reassure you guys that the general audience, the ones that don’t care anything about ships or the silly little romances on the show, finds Mike’s speech to El off. They can see that Mike is acting weird this season.

My coworker, unprompted from me, said something along the lines of Mike’s problem and why he couldn’t say I love you has to be more than him thinking he’s just a nerd and El doesn’t need him. She pointed out how attentive Mike was to Will’s feelings in seasons one and two, and how this season it’s like he’s just checked out and oblivious. She saw the inconsistencies in Mike’s confession and how it directly contradicted the way he acted in season one.

Now, like I said, this was all unprompted by me and she doesn’t know I ship byler. She doesn’t even know I’m queer. I just asked about where she thought the characters were going and she said well obviously they have to work to resolve whatever is going on with Will and Mike. She said it seemed like El was uninterested in Mike at the end, with bigger problems to face. She had a hard time accepting that Will is gay and in love with Mike while watching vol 1, but came back swinging in vol 2 completely on board. I literally had to talk her through it when she made comments like “well we already have Robin, they wouldn’t make another character gay” and “he’s so young how does he know all that yet.” And before you ask yes, she’s a cis het white boomer.

So, if even she can see something is going on, none of you are delusional. She agreed that Will deserves a win and that they have made it tough not to be sympathetic towards his character because they’ve just shown him struggling and suffering for four seasons, with very little reward. The GA is on board for this story because that’s how the Duffers have written it. They want you to see Will’s side of things and bring it to the forefront as he takes on a key role in season five. She is not the only person that’s said this to me. My mom, another cis het white boomer, has voiced the same thoughts.

The GA is going to be dissatisfied if they don’t resolve the issues with Mike, Will and Eleven. They made it the entire plot for their storylines, particularly Will and Mike, so it’s not going to go unresolved. I think I’ve honestly heard more feedback about Mike acting weird than about Will being gay, which is quite frankly surprising. But I just wanted to provide some reassurance that the GA does see it. You’re not crazy. Whether that ends up with Mike being in love with Will, too, remains to be seen. That’s in the Duffers hands, but just going by what we have seen on screen, their story is unresolved.

[fruchtfleisch-art]

kirashino and kosakira! perhaps even... kosakirashino...

Kirashino: 

Hey, that’s a bingo! Nice!

Ah, what to say... I mentioned before how I love relationships where characters are forced to find common ground, and this is that in spades. When else would a serial killer and a housewife bond except this extremely specific situation where he has to lay low and pretend he can be normal around women? Kira really looks at the first person allowed to hug him and goes “oh no :(”.  

It’s something I touch on a little in the story I’m almost done writing, though Kira lacks the self-awareness to realize that he wouldn’t give Shinobu the time of day if he was still living his regular lifestyle:  

However, I also marked this pairing as “conflicting feelings” because the whole dynamic is built on deception. Stories where Kira decides to spend the rest of his life as Kosaku creep me out, because Shinobu never gets a say in that! Even if she didn’t like her husband, I think any person would have a strong reaction if they knew their spouse had been killed and replaced. It’s probably for the best Kira was ambulance’d, before he had the chance to get (more) creepy and possessive. 

In the short term, though, and within the canon of DiU, this pairing is fascinating. It’s like watching a “cute” video of a predator “playing” with a prey animal. You know it’s not going to end well! It’s stressful for both parties involved! But maybe... maybe a mouse and a snake can be friends...       

Kosakira:

I... I have a confession to make... I am a Kosaku enjoyer. Yes, he doesn’t get a single line of dialogue, yes, his only narrative purpose is to die and be replaced by Kira, yes, we know almost nothing about him, but what we do know paints such a picture! He can’t shave with a razor. He doesn’t get angry when his wife is mean to him. He has bowling pin nail clippers! 

He looks like this in my brain: 

Add in his (possible) passive-aggressive traits and there’s just enough here to intrigue me, haha. I’d be tempted to call him a Poor Little Meow Meow if he wasn’t such a neglectful husband/father. 

Anyways. Pairing up a meek person like Kosaku with Kira is just a disaster waiting to happen, IMO... Kira already has a huge ego and a proclivity to bully people when he can get away with it, so adding a sad little man into the mix would probably make that proclivity worse. It’s certainly interesting, though!   

I have a text file on my phone where I peck away at a little story about them when my day gets too stressful. It starts with Kosaku asking his new coworker about a computer problem and escalates very quickly to stuff like this:

Jeez, that’s a lot of words for a pairing with only one real character involved! Have a poor little dummy trying to be helpful (not pictured: Kira holding down the power button on his monitor every time his PC reboots). 

