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#and again this is only part 1 of your gift! <3
petitelepus · 2 days
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The Demon Gift: Choosing Hantengu, Part 4
Demon!Slave!Hantengu X Fem!Reader
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Summary: You manage to find yourself and your Demons a new home and go shopping for stuff.
Warnings: None
A/N: Demon Slave AU, Domesticated Demons, Reader Insert, Fem!Reader, Hantengu, Master/Slave, Karaku, Sekido, Urogi, Aizetsu
Tags: @hantenguclonesimp-minuszoha
Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4
After a good night's rest and a healthy breakfast, you called a van for you, Hantengu, and his 4 clones with tinted windows so the sun wouldn't burn them. Sadly, due to the law, you had to put collars you had bought the day before around Sekido's, Karaku's, Aizetsu's, and Urogi's necks.
"These collars are humiliating!" Sekido growled from the back seat and you silently cursed in your mind. Bratty Demons usually got beaten to submission, but you didn't want any of that to happen to any of your Demons.
"You have a mouthy Demon there, little miss!" The driver said and you were almost tempted to tell him to mind his own business, but instead, you just laughed a little, "Ha ha, yeah…"
"Want me to help you with it?" The driver asked and you almost choked on air, "Excuse me?"
"I can beat some sense into it if you like and I only charge you 50 bucks for it!"
Were you hearing right? This man wanted to beat your Demon so he would quiet down and he expected you to pay for it!? How cruel could someone be? Then again, you remembered that your wicked family was in no way different.
Sekido and the other clones must have heard the driver's offer because they were all quiet in fear of being beaten by the burly driver. You scowled as you looked at the driver, "Thank you, but no thank you."
"Okay, I will do it for free!" The man tried and you shook your head, "No."
"Fine, I pay you!"
"I'm seriously not interested." You were starting to lose your patience with this idiotic driver. He was about to say something but before he could, you snapped, "One more word and I will give you a review so awful you will never drive in this city again!"
That made the man shut up and you were pretty pleased with yourself for the rest of the drive. Finally, you made it to the house you were supposed to see and you thanked the Gods that it was a cloudy day so the sun wouldn't burn the Demons.
"That would be-!" The driver started, but you didn't let him finish.
"Don't bother waiting." You said as you slapped some money on his palm and got out of the car, the Demons following behind you and you were all awed by what you saw.
The house was absolutely gorgeous looking and there was an enormous backyard that looked more like a fucking meadow.
"Ooh, look at all this space!" Urogi laughed as he looked around, excitement clear on his face, "So much space for me to spread my wings!"
"It does look amazing." You nodded as you guys walked towards the front door. You raised your fist, ready to knock, but before you could do so, the door was opened and a small woman with huge glasses greeted you.
"Oh, you must be the buyers I was waiting for!" She smiled and you blinked, "Uh, sorry, we were told to come here by 11am?"
"Oh, that Randal must have given me the wrong time, AGAIN." The lady chuckled, "I'm Hortensia and- Oh? Who are these handsome young men?"
"Oh, uh," You looked at the Demons over your shoulder and then smiled at the lady, "They are my Demons. This place does allow Demons, right?"
"Honey, this place and all the land are yours if we can agree on a deal." Hortensia smiled, "Now come on in before the sun comes out! We don't want you young men to ruin your handsome faces!"
You were a little stunned but this lady's acceptance towards Demons, but you were welcoming the change to usual harassment. You and the clones entered the house and you were taken aback by how amazing the whole place looked. Huge and spacious and the furniture was just as gorgeous.
"Does the furniture come with the house?" You asked and Hortensia smiled, "They do! Of course, you are going to have to bring your own electronics such as a TV or two, but the house comes with furniture. The owners want to get rid of this place as soon as possible."
"Why?" You asked, honestly confused why someone would want to do so to a house this gorgeous, and the woman smiled, "Nasty divorce."
"Aah," You nodded, suddenly understanding. As you guys explored the house, you found out that the kitchen was big and connected to a spacious dining room. You could see yourself and the Demons eating there together.
The open living room was huge and so were the windows, letting in as much light as possible… Which wasn't so good for Hantengu or his clones.
"These windows, uh…" You started carefully.
"The windows are huge, yes, but it's nothing that proper curtains won't fix." Hortensia smiled, "The whole place was renovated by the sellers to fit their modern taste."
"I see." You nodded as you glanced at the Demons who were following behind you, "What do you guys think?"
"It needs curtains…" Sekido nodded and you had never seen him so calm yet, "But it's sufficient."
"It's wicked!" Karaku laughed and Urogi joined him, "And awesome!"
"I could see us living here." Aizetsu thought quietly and you smiled and looked at the real estate agent.
"Honestly, this place looks amazing." You said and the woman smiled as she showed you guys around the house, "There are 5 bedrooms and a home office but if you want you can change it into a guest room with the convertible sofa in there. There are 4 bathrooms, 2 here downstairs and the other 2 on the second floor."
"Wow," You smiled but just as you were thinking that the place couldn't get any better, Hortensia smiled, "I also have no doubt in my mind that you are going to love the basement."
"Why is that?" You asked and she smiled as she motioned you to follow her, "Come come and you will see!"
You and the clones followed the old woman down to the basement and what you saw made you and the Demons gasp out loud. There was an absolutely amazing-looking indoor pool, but it wasn't actually a pool but a bath instead?
"What is this…?"
"You like it, right? The owners used to travel around the world and they fell in love with Japan's hot springs. Of course, they wanted almost exact replica so they built this indoor bath."
"It's amazing…!" You were in awe but then you noticed a glass door on the side and you got curious, "Where does that door lead?"
"Go ahead and take a look!" Hortensia smiled and you walked to the door and opened it to look inside.
"A wooden room?" You wondered out loud.
"That's a real authentic Finnish sauna! Like I said, the sellers loved to travel." The older real estate agent said cheerfully and you were honestly speechless. Just how amazing can a house get? Your old home, back with your horrible family was amazing, but you only felt safe and nice in your own room. This house felt so much like that safe room of yours.
"What do you think? Is this your new home?" The woman asked and you smiled as you looked at her, "When can we move in?"
Hortensia explained that as soon as the sellers got paid, the house and the land that comes with would belong to you. Not wanting to waste any time, you told her to contact the sellers and tell them that you were ready to pay and move in as fast as possible.
While your agent was calling the sellers, you were waiting for a new taxi van with a different driver to pick you and the Demons up and take you back to your hotel. You looked at your Demons and smiled, "So? How are you feeling about this place?"
The clones shared a quick glance with each other before nodding.
"It's far away from nasty humans…!" Sekido said and Aizetsu nodded, "Here we can be free."
"And I can fly as much as I like as long as the sun is out!" Urogi smiled and Karaku grinned, "Do we get our own rooms? That's wicked!"
"What about you Hantengu?" You asked as you pulled your shirt's collar down and looked down to see the small Demon who was trapped or resting between your breasts. It honestly depended on how you looked at it.
"I- I liked it…! N- no bullies here…! Just Mistress…!" The tiny Demon whimpered and you awed as you gently petted the bump on his head, "Aww, that makes me happy."
"I wish I could turn small," You heard Karaku comment behind you and Urogi laughed, "Yeah, that would make me happy also!"
"When the two of you need special care like Hantengu I'll make sure to give you some." You said and the two gleeful clones cackled as they high-fived each other. You couldn't help but roll your eyes at them, but you were still smiling.
Behavior like this would have earned you some glares back at your family, but now you and your Demons could be as free and silly as you liked to be.
Thanks to Hortensia, you were able to meet the sellers as quickly as was just possible. The couple looked like very normal people who used to be in love but were no longer. They were more than happy to sell the house and land to you and you were more than happy to move in as quickly as possible.
So couple of days later, it was time to say farewell to your hotel room that had served as your temporary home and you moved to the new house with the 5 Demons of yours.
"Freedom!" Urogi and Karaku both laughed as soon as they made it inside.
"Quiet down you two!" Sekido snapped, "You're being too loud!"
"Who cares?" Karaku laughed, "This is our place now!"
"Karaku is right Sekido," You said as you closed the front door behind you, "This is our place now so you guys can do whatever you want."
"Still…!"
"We are more than thankful for this humble home." Aizetsu said as he looked at you and you smiled, "I'm happy that you guys are happy."
You looked inside your shirt, and gently pulled Hantengu out to show him the huge living room area, "How do you like your new home Hantengu?"
"I- it's huge…!" He whimpered and you smiled a little as you walked to the huge dark couches and set the small Demon on the table between the soft furniture and your only possession, your computer.
You sighed, tired due to all the stuff that happened lately, but you still had so much to do. For example, your stomach was empty and so was your new fridge. You would have to buy food for yourself, meat for Demons, and at least curtains for the living room's huge windows to block out the sun…
But as you thought about what you needed, more and more things popped into your mind. Clothes, electronics, bed sheets, towels, and the list went on. You would no doubt also need a car so you could move all the stuff you would need to buy. That, and you wanted to be able to move easily with Hantengu and his clones and not rely on some unknown driver.
Good thing that you had a driver's license, so all you needed was to get a car. There was still plenty of money left from what your stepfather gave you so money shouldn't be a problem. You just needed a car big enough for 6 and space for groceries and other stuff.
"Guys, I need to go shopping in the city." You said and this caught the Demons' attention.
"You're leaving us alone?" Aizetsu asked and you remembered that no one really left their Demons alone in fear that they could escape or such. But these five weren't your slaves, but more like roommates.
So you told them that, "You are free to do as you please. I was thinking of buying us a television, but if you want, you can come shopping with me? While we are out there we could get you guys some stuff you would like in your own rooms?"
"I'm in!" Karaku jumped up from the couch faster than you had ever seen anyone move.
"Me too!" Urogi said, but you shook your head, "Urogi, you better stay here and watch the house. No offense, but you may attract a little too much attention right now."
"I'll stay with him." Sekido said, "It's better that someone sensible is here than just one knucklehead."
"If it's just alright, I would like to accompany you to the city?" Aizetsu asked, "I can help you carry stuff?"
"Okay, sounds good. But!" There was a huge but, "You need to put the collars on for the time we are out."
Karaku whined and you frowned, "I don't like it either but if you guys don't wear them then you could be taken away from me."
"P- please, don't leave me alone…!" Hantengu whimpered and awed as you gently petted the small Demon, "Sekido and Urogi will be here with you. I promise I will bring you something extra nice so wait for me here, okay?"
Hantengu looked like he wanted to cry, but instead, he nodded a little and you smiled as you ordered a taxi for you and the clones of sorrow and pleasure. While you waited, you fastened the collars around their necks, looking sorry and apologizing to them, "I'm sorry about these…"
"I know… But you're doing it because you care…" Aizetsu nodded as he frowned, "So I understand."
You smiled a little, "Thank you for understanding."
Finally, your ride arrived and you and the clones got on and headed towards the city. The first thing you did was to go and buy a new and spacious car for you and the Demons, but apparently, you couldn't just walk in there and buy the car you wanted.
No, they had to be ordered and delivered first. You were a little frustrated, but you couldn't do anything about it. You ended up ordering the biggest minivan there was and paid extra to have the windows tinted so the sun wouldn't burn your Demons. The nice salesman promised to have your car ready after a week and while you waited he rented you a huge delivery van you could use meanwhile.
With that done and over, you, Aizetsu, and Karaku headed to the shopping mall. As soon as you stepped inside, the Demons were in complete awe of everything, the lights, the number of people, and the stores.
"So many people…" Aizetsu muttered quietly and Karaku grinned, "So many!"
"Okay, you guys are about the same size as Sekido and Urogi, right?" You asked and the Demons nodded and you smiled, "Great, let's get you guys some clothes then."
The three of you headed to the clothing stores and time really passed when you were shopping. You were never a huge clothing shopping fan, but with your wardrobe shredded to pieces, you needed some new clothes as well.
Spring was on and Summer was just around the corner so you needed something light to wear. You could buy heavier and warmer clothes when Fall comes. You were rather happy with the bags of clothes you had gotten and even happier that you had two strong Demons who helped you to carry some of the bags.
"Okay, then we need-!"
"Ooh, Mistress, Mistress!" You heard Karaku call you and you stopped and turned to see what had caught the Demon's attention.
"What is it Karaku?" You asked and the Demon pointed at the store he had stopped in front of. You took a look and saw that it was a videogame store and a pretty big one also. There were even some kids trying out the games set for customers to try.
"What are those kids doing?" Karaku asked and you blinked, stunned that he didn't know what video games were, but then again, he was part of Hantengu and you doubted that the timid Demon had ever seen a game like that before.
"They are playing video games." You replied and Karaku repeated after you, "Video games?"
"We can get some if you would like?" You asked and that was when you remembered your destroyed Nintendo Switch that your awful stepsiblings had broken. You still had what was left of your console so you should be able to regain all your saved files.
Actually, you started to like the idea of having video games in your house. While it was daytime and you would be forced to stay inside to hide from the sun, you could play games together.
"You know what? Let's buy a couple of consoles and games." You smiled and Karaku was absolutely beaming in joy, "Alright!"
The three of you stepped into the stores and started to look around for interesting games and consoles. Knowing pretty much what to get, you grabbed a couple of Just Dance, Pokémon, Mario, and Sports games, and three newest Nintendo Switches. The salesman looked a little stunned by the Demons who followed your every step, but no man or woman ever says no to money.
Happy with your shopping, you and the Demons took the clothing bags and gaming things to your rental van, before heading back to the mall to continue shopping. You bought some pillows, blankets, curtains and sheets, cleaning supplies and once you had those bought, you went to buy something to fill your huge fridge with.
When you made it to the meat section in the store, you turned to ask Aizetsu and Karaku if they preferred their meat cooked or raw, but when you turned you saw them staring at the raw meat on the butcher's display. They must have been hungry and rightfully so, your last meal was at the hotel before you left.
"What are you guys looking at?" You asked as you walked next to them and they both looked at you.
"Lamb!"
"Beef." They replied in perfect unison and you couldn't help but smile a little as you turned to look at the butcher on the other side of the display, "Can we get some lamb and beef to go?"
"Of course, young miss!" The man nodded as he grabbed the meats on display and chopped them into fine pieces that he quickly wrapped in paper.
"Your Demons have a fine taste!" The butcher laughed as he handed you the meat over the display and you chuckled a little, "Thank you."
You noticed that Karaku and Aizetsu were staring at the meat packet and you smiled a little, "You can eat in the car once we leave."
The Demons nodded, both excited over the idea of food. You and they finished shopping quickly and once you had everything a human or Demon might need, you got into the van, removed the collars from Demons' necks, and drove out of the parking hall and towards your new home outside the city. While you were driving, Aizetsu and Karaku enjoyed some of the beef and lamb at the back.
"Leave something for Hantengu, Sekido, and Urogi!" You called and Karaku laughed, "They have their own meat!"
"But sharing is caring…" Aizetsu tried to say and you quickly added, "There is enough meat for all 5 of you! Now, tell me what did you like most at the mall?"
The three of you went through the things you had seen or bought and before you knew it, you were back at your new home and just in time as the sun settled. You parked the car and honked, accidentally startling poor Demon of sorrow, to which you quickly apologized.
Hearing the honk, Urogi, Sekido, and Hantengu on Sekido's shoulder came to inspect the noise and saw you guys with many, so many bags full of things you had bought.
"What is all this?" The Demon of anger asked as he took in all the bags at the back of the van and you smiled a little, "Clothes, food, stuff we might need."
"Ooh, did you bring anything for me?" Urogi asked excitedly.
"There is some prime meat for all of you. I'm going to put them in the fridge so they won't spoil while we get all the things in their places." You said as you grabbed heavy shopping bags and carried the bags filled with meat for Demons and food for you to the kitchen.
While you were gone, the Demons looked at each other.
"What did you find out?" Sekido asked and Aizetsu frowned, "She was very sweet and thoughtful… I think she is genuine."
"She bought us games and gave us delicious meat!" Karaku grinned and Urogi smiled excitedly, "Games?"
"Quiet!" Sekido snapped, "Are you two certain we can trust her?"
"Absolutely!" Karaku nodded and Aizetsu sighed, "I believe so also, so do we must test her so?"
"We can't be too careful…" Sekido glanced at Hantengu on his shoulder who whimpered as four sets of eyes bore into him, "I- I want to trust her, I really do…!"
"What are you guys talking about?"
The 5 Demons turned to see you standing by the house's entrance and you smiled, "Can you grab bags and bring them inside while I prepare some meat for you?"
"It would be our pleasure!" Karaku cackled and you smiled as you turned and headed back inside to prepare the Demons' meals.
"I think we can trust her, right?" Urogi thought out loud.
"Time will tell." Sekido nodded before looking at the bags in the van, "For starters, let's get everything inside. We are starving."
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naffeclipse · 4 months
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Merry Christmas @o-cinnamonstickz! This is dedicated to the most wonderful person in the world, my loveliest friend, and a dear soul. Cinna, I hope you know how much I adore you. You are such a kind and gentle soul. You flutter around my life like butterflies of every color and you deserve every sip of nectar and taste of honey. Thank you for being my friend. Won't you indulge with me once again?
A Garden Of Garlic
Part 1: An Encounter at Midnight
Vampire!Sun x Y/N (SFW)
You nurse the wild garlic growing in your garden, tend to the dead (and ensure they stay resting in peace,) and keep a watchful eye out for vampires in your cozy little town. There's much you don't know, but you do know this: automatons can't become vampires. But then you meet Sun. A count, an automaton, and, to your surefire conviction, a vampire.
Word Count: 10,700~ Warnings: Please see tags/warnings.
A/N: This is the first part of a three-part series focused on Vampire!Sun and his romance with a human female reader. The short journey will contain many gratifying moments, mild lore, and much of Sun being an equal menace and sweetheart. Expect to see the next part posted tomorrow, and the last posted after that.
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some-bunniii · 3 months
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Lucifer confessing to an artist reader
・❥ Lucifer gets jealous, and has to prove his love for you
| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 |
x: WOW this was a rollercoaster to write. Alastor being petty, a musical number, and.. 😏 you’ll have to read and see!
warnings: Mild swearing
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“Mreow?” 
You stirred slightly under the covers in your bed, waking from the noise. You were so warm and cozy, in your little nest of pillows that you hugged to your chest. Stilling yourself, you strained your ears, listening for whatever had awoken you.
“Mreooow,” came that needy, animalistic cry again.
“KeeKee?” You whispered hoarsely.
A high-pitched chirp answered your question.
Grumbling in protest, you grasped the sheets and pulled them from your face. Squinting at the morning light emanating from the large windows on the other end of the room. 
You rubbed a hand down your face, in an attempt to squeeze out the exhaustion still fogging your mind. With a sigh, you pivoted, placing your feet on the cold, wood floor beneath.
Now where was that furball? 
You scanned the room, before your eyes landed on the small black and white cyclopean cat. She sat on your nightstand, her tail swishing with happiness as you answered her call. 
“You silly kitty, what do you want so early in the morning?” You questioned her, and received another chirp as a response.
You always found it fascinating that the small feline was actually the key to the hotel, created by Lucifer’s magic as a gift to Charlie when she took over the place. 
You could feel it, even now, that warm crackle of energy as it flowed off KeeKee’s fur. It was faint, but so familiar. If you buried her face in her fur far enough, you could even smell traces of his scent. 
As you and Lucifer grew closer, so did KeeKee. She had started following around the hotel, always a few steps behind as you traveled the halls. This morning routine of hers wasn’t new either. Before, you’d open your door and find her sprawled out on the ground on her back, her belly exposed as she greeted you. 
You started leaving your door cracked after that, allowing her to enter whenever she pleased. She’d make her bed on the same cushion Lucifer was so fond of while you painted, and drift into sleep. 
Sometimes, you’d use her for practice sketches. Although you could only do so while she dreamed, as she was not as good at sitting still as Lucifer was.
It was almost as if she sensed the connection between the two of you, mirroring your bond with her own loyalty. With a soft smile, you reached out to pet KeeKee, feeling the comforting vibrations of her purrs resonating through your fingertips. 
Rising from the bed, you made your way into the small bathroom. Twisting the sink handle, you let the fountain of water flow into the drain as it is heated. 
Your eyes landed on the object next to the faucet, and you smiled unconsciously as you picked up the yellow rubber ducky. 
“Your new soap dispenser,” Lucifer had stated one evening, “Easily compactible to take it on the go and.. with the scent of apple pie.” 
He demonstrated by softly squeezing the sides of the toy, and a small glob of soap left its mouth and landed into the palm of his hand. 
You had taken it from him and lifted it to your nose, inhaling a deep breath. 
“Delectable.” You teased, before placing it on the table beside you.
After his little performance at the art studio, Lucifer’s affection towards you grew bolder by the day. He often arrived at your room with a gift or two, even more than his silly little ducks. 
Once, he brought you a small violin, the color pure angelic white with golden strings. You had stared at it in awe when he set it on the table.
“It’s white for you to paint,” Lucifer had explained, “Whatever little fantastical ideas you have to cover this instrument with, I just know it’ll be amazing.”
You had blushed, before letting your fingers glide across its smooth surface. Tracing its frame, memorizing its shape. 
“I was going to get you a fiddle, like my own. But, I believe this best suits the musical pieces you are so familiar with.”
You sat across from each other at the dining table in your room, arms resting lazily on its surface as you sipped from your glass of Spiced Apple Wine. 
That was another gift he had brought you. Claiming he only enjoyed the taste of fine-aged wine from his personal cellar. You had gotten used to its slightly sour taste by now, but you were glad for that slight pinch on your tongue. It kept you from ogling Lucifer for too long.
The only light emanating from your room was the candles placed around you, their flames dancing, casting shadows across the walls. The soft ting of piano keys thrummed in the air, flowing from a small brown radio on your dresser.
Not too long ago, Alastor had given it to you for your personal use. A very rare gift from a demon like him. You had just assumed it was his way of getting you on his side, your unease of him must’ve been apparent enough. 
Your years of attempted swindling by potential buyers for your pieces created a sixth sense, the ability to smell when someone’s words didn’t echo their intentions.
Even though you had no animosity towards him, and spoke to him frequently enough that you did not feel any kind of negative intentions from him, his mysterious past and psychopathic tendencies struck you as odd. His presence was dark and cold. 
Nothing like Lucifer’s, who’s aura was so warm and energetic you could get drunk off of it. 
Alastor’s? That would sober you up in an instant.
Why didn’t you feel the same about Lucifer? After all, he had the same charm that swooped those around him off their feet. 
‘His ability to love,’ you concluded in your head, ‘that was why.’
He showed deep care for the people close to him, while Alastor always held people at arms-length. Literally and figuratively.
Your personal feelings didn’t mean you weren’t going to use the radio, so whenever you’d hear Lucifer nearing your room, you’d switch it to polka. Learning by now that was one of his favorite genres. It played in the background as you discussed the violin.
“I think it’s best if you taught me how to play, I might have some knowledge on musical history, but that doesn’t mean I know anything about the instruments themselves.” You had conceded.
He shook his head at that, “Nonsense. If there is anyone I know that could pick up skills like this quickly, it would be you.”
“What makes you think that?” You had laughed.
“Because, you’re amazing. Talented, with passion that could take on the world. You and my daughter have more in common than you think. A drive that I wish I had.”
That had stopped your train of thought, your cheeks heating once more. Most times you would try to brush off his comments, and continue on to the next subject, even if those words made it hard for you to fall asleep that same night.
But this time, you let his words linger in the air between you. The faint glow from the candles illuminating his face, his angelic features intensifying. 