Kosakirashino:

THIS ONE... this one makes my brain melt. 

I love the idea of the Kawajiris fixing their marriage by bringing in a serial killer as their third. This is our boyfriend, he can cook and he can drive and sometimes he brings corpse parts to our house, we love him dearly <3

This is (surprise) yet another scenario I can’t see ending well, because Kira is too himself. He says he wants a quiet domestic life, but he gets stressed out when he can’t be a homicidal creep! He’s not a big spoon, he’s a knife! 

The Kawajiris, meanwhile, are just happy somebody can be available to pick Hayato up from soccer practice. Together, they are... still a deeply dysfunctional household, lmao.

[let-them-read-fics]

Conflicted Connections

Requested By @rc11: “Reader is drunk and calls Rosé to pick her up since she’s worried. And on the way home, the reader confesses but since she knows Rosé is out of her league she gets all sad. All fluff throughout the way, and the next day she avoids Rosé since she recalls herself confessing and is to embarrassed to face her. Gets a lil bit angst but then they somehow make up at the end.”

Pairing: Rosé x Fem!Reader

Word Count: ~ 6,505

Warnings / Misc. – Mentions Of Alcohol & Partying, Angst, Fluff

Disclaimer: This writing is a work of fiction, and no disrespect is meant for those mentioned herein. 

A/N: Thank you for the request! I had fun writing this one, and I really hope you enjoy it. I stuck with the gist, but I added quite a bit :) AND WHO ELSE IS HYPED FOR THE SHOW??? 🥳 I can’t wait to see our girls own that stage 😌

PS ~~ The song used is called "Baby, I Love You" by Tiffany Alvord, and it was specially requested.

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

With yet another steaming cup of tea in hand, Rosé makes her way back to her room, settling onto the soft cushions of the bed. Her notebook lays open in front of her, lyrics and annotations beautifully etched into the paper. 

She pulls her guitar back into her lap now, allowing her fingers to glide along the strings as she strums out whatever comes to mind. Nothing makes her feel as relaxed as this; she's free to sing whatever she feels -- to play whatever feels right. If only for a little while, she can connect back to her roots and remember how she felt as a little girl; when her heart and mind were unburdened by fear of judgement.

Life isn't always easy, but she takes comfort in the fact that her love of music will always remain childlike, in the sense that there's always something new to discover or tell the world. It goes without saying that being a songwriter is much easier when you're inspired, and Rosé can attest to that. A certain someone has become her muse over the course of the past few months, and her mind is constantly filled with ideas for new material. 

As another line pops into her head, she takes the page between her fingers to flip to a clean sheet. A few seconds later, thinking she found one, she begins writing. Soon, though, she discovers that this wasn't an empty page: in the upper right hand corner, a small heart is drawn, encompassing the words "Hi Rosie" and a small smiley face. Your initials are printed next to the doodle, and the sight brings a soft smile to her face. You must've sneakily drawn that when she wasn't looking one day. 

Her fingers run along the markings, tracing over the lines as your face flashes in her mind for the millionth time today. The universe must've been listening, because no more than 5 minutes later, her phone starts ringing. She reaches backwards towards the bedside table, and her fingers soon make contact with the device. 

"Hey, I was just thinking about you--" She starts, before being interrupted. 

"BABY YOU LIGHT UP MY WORLD LIKE NOBODY ELSE--" Your voice booms through the phone as you sing loudly, nearly making Rosé go deaf in the process. She blinks a few times to refocus her thoughts before chuckling lightly.

"Y/N?"

"Rosie I'm at this really fun party, you should come hang out!" Your words come out slightly slurred, but excited nonetheless. It's a bit hard for her to hear you now over the music blasting in the background. 

"Ah, I don't know…" She trails off, voice unsure. She'd much rather spend the evening writing about you than at some random party. 

"Pleaaseee?" You drag out, making sure to whine for even more emphasis. "I miss you." 

Rosé's heart skips a beat at that last part, now thudding obnoxiously loud in her chest. She misses you too, probably more than a 'friend' should, but she can't help it -- you're simply too amazing.

She takes a breath, knowing that she'll likely regret her next decision -- after all, hiding her feelings becomes harder every time she's around you. Regardless, she can't find it in herself to say no to you. "Alright, fine. Where are you again?"

You let out a loud cheer upon hearing her cave in, and she just knows you look like a dork, likely having that stupid little smirk on your lips that she loves so much. 

After getting the address from you, she goes into her closet to find a good outfit. For anyone else, she might've just shown up in whatever was comfortable; but knowing that you're there is enough motivation for her to put a bit more effort into it. 

Her signature style shines through: she dons a black crop top and jeans, paired with a long, hickory colored trench coat. She finishes the look off with her white sneakers, giving the outfit that final umph that it needed.

With one last look in the mirror, she adjusts her clothes and hair again before heading out.

-----

The moment that Rosé steps foot inside the house, her eyes widen. She's been to plenty of parties before, but never one as chaotic as this. A large crowd is gathered in the living room, making the area that was likely once spacious now appear cramped and tiny. Some people move with the rhythm, while others dance wildly to the beat of their own drum. The music was audible from outside, but inside is a whole nother story: it's nearly deafening now. 

In front of her, just past the living room, two guys are fist fighting. To her left, a long hallway is filled with couples making out, likely on their way to the bedrooms. She grimaces before pushing her way past everyone and walking towards the kitchen.

The bright strobe lights from the living room still manage to reach the area, but things are definitely a little calmer here. That's not to say that it's quiet, though: people are gathered around the counters, downing shots and cheering each other on at the same time. Some stumble around, nearly falling over as their friends laugh hysterically and help keep them vertical.

In the adjacent room, two teams of partygoers are busy playing beer pong. It seems to be boys vs girls, and Rose smirks when she discovers the latter are in the lead. 

She scans the rooms one more time, but you're still nowhere to be found. A pang of worry settles in her chest, but it only makes her more determined to find you.

And, 10 minutes later, she does. You're outside in the backyard, sitting near the fire pit with a bottle of wine in your hand. The flames are dying down now, long ago forgotten about -- the stars shining in the midnight sky had captivated you, stealing your attention away from keeping the fire fed. 

Before she begins her journey over to you, she takes a moment to appreciate how beautiful you look. The remaining embers flicker lazily, creating a deep haze that casts onto your body. The shadows contrast with the light, making your features pop in all the right ways. The sound of someone shouting again brings her out of her daze, and Rose makes her way to you.

At first, you don't notice her. Your eyes are wide, filled with wonder as you gaze up at the sky in awe. Space has always baffled you, and Rose thinks you look adorable when you get like this. 

"Y/N," she says gently, standing beside your chair. After pulling your eyes away from the sky, you meet her gaze. A light blush rises to your cheeks at the way she's looking at you. 

"Hi Rosie," you slur. The words come out cutely, but she can tell that you're much drunker than you had been when you called earlier. 

"How much have you had?"

You scrunch your face up in thought as the last two functioning brain cells in your head go to work. She can practically see the wheels turning, and she can't help but laugh at the look of effort on your face. 

"...a lot." You ultimately conclude, taking far too long to come up with such a simple answer. "Alex gave me a couple of his special mixes earlier, I had some shots, and now--" you declare, holding the wine bottle up triumphantly, "--this!"

As soon as she heard his name leave your lips, she frowned. Alex is one of your coworkers and friends, and he's totally in love with you. You're oblivious to it, but Rose isn't and she can't stand him. On top of the fact that he's a guy, he has the audacity to like you? Well, she can't exactly blame him for those things, but that doesn't mean that she has to like him. She's civil around him for your sake, but that's all.

"Do you want some?" You ask, always willing to offer her whatever you have. Sharing is caring, and you definitely care about a certain Australian beauty. 

She looks down at you before shaking her head. "No, I'm good." You swish the liquid around, peering down into the bottle as it glides from side to side. "Me too," you say, setting it down beside your chair. "Let's go dance!" You suggest excitedly, using your strength to hoist your body out of the seat. Sorely miscalculating your moves, your foot doesn't quite connect with the ground how you intended; you stumble, falling right into Rosie's waiting arms.

She was watching you carefully, having a feeling that this would happen. 

"Nope, I'm taking you home. No dancing for you." You whine and pout, but Rose doesn't budge. Eventually you give up, and allow her to hold you close as she helps you walk out of the house. You rest your head on her shoulder, and she has to fight the butterflies that take flight.

As the two of you near the door, Rose spots Alex in the living room. She shoots him a cocky grin, as if to say 'checkmate' before she leads you out the door.

-----

The ride home was getting off to a rather interesting start. It took Rosie a while to wrangle you into the car and buckle you in, but she eventually managed to do it. Now, though, a new problem is arising: you're being flirty, and she doesn't know what to do with herself.