It was your turn to make a move, you couldn’t let him have all the fun.
Slowly, your hand traveled across the table, until your fingers grazed his own. Lucifer never pulled back, instead, he accepted your advance. Lacing his fingers with your own.
The two of you didn’t speak, you didn’t need to. The day could be filled with laughter and quick-wits. But, the night? That belonged to your silent bouts of affection.
Just two pairs of eyes staring out through the large open bay windows, the flickering lights from the city your own little TV. 
What was he thinking about? You had wondered. You were aware of the divorce of his wife years ago, and the fracture of his family still weighed on him. Even if his relationship with Charlie was improving the day. Did he blame himself for his family splitting? 
You had never pried him on such things, there was no reason to bring him more pain. He’d open up about it when he was ready, he always did.
Was that why he was slow to actually ask for your kindness? Your care? 
Your love? 
He was a showman, with a drive to impress strangers around him, to win them over with his charm and flare. But you weren’t a stranger, not anymore. 
There was this tiny parasite that gnawed at the back of your mind, whispering such horrid things of him leaving you if you made the first move. 
‘His pride is too great to let him be swooned completely by a lower demon,’ it hissed, ‘He just wants something casual, nothing truly real,’
Was that true? Would he reject you and move on? Surely, there were much stronger, much smarter demons than you in Hell that he could choose. 
Maybe, you’d just have to grow a backbone and ask him. 
‘Soon’, you promised.
The calming scent that wafted from the candles around the room pulled you away from such thoughts. Instead, you used your free hand to lift the wine glass to your lips, downing the remaining liquor. Your body blooming with warmth as it traveled down your throat, and your head turning fuzzy with bliss. 
A gentle thump as KeeKee landed on the counter pulled you back to reality. You finished washing your face, and placed it into the cool embrace of the small towel in your hands.
Turning away from the sink, you walked back into the main room. KeeKee trailed you as you rummaged through your dresser, plucking out items of clothing as you began to change for the day. 
“Come, KeeKee,” You called, clicking your tongue at her as you strided to the doorway of your room. 
She responded with a chirp and raced past you, out into the hallway. You watched her scurry down the stairs as you headed for the lobby. You were supposed to finish the season of RuGaul’s Drag Race this morning with Angel Dust, and honestly, it was a pretty good show.
Unfortunately, the raised bump in the carpet right in front of your foot had other plans.
“Fuck!” You hissed as you fell forward, your arms instinctually raising to catch your fall.
You hit the ground with an oomph. Luckily, you caught yourself in time to not face any serious injury. Except the sting of your pride. You lay there defeated for a moment, the ache in your arms subsiding slowly.
“Well, hello down there, my friend!” Came a familiar call, static trickling from their voice.
 “Hello, Alastor.” You greeted the Radio Demon with a painful sigh. 
“It appears you’ve gotten yourself into a bit of a pickle, hm? Let me help you with that.” 
Black tendrils gathered around you, they were unnaturally cold and you squirmed against their touch. 
They tightened around you and lifted you up, up, and up until the soles of your feet were steady on the ground. They flowed off of you, disappearing like a shadow into Alastor’s form.
“Thank you, Alastor. That was very kind of you,” you spoke as you brushed dust off your clothes. You’d need to talk to Nifty about coming to your side of the building more often to clean. 
“It was no problem, my friend. I could not just sit by and allow you to take such an attitude from that silly carpet.” 
Alastor snapped his fingers, and the tiny lump in the carpet that had delivered the tripping blow vanished. Leaving behind a nice, smooth surface.
His head snapped back up to you, that large smile still plastered on his face. You were about to open your mouth again when his gaze landed on something behind you, past the railing.
“Ah, I see you have finished another one of your paintings! What a wonderful piece this is, yes, truly remarkable!” 
He walked forward, and placed one hand on the railing. On the opposite side of the room, at eye level to the second floor, was a painting depicting a very large, glittering lake. A tall forest surrounded it, with massive snowy mountains as the backdrop. 
Small winged-angels sat near the waters, feasting on grapes and wine as they enjoyed the summer sun. Some stood near white-freckled fawns as they fed them fruits and nuts, their faces lit in joyful smiles. 
“Yes, it took me forever. Water is a pain to get perfect. Do you.. think it fits?” 
“Of course it does, my dear!” His enthusiastic voice not missing a beat, “I think Charlie choosing you for this job was a marvelous choice! You must have taken much inspiration from some of the classic artists.. Perhaps Edgar Payne?”
A look of surprise crossed your face. He knew about the famous western landscape artist? Alastor didn’t seem like a fine arts kind of man to you.
“I used some of his techniques, yes. I didn’t know you had such knowledge, Alastor.” You responded, a hint of questioning in your tone. Prompting him to speak more about the subject. 
Alastor waved his hand in the air in a brushing motion, as if it was no big deal.
“Oh, here and there. When I was alive hosting my radio show I once toured an art gallery for an advertisement. His pieces were on display, and I suppose his work has been imprinted in my mind ever since.”
“That’s very interesting, actually. I shouldn’t be surprised though, you seem to be in favor of many classic mediums.” 
“Mm, yes. I just can’t stand the way modern society has seemed to falter from its most creative forms. I’m sure soon they’ll just start paying robots up there to make art for them.”
You doubted that, people using robots to make art? What was the point of it if not created by the human hand?
It was then you caught his eyes darting to something behind you, towards the staircase. Did his eye just twitch?
Alastor’s toothy grin widened further, which you thought couldn’t be possible. Before you could turn around and get a look at whatever had captured his attention, his gaze landed back on you.
He quickly sidled much closer to you, and placed his free hand on your shoulder. Your eyes widened at the touch, he’d never been brazen like this before. Let alone being this close to you. 
Suddenly, he let out a loud, boisterous laugh at nothing particular. His head slightly shook from side to side like he just heard the funniest story in his life, which made you lean back slightly at his very odd actions.
“Oh, my dear, you are such a charm. Truly. I always enjoy our little talks about your ideas. You are so very passionate about your work.” 
Your eyebrows raised in suspicion at his behavior. What was this man up to? 
“We should definitely continue our talks sometime, perhaps, in the comfort of your study?” He questioned, placing his other hand on your shoulder, “Maybe, you could even teach me some of that history you have trapped in your noggin, mmm what was that era called.. the Renaissance?”
Your mouth parted slightly as you contemplated his words. He wanted to learn from you? You had never graced anyone with your teachings other than Lucifer, and you kind of liked it that way.
“Well.. I don’t know if-”
“Ahem.” Came a familiar, male voice from behind the two of you. 
Your words caught in your throat. Uh oh.
You watched Alastor’s grin deepen into a knowing smirk. His eyes snapping to the figure behind you, eyebrows raised. 
You pivoted, seeing the familiar pale face staring intensely at you, practically into your soul. You tried to smile at him, your teeth clenched painfully as you stood besides Alastor. His hand still on your shoulder. 
You tried to speak through your eyes, desperately trying to tell him this was not something you had asked for. You weren’t sure whether he could read it.
Lucifer’s gaze diverted to the hand on your shoulder, and you could feel a crackle of scorching hot energy in the air around you.
“Why, hello there, your majesty.” Alastor greeted him with mock enthusiasm. 
“What a surprise to see you here,” Lucifer responded, a slight growl in his voice. He straightened his back, leaning slightly forward on his staff, as though the scene before him was not a bother. He was terrible at hiding it though. 
“Indeed. My dear friend and I were just discussing their paintings, aren’t they a wonder?”
“Of course they are.” Lucifer responded. 
“We have such good conversations, you know, about their vast knowledge on the subject. It makes me envious really.” 
He released your shoulder from his grasp, and you scooted an inch away from him. 
“Perhaps, one day, you would care to join us? But I'm sure their line of work isn’t something you are interested in, hm?” Alastor’s words left his lips, and Lucifer’s teeth bared at that.
Alastor’s smile intensified as his own energy filled the room, an invisible dual of power was beginning to emerge between the two demons. It reminded you of what happened when Lucifer had arrived at the hotel for the first time, when they had fought for the position as Charlie’s father figure. 
Alastor wasn’t an idiot though, Lucifer could eradicate him at any moment. Was just simply irritating the fallen angel his only motivation?
Was Alastor’s initial conversation with you just to pull the strings of what was happening now? Did he know Lucifer was coming to see you? That sly asshole.
Alastor turned away from Lucifer’s glare, and met your gaze.
“How is that radio doing that I gave you? I hope you’ve been putting it to good use, I was trying my hardest to
think of the perfect gift for you, and I just knew that you would be interested in it.” 
“It was.. nice, thank you.. Alastor.” You responded, afraid what would happen if you ignored his question. 
“My pleasure, dear friend. We’ve been through thick and thin, you and I. It’s only right I share with you a piece of my.. admiration towards you.”
Admiration? 
Lucifer stalked up to the two of you, staring daggers in Alastor’s back. Clearing his throat, he let out a dark chuckle.
“I’m sure your little relationship is over-exaggerated,” He said, his tone passive aggressive, “I’ve hardly seen you in the same room together, let alone have such meaningful conversations.”
“But, of course we do! I was there the first day they walked through those doors. I was the one that welcomed them to their new home, and it was I who furnished their room in the first place. Seeing as barely anything has been changed or moved around, it is safe to say our connection is much deeper than you may think.”
You heard Lucifer growl again. His eyes flickering to a shade of red.
“Well, it’s too bad your gift is useless now.” Lucifer hissed, “They have an instrument of their own, which I have provided them.”
Alastor’s ear twitched at that, and he turned to you in mock fascination. 
“Oh, an instrument? Did you know I used to play in a band?” He turned to you, his questions armed with ill intentions, “I would love nothing more than to give you a lesson or two!”
“I am going to teach them, actually.” Lucifer snapped, “I couldn’t imagine the terrible noises that would come from you plucking strings like a tone-deaf banshee.”
Alastor laughed at that before reaching out and grabbing your hand. You had the growing itch to rip it away, but his stare whispered dark things, and you relented. Allowing him to grip your wrist loosely.
“Well, this has been fun, and I would like to continue our talks,” He addressed you, “But I have important business to attend to within the hotel, as your faithful hotelier. Perhaps, later tonight?” 
Your smile faltered for a second, giving him a slight glare. You weren't going to let him think you were falling for his games.
“Such a shame you have so much attention on you from so many others, those demons on the streets really look at you with such enamoration. My word, just practically begging for your attention! If only you would share all your ideas and knowledge with just me, you’d know how fantastic of a listener I am.”
“Others?” Lucifer asked incredulously.
Alastor ignored him, instead, he did something that you never expected.
He gingerly pulled your hand closer to his face, before leaning down slightly and placing a quick peck to your knuckles. You gasped, placing a hand over your mouth to cease it quickly. 
It was meaningless, you could tell. An act to simply further spur on Lucifer’s rage. 
“Why you pompous little fucking-!” Lucifer roared, but was cut off by Alastor’s maniacal fit of giggles.
Suddenly, the red demon evaporated into a large green cloud of smoke. A gust of freezing wind rushed you as he vanished. Behind you, Lucifer’s large hat was carried with the gust of wind, and he was left practically frothing at the mouth, his hair disheveled from the wind. His eyes still a dark sickly-red. 
You strode up to him, placing a hand on his arm. Trying to get him to look at you. 
“I promise you, we were not talking genuinely just then, Lucifer.” 
“Do you have conversations with that creep when i’m not around? Have you been telling him the same things you’ve shared with me?” 
You rolled your eyes, letting out a breath of hot air. 
“Don’t be ridiculous, he’s just getting under your skin. I’ve barely spoken with him.”
“What did he mean by ‘others’? You have suitors that i’m not aware of?”
You leaned back, confusion spreading across your face. Was Lucifer.. jealous? Was the thought of other demons trying to get intimate with you.. bothering him?
“What? Well, I don’t know, maybe. It’s not like I-”
“It’s me who knows almost everything about you. I’m the King of Hell, what can anyone offer you that I can’t?”
What was this? He’s never spoken a word about courting you, which is why your feelings towards his affection were mixed. But now, he wants to? 
“And here I thought I could make it to the overlord meeting in time,” He growled. Before his gaze was renewed with fresh determination.
He grabbed your hand, pulling you closer, and snapped his fingers. 
Before you could blink, the area around you melted and transformed into a beautiful restaurant. You were sitting at an oak table, candles lit around you. A wine glass in front of you.
Lucifer materialized at the seat across from you in a very tight, clean black tuxedo with a red bow tie around his neck.
He gave you a playful smirk, before another figure strode to your table. You looked up, and saw.. Lucifer? Again? This time in a classic waiter outfit, an apron tied around his waist. He held a plate of food in one hand, before setting it down before you. 
“You’re favorite dish, catered by yours truly.” Waiter Lucifer spoke confidently.
You looked down at the foodstuff on the plate, your mouth watering. It really was your favorite dish. You reached out to grab it, before you were thrusted into darkness again.
Where were you now?! 
You were sitting on a very comfortable cushioned chair, and as you whipped your head around, noticed that there were rows and rows of the same kind of chairs. 
“What the hell is going on?!” You yelled to the scene, but received no answer. 
Placed in them were more.. Lucifers? They all whooped and cheered, clapping at whatever was in front of you. You turned your head, taking in the sight before you.
It was a lit stage. The curtain was closed, so you were unable to see what was on it. Suddenly, the curtain lifted, and there was Lucifer again, he held a Violin, similar to the one he gave you, but this time in pure gold.
He looked at you before gliding the bow across its strings, the echoes of its chords filling the room. You perked, recognizing its tune.
It was ‘Innsbruck, I must leave thee’! The same one he had asked you about when you caught him humming that one time.
Did he learn it… just for you? Your heart fluttered. Was this grandiose display just him trying to prove that he cared about you and your interests?
It continued for a moment longer, the strings on his instrument singing with raw power. It was a beautiful sound, and for a moment you were lost in it. Emotions from your past bubbling inside of you.
And then, he let go of the violin and it began playing on its own. It floated in the air gracefully as its tune continued. He leapt off the stage and landed right in front of your seat. He extended his hand, waiting for you to take it. 
You hesitated for a moment, unsure of where you would be taken next.
“Luci..” You said, giving him a questioning look.
He only smirked at you, his eyebrows raised playfully. You shook your head, a smile blooming on your face at his theatrics, and laced your fingers with his. 
Instead of being thrown into darkness like before, gold flashed around you as he teleported you somewhere distant.
This time, you were on the roof of a very tall building, you shook your head to rid yourself of the dizziness before taking in the sights around you.
You were in Pentagram city, Heaven high above you, it’s white glow helping to light the rooftop like a stage.
Your hand was still gripping his, and he did not pull away. Neither did you. 
Suddenly, a tune began once more. Unfamiliar this
time, and you twisted your head to find where it was coming from, but to no avail. It seemed to be emanating from the entire space around you.
Was there a faint musical number playing in the background, or was that just your imagination?
Lucifer pulled you closer, his classic red and white hats by vest clung to his frame. His hat and overcoat nowhere in sight.
“Lucifer, what are you…” You trailed off, right as he opened his mouth and started to.. sing.
With treasures untold and riches divine,
I offer you the world, to make you mine.
His voice was like velvet, that boisterous playful demeanor apparent as he circled you around, you turned with him, never releasing his hand. He continued, his eyes never straying from you as he sang.
I can offer you kingdoms, castles of gold,
Mountains of riches, for you to behold,
Diamonds that shimmer, like stars in the night,
With every breath, with every sigh,
I’ll lavish you with riches, until the end of time.
His singing ceased, and you were rushed back into reality. You looked at him in awe, enamored by that pretty voice of his. It was ethereal, just like God has designed him to be.
You stood there for a second, eyes fixed on Lucifer’s hand as it entwined with yours. Your gaze traveling to those big, beautiful golden eyes that practically begged for your response. 
In that moment, as the sun above illuminated his pretty face and his shining hair flowing in the gentle breeze, you realized how much you adored- no, loved this man. 
Summoning all of your willpower, you answered. Your lips parted as your tongue began to form words of your own design. You didn’t call up any lyrics from pieces of past design. These words needed to be yours. Needed to say everything you desired and more. 
I don’t want your magic,
I don’t want your gold,
I want your eyes on me,
Until we grow old, 
The words left your lips, soft and buttery, as your confession rang through the air. You desperately hoped your voice didn’t sound like nails against a chalkboard, that it held some resemblance to his own angelic vocals. 
His eyes widened for a moment, before they softened. A sparkle shining in them that wasn’t there before. 
A genuine, heart-melting smile crossed his face as he listened to your words flowing from your tongue so gracefully, like water cascading from the Fountain of Youth.
You took his other hand, pulling him backwards, as you danced across the narrow rooftop, like ballerinas, your footsteps synced and graceful. 
Suddenly, he turned you towards the edge, your heels mere inches from the ledge of the roof. For a moment, you felt like you’d slip and plunge into the depths, but those eyes of his held you steady in your mind.
Until his wings appeared behind him, beating softly, giving you air as he spun you slightly off the rooftop. A pulse of warm energy hit you, and your legs lifted out from under you. Like you were Jane with your Peter Pan, and his magic fairy dust was going to send you gliding off to Neverland.
For a moment, you felt like you had wings of your own. That feeling of absolute freedom, unchained from the ground as you floated for a moment before Lucifer pulled you back to reality.
Your feet hit the rooftop once more and you were breathlessly aware of your heart beating in your throat. Your gaze snapped back to Lucifer once more, and you felt one of his hands lowering to your hip, the other still entwined with yours.
Lucifer leaned forward, and you with him.  Your back curved into an arch as he leaned above you, your lips inches from brushing against each other. You felt like exploding, those butterflies fluttering wildly in your stomach threatening to burst.
Both your mouths opened at once, and your words entwined with his as your lips moved once more.
Your caring touch abundantly clear,
It’s all i’ve ever known,
With you my dear, 
I surely fear,
My heart will never be my own.
As your song ended, you felt your heart and mind clear instantly as your truth had finally been told. The look of pure adoration in his eyes was enough to have you trembling under his touch. 
Lucifer pulled you back onto your feet, his breathing heavy and the feathers on his wings ruffled. 
With both hands on your hips, you reached forward and cupped his face. Heat spread across your body as your fingers grazed across the small wisps of hair that curled around his ears.
“Darling, I-”
Before you could let him finish his sentence, you squeezed your eyes shut, and planted your lips against his. He froze for a moment, his breath hitching, before his hands around your waist tightened and he deepened the kiss.
You moved your hands from his face and instead wrapped your arms around his neck, grasping at his shirt collar with hungry desire.
His scent washed over you, and you drank it in with desperation. A sweet, crisp dose of apple cinnamon mixed with faint traces of roses. You thanked Heaven in that moment, for releasing them from their grasp, and right into your arms down here in Hell. 
Your knees hit the ground the same time as Lucifer’s, and you felt the soft touch of his wings as they wrapped around you. Blanketing the two of you from the prying eyes of all the realms. 
He pressed his face harder into yours as he cupped the small of your back. His teeth grazed the bottom of your lip, and you parted your mouth slightly, locking the two of you together even more intensely. 
His lips left yours, and he planted feverish pecks across your cheek all the way to your earlobe. He bit tenderly on it, and you had to squeeze your lips together to stop from whimpering. He continued, trailing down your neck with hungry kisses, before burrowing his face into your shoulder blade.
You felt his teeth graze the artery in your neck, and you gasped, grasping at his hair desperately as pleasure coursed through your veins. His breath hot against your skin, tickling it.
“Fuck,” You moaned, and his response was to push you farther into bliss as he suckled on your neck. Waves of pleasure hit you once more, and you began to sloppily kiss the top of his shoulder, slightly exposed from your roughhousing.
Lucifer tightened his grip around you, pulling you as flush to his body as he could manage. You both sat there on your knees in a mix of breathless gasps and hums of pleasure.
You did not want this moment to end. Finally, the both of you had opened yourselves up to your true feelings. You smiled at the thought, and planted a kiss on his earlobe as he lifted his head slightly from your neck.
Suddenly, the watch on Lucifer’s wrist buzzed violently, and you heard him curse under his breath.
“Is that for your meeting?” Your voice came out in a hoarse whisper.
“Unfortunately,” He grumbled, before switching off the noise. He didn’t move from his position though, and you realized he was going to try and skip out on it.
“You should go.” You spoke, almost a command.
“Why? They’ve been fine without me for this long.”
“You’re the king,” You retorted, meeting his gaze sternly, “Go do your job, i’m not going anywhere.” 
His look of distraught at having to depart sent another wave of butterflies into your body. You couldn’t help but smile before giving him another quick peck on the lips.
“Go.”
“Fine.” 
You both stood up, and his wings uncurled around your body, disappearing into his back. His fingers still with yours, as he reached down for his hat that lay on the ground beside you. You released his grip and fixed his bow tie. Pulling his overcoat back neatly onto his frame, and adjusting it slightly. 
You wiped the sweat off his forehead and smoothed down his hair. Attempting to tidy him up as quickly as you could so he wouldn’t be late. He smiled warmly as you fussed over him.
“Now, if you don’t mind,” You spoke softly, batting your eyelashes at him, “I need a way off this roof.”
He smirked, before grasping his staff and tapping it against the ground. 
A flurry of gold wafted around you, and that same energy tickled at the back of your neck just like it did at the art studio. His face blurring from the cascading waves of warm light that wrapped around you.
“See you soon, My Love,” His voice echoed as your eyes shut and you felt that pull of energy. That feeling of floating on thin air hit you again, as you were warped away. 
“There you are!” Angel dust threw his arms in the air in exasperation a few feet away from you, as the particles of gold that floated above you disintegrated. You blinked a few times, letting your eyes adjust to the lights in the lobby. 
“Where were you this morning? I had to watch the final episode all by myself!”
Shit. That’s right. You placed a hand on your forehead, berating yourself silently for forgetting. Although you weren’t too regretful about missing out on it for Lucifer.
“I’m so sorry, Angel. I just got.. busy, I guess.”
He shrugged, brushing off his slight irritation. 
“It’s alright, ain’t nobody hurt from it.”
He was going to turn away, towards the bar where Husk was readying drinks for the two of them, before his gaze narrowed in somewhere on your figure.
“Wait, what the fuck is on your neck?” He asked suddenly, his eyes giving you a questioning stare, as he motioned towards it.
You looked at him confused, before reaching up and running a few fingers down the side of your throat. Your eyes flew wide open in surprise, and your hand cupped your mouth as you felt it. Your cheeks set on fire instantly.
Apparently, as a final gift, Lucifer had left a rather large hickey in the crook of your neck. Both Husk and Angel leaned in to get a better look at it, their eyes widening in surprise. 
“That dickhead finally did it, huh?” Husk spoke up, a knowing smirk on his lips as he cleaned glasses behind the bar.
Angel’s eyes lit up in delight, and he squeezed his own cheeks as realization dawned on him.
“Fucking finally! Does that mean you two are a thing now?”
You contemplated for a moment, before meeting Angel’s gaze once more. A smirk growing on your lips. 
KeeKee appeared at your feet, rubbing at your ankles in greeting. You gingerly reached down and picked her up. She was so soft to the touch, and you caught the faint scent of Lucifer once more as she nestled into your chest.
“I guess so,” You finally replied once you situated the cat into your arms, “Now if you excuse me, gentleman, I need a breather.” 
Angel whistled flirtatiously behind you as you walked away, and you couldn’t help the growing heat that hit your cheeks once more.
——
a/n: let me know your thoughts!! i almost didn’t added the little singing bit but i cracked my knuckles and summoned the lyricist in me to have some fun. I mean, it can’t be Hazbin Hotel without a song right?
tag list: @ohnoivefallen @doodlebob2726 @coleisyn @loslox
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assassinsblade · 4 months
Text
Forget Me Not | 4
You confuse healing with hurting others; Azriel's ready to let you hurt him anyway.
WC: 3.5k
Warnings: TW: SA!!! Please do not read if this is triggering for you. Angst, feelings, my poor boy Azriel is sad.
a/n: I'm so thankful for all the support and kind comments for this story! There will still be at least 2 more parts. Sorry for this one being a bit shorter.
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 5
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Azriel hadn't interacted with you much since lending you his dagger.
He was always there, sure, but he seemed to be letting you lead wherever your friendship would go. He did not try to force you into speaking with him or being around him, but you did notice his nervous energy when you were around.
When you'd pass him in the House of Wind, run into one another in the library, or sit across from each other at dinner, you couldn't help but study how he'd changed. While he had been quiet before, he had always held a certain peaceful arrogance about him. Now, his silence seemed more insecure and anxious, as if he was not quite sure of himself in his own place of residence.
You hadn't had anyone stay the night with you since that night with Azriel either.
You noticed that he kept his bedroom light on every night, though. You weren't sure if he did this to pretend he was still awake, so you'd be less embarrassed if you needed to wake him, or if he did this to reassure you someone was aware and ready in the house during a time of the night you felt more vulnerable. Either way, you tried not to let it effect you too much.
Some nights when noticing the change between Azriel and yourself got too much, you would cry until your eyes became swollen and burned with exhaustion, finally allowing you to fall asleep. Other nights, every noise in the house caused your anxiety to skyrocket, and you found yourself heading to the library to read as a distraction, knowing you would have to try to rest the following night instead.
Nightmares came every now and then. You had mentioned this to Rhys, assuming that he might have experienced something similar with how much he had gone through, and he suggested a sleeping tonic from Madja. You took it nightly, and it seemed to help the majority of the time.
It had been two months since that night, and while your progress was no where near finished, and your trauma would forever be a part of you, you felt less fragile than you did in those previous weeks. You had started showing up to group events again with the whole inner circle, laughing had become more of a consistent part of your days with the help of Cassian and Mor, and the House had even helped prepare food you could keep down until your appetite was back to normal.
The only thing that didn't seem to be getting any better was your relationship with Azriel.
He tried to help in his own way. He left books out in inconspicuous locations that he thought you would like. There would be a box of your favorite pastries on the kitchen counter in the morning, as if anyone else in the household liked their tart flavor. Sometimes you would even notice shadows slinking into your room at night, tugging at the window locks and blinds to ensure everything was secure.
And you knew he wasn’t trying to be noticeable with these things. In fact, it seemed like he was doing everything in his power to not draw attention to himself. He would instead scan through the pages of the books to see if you had made any notes, check the pastry boxes to make sure you had eaten something, or have his shadows close the window when the cold air was beginning to wake you up.
The fact that it all helped only made you angrier.
The inner circle noticed your frustration around the shadowsinger as well, especially during Winter Solstice celebrations.
You had felt good enough to join the rest of the group at the River House, but it was obvious enough how tense things were between you and Azriel:
Friends exchanged gifts, hugs, and laughter, but Azriel kept to himself the entirety of the night, only occasionally sending one of his family members a small smile or taking a sip of his drink.
He had gotten everyone very thoughtful gifts, and he seemed genuinely touched at the presents he received in return. You tried not to flinch at the gardening book he had gotten Elain or the decorated sheath she had gotten him for one of his daggers.
Azriel and Elain didn't speak much that night though, as much as you tried not to notice. You really did try not to notice Azriel so much, but it was as if your gaze was being pulled to him by some unknown force, demanding that you acknowledge that he was here, close to your side, his attention all on you.
And you felt that attention more than ever when Feyre handed you a box wrapped in midnight blue, the wrapping paper glinting from where you sat by the fire.
Swallowing, you refused to look up at Azriel, knowing it would only make the feeling in your stomach worse.
You heard Rhys making conversation in the background, trying to ease the tension and take some attention away from yours and Azriel's exchange.
The shadowsinger also tried to give you privacy, chiming in here and there to add to Rhys’ conversation, but you still felt his eyes keep moving to you.
Fingers fumbled with unwrapping and pulling apart the box before finally revealing what lay beneath.
Underneath a layer of tissue paper sat a delicate piece of glass about the size of a piece of paper. It was transparent, but somehow held some light and color at certain angles, adding a sort of whimsical iridescence to it. It was stunning, and your careful fingers felt unworthy of holding such an awe-inspiring thing. Your only problem was you had no idea what it actually was.
Azriel cleared his throat, and you couldn't stop your eyes from floating to his.
"It's a translator." He fidgeted from the chair he sat in. "From the Day Court. If you place it on a page of writing, it will translate the text to whatever language you request. I thought you might want to expand some of the books you have access to."
Your heart pounded in your chest. He knew you loved reading. He knew you loved studying. He knew you and had gotten you a gift that made you so excited you had to actively scold yourself to loosen your grip on the glass.
His hazel eyes were filled with so much emotion as he tried to gauge your reaction, you felt something physically crack in your chest.
You tried to will your tears down.
"Thank you," you whispered, unable to make your voice louder. Azriel accepted it all the same, giving you a small nod before clasping his hands together and averting his gaze back to Rhys.
You hadn't gotten anything for Azriel.
You didn't have much to give him anymore. He knew that, despite the sadness that surrounded him that night.
Maybe it was because you would have gotten him a solstice gift before. Not only would you have picked something out months in advance, you would have teased him about it, gone giddy with excitement over the surprise.
After what happened, there hadn’t been a gift in that pile addressed to him from you, and it only served to show the damage that had been done to your friendship.
You tried not to let what he had done damage you further, continuing to build up your walls both physically and emotionally.
Cassian’s training was great for the body and mind, and you put all of your focus into that.
Training had allowed for you to channel some of the agony harbored in your chest into exercise. Every night around 9pm you would meet the general up in the training ring, going over anything from conditioning and weight lifting to actual battle tactics like sword training and hand-to-hand combat.
You knew that Azriel normally came up to train late at night, but it seemed like he pushed his time later in order to give Cassian and you some privacy. You tried not to think about how little of sleep he must be getting if he wasn't coming up to train until midnight. It wasn't your problem.
At first, you were scared both intrusive thoughts and your body's memory would hinder your sessions. You had been hesitant and nervous, but Cassian had quickly made you feel at ease. You knew he had trained Gwyn, and Cassian was a trusted friend, so you shouldn't have been surprised when the sessions went swimmingly.
Cassian was such a steady presence, someone you knew you could always rely on. He made sure to check in on you every night, casually asking questions that seemed nonchalant enough to not be overbearing or annoying while still showing he cared. That didn't stop him from overstepping at times though.
Hours ago, Cassian had been sparring with you in the training ring, his steps circling your own and hands raised ready to strike. You had followed his movements, trying to remember everything you had been taught while silencing outside noises.
You weren't sure if he had said it to get under your skin, to win the upper hand, or if it was something he had actually been pondering for a while.
When you had taken a step as if to attack, Cassian had eyed the dagger in your hand — Azriel’s dagger —and had bluntly asked, "Do you think you'll ever forgive him?"
You had nearly stumbled in your stance.
The inner circle had been very careful to tiptoe around you and Azriel. They didn't ask about your relationship or where you stood, never tried to force interactions or situations upon the two of you, and you had gotten used to the peace of their feigned ignorance.
You had to shake off the shock of his question before it festered in your chest.
"What?" You had decided to ask instead, buying yourself some time to think.
You didn't know what you were doing with your body anymore, if you were still on physically guard, fighting, or if all of your energy was being put toward guarding your emotions.
"I'm not saying you should," Cassian had quickly amended. "But I am wondering where your head is at."
Only staring at him, your eyebrow arched in challenge. "Should it be somewhere specific?"
Cassian's sigh had been near silent in the large room, and the large warrior seemed to deflate at your answer. "No. Of course not."
"Good," you had only replied, voice hard and final. "Then let's keep going."
Cassian had gone right back to his teasing, difficult self, but he left not too long after that sparring round ended.
That had been hours ago, but you were still there, knives and daggers lined up, throwing them at the boards across from you. Each throw had you huffing, and with your strength depleting, your aim became further and further off through the night.
Your arms were sore and numb, both from throwing the weapons and from sparring with Cassian earlier. But it felt good, knowing your muscles were being used, knowing you were growing stronger, more powerful and less vulnerable.
Sleep should have found you about an hour ago, but you knew you wouldn't be able to get any tonight. Cassian's words flowed nonstop through your head: Do you think you'll ever forgive him?
I don't know Cassian, do you think he'll ever stop being such a fuck-up?
The question made you angry, because this situation was never about him, and you didn't owe Azriel anything.
You knew Azriel was Cassian's brother. You knew everyone wanted your family to be whole again, to stop seeing each other hurting. But you were angry at the expectations placed on you by your friends to offer forgiveness, you were angry at Azriel for being too late in every area of your life, and you were angry at yourself for missing him.
Gods, you wanted to scream, to thrash, to hit yourself until you could force yourself into just minutes of peaceful rest.
Do you think you'll ever forgive him?
Do you think he deserves forgiveness?
You paused, breathing heavily as you thought over your own words and reaction. You knew he was trying, but you also knew some things didn't change. And some people weren't worth getting hurt over again.
Before you could pull the dagger in your hand back and launch it forward toward the wooden board, you noticed the shift in the air.
Shadows danced along the floors, curling and floating around training equipment.
You knew Azriel moved back the time he would come up here to train independently so that you and Cassian could have privacy. You knew that you were technically the one infringing on his claimed time and peace now. That didn't stop the wave of frustration that rolled over you, though.
Azriel's presence mimicked that same wave shoving you under. You were sick of it. Sick of feeling like you couldn't breathe, like you couldn't fight back, like every single inch of your body wouldn't listen to you anymore. You were sick and tired of feeling worthless, like you would never be loved, like you would never be someone's priority. And you were so fucking tired of being sad.
Fire burned within your veins, but it wasn't because of shame or hurt. You were angry again. You had deserved better, and you had gotten left in the dust like a piece of trash. And he thought a pretty present could fix things? Could fix you?
As if the iridescent glass sheet could blur the memory of the male's tongue on your neck, the feeling of his fingers touching where they shouldn't, translating the history written on your body into something more pleasant, more beautiful, like a tale of a hero rescuing the dame and whisking her off to safety.
Before you knew what you were doing, you took the dagger Azriel had lent you and turned with a speed and strength you had never aimed at another person, heaving out a noise of frustration and sending the weapon flying toward Azriel's form just inside the doorway.
You saw red. The red of the male's blood in the alleywall, the red of your own blood, the red of Azriel's blood now beading along his bicep, the red of pure unfiltered rage.
"You are a piece of shit, Azriel. A fucking selfish, cruel, shallow bastard. Do you know that?"
Your chest heaved as you tried to control yourself, your fingers already itching for another weapon. It wasn't enough to see you had nicked his skin. You wanted him to fight back, you wanted to hurt him as badly as he had hurt you.
"Is that why you go after damaged females? In an attempt to find something redeemable about yourself? To act like the hero, like some sort of protector?"
He flinched at the words but otherwise remained unmoving. You hated him for it.
"You're no hero. You're a joke."
You watched as the blow landed, and a wave of adrenaline rushed over you. You deserved this. You had been bleeding for months, crawling up the well of your depression until your fingertips were raw and worn, and these attacks against him felt like a hand reaching down from the heavens, like an extra surge of energy to keep yourself going. You didn't want to be the one bleeding, it was someone else's time to bleed for once.
A step toward him, but he didn't move.
"Do you know what the priestesses tell me?"
He blinked, swallowing harshly.
"They say it's not my fault, what happened to me." You shrugged, letting out a bitter chuckle. "I guess they are partially right. Because it's your fault too. And the male's. But I'm not completely blameless here. I mean what in the Cauldron's name was I thinking, putting my trust in you?"
That got him. Eyes squeezed shut suddenly, eyebrows furrowing as if he had actually been stabbed. Good.
"After all," you continued, beginning to pace around the training area, languidly taking small steps as if you were telling your own tale. "How many of those close to you have you let down before? Mor, Rhys, Gwyn, Elain, your mother... I really should have expected to get hurt because of you."
You could see wetness on his cheeks, but you still did not back down. And he did not move from his spot, his hazel eyes not even hardening at the onslaught.
You'd just have to go harder.
"Sometimes in my nightmares, your hands are the ones hurting me in that alley. I can feel your scars as you pin me to the wall, as I'm violated." You let out a humorless laugh. "I think my mind keeps trying to tell me that's all you're good for: inflicting damage."
A drop of blood from his bicep fell to the floor in a perfect circle.
You stopped your pacing, only about fifteen feet in front of him, and dropped your hands to your side. With your head held tall, you looked him directly in his eyes, pausing to memorize the broken look of him.
His chest was hardly rising and falling. He stood completely and utterly still. Hazel eyes on your own, jaw clenched, cheeks wet.
He was a beautifully broken portrait. And you had just torn him to shreds.
Summoning the rest of your courage, you spit out the thought that had been tormenting you, curling its way around your heart until you felt it would be strangled.
A thought, and a promise.
"You may have thought me worthy of being forgotten, but I will make sure you never forget what you have done to me."
Breaking eye contact, you walked past him out of the training ring, refusing to turn back. If you thought you heard a wounded noise travel softly from his lips, you ignored it.
Maybe you were a bad person, maybe deep down you were a sadistic, cruel being, but saying those words finally lifted something from your chest. Air came easier, and some part of you felt vindicated after unleashing yourself, despite the shaking that immediately overcame you in your retreat.
You might have been confused. Your chest might have been swarming with overwhelming, conflicting emotions and adrenaline. You were filled with so much love and hate, so much yearning and anger, but you at least felt like you had a release, the swirling poison in your chest no longer sitting so close to your heart.
Do you think you'll ever forgive him?
It was cathartic. The sharp words, watching them pierce him down to his core, seeing as he cried over what you'd become. And for once, as you let the cool breeze wash over your overworked muscles, you felt tears build in your eyes not from sadness but from relief.
Like a fire burnt out, you dragged your weary body back to the House of Wind, barely making it to your bed before collapsing.
You imagined Azriel standing where you left him, bleeding from where you had slashed him. He hadn't even said a word — he had just let you tear him to pieces.
Was it his own way to punish himself? Was this about him all over again?
Do you think you'll ever forgive him?
Maybe if you knew what was coming in the days following, you would have said yes. Maybe you would have wanted to be around him more, to actually try, instead of pushing him away. Maybe you would have realized that you weren’t just punishing him but yourself as well.
But you didn’t know what was coming. So you pushed the image of his wounded expression, the way he had physically flinched at your words, away from your mind, closed your eyes, and went to sleep.
If you dreamt about his scarred hands scooping you up in that alleyway, bringing you close to his chest and keeping you safe, you'd never admit it.
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ceilidho · 5 months
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prompt: IKEA soap/reader fic. PART 3. (read 1, 2) tags: dubcon
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The Christmas party presents a whole new challenge in trying to ward Johnny off.
It’s hard because at first you almost gravitate towards him, weirdly enchanted by his ugly sweater with red reindeer on the sleeves. It’s only when he finally spots you—and you shudder when you notice the way his eyes scan across the crowd of other employees, seeking you out—and he practically lights up that you snap back to reality.
He blazes a path towards you like a heat seeking missile, dodging around your other coworkers. You stand there awkwardly as he cuts across the room, wondering if maybe you should’ve just texted your manager some excuse about feeling sick and stayed home. Too late now though. 
Fortunately for you, the assistant manager intercepts before Johnny’s able to make it halfway across the room, stepping between the two of you like they don’t even realize they’ve interrupted anything. There’s a split second where you can see Johnny wrestle with the urge to push them aside, fury clear in his eyes. Maybe only to you. The assistant manager opens their mouth and talks like nothing’s amiss, like it isn’t clear that Johnny is only a handful of seconds away from causing serious harm.
Then it passes; recedes into the dark. Johnny’s blue eyes go pellucid again, unbothered by the real world. The smile that spreads across his face seems sincere; if you hadn’t been watching him that entire time, you might not have even thought that he’d harboured any violence inside of him. 
You saw it though. You saw it.
It makes sense in the context of his background. You’d never given the ex-military thing much thought, but every so often you can almost feel the ghost of its presence in the back of your mind. When his reflexes kick in or the gleam in his eyes grows dark. He doesn’t ever talk about his past life in specifics, only grand overtures meant to distract anyone listening, but what he does reveal sometimes makes your stomach clench. 
You swallow and turn back to the conversation with your other coworkers, steadfastly avoiding Johnny’s eyes peeking over the assistant manager’s head. 
The breakroom is decked out in cheap Christmas decorations, a fiber-optic tree set up in the corner, iridescent bristles shifting colours with every blink. Someone passes you a vaguely alcoholic drink and you sip at it nervously, reaching the bottom of your first cup faster than you anticipated. 
Your secret Santa gift is on a table just outside the breakroom in the hall, along with all the other gifts. Something about it draws your eyes several times throughout the evening. Maybe something you saw but didn’t register. It’s hard to keep focused on the conversation happening around you when your attention oscillates between Johnny and the gift table, but you respond hastily when someone prompts you to answer. 
It comes to light when someone clinks a spoon against their glass and directs everyone to gather in the middle of the room. Two of the warehouse guys awkwardly try to bring the table into the room without knocking any of the gifts onto the floor. There are a few casualties, but when they manage to twist it enough to get it through the door, someone pulls up a chair to stand on and read off all of the names to hand out the gifts. 
Several people coo when you’re revealed as the recipient of Johnny’s gift. There’s no reason for it to come as a shock, but your stomach clenches anyway.
He stands practically right up against you when you open it. You know the second you unwrap it that the delicate bottle of perfume in your hands must have been in the three figures. All you did was get someone a handmade mug from a local craft fair. He stares at you when you unwrap it, beaming when you give him a very controlled thank you because the alternative is screaming that this is way too expensive for you to keep. 
“Ye should put it on,” he tells you, breathing just a little heavier. “Really want ta smell it on ye.”
You don’t know what possesses you to give it a spritz on your wrist, letting him guide your hand to dab it against the base of your throat. It’s intimate enough that his eyes follow the movement of your throat when you swallow, mouth going dry. They drag up to your lips when they part, a hesitant thanks hanging off your tongue.
“Jesus Christ, get a room already,” someone near you murmurs, but it doesn’t take long for their attention to slip off you as the next gift recipient is announced. Not Johnny though. 
Your mouth snaps shut.
He hovers at your back for the rest of the gift handouts, so close that you can feel the heat radiating off him. You flinch at his bitten off groans whenever you so much as fidget, rubbing against him. Shaking him off seems like a hopeless task until someone asks if you have a lozenge, giving you an excuse to take them to your locker. 
You can feel him stalking you like a shark around the breakroom when you chat with some of your other coworkers, the smile on your face becoming forced. 
“Did’ya know Johnny actually—oh, sorry, burped—he actually paid me…to get your name?” your coworker giggles, absolutely sloshed. You’re tipsy too, but her words make you go a bit cold.
“Pardon?” you ask. The red cup crackles when your fingers tighten around it.
“He paid me. Fifty dollars. Jus’ to get your name for the…for the stupid Santa thing. The secret Santa.”
You can feel the way your mouth hangs open, just a bit. Her words echo in your head, the conversation long over. You let her prattle on, still stuck on the thought of Johnny paying someone off just for the opportunity to give you a gift. The longer you stand there and chat with your coworkers, the more difficult it gets to look normal. 
“Isn’t that something?” she prompts, nudging you with an elbow. Even the slightest touch hits you like a battering ram. 
“Yeah,” you parrot back, “it’s something.”
Perhaps you’re overdue for a conversation with Johnny about boundaries. More than overdue. The package has been signed, sealed, and delivered. It was overdue months ago, the day you started working at the same store as him. By now, you should’ve quit or transferred, hell you should’ve yelled at him that one time he stopped you in the garden section to apply his own personal Chapstick to your lips (you don’t think about how you’d bitten them raw from staring across the row of potted flowers as he stacked bag after bag of fertilizer onto a customer’s pallet before pushing it to their car, his sleeves rolled up and thick biceps on display the whole time). 
Can anyone blame you for being confused? It’s obvious what he’s offering. He does nothing to hide it. It’s also obvious that it would be, unequivocally, a terrible idea to take him up on it. 
Maybe you just need some fresh air. You make an excuse and peel off from the rest of the group, heading for the door. Someone lurches out of the shadows in the corner before you can make it out. 
“Look, bonnie—mistletoe,” Johnny teases, not letting you so much as glance up before snatching you by the hips and reeling you into him. 
The kiss he plants on you is filthy and wet. Open-mouthed too so he can slip you his tongue, licking over the roof of your mouth. Sucking your bottom lip when you can’t help the whimper that slips out and he breaks away for only a split second to whisper oh fuck under his breath. Your mind reels when he dives back in for another kiss. He’s as good of a kisser as you might have expected, messy but forceful, threading a hand into your hair to hold you in place. The way he roots you in place licks at something delicious inside of you, a secret, buried urge.
Johnny finally pulls away when he can no longer convincingly ignore the way you push on his shoulders and squirm in his arms. His lips are wet when he pulls back, a thin strand of saliva clinging between your lips. It breaks when he runs his tongue across the wetness. 
Someone whistles and Johnny grins from ear to ear, bashful under the joy brimming out of him. You stumble away the second his hands loosen on your hips, wiping a hand across your mouth.
“Good for you, John!” someone shouts through cupped hands and several of your coworkers cackle. 
This time you actually manage to make it out the door and down the hall to the employee restroom. You spend the next few minutes washing your hands until your fingertips go pruney under the warm water and you try to think of anything except the texture of Johnny’s lips. 
You touch your lips no less than three times. Each time, your fingers come back trembling. It’s what you’d long expected from Johnny, from someone that looks like him, like the physical embodiment of ‘for a good time, call…’ written in lipstick on the back of a gas station bathroom door. 
The last thing you want to do is give him an inch, throw him a bone—actually lead him on, as your coworker might say. Still, your finger trembles on your lip. You know he’d make it good. Even if he didn’t, looking like that, who could blame you? The thought makes you wince, conscience of objectifying him, but haven’t you been subject to worse by now? You’re due far more than some measly peck for how many times he’s slapped your ass, stolen your scrunchie (two so far), or said something nasty to you.
It’s not hard to track him down when he’s always hovering nearby, this time just off by the watercooler with your manager and a few other coworkers. The hand not holding a drink is buried deep in his pocket, the smile on his face strained by a mask of politeness; you can tell at a glance that he’s only playing at civility, that he’d rather be anywhere else but chatting with his boss and colleagues at the office party.
When he spots you approaching the group of them, his eyes widen, excitement bleeding back into them. It takes your breath away.
“Ah, there’s your other half, Johnny,” your manager says and you freeze. 
“Aye, so she is. She’s a good little kisser, did’ye see?” Johnny gushes, pulling you in by the waistband of your pants. You’re a bit too tipsy to protest when he slips his hand around your waist. 
It clicks into place. When he pulls you into his side, it feels like slotting into a space made just for you, unwelcome or not. You don’t even notice if your other coworkers laugh or not, fixated on his eyes. He can hardly pull them away from you. Every long shift waking up on the sofa in the breakroom with Johnny standing over you, eyes glinting like a predator’s in the woods, and every coworker’s joke about being Johnny’s girl feels like it’s been leading to this. You have to know what it’d be like. 