"You're so pretty," you compliment, leaning over the center console to whisper the phrase in her ear. She gulps and attempts to calm her heart down, but she's having trouble. "Shush," she commands, blushing as she lets out a little giggle. She tries to remind herself that you're just drunk -- that there's no real meaning behind your words -- but it feels good to pretend.

After a moment, you return to your seat, and she lets out a sigh of relief. 

Barely 2 minutes later, you place a hand on her knee, saying gently, "You always take such good care of me. Thank you, Rose." She sneaks a glance at you, and her heart nearly melts at the smile you're sending her way. Your eyes are shining with sincerity, and she'd surely get lost in them if she weren't busy driving. 

The rest of the ride is filled with more flirting and compliments from you, all of which send her into a gay panic, but she wouldn't have wanted it any other way.

----

Now, laying in your bed as Rosé rounds up some pajamas for you, the effects of the alcohol really begin setting in. You're still in the playful, teasing phase, but you know you'll have a major hangover tomorrow. Whatever Alex put in those drinks is catching up with you and running its course throughout your body.

"Rosie, do you like anyone?" You call out, toying with your fingers like a toddler. She emerges from the bathroom, washcloth in hand, just as you ask the very words she's been fearing.

She goes to respond, but you interrupt her with a drunken giggle. "Because I do. Her name rhymes with nosey." You chuckle at yourself, but she's too busy trying not to freak out to return the gesture. When you don't question her further, she relaxes her shoulders. How many more times could she get away with avoiding her feelings?

She pushes the scary thought away, instead opting to bring over your clothes and give you a minute to change. Thankfully you're coherent enough to do that on your own -- the thought of you flirting with her while half naked and self-assured sends her wild, and she knows she'd slip up and confess. 

Once you're dressed, she comes back over to the bed and sits down in front of you. She brings the rag up to your face and slides it across your cheeks and neck, knowing just what you need. This isn't the first time she's done this for you, and she can't deny the rush she feels when you look up at her with those big eyes, filled with gratitude.

You sigh at the coolness, relishing in the way that it soothes your hot skin. A soft thank you slips past your lips as your eyelids flutter shut, and Rosé almost lets herself imagine that you're hers. That she just brought her girlfriend back home and now she's taking care of her. But before she can get too lost in that fantasy, she pulls away, slipping the rag into your hand so that you can use it on yourself now.

"Well, I think my work here is done." She declares, patting your leg lovingly. She moves to stand, and the action prompts you to speak up.

"Wait," you start, grabbing her wrist before she can get away. You meant to tug gently, but you must've misjudged your strength; in an instant, she's close to you again, just a breath away. Her face is right in front of yours, and you can feel her warm breath against your lips. 

Her eyes are wide now, and a subtle tremble runs through her. She's never been this close to you, and although she's terrified, she doesn't want to move away. She wants to give in -- to lean forward the tiniest bit and capture your lips -- but she can't. Her breathing becomes labored as she notices your gaze move from her eyes to her lips. Do you like her back? Surely not, you're just drunk...right?

Her pink lips look so kissable right now, the gloss on them shining in the low lamplight. She's close enough that you can smell her fruity shampoo and feel every jagged breath she draws in.

"Y/N--" 

That's all it takes to set you into motion. You bring a hand up to her cheek, cupping it sweetly as you press your lips to hers. She sighs at the contact, melting into your embrace, and allows herself to let her walls down. Her lips move against yours slowly, unsure -- this is new for both of you, and you're testing the waters. One of her hands comes up to rest against the back of your neck, and she pulls you impossibly closer. 

After she subconsciously bites your lip - the action drawing a groan from you - she snaps back to reality and pulls away. Her lips are red and swollen, and you have to stop yourself from leaning back in. She looks like she wants to do the same, but she centers herself before she can.

"I, uh, I'm gonna go. Goodnight, Y/N." She says breathlessly, swallowing as she runs a hand through her hair. She doesn't give herself anymore time to change her mind, and soon she's rushing out, failing to even give you so much as a second glance. 

Shocked, you sit back and let your mind try and piece together what the hell just happened. The kiss worked well in sobering you up, at least for the time being, but you wish it hadn't. Now, you're forced to sit alone with your feelings again, lips still tingling with the memory of hers against them.

----

The Next Morning

*ring ring*

The blare of your ringtone sounds especially loud now, making you wince in pain. Your head is pounding, and that definitely isn't helping. Quickly, you roll over and pick it up, keeping your eyes closed as you press the button and hold it to your ear. "Hello?" You ask groggily, voice still laced with sleep.