“Um…Johnny?” you start, tugging on his shirt gently.
“Yeah, hen? What’s it?”
“Can we…um…do you wanna go somewhere more private?”
His breathing stops, body frozen against yours. “Ye serious, kitty? You’re not joking?”
You shake your head. “Just…just one time? Maybe?”
The first sign of movement from him is a full body shudder that nearly makes you step back. The frazzled look in his eyes borders on manic, flitting around the room looking for the nearest exit. Johnny tosses the group some hasty, poorly worded goodbye (you think he even flubs your manager’s name) and tears away from them, you still glued to his side. Someone giggles as you leave. You can’t pay them any mind though, not with how frantically Johnny pulls you out of the breakroom and down the hall, his long strides nearly making you trip over your feet.
“Johnny—slow down—”
“Hen, I’ll carry ye over my shoulder to the closet, I swear.”
He nearly barrels you over with how forcefully he pushes you into the closet, hot mouth latched onto the side of your throat. You hear the sound of the lock clicking behind him. The closet is swathed in darkness, only the barest hint of light bleeding through from underneath the doorway. It’s hardly enough for you to see anything in front of you, but that almost doesn’t matter with how Johnny curls around you, his body caging you in against the shelving behind you. 
“Please, please, fuck, I cannae believe it, fuck—” Johnny groans into your neck, a pathetic desperate sound that you’ve never heard from him before. He even keens a bit. “Oh Jesus, baby, I’ve been—dinnae if ye knew or not, but I’ve been fuckin’ obsessed with ye for ages, Christ.”
You let out a laugh in disbelief, embarrassed by how breathless it sounds. “I—oh—I f-figured.”
His hands drag up and down your back, tugging at the fabric of your shirt and practically ripping it out of where it’s been tucked into your pants. If you had buttons, you think you’d burst straight off, zip off the walls and roll under one of the shelves. Johnny’s eagerness bleeds through—months of barely concealed lust unravelling right in front of you, his hands practically shaking when they grope along your sides and under your breasts. His fingers dig almost painfully into your flesh until you whimper and he murmurs a broken apology into your neck.
“Wha’d’ye want, baby? I can—fuck, anything ye want, I promise—” Johnny begs, the sound almost pitiful. It makes your pussy ache.
“Your—your mouth—” 
The speed with which he drops to his knees almost makes you flinch. His kneecaps are only saved by the carpeted floor, present nowhere else in the employee section apart from the supply closets. His hands go to the zipper and button on your jeans, yanking viciously, almost snarling when they don’t immediately come undone. When you try to help him, he bares his teeth, more animalistic than you’ve ever seen him before.
“Do these fuckin’ pants even come off?” Johnny growls, giving another yank. You hear something rip and wince.
He manages to wrench your pants down until they pool around your ankles, only enough concentration left in him to pull one leg out and drape it over his shoulder. 
“Johnny—my underwear—holy shit—” you gasp when he mashes his face into the crotch of your panties, laving his tongue over the fabric. You can feel the heat of it through the gusset of your underwear, each desperate lick trying unsuccessfully to pull them to the side. 
“Fuck, s’ry, baby, I’ll take ‘em off,” he apologizes, voice muffled where his mouth is still pressed to your pussy. Reluctant to move even an inch away from you. 
It takes him a couple more seconds before he’s able to move away just long enough to pull your underwear down as well, struggling with getting it over the leg still draped over his shoulder and nearly losing his patience twice over. 
He takes to eating you out like something he’s done for years—naturally. Crudely. Eyes fluttering shut when he drags his tongue from your slit to your clit, unabashedly enjoying himself. His moans drag through you, making you nearly shake right out of your skin. His chin is already wet when you glance down. He spreads your inner lips with two fingers to open you fully to his gaze, lapping at your clit until he can hardly pull his mouth away from your cunt. 
Johnny drags one of your hands from his hair to cradle the side of his face, turning into your palm to take a deep inhale. His eyelashes flutter against his cheeks, eyes several degrees hotter when they meet yours through the curtain of his lashes.
“Fuckin’ smell like mine too,” he growls. You jolt at his words. He draws a finger into his mouth and gives it a suck, making you trill. 
“D-don’t get any ideas,” you gasp, other hand threading through his hair now, turnabout fair play. “S’just a—ah, ah—a one-time t-thing.”
“Aye, one time, one time,” he repeats. “Gonna make it so good f’r ye, baby.”
The two fingers spreading you open push against your entrance insistently. The initial stretch makes you tug at his hair, flushing when all that does is make him moan, mouth hung open sluttily. He looks even more strung out than you, eyes dark and heady. He’s also never looked more attractive.
Shelves jab into the small of your back, the ache growing the longer he keeps you like that with one leg slung over his shoulder, your knees almost buckling. Impossible to concentrate on the voice in your head screaming that this is a bad idea, not when he runs his tongue over your clit and sucks. Not when you’re forced to clamp a palm over your mouth to drown out your sounds. 
The press of a third finger into you makes you flinch and yank at his hair, harder this time. Hard enough for Johnny to back off, an apology muttered into your wetness. The two splitting you are more than enough, you think, a bit wildly. He shouldn’t be prepping you for anything more. There’s a furrow to his brows though, a bit of frustration wedged in there. Like putting up with your complaints annoys him just a bit.
“John—c’mon, please, not so loud,” you beg.
He pumps his fingers into you, eyes trained on the spot where they disappear. The look in his eyes borders on reverent. “Always mouthin’ off, huh? Even when I’m getting ye off? On my knees ‘n everything?”
“There are p-people outside,” you hiss, clamping your hand back down over your mouth when he curls his fingers and presses up into you. 
“Yeah?” The question sounds rhetorically, almost a challenge. The smile on his lips goes wicked sharp. “God, we wouldnae want ‘em ta hear, huh? What ye pulled me away from the party for?”
You don’t know why that’s what sets you off, but it does, eyes watering with the force of your orgasm. Back arched. Your head aches from where you knocked it back into the shelf behind you. Johnny groans when you clench around his fingers.
It’s a few seconds before you feel like you can speak again. The first thing you can utter is a hiss when Johnny laps at your slit again, far too sensitive for him to still be touching you.
“You can, ah…you can let me go now,” you pant. Coming back to your body takes an age, legs still trembling, held up by Johnny’s hands alone.
His fingers grip harder into your flesh. You stare down at him. 
“Oh, pretty baby,” Johnny coos, eyes black with desire, “we’re jus’ gettin’ started.”
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kneelingshadowsalome · 10 months
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König masterlist
Minotaur!König x Ariadne!Reader {Mythical AU, dubcon smut, 18+}
There’s nothing but ripped shreds of skin where the eyes should be, and instead of looking at you from the sides, they’re greeting you from the front. The horns are sturdy, but otherwise, the colossal head is a bit skewed... Thick patches of fur sticking out as if it was years and years old, and then – you realize it’s not his head; it’s only an illusion. There’s a man under there. A full, grown man who’s made himself a terrible helmet out of a bull’s carcass. 
Part 1 | Part 2
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Christian Woman {Romance, fluff, smut, 18+}
König x Nun!Reader | This man could be your brother, you tell yourself. He could be a long-distance cousin. There’s nothing fishy going on around here, and he’s just visiting. You miss a few midday prayers, and once, your chores, and the relationship turns out to be far from platonic. König can’t even keep his eyes in check. 
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3
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Possession {Dark fic, angst, smut, 18+}
König x Maid!Reader | Poor thing doesn’t know that he may be rich and powerful and strong, but he’s not kind. He’s not considerate, and he’s not perfect. He’s her worst nightmare, he's everything a woman would despise. 
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FATUM NOS IUNGEBIT {Historical AU. Roman Auxilia soldier!König with his spoils of war gf. Slow burn, romance, fluff, eventual smut, 18+}
König x F!Reader | The soldiers behind him shift with lust – their gear clinks as they devour you with unbridled hunger. The Titan is the only one who looks at you like you’re simply a cute little squirrel who happened to fall from a tree right there at his feet. Then his eyes drop to your breasts, and the familiar hunger that lives in men gives the ocean of his eyes a clouded look. When his stare finds yours again, he's a different man: the treacherous beast of your dreams.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4
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Valkyrie {Dubcon, smut, flangst, romance, 18+}
Virgin!König x F!OC | The situation had indeed taken a turn into a sick fairytale. Like, come on. Valkyrie and König? Some stupid hippie would've loved that: how it was meant to be, destined, even, that the two of them had met. That she was a damsel in distress, and he was here to save her from the ring of fire.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3
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Just Friends {Dark romance, smut, violence, heavy angst, 18+ WARNING: Not safe or sane}
König x F!Reader | She's far too kind, that's what people always say, but she's also neck-deep into this goddamn creep at this point to do anything about it. The building is full of muscled men, men who are decent, and she chooses this… gift-bearing perv to crush on. In her judgment system, she's basically asking for it at this point.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4
Even Demons are Lonely {Angst, pining, König POV, yandere, 18+} He comes back after a mission {Fluff, mild smut, angst, yandere, 18+} Just Friends playlist (by @evil-squint-etc) Art for Just Friends by @shizukaay0
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ja3hwa · 7 months
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☜𝕶𝖎𝖓𝖐𝖙𝖔𝖇𝖊𝖗 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑☞
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October is finally here. The month where Fanfic writers run wild with their ideas and fantasies. This is my first time writing this event, and I was honestly so stressed but very excited about it. So, without further ado, let's get started. ♥︎
All works are mature, viewers be advised.
Masterlist | Navigation
Day 1: Car Sex - [Gloomy Days]
↳ 【Synopsis】 : A trip turned sour due to a storm. But, luckily, Yunho knows just the thing in turning this gloomy day into a more steamy one.
Day 2: Voyeurism - [Eyes On Me]
↳ 【Synopsis】 : Biker Gang Leader doesn't like sharing unless it's to do with his best friend.
Day 3: Shower Sex - [Just One Moment]
↳ 【Synopsis】 : When Jongho comes from a long and stressful day, he only wants one thing... You bent over.
Day 4: Food Play - [The Sweetness Of You]
↳ 【Synopsis】 : It all started with a simple dinner and a movie. But when Seonghwa asked if you wanted dessert, you knew your sugar was about to spike from more than just the sweetness of the fruits and chocolate.
Day 5: Exhibitionism - [Dimly Lit Bathroom]
↳ 【Synopsis】 : Wooyoung couldn't keep his hands off you on a regular basis. But when he sees you in such a sexy outfit, he has no choice but to drag you to the nearest bathroom.
Day 6: Rough/Possessive sex - [Whoops]
↳ 【Synopsis】 : You wanted to show your hot-headed lover that you could protect yourself. And what better way than to go looking for his number on rival....
Day 7: Thigh riding/dry humping - [Dedicated To You]
↳ 【Synopsis】 : You sweet producer boyfriend wanted to share something with you. But your neediness had other plans.
Day 8: Sensory Deprivation - [He Has Control]
↳ 【Synopsis】 : You were his work of art, and he loved to watch you squirm under him.
Day 9: Cock Warning - [Pure Relaxation]
↳ 【Synopsis】 : Jongho kept losing over and over again. Becoming increasingly more frustrated as time passes, it's a good thing you are here to help him cool off.
Day 10: Bondage - [Pretty Boy]
↳ 【Synopsis】 : It's Yeosangs turn to know what it feels like to have rope pull and tug on his beautiful skin, and he can't help my whimper at the sheer idea of it.
Day 11: Bike Sex/Edging - [A Ride That To Last A Lifetime]
↳ 【Synopsis】 : Yeosang had begged for weeks for you to go for a ride with him... Cavinging in, you finally realize how pleasurable it is to ride his bike.
Day 12: Size Kink/Size Difference - [Why So Tense?]
↳ 【Synopsis】 : Your two professors want nothing more than to help you with your studies. Personally gifting you some private lessons...
Day 13: Breath Play - [Make You Mine]
↳ 【Synopsis】 : San can't help but send death glares to any man that tried to have your attention for too long. Too bad you dont belong to him...yet.
Day 14: Marking/Biting - [Intoxicated]
↳ 【Synopsis】 : Your friend needed your help with trying out one of her experiments and let's just say Mingi was about to never let you leave the bedroom ever again because of it.
Day 15: Corruption - [God isn't here]
↳ 【Synopsis】 : Bad Boy Hongjoong wanted to change for you. Be the better man you deserved, but what if you ended up changing more than him?
Day 16: Spit Play - [Love, Lust Has No Bounds]
↳ 【Synopsis】 : You were in love with the enemy, and oh, how it was it exciting.
Day 17: Fingering/Squirting - [Move]
↳ 【Synopsis】 : You needed him, any part of him. But Seonghwa wanted to see you squirm. To see you cry and beg for him to satisfy you.
Day 18: Toys/Mirror sex - [The Perfect Gift]
↳ 【Synopsis】 : Hongjoong couldn't decide what gift to buy you while we was traveling. So he bought them all and now wants you to try them out. Every. Single. One.
Day 19: Dacryphillia/Clit Play - [Prove It]
↳ 【Synopsis】 : Late night conversations aren't suppose to end in sex... right?
Day 20: Sex pollen - [Out Of This World]
↳ 【Synopsis】 : You were gifted an alien plant from one of your friends that lived off the planet since you loved greenery. Little did anyone know the pollen had some weird side effects when inhaled.
Day 21: Temperature Play - [Cold To The Touch]
↳ 【Synopsis】 : Your undead lover had finally come back from a late night hunt, finding you shivering from the winter weather. But do not fret, as he was...skilled in keeping others warm-ish.
Day 22: Double Penetration - [New Member]
↳ 【Synopsis】 : You're the newest member to join one of the most famous rock bands. And luckily for you they are all hot...and fuckable.
Day 23: Praise/Body Worship - [Goddess Amongst Commoners]
↳ 【Synopsis】 : Overhearing for so called friends make fun about your "failures" in life made your loving mobboss boyfriend very unhappy. No one makes his Honey cry.
Day 24: Cum Play/overstim - [Milk Me Dry]
↳ 【Synopsis】 : Wooyoung couldn't help it. Every time he saw you, he felt himself grow heavy in his slacks. You were everything he needed. And he needed you now.
Day 25: Caught in the act - [Leave Or Join]
↳ 【Synopsis】 : You wanted to help your boyfriend relax. It just so happened that some poor soul decided to interrupt.
Day 26: Power Play/Mafia - [Black Card]
↳ 【Synopsis】 : You were hiding a big secret from your two loving boyfriends. What happens when they finally find out?
Day 27: Succubus/incubus - [You Make Me, Make Sense]
↳ 【Synopsis】 : Halloween is filled with spooky ghost stories and haunted places. But what if you end up walking right into a nightmare that was hiding a dream?
Day 28: Tentacles - [Planet 3564AB]
↳ 【Synopsis】 : You were a mercenary, searching for your next job in the galaxy. Little did you know, being stuck on a wateland planet was about to gift you more than just galactic credits.
Day 29: Monster Fuckers - [My Everything]
↳ 【Synopsis】 : Rain was pouring, and your heart was aching. You didn't care what the villagers nor that priest thought about him. You loved him, and you were going to prove it.
Day 30: Werewolf On Heat/Breeding - [Let Me Help]
↳ 【Synopsis】 : You didn't know what it meant to be on heat let alone know you could have one since you weren't a wolf... but here you were and Yunho was going to help you through it.
Day 31: Trick or Treat - [Eternally Ours]
↳ 【Synopsis】 : The night was cold, the manor even colder. Until a fire of pure lust was lit.
𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐑 : 𝑇𝐻𝐼𝑆 𝐼𝑆 𝐼𝑁 𝑁𝑂 𝑊𝐴𝑌 𝐴 𝑇𝑅𝑈𝐸 𝐷𝐸𝑃𝐼𝐶𝑇𝐼𝑂𝑁 𝑂𝐹 𝑇𝐻𝐸 𝐴𝑇𝐸𝐸𝑍 𝑀𝐸𝑀𝐵𝐸𝑅𝑆. 𝑇𝐻𝐼𝑆 𝐼𝑆 𝑃𝑈𝑅𝐸 𝐹𝐼𝐶𝑇𝐼𝑂𝑁 𝐴𝑁𝐷 𝐼𝑆 𝑁𝑂𝑇 𝑇𝑂 𝐵𝐸 𝑇𝐴𝐾𝐸𝑁 𝑆𝐸𝑅𝐼𝑂𝑈𝑆𝐿𝑌.
© 𝐉𝐚𝟑𝐡𝐰𝐚. Do not steal, plagiarise, translate, repost, or use my work in any way, shape, or form.
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ddejavvu · 7 months
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hiiiii! i love ur sirius x animagus!reader collection :)
how about one where the girls dont know that r is the cat they see sirius hanging out with and one of them knits a sweater for sirius' 'cat' and sirius and the boys r just like "shes vicious when it comes to costumes :(" feeling bad for whoever made the sweater but then r like lets them put it on or smth and theyre surprised?
part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6 / part 7 / part 8 / part 9
i've sort of twisted your prompt just a teeny tiny bit!! i hope all of the parts you liked most are still in there, though :') // also this one was hard to tag 'cause again technically it's sirius x reader but he's not present and she's not with james either so i used both of their tags just because they're technically the central focus of the overarching story even if this part is a little less defined
--
James thinks it might be the worst day of his life so far, and isn't sure what mischief he could have inflicted upon anyone to possibly deserve this cruel of a punishment.
Lily Evans is standing before him, face kind instead of pinched in annoyance as it so often is at his presence, and she's handing him something. As in, he will take it from her and their hands will brush. As in, her skin will touch his. As in, he's never going to wash his hand again.
"I'm glad I found you,-"
She's glad she found him!
"-I couldn't catch Sirius before he left Potions," She laments, "Could you let him know I made this for his cat, Potter?"
James's stellar brain and above-average intelligence supply him with the phrase, 'Huh?', which might possibly be the least embarrassing thing he's ever said to her, and that doesn't fare well.
"That's Sirius's new cat, isn't it?" She presses on, and James forces himself to tear his eyes off of her ethereal face to glance at you, draped lazily over the couch cushion beside him soaking up the warmth of the fire. Your eyes were lazy before Lily had shown up, but at the sight of what she's holding out; knitwear, they narrow and sharpen. It's an odd shape, not human size, with openings for four legs.
"I thought she might be getting cold now that the snow's started up," She tilts her chin towards the window, glazed over with frost, "And I just figured I could knit her a little sweater."
Not even James's fear of your claws can deter him from accepting the gift from Lily. He takes it - and their hands brush! Just like he'd hoped for! - grabbing you unceremoniously around the middle and dragging you onto his lap.
"She loves sweaters." He fibs, shamefully distracted by Lily's face as he tries wrestling you into the garment. You're well aware of why he's lying to her, because the last time you'd been faced with cat clothes, you'd ripped a hole in his bedspread. But this is Lily, and you refrain from shredding the fabric of his pants as he shoves you into the sweater.
He's clumsy with it, because he's not giving you his full attention, and you let out a disgruntled meow as he smears the fabric of the sweater over your face instead of tugging your head through the hole.
"Now, Mittens," He chuckles tensely, "Just- put your paw through there, don't scratch me-! And- there." He announces proudly, hoisting you up into the air just beneath the joints of your front paws. He displays you to Lily, and you steel yourself as she croons and reaches out to pet you. She's far gentler than the man holding you, and you'd appreciate it at any other point in time, but the sweater she'd knit you is itching against your fur and dragging it against the grain, and you'd like to leave it in ribbons as you bolt up the staircase. For everyone's sake, you won't.
"Look at that," James announces proudly, "She loves it. Thanks, Lily."
She smiles, a soft gesture, but not a weak one. She nods, "James," And takes her leave, heading towards the girls' dorms staircases, inevitably about to find your bed empty and wonder where you are at this hour of night.
"She said my name," James breathes, only after the door to your dorm has been safely shut, and she runs no risk of hearing him. He looks incredulously at you, in your tense, rigid stance on the couch cushions, "She didn't call me Potter! She- you're a miracle." James levels you with an intensely grateful stare, thumbing fondly at the knitwear that's itching viciously at your fur, "You're my wingman, Y/N. I mean it, you're putting that sweater on every day, I'll manhandle you into it myself."
You yowl at him, a sound that typically scares him off, but he doesn't yield, grinning impishly at you instead.
"Whatever you say, Mittens."
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miley1442111 · 14 days
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fix it together- a.hotchner
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a/n: i imagined a fem reader but as per usual, imagine what you like :) thank you guys for all the love on the first part of this!!!!
please don't read if you have emetophobia!!!!
summary: aaron said some horrible things. He's trying to fix it, right?
pairing: husband! aaron hotchner x wife! reader
warnings: mad angst, aaron is so mean, reader believes she is a bad mother, heartbreak, feelings of disappointment, reader is pregnant, talks of pregnancy, talks of vomiting and morning sickness, happy ending :)
part 1- fix it.
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Aaron
The last few weeks had been… tense. Going back to work was fine and we still acted like a couple, don’t get me wrong. Yet, everything felt disgustingly different. The gifts hadn’t been working. The dates hadn’t been working. Every second of my days were spent thinking over what I’d said on that horrible night. Did I ask for an annulment? What was I thinking? I love you more than anything, I want you forever. Since the first date I’d known you were my girl, my forever girl. Every night I’ve been trying to make it clear to you that I want you. That I think you’re a good mother. Even the nights you'd stayed at Penelope's.
After Jack's birthday, you'd gone to Penelope's for 3 nights, I only saw you during the day at work, and even then you didn't look at me, let alone speak to me. You came home because you missed Jack.
Since then, you’ve been distant, focusing on work, or Jack more often than not. So I decided something. 
I made all the distractions go away. Jack went off to his cousin's house, and I pulled us out of work for a full week, much to Strauss’s annoyance. Only thing is that I hadn’t told you. 
Well, this better work. 
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------
“Honey?” I cleared my throat, still groggy from waking up a few minutes prior. You weren’t in bed, you’d recently stopped our regular 5 minutes of hazy cuddling as we both wake up. My third favourite part of the day. My second favourite being when you come to me at 2:07pm everyday at work and give me a kiss, my first favourite being the kiss and hug you give me at the end of the day, just after tucking Jack in. All three had stopped in recent weeks.  
“Yeah?” You called from the bathroom, doing your regular morning routine. 
“I called us out of work,” I yawned and heard your quickened footsteps, then you appeared in front of me. You looked so beautiful, as always. A random and oversized t-shirt and a pair of shorts that left little to the imagination. I started to sweat just thinking about it. 
“What? Why?! We have people who need our help, we have cases-” You started rambling as I got up and cupped your face, kissing you. 
“Because I need you. I need you to be you again,” I whispered against your lips, hoping this would work. “So we’re going to have a nice few days, yeah? Today we have your appointment and we’ll have another talk. Then we can just relax for the rest of the week.”
“The week?” you stressed and I rolled my eyes, kissing you again. Your lips were so perfect. You’d brushed your teeth, not that I mind your morning breath. Not that I mind anything about you. 
“Please,” I was begging and I wasn’t even ashamed. “Please honey,” I wrapped my hands around your waist, trying to persuade you. 
“Aaron-”
“Don’t call me Aaron,” You’d stopped calling me the usual ‘baby’ or ‘darling’, or my favourite ‘love’. “Please. I want to be normal again. I don’t want this distance, I adore you more than anything.”
I could tell you felt conflicted. I hurt you. I know I did. 
“Aaron,” another stab to my heart. “Fine, we’ll take this week off, and we can… talk.”
“Thank you my love,” I smile, pressing kisses along your exposed collarbone. You chuckled. I’d missed your laughter. I’d missed you.
“Ok baby, come on, I need to shower,” you giggled against me and I could feel my heart mending. Baby. I couldn’t stop the grin on my lips. I let go of you, but not before kissing you again. My perfect wife. 
“Can I join?” I smirked, and you scoffed. 
“Don’t push your luck Hotchner,” You chuckled. This was it. This is what it used to be. Flirty, loving, and fun. Before I ruined everything. 
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------
You
Forgiving Aaron was the easy part. Worrying if every parenting decision was the right one, was pure agony. 
Is it wrong to say that like that? Should I have done this a different way? Was that right?
And your brain’s personal favourite: 
What would Haley have done? 
You were beating yourself up about it all for the past few weeks. You felt you had ruined Jack’s birthday with your own insecurities, since he’d asked if you were alright the day after.
Telling Jack you were pregnant was a highlight from the past few weeks. He was ecstatic to find out he’d be getting a little sibling. He already wanted to meet them and he understood that there would be times where either of you wouldn’t be able to play with him when his sibling arrived. 
Aaron had been grovelling to the highest degree. Flowers once a week, date nights, house chores, taking paperwork from you so you don’t need to do it, getting any and all pregnancy cravings, and helping you deal with all your morning sickness and migraines. 
It was maddening. You were going to go insane if you weren’t careful. 
Yet, you felt like every second of every day was spent thinking about your parenting choices and just wondering if having another baby was even a good idea. Would your new child even like you? Would this ruin your relationship with Jack? What was going to happen when they grow up? Did Aaron really think your parenting is terrible? 
Ok, so maybe you haven’t forgiven him just yet. Or at all. 
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------
You lay back in bed, a book in hand as Aaron pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder. You stared at the words on the page, trying to make sense of them when your brain was so clouded. Your levels of anxiety had risen greatly, which you both knew was not good for your baby. Aaron had been trying to lift some of the stress off your shoulders with his constant doting, but you knew that the stress was Aaron. From the moment you woke up to the minute you fell asleep, you felt like you were putting up a show. Being the perfect wife, perfect (probably shitty, you thought anyway) mother, perfect agent. It was exhausting. You wanted to go back to before, back to when you didn’t have to pretend everything was alright. 
You pushed him off you and lay on your side, a regular occurrence. Aaron felt dejected. He’d hurt you so badly, and he didn’t know what to do to fix it. 
“Baby?” he spoke into the room. 
“Yes Aaron?” You answered. 
“Do you still love me?” He asked in a small voice. He felt raw and full of emotion. Honestly, he was terrified of the answer. 
“Do I still love you?” You scoffed. “I think I should be the one asking that. You were the one mentioning getting an annulment.”
“You know I didn’t mean it like that… I was just-” He tried but you shot out of bed, staring at him with an anger in your eyes he could only describe as animalistic. 
“ 'You just' what Aaron? What?!” You squealed, all the emotions that you’d let build up, coming out at once. “I’ve been trying to be a good wife, to be a good mother for the past 4 fucking years Aaron. I have been that for you, I have been that for you and Jack, and I’m so happy to do it because I love the both of you more than anything! And all I ask in return is that you love and respect me! That is what you promised me on your wedding day! You didn’t fucking do that. You threw our marriage under the bus and compared me to your ex wife, the second you got slightly stressed. I’m sure Haley did a much better job than me Aaron, I’m sure she did! But I’m here Aaron. I love you. I love Jack. I have dedicated my life to the two of you, to our family! And now I feel like I’ve made a mistake in doing that, because the second you get overwhelmed, I’m in the first person that gets thrown under the bus?! To get reduced to nothing by you?! That’s not fucking fair Aaron, It’s not fair! And the worst part is that I fucking forgave you weeks ago, but I can’t forgive myself! I feel like such a shit mother every single day! I feel like I’m failing everyday, and that our baby will fucking hate me because it’ll somehow know that I’m the second choice! That it’ll know you’d rather be with someone who’s dead! So don’t come to me asking stupid fucking questions like that when you know the fucking answer Aaron. You don’t need to humiliate me more than you already have.”
You walked out of your shared bathroom, down the stairs into the living room, and sobbed your eyes out. 
Aaron sat up in the bed, thankful that Jack wasn’t home today, but devastated by your words, and his actions. Why had he even brought up an annulment? 
He couldn’t even begin to dissect the feelings he had when the bile in his throat suddenly came on and he had to run to the bathroom, and spill it into the toilet. Your words hit him like a knife, throwing his own words back in his face in the most disgusting way to do it, directed at you. You were an amazing mother, an amazing wife. And yet, you thought you were worthless. He had made you feel worthless. He felt terrible. He didn’t want Haley. Yes, he’d loved her for a long time, yes their divorce was heartbreaking. But he loved you now, and he didn’t ever want to take that for granted. He’d gotten two people who loved him unconditionally, two people who loved him enough to have a child with him, two people that would put themselves in harm’s way for him. 
And he fucked it up. Twice. 
He followed you downstairs, standing in the doorway as you sobbed into the couch cushions, then walked over and put a hand on your back. You didn’t push him off, that must be a good sign, right? He moved you to sit on his lap, your head in his shoulder as he calmed you down.
“I’m so sorry Y/n. I was awful to you. I don’t want an annulment, I never want an annulment. I know it sounds bad but I was just so used to Haley hanging a divorce over my head for so long, it just came out. You are who I want, who I would choose, every single time. You are a good mother. You’re going to be a good mother. I’m so sorry I ever made you doubt yourself. That I ever made you doubt me. I never want to hurt you like this again. This is the worst thing I’ve ever done, I’m so sorry,” he whispered against your skin. “I’m so sorry.”
You let out a half chuckle- half sob and pulled away. “Aaron, I need you to swear to me that you will never fucking bring up us breaking up again, unless you actually mean it.”
“I swear.”
“And I need you to promise me that you’ll work on stopping all the reactive bullshit we’ve been doing,” You sighed.
“I promise.” 
“Then, I think we’ll be ok,” You smiled softly and kissed his cheek, settling your head back against his neck. 
“So we’re ok again?” He asked hopefully. 
“Not yet, no,” You stated and his hope vanished. 
“Honey-”
“We will be, soon.” 
He smiled again. You were his, always. Just as he was yours, always. Anything, you could get through. 
Together.
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criminal minds masterlist :)
people that asked to be tagged: @michasia24 @pear-1206 @randomrosie01 @tonystankhere
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highvern · 1 month
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Patterns II
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4
Pairing: Jeon Wonwoo x fem!reader
Genre: smut (18+), eventual fluff/angst
Summary: Once is happenstance. Twice is coincidence. Three times is a pattern. So what does it mean when you find yourself in Wonwoo's bed over and over again?
Chapter Warnings: exhibitionism, fingering, hand job, dry humping, oral (face sitting), lots of teasing/minor degradation if you squint, overstimulation, breath play
Length: ~9.9k
Note: part 2 is here, let's goooooo! thanks for being so patient and thank you @millennial-fangirl and @idyllic-ghost for beta-ing!
Remember: Tumblr runs on reblogs and I run on validation in the tags and comments :)
m.list + support my work
This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked!
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Avoiding Wonwoo post D-Day, as Amina calls it, proves to be surprisingly easy. An entire week of back to back meetings leaves you blocking off parts of your calendar just to use the bathroom. And according to the grapevine, there’s been zero proof of life from Wonwoo’s end either which has caused Mingyu to break out in hives. 
But as the weekend draws closer you’re given the greatest gift the universe can bestow.
“Monday is a disconnect day for the client which means all of us are on black out. No emails, no phone calls, nothing.” Mona announces in the team huddle.
Tears of joy bead in your eyes at the news. However, it's short lived.
“We’ll need to hit the ground running when we come back so make sure everything is done Friday. Even if you have to stay late. Understand?” 
Your laptop pings with a message in the corner.
Gerard: how does she make free PTO sound like hell?
Y/N: i think she said it was her special talent when we did ice breakers at the beginning of the project
Gerard: oh yeah right after she said she hates puppies
Y/N: and joy
Mona slaps her own computer shut, sending you ten feet in the air before continuing, “If there isn’t anything else. We can wrap this up. Shoot me a message if there are any questions.” 
“And how will you be spending your new found free time?” You ask.
Gerard holds the door open as you walk past, “The way the universe intends. In bed, sleeping. Maybe I’ll finally unpack my suitcase from the last trip Mona dragged me on.”
“Wasn’t that like, a month ago?” You ask.
“And?”
The rest of the day is a blur, rushing from meeting to meeting with barely enough time to breathe. It’s only the end of the day that grants you the next glimpse at the world outside the dreary office walls. Albeit through the bright screen of your cell phone.
Once back at your desk, you unlock your phone to find several unread messages. Several from Amina document her jealousy that you and Lisa have long weekends. Lisa offers to kick Mingyu off the long planned trip to the adorable bed and breakfast she found for their anniversary. 
Amina 🍑💗: FREE ME FROM THE SHACKLES OF CORPORATE AMERICA
Y/N: Your honor free her!!!
Lisa 👁️🫦👁️: Girls trip! Girls trip! Girls trip!
Lisa 👁️🫦👁️: mingyu will understand 
Y/N: I am begging you to go have gross emotional sex somewhere other than our apartment
Lisa 👁️🫦👁️: we’ve done it plenty of places that arent the apartment :) 
Y/N: whore
But a separate thread unleashes a coldsnap in your veins.
Wonwoo (lisa bf roommate): forgot to give these back…
Attached is a photo. A familiar swatch of cotton contrasting with the rich navy of his blanket in the background. His long fingers grip the hem, involuntarily jolting memories of them curled around your body.
Upon realizing you’re sitting out in the open staring at a picture of your panties, you hastily lock your phone and shove it into the deep recesses of your purse. Thank the stars no one else was around to glimpse the crude picture or the sudden sweat along your brow. How dare Wonwoo’s first attempt at speaking to you post hook up be a picture of your underwear in the middle of the work day. Who did he think he was?
Overcoming the initial embarrassment that floods your system, you decide to ignore his bid for attention. If you ignored him then he wouldn’t know the power he held. Plain and simple.
The next few days fly past without incident. Wonwoo remains silent and allows you to fall back into forgetting his existence.
As Friday hurdles forward, the usual shenanigans of bar hopping is replaced by plans for a movie night. You aren’t the only one suffering from sleep deprivation; Amina’s job ran her into the ground, and same with Lisa’s. 
The idea fills you with dread, spurred by yearning to spend every moment of free time to catch up on sleep. But knowing your friends, the probability of successfully ditching is on the negative side of zero, especially since you’ve barely spoken to one another all week and they’d both be out of town for the weekend.
The atmosphere of the office is sullen. Late Friday afternoons are reserved for pretending to work and gossiping. Unless you work for your team. In which case, you’ve spent the past hour agonizing over different powerpoint transitions and if they convey professionalism yet approachable.
A throat clearing behind you breaks your trace.
“Okay, I need to go home.” 
Looking up from your laptop, an aura of visible graveness radiates from Gerard. His theater minor really came in handy.
“Why?” You ask skeptically. 
Gerard was nice. But he wasn’t that nice.
“Because I’m already going to be stuck here all night.” He sighs. “And there’s no point in both of us suffering. You have the report ready?”
“Yeah, I just need to make a new powerpoint and get it finalized.”
“Then let me handle it. Mona wants me to re-do the other report you need for the deck so I’ll make it when I’m done.”
Hands moving of their own volition, you shove your scattered belongings into your purse. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure.” He groans. “If I need something I’ll call. Now go. Be free.”
He shoos you without another word, diving into his own computer. Before Gerard can change his mind you’re in the elevator and own your way home.
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Thirty minutes later, you find Amina and Lisa already in the midst of a full apartment clean up. A 2000s playlist blasts from the speaker on the counter while Amina shoots daggers at the furniture in the living room.
“Do you think we should move the couch?” Amina shouts at your entrance.
Her lips move but you can’t hear anything over the blasting noise. “Huh?” 
“The couch!” She repeats after cutting off the sound.
You nod before realizing you're still in work clothes. Rushing to your room, you quickly change into something more presentable.
When you return, Lisa is in the kitchen putting away dishes. You and Amina descend on the living room, heads bobbing in sync to the music while you work. Under combined efforts, the space shifts from wild disarray to sparkling clean in no time. 
Moving in sync, you both work to tetter the furniture into different arrangements. It takes four attempts before she throws her hands up, accepting defeat and moving to the counter to join Lisa. You fail to silence a half hearted cheer before flopping down onto the soft cushions of the sofa.
“Who said they were coming again?” Amina asks, her head resting on her arms crossed in front of her on top of the cool marble.
“Mingyu, Soonyoung, Eva,” Lisa pauses as she scrolls through her texts to find confirmation. “Wonwoo.” 
Both Amina and Lisa snap their necks to pointedly look at you.
Much to your own disappointment, your cheeks heat. Avoiding the scrutinous gazes of your roommates, you roll off the couch and busy yourself with replacing the pillows and blankets Amina tossed aside earlier.
“Have you talked to him at all?” Amina questions, walking over to reorganize the coffee table, sweeping their trinkets and books away for the drinks and food that would soon be spread atop it.
“Nope.”
“He hasn’t texted you or you haven’t responded?” Amina’s eyebrows furrow, as if Wonwoo’s silence is the most confusing thing between you two.
“He hasn’t texted.” You lie, pulling at a frayed thread at the corner of the pillow.
Lisa joins the effort, folding blankets and organizing them in piles. “Well that’s lame.”
“I’m sorry? Weren't you the one who threatened to kill him?”
Lisa rolls her eyes. “So? A girl can’t be dramatic?” 
“There’s dramatic and then there’s you.” Amina chimes.
“Whatever.” Lisa scoffs before looking at you. “Wonwoo’s cool but if he ghosted you then he’s a loser.” 
You shrug before responding, “It was just a one time thing. It’s not like I was reaching out to him either.”
“I thought you said he was good?” Amina asks with round eyes.
“He was but it was just a one time thing. Let’s not make it weird, okay?” You wait until they both nod before continuing. “What time is everyone coming?” 
“Around seven, I think?” Lisa throws the question to Amina.
“Yeah, seven.” Amina answers, eyeing the furniture again. 
Glancing at your phone you spot the time, 4:46PM. Perfect. 
“I’m gonna shower and take a nap,” You call, heading down the hall.
Once in the bathroom, you undress as the water warms to a tolerable temperature. Finding it suitable, you make to enter but the dig of your phone distracts you. The screen illuminates and you spot a familiar name.
Wonwoo (lisa bf roommate): I was planning on coming with mingyu tonight but if you don’t want me to I'll hang back
Wonwoo (lisa bf roommate): I don’t want to make you uncomfortable or anything
Strange as it may be, you're oddly endeared by his consideration. But his last messages sit on the screen just above and cut the warmth short.
Y/N: and yet there’s a picture of you holding my panties that says the opposite
Y/N: im not spooked so easily
Locking your phone, you jump in the shower. The hot water lulls away the anticipation flooring through your veins. It didn’t have to be weird. Tonight would prove it.
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The short nap leaves you disoriented but the laughter of friends draws you out from the covers. Bravely, you change out of pajamas into more presentable pajamas consisting of sweats and a sweatshirt. Once settled, you slide into the hall and meet company. 
Turning the corner and entering the kitchen, you scan the group. Eva and Soonyoung sit across the counter, both of them smiling your way. Amina is fussing about, attempting to organize the drinks spread across the counter into some kind or order. An expensive bottle of liquor Mingyu no doubt supplied sits in the middle like a prize, however he’s nowhere to be seen along with his roommate and girlfriend. You try to assist Amina but the space between the island counter and the stove is barely large enough for one body, let alone two. Amina shoos you away after barely a minute.
A trio of voices echo down the hallway.
“Every project he doesn’t want to do just gets thrown on me.” A deep voice complains. “I don’t even know what his actual job is.” 
The timber sends electricity down your spine. You try not to stare as Wonwoo steps into the light of the kitchen trailing behind Lisa. Apparently Wonwoo, Mingyu, and Lisa were tasked with food duty; however, Lisa's hands are completely empty. A stark contrast to Wonwoo and Mingyu behind her balancing several stacked boxes between them. 
You exchange a brief friendly smile with Wonwoo, before he continues with Mingyu. Shoulders sagging, your relief is only momentary. The weight of your friends watching the interaction is unbearable, despite everyone being wrapped in their own conversations. Lisa and Amina argue over the best order to organize everything while Mingyu sets about actually arranging the boxes. Soonyoung and Eva exchange gossip at the counter, their own laughter slicing through the air above them.
Pouring yourself a drink, you snatch the pitcher next to Eva, no doubt containing one of her deadly concoctions. Filling the glass halfway, you take a sip. Fruit and spicy sweetness tingling on your tongue followed by the warmth of cinnamon. The slight burn is masked with a deceptive tang of citrus. It goes down much too easily for the amount of alcohol Eva includes in her drinks. You estimate it’ll take two servings before you’re asleep against the arm of the sofa. Empting the glass, you pour another helping and cast off from the counter. 
Heading into the living room, you beeline for a spot on the sofa before anyone can object. Despite Amina’s attempts earlier, a few people would have to take to the floor and you refuse to be one of them.
“Alright everyone, come eat.” Amina calls in the small space.
You forgo the pizza for now. There would be plenty after everyone settled. Wrapping in one of the large fleece blankets, you burrow down into the sofa. Bending your knees, your legs cross while you lean back into the seam between the plush cushion and armrest, head perfectly positioned to see the television. 
Your cup empties before anyone comes to join you. Lisa and Mingyu squash into the recliner on the other side of the living room, the shabby chair groaning any time their weight shifts. You hope it's enough of a deterrent for their determined wandering hands. Many movie nights had been ruined because of their less than family friendly activities. Amina settles in front of the coffee table amongst the pile of cushions and thick blankets. Eva and Soonyoung curl up on the loveseat against the wall.
Wonwoo crashes down into the space next to you, sending a tight lipped smile at your responding frown. His legs spread apart as he leans forward to eat. Your shin brushes against his thigh through the blanket but fatigue prevents any sort of reaction beyond registering the presence of his body. 
Someone knocks out the lights and your eyes cement shut. The horror movie Lisa chose begins, lights from the screen dancing across your eyelids. It's a shallow rest at best, allowing you to catch snippets of dialogue from the characters and muffled whispers from your friends. But it’s like being underwater, senses dull as you experience it all from far far away.
You even forget about Wonwoo until he leans back into the cushions. The contact from his thigh breaking when he props his legs on the coffee table. A particularly loud scream comes from the TV but it's Wonwoo’s voice that startles you.
“Mind sharing?” He whispers, asking for permission despite already lifting the corner of the blanket draped over your knee.
You shake your head, nuzzling further into the armrest and away from temptation.
Wonwoo untucks the fold of the blanket from under your legs, stretching it across his lap. The heat of his side radiates into you even more. Even in your lethargic state the hyper awareness refuses to fade. It stokes a part of you wishing to move onto his lap and work you both back into the blissful high of a few nights ago. But you refuse to acknowledge the craving to dive into him, press your face into the front of his sweater and allow the beat of his heart to lull you into a rest.
You're fully aware all you need to do to get the first thing is let him give it to you. You were the one who ran away, shunned his attempts for a repeat, ignored him. Wonwoo provided several opportunities for a repeat of Friday night, now it was up to you to accept his invitation. 
But try as you might not to care, the dread of what your friends will think rears its head. It's a cop out; no one really cares that it's Wonwoo, only happy you’re finally getting laid again. 
You need to act before your nerve fades but in a room packed full of watchful eyes you’re unsure how to proceed. Feigning a yawn, your eyes pry open to lazily scan the room. Soonyoung has Eva between his legs, her back resting against his chest.. From where you are sitting it's evident they both have their eyes glued to the screen, Eva takes movie night too seriously to allow any funny business. Amina slouched down enough you can no longer see the top of her curly hair. Cautiously swiping at Lisa and Mingyu, it takes only a second before you look away. Thankfully Eva insists on blasting the TV volume to a deafening decibel. 
The movement of Wonwoo’s chest, lulled by the shallow rises and falls, clarifies in the fliting light of the screen. More memories of flushed skin shuddering with ragged breaths come to the forefront. Following the curve of his throat to the arch of his jaw, you find Wonwoo already staring back from the corner of his eye.
He arches an eyebrow, challenging and curious. It demolishes whatever resolve you possess to not look away. Instead, you focus back on the movie while untangling your legs and resting them on the coffee table next to his, ankles crossing under the blanket. The sudden motion leaves the entire span of your right leg flush with his left, a comforting warmth spreading between the layers of thick fabric between.. 
In the haste, the top of the blanket falls down to your lap. You tug it back up swiftly, wanting the layer to conceal your next action from the rest of the world. Satisfied with re-arranganged fabric, your hand doesn’t return to its previous home in your lap. Instead, it rests in the small stretch of space between you and Wonwoo, allowing your shoulders to brush lightly and her fingers to ghost along his thigh.
The heat of his sideways gaze continues to heat your cheeks despite your attempt at playing oblivious. Shifting closer, you pause; Wonwoo doesn’t take the opportunity to move away. Instead, he presses back. Some twisted part inside your mind relishes in victory.
Wonwoo’s left arm slouches down from its place on top of the cushion, joining yours in the space under the camouflage of the blanket. The back of your hands timidly brush before he extends his arm. It's sweet for a moment; shy and coy. But Wonwoo doesn’t allow you to sink into the gesture because his hand rests on top of your thigh and squeezes.
Thankfully you’re far enough back that no one can see unless they turn their neck so far it almost snaps off. Even then, the thick fabric of the blanket doesn’t give away what's happening underneath. The only clues are your labored breath and the shit eating grin threatening to split Wonwoo’s lips. The two couples on either side of the room are in far more compromising positions but with Wonwoo’s hand so high on your leg, you might as well be nude.
Calloused fingertips begin tracing across the inside of your thigh, just above your knee. Without thinking, your ankles uncross, letting your legs part slightly to grant him more space. A wince escapes between Wonwoo’s teeth from your nails digging into his own thigh.
Wonwoo’s hands are lazy in their journey upwards. Fingers massaging firmly against the supple skin, pulling at the flesh with a fraction of the intensity he’s capable of. His thumb kneads into cords of muscle, working out the knots he detects along the way. When he grazes the edge of the large bruise, you stiffen.
Most of the hickies he gifted that night healed, some already disappearing completely. The one he’s prodding now stubbornly remained, much to your mortification. With the irritated skin still sore to the touch, you were constantly reminded of its presence each time you moved. In your peripheral, Wonwoo turns his head. A downward twitch of your jaw motions for him to continue.
The scene on the TV is almost pitch black, throwing the room into a similar darkness. Wonwoo makes use of the cover and creeps his hand past the waistband of your sweats. He lets his palm rest against the lower part of your stomach, the pleasant warmth seeping in, soothing the nerves. The respite is short lived when his long middle finger traces along the elastic of your panties, teasing the skin under the band.
Sweat blooms on your brow and your breath grows stunted. It's embarrassing how worked up he has you. Barely twenty minutes into the movie, less than five of Wonwoo’s touch and yet the distinct wetness between your legs swells. But rather than relief, Wonwoo waits. And he waits. And he waits.
What is he waiting for? You think.