"Hey, Y/N. The girls and I are going out later; do you wanna come with?" Jennie's sweet voice asks. You rub your forehead, now opening your eyes and staring at the ceiling as you ponder your options. With a glance at the clock, you see that you've already slept a good portion of the day away.

"I'd love to, but I'm pretty hungover right now Jen." You chuckle despite yourself, grinning when she laughs back.

"Rosie told us you might be dealing with that." Jennie laughs again, but you go quiet. Did she tell them everything that happened, or did she try and forget about it? After all, she basically ran away -- surely she regrets it. You scold yourself for even thinking that someone as out of your league as Rosé could like you back.

"Jisoo whipped up her special 'hangover-reverser' drink for you, as she calls it." She adds, hoping that'll win you over. Lost in your thoughts, you forget to answer her. 

Jennie takes your silence the wrong way, saying, "You don't have to come, but we'd love to hang out." She sounds sad at the thought of you staying home, and a feeling of guilt creeps into your mind. Work has kept you from hanging out with all of them recently, and they miss you. You miss them too, and quickly decide that a hangover (and the awkward situation you'll be subjected to when face to face with Rosé) aren't enough of a deal breaker to decline their offer. 

"I'll be over in a few. Tell Jisoo to make a couple more for the road… I'll need all the help I can get." 

Jennie laughs again, and you pep up at the sweet sound. She celebrates, and you can hear the girls clapping in the background, shouting praise at her for convincing you to come. The two of you say your goodbyes, and you begin getting ready.

-----

"Jisoo, you're a lifesaver." You confess, flopping back onto the couch. The unnie responds with a smug, "I know," from her place in front of the mirror. 

You lick the remaining liquid from your lips, and Rose shifts in her seat across the room. She can't get the feeling of your kiss out of her mind, and seeing you do that only makes things worse. 

"Here's the second one," Lisa says, smirking as she pats your shoulder and hands you the cup. You smile back at her and smack her butt as a wordless thank you.

"Alright, so where exactly are we going, girls?" You ask as you tuck your feet underneath your body.

"I was thinking we could shop around Hongdae. They changed some stuff since we were there last, and it looks awesome." Jennie informs.

"Sounds good to me." Jisoo replies from the adjacent room, applying the finishing touches to her makeup. 

Lisa agrees as well, and so does Rosie. At the sound of her soft voice, you make eye contact with her for the first time today. Ever since you arrived earlier, you've avoided her. She's done much the same, refraining from saying much to you at all. The girls haven't seemed to pick up on the tension yet, but they're observant; surely it won't take them long. 

As you replay the fateful events in your mind again, you allow your head to lull back and rest against the cushion of the couch. Last night, Rosé’s eyes were speaking all of the words she could never tell you out loud, sparkling with repressed desire. It wasn't hard to tell that she was nervous, but she kissed you like she had been waiting to for an eternity. So, clearly, your confusion at the whole situation is understandable. Why did she run away?

"Ready?" Jisoo asks, kicking your foot to get your attention. 

"As I'll ever be." You state as you stick a hand out to her. She understands immediately, swiftly helping you up. A little groan leaves you, your head spinning from standing up so quickly, so she doesn't move until you get adjusted. 

"Thanks," you smile, giving her a sweet kiss on the cheek. Having such good friends always comes in handy, but there's something special to the little moments like these. She hums in response, and the two of you lead the way out to the car.

Rosé watches the whole encounter as she falls in line behind you, wishing she were in Jisoo's place. Last night was a wake up call for her, unexpected in literally every way, and she panicked. Looking back now, she wishes she would've at least explained her behavior to you. The kiss awakened something within her, releasing all of the feelings she's held in for so long. She didn't rush out because she didn't enjoy the kiss; if she had any idea that that's the impression it left on you, she would've ran back in and kissed you a million times over.

Lisa notices Rosie's furrowed brow and downcast eyes, and instantly knows something's up. 

Now in the car, she leans in close to ask, "Everything okay?" 

"Mhm." Rosie replies, doing her best to sound like her normal self. 

The years have made Lisa an expert at reading the slightly older girl, but she doesn't want to push her. If she wants to talk about it, she will.