Eventually the movie will end, signaling your friends to get up. The second any of them spared a glance at your corner of the room everything will become clear and exactly what takes place under the blanket will become easily decipherable.
But there is nothing you can do to make Wonwoo’s hand dip lower and feel the dampness he spurred. Attempting to distract yourself from suffering, you switch focus on controlling your breath. Counting slowly to four while inhaling, holding for another four, and then exhaling in the same measure. Even your hand on Wonwoo’s thigh follows the rhythm. 
Mouth watering at the tense flex of the muscle under your fingers, you indulge in the visual of his room again. This time, he’s in nothing but his sweatpants, shirt nowhere to be seen. Red nail marks marr his chest and his hair is wild. You’re perched in his lap, completely naked and grinding against the evident bulge, dripping a wet spot on to the gray fabric. Wonwoo would watch while you used his body to get off, his hands tearing into the sheets. Fantasy Wonwoo would beg. He’d beg to kiss you, beg to touch you. Nothing like the devil sitting next to you, forcing you to plead for every once pleasure. 
Next time Wonwoo would beg. But patience was never a virtue you took pride in. 
Your hand wanders higher, finding exactly what you knew you would. Everything in you fights against grinning like the cat who got the canary. Despite the fact that you haven't really touched, Wonwoo is half hard. Even more satisfying is how he strains against his pants with only a few teasing passes.
He releases a heavy sigh when you push against him a little more firmly. Breaking attention from the movie, you sneak a peek at his reaction.
Wonwoo’s features are void of emotion. No matching bead of sweat at his temple and the heat you feel on your cheeks fails to present itself on his. Not even a wrinkle across his forehead. He almost looks…bored. It's a stark contrast to what you can feel under her palm.
But then you look closer and discover a discrete clench of his jaw and the minute flare of his nostrils. A glimpse at his neck highlights the stiff muscles, taunt like he’s fighting to break out of his own skin. You can’t stop looking. Subtle as the signs are, Wonwoo is just as much of a mess as you are. The only difference being he’s better at concealing it. 
Wonwoo continues to play with the band of your underwear, content to pull the elastic and let it snap against your skin, providing no solace. It's maddening but gives you a chance to brace for his next move. He really only has two options, pull his hand away and end the game. Or push his fingers down further and indulge. 
When a deafening scream blasts the TV prompts everyone to jump, he strikes. Wonwoo’s fingers wedge in the tight space between your legs. The sudden intrusion makes your thighs clench, a detrimental mistake since it forces the heel of his palm applying pressure to your clit. He wastes no time before prodding against the soaking fabric curiously. Extending his fingers downward, Wonwoo teases at your entrance through your  underwear. You could cry at the relief but control yourself, lip nearly splitting from biting back a squeak. You’d sell your soul to the devil if it meant you could be alone, sitting on his lap as he talks you through it, whispering for you to be good while he stretched you over his cock again and again. 
But that's impossible. So you’ll settle for this.
Your friends are none the wiser while you build each other up under the blankets. When you stuff your hand under Wonwoo’s waistband, you find out he is certainly not wearing underwear. Immediately you take advantage, letting your thumb graze against the weeping tip. The angle doesn’t allow for a smooth so you play with the head, letting catch on his slit to over and over. Each pass earns you a shudder of his stomach against the back of your forearm.
Wonwoo pushes aside the thin strip of your underwear, two fingers tracing your entrance before dipping inside, curling up to his middle knuckle. It’s hardly enough to get off but the threat of getting caught spawns more and more arousal. At this rate, your sweatpants will be sporting a wet patch if they aren’t already.
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She’s so fucking wet. Wonwoo thinks, the revelation sending a shot of want straight to his cock. He curses whatever he did in a past life preventing him from hauling you into your room and burying himself inside your cunt until he passes out. The irony of the position isn’t lost on him. Wonwoo waited all week for a green light and of course you decided to give it to him in the middle of a packed room with a dozen prying eyes and ears. But he isn’t one to shy away from a challenge. If you want him to get you off under the blanket, then he’s more than happy to rise to the challenge.
Wonwoo repositions his hand, allowing his fingers to play with your clit, abandoning the shallow thrust at your entrance. When his fingernail scrapes delicately over the bundle of nerves, a whimper breaks from through your parted lips and almost blows their cover. 
The movie, unlike you or Wonwoo, is at its climax. Loud screams and distorted music occupy the attention of everyone in the room. But still, you both pause, frozen and waiting for a sign someone heard. Wonwoo debates pulling away. He’d seen the film before, and while his mind struggles to remember the plot he knows there's simply not enough time left before the credits roll and the illusion is shattered. 
Brain riddled with hormones and lust, Wonwoo faces an impossible choice. Call timeout and hope you’re generous enough to give him another chance. Or, he can make the most of the opportunity literally at hand and pray he’s fast enough. 
He’d already waited an entire week, what was another day? And if he waited then maybe he’d get to fuck you properly, away from any onlookers. Where you can sing all the noises that drive him crazy.
The way you play with his cock makes confident he’ll get another turn; so, with herculean effort, Wonwoo extracts his hand from your underwear, moves it back on top of her thigh and gives a minute squeeze in apology. He looks down at your face, witnessing the moments of confusion. Your eyebrows knot under his scrutiny.
“Later.” He mouths, hoping you’ll accept his promise to finish what was started.
In an instant, confusion transforms into cold rage. Features smoothing, your chin tips in defiance. Wonwoo already regrets his decision, tempted to go right back to where he left off but you look like you might rip his arm off if he tries. You turn back to the movie and ignore his existence. 
The hand in his pants doesn’t leave, and a chill of fear trickles down his spine. You aren’t prone to violence, but having his most prized possession in the palm of your hand, coupled with the sinister coldness on your face doesn’t inspire any faith that he’ll walk away unscathed.
Wonwoo isn’t sure how much time passes before you act. Seconds drag on, forcing him on the edge of his seat with anticipation. The knee closest to him bends, your foot resting on the end of the cushion, providing a tent of space over his lap. A decisive twist of her wrist catches him off guard. The space between his lap and the blanket hides the rough fists of his cock with their friends only feet away. The motion steals his breath; the way you use the slick to slide across his shaft, squeezing tightly to the point stars float in his vision.
With embarrassing swiftness, he’s close. Teeth pinching at his lip barely prevent the grunts building in his chest; praises for the devil next to him dying on the tip of his tongue. Wonwoo’s hips threaten to cant up, matching the rhythm of your hand with his thrusts. The warning signs of his end sizzle through his veins, the fuzzy snaps of pleasure racing up his spine. 
Wonwoo takes one last glance at your face, finding he’s already being watched. His eyes scan the mischievous smirk on your lips and realizes a second too late that he fell right into a trap. Without warning, your hand stills.
You smile sweetly as your hand slips out of his pants, snaking it into the bottom of his sweatshirt to wipe the mess of cum against his stomach. When your hand leaves his body and returns to your own lap, Wonwoo he’s been punched in the gut. 
He has no time to ponder what the hell just happened because the credits roll and Amina is already up and moving towards the lights. Wonwoo rubs his eyes, thinking about anything that will make his hard-on deflate before he has to stand up. Cold showers, old neighbors morning sex routine, getting hit with a car… he repeats like a mantra.
On his left, you hop up, all but skipping down the hall and into the darkness. Wonwoo wants to chase and finish whatever the hell just happened given that his cock is soft enough he can tuck it up in his waistband. But his phone buzzes before he can. The screen lights up with a new message from the minx herself.
Y/N (lisa roommate): maybe next time :)
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The next morning, Wonwoo wakes with utter disbelief at his life. Your texts burned into his skull.
Y/N (lisa roommate): maybe next time :)
Wonwoo: Next time?
Y/N (lisa roommate): you can think of this while you wait
The photo haunted him in his sleep. He stared at it for so long he’s sure he could draw the details from memory.
On your knees facing away from the mirror, your ass is on full display. Wonwoo doesn’t know it is better or worse that you’re lent forward with a lewd curve to your spine. Better because he can see everything. Worse because he received it minutes after you fled to your room, which means the wet cling of your panties to your folds was his doing. 
More effective than the picture is the fact you were all but twenty feet away in the privacy of your room, taking nudes while he pretended everything was normal. The entire time he helped tidy up, the walk back to his apartment, and long before he fell asleep, Wonwoo wondered if you were touching yourself. He wanted to ask; ask if you were thinking about him while you did it and if you weren’t, could he give you something to think about?
But every time he opened the thread to message you his finger refused to type. Wonwoo remembered what it was like to have you on your knees. He hadn’t stopped thinking about it. But now he has an idea what you look like from the back and it might end his life.
Instead of spending the night with the subject of his desires, Wonwoo found himself the subject of torture. Lisa came back to their apartment so the couple could leave first thing in the morning to some rural bed and breakfast outside the city to celebrate their anniversary. Apparently, they decided to start their celebration early. Hours of Lisa and Mingyu going at it across the hall stretched on with no end in sight. 
Their usual antics would piss Wonwoo off but he’d deal with it. However, last night it only reminded him how much he is not getting laid and he has no one to blame but himself. Crushing a pillow over his head, Wonwoo attempted to make up for the sleep he is already desperately missing. 
His efforts were hopeless. Barely five minutes passed before he turned fitful, tossing and turning without finding comfort. Every trick he knows failed; counting his breath, meditation, relaxing music, turning off his phone. Nothing works. He gives up after an hour.
When dawn came, Wonwoo’s bad mood set in to plague him the rest of the day. 
Sheltering down in his room, he remains hidden until he is certain Mingyu and Lisa are long gone. When he does finally leave his bed, the choke of storm clouds outside have darkened the skies to the point that if not for the clock on his phone he would think it's closer to midnight than it is to noon.
When he decides to step out to grab food, his mistake doesn’t hit him until he’s already shut the door. 
Wonwoo’s keys are still on the kitchen counter. Next to his wallet. And his will to live. 
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Several streets over, your day is going much much better; refreshed from a full night sleep and the thought of what Wonwoo’s face looked like opening the picture.
Lisa and Amina granted clemency last night, cleaning the mess from the evening before abandoning you for the weekend. Lisa off with Mingyu while Amina joined the college friends on their annual retreat (re: party weekend at the coast). Leaving you all to your lonesome for the next two days, nothing but rest and relaxation dancing on the horizon.
The murky darkness of thunder and rain outside the window is staved off by the warm glow from the floor lamp in the corner of the living room and the dancing lights of the TV as a random show whispers quietly. The warm air is clogged with the sweet smell of vanilla and bergamot from one of Amina’s large candles that rests on the coffee table. And bundle on the couch in the same blanket soiled from the night before, you doze off like a house cat. 
A rogue buzzing pulls you back from the shallow slumber, eyes cracking open lazily to search for the device lost in the cushions. By the time you find it, the call has gone to voicemail. The notification on the screen means you must still be dreaming.
MISSED CALL: Wonwoo
A flash of panic tightens your chest. A million thoughts race by, all regarding what could prompt Wonwoo to call you. He doesn’t call you. In the year and a half you’ve known each other there isn’t a single instance of it. The complete uncharacteristic nature of it has you calling him back before giving it a second thought.
“Are you home?” Snaps through the speaker after the first ring.
He sounds pissed. It’s not the usual sarcastic lit that graces his interactions. It’s dry and pointed and already grating your nerves.
“Well, hello to you.” You sneer back.
“Hi.” He deadpans. You can feel the eye roll through the phone. “Are you home?”
“Why?”
It’s 9pm on a Saturday night and both your roommates are out… of course you’re home.
“I’m locked out and I know Mingyu gave Lisa a copy of the key.”
“You’re locked out?” You parrot. It’s not that it’s an impossible situation, it’s just ridiculously unlucky timing.
“Good to know you’re listening.” He bites.
“Actually, come to think of it, I’m out of town.”
“Y/N…” He interrupts, voice clearly exhausted.
Normally, you would goad him until blue in the face. His stunt last night doesn’t warrant patience. But you know he’s had a week from hell too based on what Mingyu and Lisa shared.
“Yeah I’m home. But Lisa took her keys with her so I doubt the spare is here.”
“Great, just fucking great.” He erupts.
You wince, “Sorry.” 
Wonwoo doesn’t respond immediately. The measured cadence of his breath echoes through the line. When he finally speaks again he sounds calmer.
“Not your fault,” he murmurs. “Timing is just shit given the week I’ve had.”
“Your landlord can’t let you in?”
“Not answering his phone.”
“And Mingyu?”
“Also not answering.”
After that, words fail you. But given Wonwoo truly seems to be on the verge of a mental breakdown, you throw him a bone.
Readjusting the phone on your shoulder, your hands pick at the frayed hem of the blanket. “Look, if you want to sleep on the couch here, be my guest.”
Silence.
“If you’d rather call a locksmith go ahead.” You rush. “Just thought I’d offer.” 
“If you wanted a slumber party you could have told me.”
Apparently, even poor luck can’t prevent Wonwoo from being a complete smartass.
“Have fun sleeping outside!” You croon sweetly, looking for the button to end the call.
“Wai—”
Phone locked and tossed to the floor, you burrow back into the nest of pillows and blankets. Any prior  drowsiness transforms into irritation. 
Less than a minute passes before your phone begins ringing once more.
 It's your turn to snap at him. “What?”
The pause on the other end of the line is heavy. 
“I was being an ass.”
“You’re always an ass.” You respond with a deep sigh.
“The locksmith won’t come till morning so…”
Despite your better judgment, you take pity on the poor man. 
“Come over.” You concede, cringing at the implication of the phrase. Wonwoo is coming over because he’s locked out. Not for any other reason. He’s desperate and needs somewhere to crash until his landlord can let him in.
“…Thanks.” 
The call ends.
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Wonwoo knocks on the door twenty minutes later. You can’t believe what you see through the peephole. He’s soaked down to his skin, hair matted to his forehead despite the hood of his jacket. The chill of the hallway makes him shake like a leaf in a windstorm. When you finally open the door to face him, he’s somehow worse than he was through the glass.
If it was under any other circumstances the cling of the hoodie against his broad chest would stir something inside you. But Wonwoo has never looked so… pitiful.
“Oh my god,” You manage, choking on laughter.
“Are we just gonna stand here or can I come in?”
Shouldering open the door, you snicker as Wonwoo steps around. At least until he starts abandoning his wet clothes once inside.
“Wait, let me get some towels.” 
Running to the bathroom, you snag whatever towels can be spared. You catch yourself in the mirror before exiting. Messy hair with an indent on your cheek from the crease of the pillow is the least of your problems. There's stain on the front of your sweater from the leftover pizza scarfed down for lunch and you aren’t wearing a bra. 
It doesn’t matter considering Wonwoo looks like a drowned cat but you’re still self conscious. The best you can do is splash cold water on your face and remember he is worse off than you.
Wonwoo waits right where you left him by the door, dripping more water with each second. His bare chest glistens in the dim light. When he looks up from his phone you chuck a towel at his head. 
“You can wait in the bathroom while I find some dry clothes.”
Wonwoo trudges behind as you lead him back the way you came. 
Once again, he immediately unbuttons his pants without regard for your presence. Deft fingers make quick work. You remember where you are when he goes to force them down.
Wonwoo meets your eyes in the mirror, “Staying to watch?”
“I’m just gonna…” You mumble, looking anywhere but at the show he puts on.
The door latch clicks just as the heavy thuds of his soaked clothes land in the sink. Leaning against the opposite wall, your head gently rests against the cool surface. A deep sigh leaves your nose.
You’ve seen Wonwoo naked. Your hand was down his pants less than twenty four hours ago. A picture of your ass lives in his text messages for Christ sake. Seeing him shirtless and wet shouldn’t have you blushing like some virgin.
Ruminating on your momentary lapse of dignity will get you nowhere so you start hunting for the collection of Seungcheol’s clothes from the bottom drawer of your dresser. A few months ago the sight would have sent you to tears. Now, it’s comical. The fleeting memory of Lisa’s bewildered face when you choked down sobs after Amina threw out your ex’s toothbrush rears its head. Crazy how things can change so quickly from hurt to nothing.
You're in and out of the bathroom in a flash, collecting wet clothes in exchange for dry ones. Thankfully, Wonwoo doesn’t jest from behind the current.
While he continues to shower, you’re busy with making the couch habitable. Knowing you can’t deal with another of Wonwoo’s uncouth comments, the blanket you previously used is exchanged for the one draped on the armchair. Rather the blanket Mingyu and Lisa sullied than the one tainted by yourselves.
Wonwoo comes down the hallway just in time, toweling at his damp hair. 
“Well, this is it.” You say, avoiding eye contact. “There's a charge plugged in near the TV you're welcome to use. Um, good night.”
“Gonna make me sleep all by myself?” He plops on the couch, arms crossed behind his head. Wonwoo’s too cocky for someone who looked like he drowned on dry land twenty minutes ago. 
Wonwoo’s triumphant smirk doesn’t last when you plop a heavy knitted quilt over him. He scrambles free but you’re already halfway to your bedroom.
Scoffing, you respond,“What? Are you scared of the dark?”
“If that's the excuse you need to come over here, sure. I’m terrified.”
“Awww,” you coo sarcastically. “You’ll cope.”
In the confines of your room, you manage the first deep breath of the night. You won’t be able to sleep. Not with him so close. Not when temptation is just beyond the door and down the hallway. 
How dare he ask you for a favor and then act like an ass. Of course, he’d use something so unfortunate to get his dick wet. 
More steam pours from your ears as you ruminate. Pacing back and forth you scoff at his audacity until it boils over and you're stomping back into the living room.
“You know I’m doing you a favor by letting you stay here.” You fume, stopping a few feet away from where the biggest pain in your ass rests. “I could have let you go to Eva and Soonyoung’s and deal with their bullshit but I didn’t.”
Wonwoo lifts on one elbow, eying you silently. 
Faltering under his gaze, you continue to ramble. “How dare you ask me for a favor and then act like a pig.”
“You’re right.” 
“What?” You choke.
“I’m sorry.” Wonwoo concedes. 
You falter for a second in disbelief, mouth gaping over silent words. It couldn’t have been that easy. 
“I shouldn’t have believed you giving me a handy meant more than it was.”
Huffing, you stop and turn back to your room. “You’re insufferable!”
“And yet, you still sent me a pic of your ass.” He snorts, collapsing back into his pillow. “Pick a lane, Y/N.”
“Yeah, whatever.” Flinging your hands in the air, you return back to your room to stew until morning.
“So that picture was all talk?” Wonwoo yells in your direction.
He wants a reaction and that's exactly what he gets. Pivoting, you storm back in front of the couch. 
“Oh! I’m all talk? You’re the one who can’t even finish what he started.”
“And what did I start?” He sneers, sitting up. 
You know what he’s doing. Attempting to rile you up until there's no choice but to give in. And it’s working. Wiping that stupid smirk on his face is as simple as swallowing his cock until he’s nothing more than a twitching mess. But if Wonwoo wants you, he’ll need to try harder than goading a response out of you. 
Biting back you prod his chest, “Nothing worth my time, that's for damn sure.”
“Really?” Wonwoo asks, rising to his feet. “Didn’t seem that way last night.” 
Chest to chest, he’s more intimidating but you won’t falter. Instead, you switch gears. Your finger skims dangerously close to the waistband of his pants. 
“I’m a really, really good actress.”
A battle of wills ensues. Wonwoo stares you down, unflinching at your smirk. He’s pissed at the implication. It's clear in his body language; tense shoulders, shuddering breath. 
Your fatal mistake comes when his tongue peeks out to wet his lips. The memory of what they felt like jolts an ache in your bones. 
A tilt of his chin is all the invitation you need to drag his mouth to yours.
Wonwoo has you perched on his lap in an instant, legs splayed over his spread thighs and his hands pulling you forward. It's clumsy but eagerness blinds you both to anything beyond the powerful drag of your core hips against the tent in his pants.
Twisting a hand in the short hair at the base of Wonwoo’s neck, you tug hard enough to move him how you want. A throaty moan is the only response he gives, easily following your demands. But the way his large hands grab at the curve of your ass move you how he wants.
He groans into the curve of your shoulder with the next cant of your hips. “God, you’re so hot. Shit.”
Despite the chill that has creeped its way inside the apartment, you’re burning up; skin flushed and hot to touch. The hand not tangled in Wonwoo’s hair slips under his shirt, nails skating up the taunt muscles of his abdomen. His own hands echo the path, finding their way beneath your sweater.
Wonwoo lifts your sweater and swiftly drops it to the flooring, busying his hands with cradling the soft skin he’s uncovered. He leans away to break the kiss, but you manage to drag him back. 
“W-Wonwoo, fuck,” you curse, clinging tighter when he breaks the contact and drops his mouth to your chest.
His teeth scrape against your collarbone, leaving you dizzy and desperate. Head in the clouds, you fold and bend as he tortures your breasts. The rough pad of his thumb leaves goosebumps in its wake, skating across your nipple until it pebbles. One reflex you twist the fist of his hair harshly when he pinches and are rewarded with a moan and rush of his cock into your covered cunt. 
A hot trail of sloppy kisses sends your heart into a tailspin. Wonwoo must feel it with the way he licks and sucks your nipple; pulling until it pops out of his mouth before he leans back to repeat the motion once more.
Eventually, Wonwoo’s borrowed sweatshirt is abandoned on the floor as well but neither of you find the rush present from your previous romp. You follow when Wonwoo leans back, flat against his chest.
Hazy fatigue swells around the edges. The feeling of skin on skin, lips on lips, and roaming hands brings everything to a calming lull. Without the fog of alcohol or the threat of nosey friends, you explore each other with feather light touches that turn into gentle gropes, and hot wet kisses that transform into drags of teeth and lips. From shared exhaustion, running on nothing less than minutes of sleep and a near lethal dose of caffeine, you sluggish trapeze through the motions. 
Taking advantage of the moment, you discover exactly what Wonwoo likes. When you rake a hand through his hair, nails pulling through the damp locks to scratch against his scalp, then Wonwoo shudders and sucks at your chest with more enthusiasm than before. He likes when you bite him, his hips rutting up harshly with each nip at his throat.
Each breathy sigh you release spurs him on. Melting into a needy mess, you can’t find an ounce of embarrassment; even as Wonwoo massages your cunt through your sweatpants and pathetic whimper after pathetic whimper pours from your throat.
Having his focus on you makes you crave him more. A never ending cycle of want. 
“Please,” you beg. The second the word is out of your mouth, Wonwoo is ushering you towards your room.
You trip through the living room with Wonwoo’s mouth still latched to your chest. Pinned between the back of the couch and his body, he sucks until your shoulders cave and you force him from his hiding place. 
“What?” he smirks into your jaw. “What do you want?” His hand sneaks its way under your pants, squeezing a palm full of your bare ass before slipping down further. “Fuck, you’re so wet.” He nips at your chin, fingers dipping into your entrance. “So messy for me.”
Your hands scramble for something to comfort from the onslaught. Wonwoo is already back between your breasts, humming around the flesh every time you shudder from his ministrations. He twists his fingers into your core, the noise loud despite the cover of your pants.
“Shit, shit, shit,” you rasps under the prod of his thumb against your clit. Rather than succumbing to the mind numbing assault, you jolt into action. 
Wonwoo angles his hips just right when he realizes your aim. It’s too easy to force your hand under the fabric and find him hard and waiting just like last night. But unlike last night, you don’t have to hide. And the freedom dooms him from the start. 
Anchoring one hand on his chest, you push until he’s upright. He’s a wreck; eyes half shut behind the lens of his glass and lips a delectable shade of red. You pull your hand out of his pants and lap away the evidence of his arousal, delighting in the way a vein on his neck jumps when you give them a lewd suck.
Turning, you saunter down the hallway, shedding the rest of your clothes as you go.
“Coming?” you call over your shoulder, pinning Wonwoo in place as you bend to slip off your sweatpants, flashing him the barest peak of your cunt, before continuing to your room.
You don’t hear him following until you're at the threshold. A rush of footsteps and then he’s emerging from the darkness, eyes taking in your naked form. Wonwoo looks like he’s been starving and you’re the first meals he’s about to have in years.
Wonwoo pins you to the wooden door, one hand finding your jaw while the other bats your legs wide before roughly swiping at your sensitive clit. 
“You’re such a fucking tease,” he rasps into your ear.
Two fingers tap against your lips. Without hesitation you present your tongue, lapping the digits like you would his cock. Wonwoo watches with so much heat in his gaze you can’t stop a moan from slipping free when he puts pressure on your tongue and causes you to drool. He makes to pull away but stops when you grab his wrist and force him in place.
You suck his fingers deeper, eyes never leaving his the entire time. The pressure against the inside of your cheek leaves you reeling. Pure desire inks your brain and makes you desperate. 
Both unsatisfied, you let Wonwoo go. He’s quicker than you imagined. A force full grab of your jaw tugs you away from the door and into his mouth. The slide of his tongue against your own verges on pornographic but you're too busy focusing on the same fingers you’d just been sucking on splitting your folds before stretching your walls. 
Slowly falling to his knees, Wonwoo shoulders under your leg until your pussy is splayed for him to enjoy. The trail of hot kisses across your hip do nothing to comfort you. Not with the swift pace of his hand.
“Are you gonna do something or just stare all night?” 
The strip he licks up your core, tongue flat and heavy, makes you double over. Wonwoo remembers exactly what buttons to push to shut you up, overwhelming you with his mouth and hand buried in your cunt along with the hand continuing to tweak your nipples. 
“Fuck,” you mewl. “You can do—shit—better than that.”
The raze of his teeth on your clit is punishment enough for the outburst. But Wonwoo loves to prove a point. His pace becomes slower than ever, still hard but the tempo of his hand is reserved. It makes you hot all over. Choking on air, your brain melts and bones jelly under the lashing of Wonwoo’s tongue. 
Just as he finds the perfect angle, he falls back.
You snap. “What the fuck?”
He doesn’t answer. Wonwoo pulls away his hand and rises to his feet. Once nose to nose, he smiles. The sudden change is disorienting. Even more so when he leaves a gentle peck against your cheek and heads for the bed.
Perching on the bed, he leans pack on to his palms and presents his lap like a throne. “Come here,” he commands.
Scrabbling into his lap, Wonwoo catches you off guard. His hands strike across your waist as he leans back, shuffling you up his chest until your knelt over his face.
Your hands steady on your thighs, brushing his. In an uncharacteristic act of sweetness, he tangles his fingers with your own. 
The gesture leaves you reeling. “Wonwoo?”
His hands curl around your thighs and force you down onto his waiting tongue. There's no build up, only hunger. Wonwoo points his tongue and uses it to trace hard circles around your clit before suck so harshly you buckle in half. 
If Wonwoo minds he makes no show of it. Instead, he pins your tangled hands in place and licks deeper, tracing anywhere he can reach. Every muscle in your body jerks from the sloppy way he eats you out.
Sweat blooms on your skin. Each breath stilted and you’re drooling when cracks open an eye to take him in. The flex of his biceps when you lurches against a vulgar suck of his mouth. Even the mop of his hair buried between your thighs makes you whimper. 
One hand leaves your, reaching around and pinching your ass punitively.
“Work for it,” he hums into your pussy.
Not needing to be told twice, you rock where your bodies meet. Your free hand tangles in his hair and uses the leverage to grind against his tongue. Wonwoo’s hand continues to follow the curve of your ass until he’s able to tease your entrance. 
Foul noises radiate from where he works you, from his hand and your mouth. Spit and arousal smear on his cheeks and you can feel it against your thighs bracketing his head.
You want to see his face. The heat in his eyes when he’s focused on something, focused on you, making you cum. You pull Wonwoo’s hair again.
“Focus,” His muffled voice is thick and broken, like he’s getting off just as much as you are.
Whining from the vibration against your clit, tears threaten to fall from how tight you pinches your eyes shut from the onslaught. 
“Wonwoo, I’m—” you sob. “Please, fuck. Please, I’m gonna cum.”
The world holds its breath. And then it shatters into a million pieces.
You’re whole and not. No more than a supernova. Whine after whine claws its way out of your lungs until you choke on them.
Wonwoo pays no mind, continuing to work you until you try and fall away. But he expects it, moving with you and staying between your thighs like you haven’t cum at all.
“Too much,” you gasp when he spits on your ruined cunt.
Flashing the pink of his tongue, he sneers your own words back with acidic sweetness. “You can do better than that.”
Tossing your legs over his shoulders, he digs in again. 
It hurts. Wonwoo isn’t easing you into a second orgasm. If anything, he’s bullying it out of you. 
And you take it.
“I can’t,” you plead, dipping your chin to meet his eyes and beg your case. “Too much, Woo. I—”
Wonwoo leans back and slows the three fingers buried inside you. The hand pressed to your stomach rises to cup your face, his thumb tracing the bow of your lips. 
“You can.” He coos. His thumb slips into your mouth a second before he spits on your clit and uses his soiled hand to slap.
The scream ripping its way out is silenced by the digit in your mouth. Wonwoo dives back in, taking zero mercy. Your hips buck into his mouth involuntarily and the bastard laughs.
“See? You want it so bad, don’t you baby?” 
His thumb pops from your mouth but not before you manage a quick nip. The look on Wonwoo’s face tells you it was the wrong answer to his question.
Your breath falters when the faintest amount of pressure ghosts along your throat, waiting for your okay before committing. 
Spreading your legs wider and tucking your hands behind your knees, you nod, “I want it.” 
Pupils blown wide, Wonwoo goes rigid before exploding into a frenzy. 
He sucks your folds into his mouth, hastily laving you in his spit before forcing another finger inside your tight hole. 
“C’mon, you can do it for me. Give me one more.” He demands while coming up for a breath. “Such a fucking mess for me.”
Your hips snap harshly, nails digging into his wrist resting on your chest. “Oh my god, oh my god!”
Feet planting onto the mattress, you rock against his face with more force than before. A cacophony of vulgar squelches and desperate whines fill the room. He squeezes until stars dot your vision from the lack of blood flow only to release with a rush of lightheaded bliss. Using your hands to tug at your sore nipples, you finally give Wonwoo what he wants.
“W-Wonwoo, so good.” You pant. 
He cleans up the mess the same way he made it but with a gentler touch. It doesn’t stop the quivers of overstimulation from wrecking your nerves but he whispers an apology for each one and rubs it into the crease of your thigh when you wince.
With a final peck to your clit, he releases you.
Wonwoo’s chest heaves, eyes drooping in lust or fatigue, you don’t know. Maybe both. When he rises from his spot between your legs, you scramble for his face. Mouths meet in a slow kiss, nothing more than a languid press against one another and a few deep breaths. You taste yourself but ignore it. You’re too tired, too sated, to care. 
You try and palm his cock, eager to return the favor but Wonwoo shifts away. He crowds you up to the pillows, pulls you into his chest, and sends you off to sleep with his lips against your forehead.
You simply lay there, curled around one another until sleep claims you.
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489 notes · View notes
hollyoongs · 6 days
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THANK YOU, JAKE ✦ S.JY
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pairing tasp!jake x news intern!fem reader
summary when you told your friend about the challenge that your boss put you on in order to work on the company, which was taking a picture of the amazing Spider Man, Jake makes it come true.
genre fluff
warnings both of them like each other, cameo of Jay and Ri-Ki, everything is NYC and I tried to make it short for the other one that I'm planning to make it in the future <3
a/n I can finally get this one up here, I'll do the second part with smut, but Jake's fluff is already needed in this profile. This is my last little present for my em @cmoundiamante (and worst of all, it's late, but I blame my country for that :p), but I'm glad to finally publish it. I know you had an amazing time on your birthday and I want you to look at this little gift as something that can cheer you up for everything you've been through, I'll be there for you and I hope you like it very much. shout out to the editor of THIS Jake Spider-Man, my jupi @glitterjay and also to my lovely moot @ja3yun, this is the spidey!jake I was preparing ;)
wc +3.0k
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It was one of those days where everything seemed to conspire against you. As you trudged through the bustling streets of New York City, your camera bag heavy on your shoulder, you couldn't shake off the feeling of exhaustion that clung to you like a stubborn shadow. The sweltering heat of the summer sun only added to your irritation as you made your way to the Daily Bugle, where you were interning as a photographer.
Your future boss, Mr. Jameson, was notorious for his gruff demeanor and demanding nature. Today seemed to be no exception, as he barked orders at the staff, his voice reverberating through the newsroom like thunder. Your friend, Jay, was massaging his forehead, and you couldn't help but go there first. He looked up to see you and gave you a tired smile.
"Rough already?"
"And it's not even 9 a.m." Jay spat in anger, and you opened your bag to give him some of the jelly you always carry around. He took them slightly happier, opening as he started talking again. "He's putting stupid challenges on everyone here. Rumor has it that he's getting jealous of the other newspaper company since they took the #1 place from us."
"Well, wish me luck." You braced yourself for another onslaught of criticism as you approached his desk, hoping to avoid his wrath.
"Ah, there you are," Mr. Jameson said, his tone dripping with impatience. "I've got a special assignment for you."
You felt your heart sink at his words, knowing that whatever task he had in store would likely be arduous and thankless, just like Jay said. But you nodded, steeling yourself for whatever was to come.
"I want you to get me a picture of Spider-Man," he said bluntly, his eyes narrowing in a challenging glare.
Your jaw nearly hit the floor at his request. Spider-Man? The elusive vigilante who swung through the city was a hero to some and a menace to others. Getting a photo of him in action was no small feat, and you knew it.
"But how am I supposed to…" you began, but Mr. Jameson cut you off with a dismissive wave of his hand.
"I don't care how you do it; just get it done," he said firmly. "And make it front-page material, or you'll be out of your ear."
With that ominous warning hanging in the air, you felt a wave of panic wash over you. How were you supposed to capture a photo of Spider-Man when you could barely catch a break in your own life? Desperation clawed at your chest as you racked your brain for a solution. He looked at Jay, and he was with his mouth open. She was simply screwed.
The hours passed slowly, and 7 o'clock of the night finally reached, which made you fly to the only place you find comfort at the moment. Shim Jake's place. Feeling all the weight on your shoulders, you sigh as you knock on the door. His aunt opens before your knuckles can touch the door.
"Hey darling… Oh no, bad day?" like a button, your eyes got watery, and she hugged you. You hold your tears as she loses you in the warm hug. "I'm going to buy food. Jake and Ni-Ki are in the room. I know what you like."
"You are truly the best, May."
"I know, darling. Go." She left you, and you entered the house, going directly to the Australian boy's room. You knocked, and you heard things falling.
"Who's it?"
"Who else, Ni-Ki? Come on, I had a bad day, and I need you guys."
"Hold on a second!" A few seconds passed, and Jake was the one who opened the door, his messy hair, sweat pant and big white shirt and hsi big glasses that made him look more handsome than usual in front of you. "Hey lensgirl, what's wrong?"
You went for a hug, this time with tears going down and your crying getting noticeable.
Jake was taken aback by your sudden display of emotion, immediately wrapping his arms around you in a comforting embrace. "Hey, hey, it's okay," he murmured softly, rubbing your back soothingly. "What happened? Why are you crying?"
You sniffled, trying to compose yourself as you pulled away slightly. "It's just… work," you managed to choke out between sobs. "Mr. Jameson… He wants me to get a photo of Spider-Man for the front page, and I- I don't know how to do it. I'm so screwed, Jake."
Jake's expression softened with understanding, though you had no idea just how much he truly understood. "Hey, it's okay," he repeated, guiding you to sit on his bed. "We'll figure it out, okay? You're not alone in this."
Ni-Ki, hearing the commotion, poked his head out from behind the doorframe. "Jake can help," he said, and you could feel Jake getting tense. You looked up to Ni-Ki.
"What?"
"Jake knows Spider-Man. You could get the picture." You open your eyes as your eyes travel again to Jake's.
"Since when?!" You practically shouted at him, and he gave a shy smile, which you loved, but the thought of him being friends with the hero and not telling you was in your mind.
"I'll tell you right after you clean and calm yourself. You know what? Go to the bathroom." As you were protesting, Jake obligated you to go inside. The boys went straight to the room and locked it, Jake basically punching Ni-Ki for opening his mouth.
"Are you being serious?! Why did you say that?"
"You know I'm fond of her, and I can't stand her crying. And also, I'm doing you a favor; you've liked her since forever, and with this, you can make a move. And you know that she loves Spider-Man. I consider this a win."
Jake's heart raced as he processed Ni-Ki's words. He couldn't deny the truth about them. He had harbored feelings for you for what felt like forever, but he never found the courage to act on them, and because of the sudden powers he got after being bite by a spider, the dangers were too much to the point he would rather die with the secret in order to keep you save. That's how much he loved you.
But at the same time, he couldn't help but feel the weight of responsibility settling on his shoulders. Keeping his identity as Spider-Man a secret was crucial, and now, with you unknowingly on the brink of discovering the truth, he felt the pressure mounting.
Taking a deep breath to steady his nerves, Jake turned to Ni-Ki. "Okay, okay," he muttered, running a hand through his hair in agitation. "But we have to be careful. She can't know about this, Ni-Ki. It's too risky."
Ni-Ki nodded solemnly, understanding the gravity of the situation. "I won't say anything else, I promise. Only you have to stay cool, you get to nervous around her. I'm surprise you're not right now" he assured Jake.
"Because someone open his mouth"
"Stop crying and be grateful. I pulled a move that you couldn't make for the past 4 years."
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It has already been two days since that weird conversation and the explanation of Jake being friends with Spider-Man. It was so odd to you, but the most odd thing was when he told you by text, "I will send you the address where he's going to be."
And here you were, going into the alley for him to arrive. It was getting late, and you could feel your heart beating fast when you saw a few guys in there, cigars in their hands, their auras as bad as how they looked.
"Hey, sweetheart," one of them said, which you ignored completely.
Your heart pounded in your chest as you ignored the leering comments from the men in the alley. You clutched your camera bag tightly, feeling a surge of unease as you realized just how vulnerable you were in this dimly lit space.
Just as panic threatened to overtake you, a familiar sound cut through the tension—a whoosh of air followed by the distinct thud of impact. Before you could even process what was happening, Spider-Man descended from the shadows, landing gracefully in front of you with his trademark agility.
"Hey there, fellas," Spider-Man said, his voice tinged with a hint of amusement. "I don't think the lady appreciates your company."
The men scoffed, eyeing Spider-Man with a mixture of defiance and uncertainty. "And who are you supposed to be, huh?" One of them sneered, taking a step forward. You started taking your camera out of your bag, setting it up for a good shot, and to make it take as many photos as you could as both men focused on the hero.
Spider-Man's demeanor shifted subtly, his stance becoming more assertive as he addressed the group. "Let's just say I'm the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man, and I'm not too keen on seeing people hassle innocent bystanders, especially this pretty girl," he replied, his tone firm.
The men hesitated, sizing up the masked vigilante before them. But before they could make another move, Spider-Man sprang into action, his movements a blur of speed and precision. With calculated strikes and well-timed dodges, he swiftly incapacitated the would-be troublemakers, leaving them groaning on the ground in defeat.
You watched in awe as Spider-Man effortlessly dispatched the thugs, a surge of gratitude welling up inside you. Once the immediate threat had been neutralized, Spider-Man turned to you, his masked eyes meeting yours with a sense of warmth and reassurance. You took your camera and looked at the pictures, so many good enough to be front page material.
"Are you okay there?" he asked, his concern evident even behind the mask.
You nodded, feeling a sense of relief wash over you in his presence. "Yeah, I'm okay," you stammered, still trying to process the whirlwind of events that had just unfolded before you. You felt some drops of water falling on your face, looking up at the sky and wondering if more drops were falling. "Damn it, it's raining."
"Then let me take you out of here." without a warning, his hand wrapped around your waist, both of your bodies covering the camera. "Hold on tight lensgirl," you frown at the nicknmae. There's only one person that could call you like that, but you couldn't think much of it as you held dear life to him as he swang you around places.
You ended up on your apartment building—in your balcony, to be more exact—and the roof kept both of you off the water, you went inside for a moment to leave the camera in your bed and return. He was hanging from the ceiling as you watched him, forcing you to believe that everything that happened in the past ten minutes was not a dream.
"Don't you want to stand up? So you don't get dizzy."
"I like it this way. Don't worry. Are you okay?"
"Yes, I am. Thank you."
"No problem, that's my job."
"Because you're a hero," the masked guy sighs in front of you. making you feel slighty sad for it.
"Some people don't think so." and it was true, all the fake rumors to paint him as a bad guy made you think about how much free time all this people have to just tear the life of someone who really wants to help.
"But you are, at least I think that."
"It's nice to have a fan as pretty as you."
"Let me say thank you."
"But you already did."
"I meant the trip, not you saving me." You approached him more, and the sound of the rain at the back made the scene more lovely. Then slowly took the mask, only showing his lips. You were surprised by the familiar shape, making your mind go wild. No wonder Ni-Ki and Jake got nervous; no wonder Jake was the only one that could help you with the hero; and there's no wonder why he called you "Lensgirl."
Jake was Spider-Man.
Leaving your thoughts behind, you place your lips on his. The kiss was electrifying, a rush of emotions coursing through both of you as your lips met in a tender embrace. Raindrops fell softly around you, adding to the surreal moment as you shared this intimate connection with the masked hero who had just swept you off your feet—literally.
As the kiss deepened, you felt a sense of clarity wash over you. Everything suddenly made sense—the mysterious conversations, the unspoken tension between you and Jake, even the strange nickname he had given you. It was all because he was Spider-Man, the hero you had admired from afar, and now he was the man whose lips were pressed against yours.
Time seemed to stand still as you lost yourself in the kiss, the world fading away until it was just the two of you tangled together on that rooftop balcony.
"Thank you, Jake," you whispered, your voice barely audible over the sound of the rain.
"Wait… how?"
"You let out "Lensgirl," and I've stared at your lips too much to actually know the shape," he finally dropped himself, taking off his mask completely, revealing his red cheeks and normal shy demeanor.
He actually searched your face for any sign of rejection. "I know it's a lot to take in," he said softly, his thumb brushing against your cheek. "But I wanted to tell you, not in this way; I've got to learn to also shut my mouth up. I… I care about you more than you'll ever know."
Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you reached up to cup his face in your hands, the weight of everything finally sinking in. "I care about you too, Jake," you admitted, your voice trembling with emotion. "I just… I never imagined…"
Before you could finish your sentence, Jake leaned in to capture your lips in another kiss, sealing the unspoken words between you with a promise of something more. 
With a smile on your lips and love in your heart, you leaned into Jake's embrace, letting the warmth of his touch chase away the chill of the night as you watched the city skyline glitter in the rain.
"Please write a good news about me."
"Trust me, you'll sure have it, Spidey."
"I just realized that I've to thank Ri-Ki, damn it."
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423 notes · View notes
jk97 · 2 months
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Unprofessional Attraction | TWO
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♡ pairing - yunho x afab!reader ♡ word count - 18.2K ♡ warnings for this chapter - fluff and explicit content (mdni), teacher/student relationship, other members are featured, halloween, drinking alcohol, perverted!yunho, bigdick!yunho, pet names (angel, pretty, smart girl, etc), pinch of sexting and unintentional phone sex, office head (giving and receiving), fingering, praise, unprotected sex, riding, jealousy, blackmail, good ol' porn with plot ♡ A/N - my goodness thank you for 1000+ notes ♡ sorry it's so long but I appreciate the patience!! the school semester timeline in this is kinda unrealistic but ignore that, fictional romance has no bounds LOL. This might end up 4 parts instead of 3, we'll see what my brain figures out.
Part 1 | Part 2 | ?
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“I’m starting to think you’re kidnapping me.”
For the past 30 minutes into this drive, something Yunho had initially assured you wouldn’t take long, you’ve been alternating between staring out of the window at your surroundings slowly becoming unfamiliar and the small bouquet of flowers sitting in your lap. Even as you gaze at him inquisitively, he doesn’t move his attention away from the road. When he doesn't answer for longer than what you deem appropriate, your brows flicker up in amusement. That gets his attention.
“Oh, right, that’s a bad thing,” he clears his throat dramatically, though you know he’s just poking fun at your impatience, “I suppose I could ruin the surprise if you’re getting restless.”
“No, I’m not! I’m just very curious why it’s so far away,” you stop him quickly. That’s absolutely a reasonable question and Yunho decides to give you the answer.
“I know I said I wanted to be discreet but…” he pauses and sighs, shaking his head, “I just can’t. Figured the next best thing would be to just leave our area for the day and do something fun around strangers instead. I just want us to be comfortable, I guess.”
“You really weren’t kidding about being thoughtful, huh?” You hum softly, hand finding his own sitting on the gear shift. He allows you to thread his fingers between yours without hesitation.
“I meant everything I said, yes.”
“I guess I can be patient then,” you feign annoyance, rolling your eyes. 
The earnest laugh that your silliness evokes from him fills the car and makes the atmosphere even warmer than before. The gift of flowers had already charmed you upon getting into his car, so you can’t imagine that there’s something even better waiting for you at the end of the drive. As much as you’d love to know what this man had settled on within the last few days, you allow yourself to indulge in the feeling of being whisked away and surprised instead. In the meantime, you busy yourself again by humming to his radio and continuing to survey your surroundings passing by quickly the further you drive.
There are many things Yunho is good at and he’s a very intelligent man, but cooking is just not one of those things. Because of this, he generally eats out instead of bothering with making food. This is particularly one of the reasons why he never had an issue when it came to eating dinner with you outside of his home. He supposes if he wants to be a proper and worthy bachelor, he should learn one of these days not to add too much salt to soup, or how to properly fry an egg without burning it to a crisp. Today’s decision to take you both to a cooking class is motivated by those circumstances. Sushi shouldn’t be that hard to master, right?
It begins easily enough. 
Each group has an individual station, and the class starts with a simple seaweed salad as an appetizer. He makes sure to follow all the instructions to a T, his only deviation being adding a dash of red pepper flakes because he likes spice. Yunho’s already so used to you asking for a taste of his food that he immediately goes to share his final product without you even asking.
While you’re still mixing your own he beckons for your attention, holding out a bite with his chopsticks, “Open.”
This is something you’ve done before, yes, but only a few times. It’s a bit more embarrassing though while doing such a thing in front of other people, and he can’t help but notice how you can’t look him directly in the eyes while obliging him. You’re so cute when you’re shy.
“How does it taste?” He asks before you can even get to chewing, but he’s a bit nervous that you might spit it out before he does.
When you do get to chew and swallow, he’s surprised to see your eyes light up, “Wow that’s delicious, Yu!” 
Asking him for another bite inflates his ego just a pinch too much, but he can’t help it when you’re praising him for his work. Maybe to hide his inability to cook anything else he’d simply make you seaweed salad for the rest of your life. Yeah, that sounds nice… He tries to suppress the confident smirk tugging at his lips and hypes himself up for the rest of the lesson. After everyone in the room has wrapped up that portion of the lesson, the instructor moves forward with beginning the sushi crafting.