"Okay…" Lisa trails off, coincidentally making fleeting eye contact with you through the rearview mirror. On any other day, you would've fought Lisa over the seat next to Rosé; but today, of course, is unlike any other. You're in uncharted territory now, and you have no idea when -- or if -- you'll return to normal. For now, you make do with the passenger's seat, keeping yourself busy by looking out the window. Jennie's driving is smooth, and you appreciate that in your altered state. A low pulsing still vibrates through your head every now and then, but it's become much more bearable. Jisoo truly knows what she's doing with that concoction.

----

Hongdae, Seoul -- A Few Hours Later

"Jennie," Lisa huffs out, struggling to carry everything she’s been handed. "How much stuff do you need?!" The maknae does her best to keep the bags from touching the ground, but that task is proving difficult. 

"We're almost there!" Jennie says, dismissing the younger girls complaints. 

A few minutes later, you're seated at the new restaurant Jennie's spent the night talking about. Seeing the girls so happy today has taken your mind off of your own problems somewhat, but sometimes the issues are unavoidable… like right now. 

Though she tries to be discreet about it -- even going so far as to hide behind her menu -- you can feel Rosé's eyes on you. The waiter seated you at a booth, and of course she happened to sit right in front of you. Having her attention has always been something you enjoy, but you're so embarrassed about what happened that you can't help but shy away from it now. If drunkenly confessing your feelings for her wasn't bad enough, you also kissed her. What could be next?

Rosie's dying on the inside a little more with every minute that passes. The past few hours were filled with plenty of fun and stupidity for the lot of you, stopping in just about every store you came across and joking all the while. But the entire time, you and Rosé kept your distance. Occasionally you'd crack a joke to make her laugh or the two of you would share a look, but the air around you was always thick with the emotions you couldn't give voice to. It also doesn't help that part of Rosé is afraid you didn't even really mean to kiss her. If she blames it on your drunkenness, she doesn't have to process her feelings; she can just go back to suffering in silence. When she looks at you, though, she knows there's no denying what you both feel for each other. 

"Can I get you started with some drinks?" The waiter approaches again, pen and pad ready to go.

"Do you have sikhye?" You inquire, raising your head to look at him.

"We do."

"Great," you smile, getting an idea. "I'll take one of those and a glass of water, please." He jots down your request before recording the other orders and setting off to get the drinks prepared. 

In order to preserve the plan, you don't dare look in Rosé's eyes.

A couple minutes later, he returns with a big tray of drinks; it's a wonder he didn't accidently drop any on the way. Jennie and Jisoo ordered multiple for the table so you could sample them, and you smile at the gesture. They all look tasty, but one in particular catches your attention.

When he hands it to you, you wordlessly slide it over to Rosé. You know she loves it, and you did order it for her, after all. She lets out a little gasp of excitement, and you choose this moment to really look at her. Her eyes are shining again, and you laugh -- if anything is capable of cheering her up, it's something that she can eat or drink.

She beams at you while extending her hand, gently resting it against yours on the table. It's warm and comforting, and you can't help but want to hold it forever. Her fingertips brush against the soft skin of your wrist, and you almost melt at the tenderness of the motion. 

Thankfully the other girls aren't paying attention, or else you'd be thoroughly embarrassed. They continue on with their conversation, leaving you and Rosé to get lost in your own world for the next while.

More time passes, in which you place your food orders and the waiter later brings it out to you.

"Enjoy, ladies." He declares before bowing and returning to the host stand. 

"It looks so yummy," Rose moans, snatching up her chopsticks before digging in. The other girls agree as well, and soon all of you are eating like there's no tomorrow. The flavors go perfectly together, and you pat yourself on the back for choosing the dish you did.

"Do you wanna try some?" You ask after noticing Rose eyeing your plate. You quirk an eyebrow at her as you wait for her answer, which comes in the form of a sheepish nod. 

"That's my girl," you declare with a smile on your face, happy to bring back some of your playful banter. Rosie's heart speeds up at the title, but she tries not to show it too much. Although it's a bit unmannerly, you reach a bite of your food across the table to her and grin when she takes it. Her cheeks puff out in that signature chipmunk pose, and your smile widens. 

"Yah, that's delicious." She sighs, closing her eyes to allow her palate to focus on the flavors. 

You shake your head at how much of a dork she is for food, but giggle despite yourself. She really is the cutest.

-----

"Good evening, everyone, this is the manager speaking. Our lounge area will open in 10 minutes, and karaoke will begin shortly after!" 

Lisa looks at Jennie incredulously, her mouth hanging open. "They have karaoke, too?? How cool is that!" 

Jennie smirks, knowing how good she is at choosing places to take you guys. This joint is definitely somewhere that you'll frequent whenever you're around. "I know right?" She asks, satisfied with herself.

In Rosie's eyes, the karaoke announcement was fate working its magic. She's spent the day mulling over everything that's transpired, deciding earlier that all she needed was one more sign. Now that she had that last little push, all she has left to do is gather up all the courage she possesses. 

As the 5 of you finish up your meals and wait for it to kick off, she racks her brain for the perfect song to sing. She's going to confess.

---

Fully stuffed and satisfied with the amazing dinner you just had, you all follow the waiter towards the lounge area. Located in the back of the restaurant, it's complete with 1 main, corner stage, and 2 smaller ones off to the side. Plush couches and chairs stretch out in front of the stages, allowing the audience to kick back and enjoy the performances. 

A small bar is tucked away in the far corner of the room, stocked with a vast array of different liquors and mixes. Strips of light line the shelves behind the bartender, giving the space its own unique style, and you take some time to admire it all. A few small disco balls hang from the ceiling, placed strategically throughout the room to allow for the most amount of ambience possible. All of the different colors of the rainbow take their turn cycling through the projector, flashing and shining around the room in their random patterns. It's a very welcoming place to be.

You're the first guests in there, so you're free to choose whatever stage you want. "Which one should we go to?" Jisoo asks, doing a little half spin as she looks around the room. 

"Really, unnie? You have to ask?" Lisa rolls her eyes and scoffs; she thought her best friend knew her better than that. Obviously Lisa wants to go to the big stage. How else would she show off all of her moves while she sings?

"You're so dramatic." Jisoo grumbles, sending the maknae an annoyed look of her own as she's dragged over to the performance area. You, Jennie, and Rosé trail after them, shaking your heads at their behavior. 

----

"Come on, we're going first." You bite back a laugh as you watch Lisa tug Jennie up from her spot on the sofa, where she had just sat down and gotten comfortable. Jennie tries to protest, even pointing at the drink she just got from the bar to convince Lisa to let her stay, but she isn't having it. They walk over to the kiosk built into the wall, and take their time in choosing a song to sing.

Their performance is a wild ride, to say the least. Lisa forgets the words at one point, opting to compensate by freestyling a rap and dancing around wildly while everyone hypes her up. She could've just looked at the lyrics on the stage screen, you realize, but that wouldn't have been even half as fun. Jennie breaks into the box of props sitting just off stage, pulling out a multicolored, frilly scarf and wrapping it around her singing partner. To finish off her own look, she rummages around until she finds a comically large top hat and pair of heart shaped glasses.

"Golden buzzer!" You shout out, pressing an imaginary button on the table. The girls celebrate, and your combined laughter fills the room. 

Next up is Jisoo, who decides to put her charm on full display and serenade all of you. She starts off on stage, letting her deep voice lull you into a state of entrancement before she approaches the couch. She greets each of you individually, giving you separate attention just like a rock star would, and all of you go wild for her. She tries to keep up the edgy, heartthrob persona, but it fades a bit when she cracks a smile, her eyes turning into those adorable crescents that you all love so much.

As her song comes to an end, you excuse yourself to the bathroom. In order to go through with your plan -- that is, singing a song to Rosie -- you have to calm your nerves a bit first. You splash water on your face and sigh as the chilly liquid slides down your skin. A bead of it trails down your neck, soaking into the cotton of your collar the second it hits it, and you're reminded of last night. A familiar warmth runs through you at the memory of Rosé's hands on your body, taking care of you like always. She's the definition of girlfriend material, and you always kick yourself for waiting so long to tell her about your feelings.

A basket of paper towels sits on the marble countertop of the sink, and you reach forward to grab one and dry your face. With one final look in the mirror, you throw the paper away and exit the restroom. 

Too busy mentally preparing yourself for the performance, you fail to notice that Rosé is already standing on the stage, mic in hand. You lift your head as you near the stage, and she makes eye contact with you; she looks nervous, so you give her a reassuring smile and move back to your seat. Behind the nervousness, you can see how excited she is; you're intrigued. 

"So, this song goes out to a very special girl here tonight. I hope you like it." She announces shyly, garnering some applause from the small group of diners that have filtered their way in from the restaurant. She presses play, and shakes her hands out in an attempt to get rid of the anxiety building within her. Up until now, keeping her worries in check had been doable; though as she stands alone on stage, looking down at the object of her affection, she's afraid all over again. And yet, somehow in an instant, you take some of those fears away. You're looking at her with so much love and encouragement in your eyes that Rosé thinks she can accomplish anything. 

The song -- one you're hearing for the first time tonight -- picks up, and she begins.

There are three words, & I want you to know they are true

There are three words, that I've been dying to say to you 

Burns in my heart, like a fire that ain't goin' out

I need to let you know

You're unintentionally holding in a breath as she croons the words out, singing straight to you. Her soulful vocals ring out across the space, making goosebumps appear on your skin; her voice always strikes a certain chord within you, the beautiful tones sounding like Heaven. She makes it feel like you're the only two people in the room; that even the world stopped for a moment to watch this play out.

I wanna say I love you, I wanna hold you tight

I want your arms around me & I, want your lips on mine

I wanna say I love you, but, babe I'm terrified

My hands are shaking, my heart is racing

Cause it's something I can't hide, it's something I can't deny

So here I go

Baby I lo-o-o-ve you

The smile on your face can't be wiped away by anything; no natural force of the universe could get in the way of this. Your heart swells at her confession as things finally fall into place. Possessed by the love you hold for the goddess in front of you, you decide to be brave and join her on stage. 

She squeals and covers her face as you approach, and the audience erupts into cheers at this. They whistle and clap loudly, and you can hear the distinct voices of the girls from behind you. Pulling her hands away, Rosé's adorable face is revealed in all its glory. She has tears in her eyes, and they let you know that the past 48 hours have been just as much of an emotional rollercoaster for her as they have been for you.

You press a kiss to the back of her hand, feeling your chest tighten at the way it lightly shakes against your lips. You take a step closer and wrap your arms around her waist as she hooks her right one around your shoulders. Her left hand holds the mic between you two, making it so that you can sing the next part together. 

I've never said, these words to anyone, anyone at all

Never got this close, cause I was always afraid I would fall

But now I know, that I'll fall right in-to your arms

Don't ever let me go

I wanna say I love you, I wanna hold you tight

I want your arms around me & I, want your lips on mine

I wanna say I love you, but, babe I'm terrified

My hands are shaking, my heart is racing

Cause it's something I can't hide, it's something I can't deny

So here I go

Baby I lo-o-o-ve you

The entire time you're singing, she can't take her eyes off of you. She watches as your lips move along with the words, your face scrunching up occasionally to aid in hitting all the notes, and she even forgets to keep singing a couple times. You're so close to her, just like last night. She vows that this time will be different, though. 

After you finish the verse, Rosé surges forward, closing what little distance is left between you. During the performance you had gradually migrated closer to one another, so that made her job all the more easy.

She leans into you and smiles at the feeling of your racing heart. It lets her know that this is actually happening -- that after spending so many months waiting to finally confess and have you return her feelings, it's happening.

She tastes the strawberry chapstick on your lips, and it reminds her of the time she told you it's her favorite type. You used to wear a vanilla kind… does that mean you switched to strawberry after she told you that? (Yes, yes it does).

You bring your right hand up to her jaw and cup it as you move to deepen the kiss. A soft groan escapes her lips at this, and she doesn't waste any time in kissing you back even harder than before. It's long-overdue, and she can't get enough of you.

All too quickly, though, Rosie gets lost in the embrace, and the lounge is filled with feedback as the mic drops to the floor. She jumps at the sudden noise before snatching it up, her face crimson with embarrassment. After placing it back on the stand, she turns to hide her face in your neck. You just chuckle as you wrap your arms around her again. She snuggles in close to you, and you rest your head against hers.

"Awwww, they grow up so fast!" Jisoo wails, wiping imaginary tears from her eyes. 

"Cough it up, Jendeukie." Lisa smirks, sticking a hand out in front of the other girl. Jennie shoots her a glare, but nonetheless reaches to the table in front of her to grab her purse. 

"Not another word, Manoban." Jennie says, shoving the 5 dollar bill into Lisa's waiting palm.

The younger girl clears her throat dramatically before saying loudly, "I TOLD YOU SO! Nobody ever listens to the maknae." 

You and Rosé can't contain your laughter anymore, and neither can the girls.

Soon the two of you are back on the couches, cuddling in the corner seat as the others make kissy noises at you. 

She's nestled up against your side, resting her head against your chest contently. 

"I know we kinda did things out of order and all, but I might as well ask. Will you be my girlfriend?" You smile dorkily as she raises up to look at you, a playful smirk of her own tugging at her lips. 

"Absolutely, Y/N." She has stars in her eyes and a dreamy expression on her features as she leans in to kiss you again.