“I’ve been meaning to ask, how did you meet your friends?” You inquire in a low voice while the instructor carries on about how much rice is an appropriate amount, clarifying, “Mr. Park and Mr. Choi.”
“I met both in college, but I met Seonghwa first,” he muses, “I was a sophomore and he was a junior, and we both happened to choose the same music elective that year.”
“What the hell is a linguist doing in a music class? Felt adventurous that year?”
“I’m quite the singer actually,” Yunho reveals with a confident smile, but his arms cease their rice flattening when he hears you try to stifle laughter. His brows crinkle as he peers over at you with a prominent pout tugging at his lips, “What, you don’t believe me?”
“No, I do, it’s just–” You give him a once over. “I’m imagining this angelic voice coming out of you and it’s really cute.”
“Angelic…” he muses, then turns back to flattening his rice and smiles to himself, “I guess I’ll have to show you one day and you can determine that for yourself.”
“I’d love that, actually.”
The instructor announces that next you’ll be slicing up salmon and avocado to put inside your rolls. You and Yunho work diligently on splitting the filet of salmon provided between each other to see who can do it best and follow her lead once more. 
“Continue the story,” you whisper to him once the instructor gives the last of her enthusiastic pitches on how to glide the knife through in one stroke for each piece, “What happened after music class?”
“Well, we became friends after pairing up for a duet project… and then we met San the following year after he hired Seonghwa for tutoring in history.” Yunho pauses for a moment to put an immense amount of concentration into his first slice, which still definitely ends up way too thick. “He did things like that on the side for money sometimes. Put up posters in the cafes and everything.”
Even though you’re also concentrating, you nod so he knows you’re paying attention. Unlike Yunho, you seem to have picked up on the cutting technique pretty quickly. His eyes keep flickering back and forth between your work and his, and he huffs in dissatisfaction.
“Sheesh, that was quite some time ago,” you state absentmindedly.
“Excuse me, are you calling me old?”
“Possibly.”
For the nonchalant jab at his confidence, Yunho nudges your cutting arm mid-slice and causes you to abruptly cut the current piece in half. The flabbergasted look on your face and the way your mouth drops open at a loss for words makes him giggle.
“I’m so sorry beautiful, it’s these old brittle bones,” he feigns remorse, lips pulling into a dishonest pout when you glare at him, “Can never keep my balance these days with them, you know?”
“Maybe they’re also the reason your slices look as big as filets,” you quip back, “Might as well throw those on the grill, right?”
Yunho’s pout turns genuine. You only apologize because he looks like a kicked puppy, and you both agree to let you cut the salmon while he works on the avocados instead. It doesn’t take long before you’re finished placing the necessary ingredients onto your rice and following the instructor's words on how to successfully roll it all together. This is something that Yunho is actually able to do decently, and he marvels at the way he’s got a genuine sushi roll in front of his eyes made from his own hands. Moving forward, his mind is consumed with cutting it into perfect bite-sized pieces when you tap his shoulder.
“Hey, do you like soy sauce on your sushi?”
“Sometimes, why?” He replies, and when he turns around to peer down at you he’s met with a pair of chopsticks holding up something for him to try. 
You smile in place of instruction, but he opens his mouth without even having to be told to do so. Unlike you, he doesn’t mind holding eye contact while you feed him. It feels intimate even with strangers around you. Dozens of butterflies manifest in your stomach and go into even more of a frenzy when he sighs in contentment. He’ll be nice and pretend he didn’t see the way you swallow the lump in your throat. 
That’s when you notice you put just a little too much soy sauce on his piece, and your thumb casually swipes the excess from the corner of his mouth. It’s an action that should be helpful and innocent, but you put your thumb in your mouth to lick it clean without even thinking. He absolutely takes notice. Every time Yunho thinks he’s got the upper hand in wooing you, you make him lose his cool so easily.
“Your face is red. Was it too salty?”
Yunho clears his throat and shakes his head hastily when he sees you’re genuinely concerned. He really wants nothing more than to kiss you at this moment, but that would have to wait until you both are alone. The rest of the class goes by quickly when tasked with making a different sushi roll and some strawberry-matcha ice cream for dessert. Yunho thinks he might see a hint of disappointment on your face when things come to an end and you have to take off your aprons. 
“There’s a park not too far away from here if you’re okay with walking for a bit. Burn off some calories?” Yunho proposes when you both finally leave the building, and you nod eagerly. For the second time today, you link fingers and begin your venture.
The walk ends up being a bit longer than you both expect, but it doesn’t take much time to find a secluded spot where you could have some privacy when there. It’s fairly brisk today, so when Yunho removes his jacket to grant you a clean place to sit on the grass, you immediately tell him you don’t mind sitting on the ground at all, that you’d rather him be warm. He assures you that he’s not cold at all (a big fat lie) and doesn’t mind getting a little dirt on his pants, so you give in and situate yourself on his jacket. The silence between you both is comfortable, filled with the sounds of people playing somewhere nearby and birds occupying trees in the branches lingering over you. You debate about striking up more conversation about his past, but he beats you to the punch on speaking.
“I haven’t done this in a while you know,” Yunho suddenly divulges, “Have you?”
“Gone on a date?” When he nods you shake your head, “No, actually. Haven’t met anyone worth going past the texting phase, to be honest... Well, besides that one day.”
You feel a bit guilty when still having to lie about that phony date that led to your first dinner together, but it’s not like it’s something you can change now. 
“As bad as it sounds… I’m glad you got stood up that day,” his eyes fall to his lap when he mumbles this. He hopes that doesn’t come across negatively.
The corners of your mouth tug into a smile at his honesty. Maybe one day in the future you’d gain enough courage to tell him it was a lie. You wonder if he would genuinely be upset… Though, you suppose you’re thinking way too far ahead into the future for those kinds of worries. 
Instead of dwelling on it, you simply say, “I am too, Yu.”
“You’ve been using that nickname more often,” he points out after a moment of thought, “Any particular reason?”
“It’s just a habit when we get alone… helps me separate you from how I know you on campus,” you reply and glance over at him apprehensively, “I’m sorry, it probably sounds too childish, right? I can stop.”
“No no, I prefer when you call me Yu,” he admits, palm digging into the grass as he leans back on his arm with a sigh, “Everybody else calls me Yunho, Mr. Jeong, whatever.”
“Am I not in the same category as everybody else?”
“Not at all,” he professes without any hesitation, lolling his head to the side to finally peer back at you. The soft smile pulling at the corners of his mouth makes your heart stutter. 
“Duly noted,” is all you’re able to mumble back. When his eyes go from surveying your face for any unease at his bluntness to zeroing in on your lips, you can’t help the heat manifesting in your cheeks.
“Are you comfortable if I kiss you?”
“I feel like we’re way past that step, no?” You quirk a brow.
“Was more so asking since we’re technically in public, but I suppose that’s also true,” he laughs softly, leaning over and pressing his lips to yours before you can reply to him with any nonsense.
His lips are always so soft and plush, and it’s so juxtaposed with the way he kisses you with intensity and clear intent. He’s never really hesitant of himself when you both kiss, never thinking twice about selfishly stealing your air, despite any anxiety he may have about your situation inside of himself. He’s a bit too enamored with the way your tongue still tastes like strawberry matcha to realize that his free hand has dipped under the hem of your dress, fingertips creeping and leaving a trail of heat as they inch further and further up your thigh. As much as you’d love to indulge him, your nerves won’t let you, no matter how secluded your spot might be.
Your hand wraps around his wrist gently, giggling onto his lips as you warn him, “Don’t get any funny ideas. Like you said, we’re in public.”
“You’re absolutely right,” he sighs reluctantly. He can’t deny that he’s slightly embarrassed for even letting his hands move with a mind of their own. There’s just something about you that makes him feel like he doesn’t have to think so hard when you’re around, and it makes him lose his senses in the process. Everything just feels natural. An affectionate smile plays at his lips while he rubs the material of your dress between his fingers, “It’s getting pretty late, the sun is setting.”
“Let’s head back before the traffic gets too crazy then, yeah?” You propose and he nods silently before pushing one last peck to your lips.
The drive back to your apartment feels much quicker than it did leaving, and this stirs up a hint of despondency in your stomach. It feels like your time with him has ended just as soon as it started, but you suppose you should appreciate the full day you did get to spend with him. Still, you know something like today won’t happen that often, and it makes you a bit sad the closer you get to your building. 
Like the gentlemen he is, Yunho walks with you up to the second floor and to your door, hands shoved deep in his pockets while he debates on how to say bye. He doesn’t know if he should kiss you goodbye when anybody could be watching now that you’re back in the area. Then again, he supposes even walking you up to your place was risky to begin with. While he’s debating over these things in his mind, you’ve already opened your front door. He doesn’t even realize you’re staring at him until you call his name, to which he’s subsequently sputtering a bunch of apologies after being caught overthinking. 
“Why don’t you come inside for a little bit,” you hum, more as an instruction than a request. 
Yunho’s tongue prods at the inside of his cheek in rumination over the various prospects of what exactly coming inside could entail, but the way you’re gazing at him with those beguiling eyes is already luring him in before his thoughts can get the best of him. His feet move on their own, taking tentative steps into your abode with an overwhelming feeling of excitement pooling in his chest. The sound of the front door being locked is followed by you coming up behind him and wrapping your hands around his torso. It’s very sweet, the way you bury your head in his back and squeeze him in an endearing hug.
“I really enjoyed today,” you tell him as best you can with your cheek still squished against his back. You feel the warm chuckle he lets out reverberating through his back. He wishes he could reciprocate your hug, but it seems you’re intent on staying behind him.
He settles for saying, “Thank you for giving me the chance to fix things, ____. I just wanted to show you that you mean a lot to me.”
Then, there’s a beat of silence, and he wonders if everything is okay. Maybe that was too much…
“What’s your day look like tomorrow?” you suddenly ask softly, and Yunho's eyes fall to watch as your hands drop and ghost around his belt. 
His Adam's Apple bobs anxiously before he answers in an equally soft voice, “Sundays I… I usually prepare my slides and lesson plans for the week. Meet with the boys in the evening after I’m done for some drinks…”
Your hands gently undo his belt as he’s talking, humming “ mhm ” every few words to let him know you’re indeed listening. 
“Maybe you should leave in the morning then,” you propose, fingers gently popping open the button of his pants. You can feel him take a deep inhale the moment you finally gently tug at his zipper.
“Yeah, maybe I should.”
That night, Yunho learns several things about you.
He gets to learn the ins and outs of your gag reflex. You have a slight affinity with deep-throating your partners, and he falls in love with the view of you even trying to with tears in the corners of your eyes. The way your lips stretch around his thick cock… It’s an image he stores in his mental album of you for later use.
He gets to learn about the tattoo you have hidden on your back as he’s fervently driving that same thick cock of his into you from behind. He traces it delicately with his fingers before reaching forward to grab at your hair, pulling it back for some well-needed leverage while his sweaty thighs smack against yours over and over.
He especially loves learning that you like being talked through things, and he’s already made you cum twice by utilizing his voice. Rinse and repeat, the way your greedy cunt squeezes and milks him for all he’s worth when says, “Remind me, what’s my name?” And when you moan out that nickname that he likes so much, he replies with, “That’s my smart girl. Looking so pretty, you feel so fucking good around me. You gonna cum for me again, pretty? I can feel you squeezing, go ahead and give it to me.”
Needless to say, it was a very long and educational night. 
In the morning, Yunho’s desires get the best of him, and he manages to inconspicuously steal a pair of panties from the laundry pile in your room, shoving them into his pants pocket while you’re in the bathroom. He makes sure to take a plain-looking pair, something he’s sure you won’t notice is missing. There’s a slight feeling of guilt once he’s nearly home, though. 
It’s okay, it’s just a one-time thing, he tells himself over and over, I’ll return them the next time I’m over.
“YOU WHAT?”
Yeosang slaps his hand over his mouth but, to be fair, his reaction is entirely involuntary. He had promised you he would remain calm, but how could he with this kind of information? You repeatedly sputter that, while you may be in the back of the library, he is very much going to cause a disturbance if he doesn’t shut his fucking mouth.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he exhales, leaning in with eyes as big as saucers, “You came in too hot, I need the foreplay first.”
“Don’t phrase it like that, good Lord,” you groan.
“What else am I supposed to say when you tell me you’ve fucked him and none of the lead-up? Fuck, did he even take you out to dinner first?”
“Of course he did,” you defend him quickly, “We’ve spent a lot of time together actually. Mostly dinners and things of that nature.”
“I’m mostly shocked that it took you this long to fuck him. Seems like you hooked him fairly easily.”
“Well…” you cover your face just enough to where an eye can peep out between your fingers, and Yeosang eyes you curiously, “No, that wasn’t the first time…”
“Obviously you hate me, ____,” your best friend immediately states, clasping his hands together, “This is the only suitable explanation of why you wouldn’t tell me this until now. I literally begged you for info like an idiot weeks ago!”
“I’m sorry! It was just—”
“Nah, denied,” he holds a hand up to shush you, “Worst best friend ever.”
“Yeo, I explicitly told you progress was being made. Did I not?”
“You failed to tell me that it was being made between your legs,” he snaps in a whisper-yell. “How many times?”
“Only twice, okay? You haven’t missed much, I promise.”
Yeosang sits in silence with his head perched on his palm, seemingly marinating in all of the information he’s been slammed within the last 10 minutes. There are very few times you’ve seen him at a loss for words, but this moment surely makes the list. 
“I didn’t think he would cave that easily, honestly.” He finally speaks. You release all the pent-up air in your chest that you hadn’t realized you were holding in waiting for his words. “What did you do to him ____?”
He pleads for the final time for you to start from the beginning and explain, and you finally grant that to him without getting too into the nitty gritty. You’re a bit bashful recounting some of the lengths you took in setting this all up, but Yeosang simply nods in understanding at each one. If anyone was going to be supportive, it was always going to be your frontline cheerleader. 
After taking in the full story, he thinks it’s only proper to ask, “What’s your plan beyond this point?”
“Well, exactly what I said to you a long time ago,” you tell him frankly, “If all goes well, I want to be in a relationship with him after I graduate. I don’t see him saying no to that with the way he’s already treating me...”
Yeosang notices the way your demeanor has changed with this answer. Previously, the humorous lilt in your voice was much more prominent. Those same sentiments and that joking attitude seems to be long gone. He can see it in your eyes, the way you’re taking this more seriously. He wonders what Yunho could’ve possibly done to turn you into such a romantic over him. The answer to that would simply be: everything. 
“You know, I wasn’t one hundred percent sure if you were telling the truth about wanting things beyond sex at first,” Yeosang tells you honestly. He may be a goofball, but he’s able to be serious when needed. And despite the foolishness leading up to this statement, his voice is earnest when he says, “I can see this working out for you as long as you’re careful.”
“I hope so, Yeo. I really do.”
On the following Wednesday, you and Yeosang are both seated in Yunho’s class wasting time on your phones as class is set to start. Usually, Yunho is very punctual with starting because his lectures are so long, so you’re curious as to what the hold-up is today. You peek over your laptop and spot him talking to a guy you’ve never seen before and, as far as you know, you’ve never recognized him in this class. They nod at each other before you see Yunho clear his throat.
“Everyone, I want to take a few minutes at the top of the hour to introduce someone important,” Yunho begins, loud enough that everyone can hear and cease chatter. “I’m sure some of you recognize him from other classes. For those who don't, however, this is Wooyoung Jung. He’ll be serving as my teacher’s assistant for the remainder of the semester.”
“I’m happy to be able to help any way I can,” Wooyoung proclaims to everyone with a sweet smile before turning back towards Yunho, “And thank you Mr. Jeong for allowing me the opportunity.”
You wonder if this is something Yunho truly chose or whether it was sprung upon him; it’s fairly late into the semester for something like this to be introduced. He does have quite the workload though, you muse. Surely with new hands to help, he’ll manage his time a bit better. You wonder if that’ll mean you get to spend more time with him while Wooyoung is taking care of things that would usually dig into his free time. As if Yunho knows you’re thinking about him, his eyes find yours while Wooyoung is taking his seat at the front of the class. Something about the ambiguous gaze he gives you when others are around makes you itch for his attention even more than normal. He doesn’t ever fail at making it look natural, like he could be looking at anyone for nothing in particular. Those little moments keep things fun.
The answer to your previous queries would end up being that, yes, this was something Yunho chose himself. When presented with an opportunity for a student specializing in his major to offer assistance after being accepted into the Work-Study program later than most, of course he said yes. San had been telling him since he began working at the university last semester that he should take on a TA while he got acclimated to teaching, but Yunho had convinced himself that he could do it all on his own. While Yunho had been pretty open about how terrible his workload was, considering he has 3 class sections, he was never completely honest with you about how much stress this caused him on a day-to-day basis. 
He was excited that this would free up some of his previously stolen time and take some pressure off of his shoulders. He was also looking forward to being able to spend some of that newly open time with you, especially. That’s why when you unknowingly throw a wrench into those intentions before leaving his class Friday, he has a hard time keeping the dejection he feels from showing on his face. 
“It might be a while before we’re able to hang out again,” you sigh, “Midterms are stressing me out but I don’t want to psych myself out right before I graduate—”
“____,” Yunho places his hand on your head tenderly, silencing your rambling in the kindest way he can. He doesn’t like seeing you so stressed out. “Focus on yourself and do your best, okay? Don’t lose sight of the finish line. Being prepared and passing is much more important than us seeing each other.”
You gaze up at him with some of the prettiest dispirited eyes he’s ever seen. How is he supposed to remain selfless when you look like this? Of course, he’d love to be selfish and fill your time; he knows you’re a smart girl so you’d have nothing to worry about for his midterm at least. He’d take care of it. Nevertheless, you’re still a student of others as well, and he has to extinguish that greed as fast as it ignites.
“Thank you for understanding.”
“Of course, pretty. You know where to find me whenever you’re ready,” he smiles and gives your cheek a teasing pinch before opening the lecture hall’s door, “See you next Wednesday.”
As expected, two weeks of studying and taking tests consume your entire schedule. Yunho is not much better, and he’s consistently cursing at himself for making the test he gave out to all of his sections so long. Even though he wants to truly know if his students understand all the material thus far, he forgets how time-consuming making the test so extensive can be for him as well. Having Wooyoung around helps quite a bit, even though he feels slightly guilty for putting such a large amount on him when he becomes overwhelmed. Wooyoung never complains though, so Yunho is grateful to have gotten a TA who actually does the work and does it well. During this time, you both try to keep regular contact, offering words of encouragement to each other and discussing what you should do to celebrate when you get your passing grades back. 
Directly following the end of midterms week is the weekend before Halloween. Jongho had sent out a text the week prior that he was holding a party at his parent’s rental house, which is currently unoccupied for the season. The man had friends from several different circles because he was involved in many different extracurriculars outside of his studies, so you were certain this party was going to be fairly large.
Naturally, as best friends do, you and Yeosang decide to wear matching costumes for his party. Procrastination had gotten the best of you both with midterms added into the mix, however, and the best thing the two of you were able to come up with before the weekend was a sexy nurse and doctor duo. Simple, but effective.
You both rode along with Hongjoong, who had chosen to be the designated driver for the evening. It’s uncomfortably brisk outside, too brisk to be dressed like you are; however, upon opening the door, you can barely get two steps into the property before Jongho stops everyone in their tracks. His hands hold out exactly what you knew would be coming before even arriving at the house. It’s Jongho’s signature thing.
“You know the rules,” he says with that mischievous smile of his you know too well. 
You must take one tequila shot to be admitted past the door.
All three of you quickly take the shot glasses from your host and toss them back without even giving cheers. The burn of alcohol and the robust taste of bitter poison stains your tongue. It hurts a little on the throat on the way down and you salivate to adjust to the pain, immediately making a face of disgust. 
“God, it never gets easier,” you cough.
“I’ll grab you something easier,” he laughs while rubbing your back, “Same flavor as usual?”
“Please and thank you.”
As promised, he comes back with two bottles of honeydew melon soju in tow and some fresh shot glasses. It doesn’t take too many heavy-handed shots before laughs and giggles begin to bubble up in your throat for no real reason. You forgot that you didn’t put anything on your stomach before leaving the house, and it’s becoming very apparent every time you feel your head shoot up to outer space and come back down just as quickly. That’s a non-issue though because Jongho’s catered this party with enough food to feed a small village. Anyone watching you stuffing your face with Halloween-themed carbs and sweets is the last thing on your mind. Round two of shots is followed by the intense feeling of needing to dance. Even while intoxicated, you’re perceptive enough to notice various sets of eyes on you whilst dancing with your friends. Every so often, an owner of a set will make his way over and try to chat you up. Like clockwork, you say the same thing to every new person:
Sorry, I’m not single.
You say this sentence so many times in the span of an hour that it begins to feel real. Then again, isn’t it already? As far as you’re concerned, you were spoken for until Yunho said otherwise. You wonder if he feels the same about himself... When you start having a small internal existential crisis about whether Yunho thinks the same, that’s when you know you’re approaching your limit for the night. You step away to grab some water and begin the process of flushing your body. When you make it back to your circle, things have changed. Mingi, with his girlfriend in tow, lets everyone know that they’re going to find a private room before taking off up the stairs of the house. You know it’s irrational and probably motivated by the alcohol in your system, but you can't help but feel jealous that they can do something like that so easily. If you could see Yunho and drag him to a room anytime you were horny, you’re sure a lot of your life’s problems would be solved.
The moment they’re gone, Hongjoong leans in and quickly lets you know he’s also going upstairs to join some other acquaintances in karaoke. You’re just about to panic until Yeosang tugs on your arm to beckon for your attention.
“Going to the bathroom if you want to join,” he leans in and proposes, “I really need to pee.”
Everyone seems to have wanted to go their separate ways, but he’d never leave you alone all by your lonesome. And especially not with alcohol in your system. You grab onto his hand with a nod and let him lead you through hoards of people to the closest bathroom. Luckily, it’s empty and there’s no wait. It’s not long before you’re both locked away from the sound of music thumping from behind the door. While you search through your pockets for your lipgloss for reapplication, Yeosang jets for the toilet.
“I’m drained,” you mutter, “Being bombarded by strangers.”
“You showed up to the party looking like that and expected not to catch some eyes?”
He’s right, honestly. The red and white romper you’re wearing leaves nothing much to the imagination with the way your asscheeks are hanging out of the bottom or the way your breasts are squished together at the top. Your makeup and hair, your stockings and heels, everything just exudes pure sex appeal. All topped off with a little hat and a play syringe you’ve been using occasionally for “alcohol shots”. To be fair, your friend group mainly consisted of men, and many men found it intimidating to approach you with them always surrounding you in settings such as this. People must be feeling especially bold tonight with as much alcohol being drunk, you muse. He giggles to himself because he knows that typically you’d entertain some of the suitors for fun, but you seem devoted to the one man on your mind these days. 
“Bet you didn’t send your boyfriend a picture of your costume though, huh?” Yeosang teases, slurred words morphing into a laugh as he finally pulls down his pants. The subsequent sound of him peeing draws a laugh from you.
“He’s not my boyfriend,” you scoff and nudge him in the back. He nearly loses his footing. 
“Stop, you're gonna make pee go everywhere!” How he is even still peeing with such ferocity is beyond you. This doesn’t stop him from adding in quickly, “I dare you to show him. It’s only fair, right?”
Alcohol-induced pride is something dangerous, but you’re never one to back down from a dare, even when sober. While he’s finishing up, you find your text thread with Yunho and send him the image you and Yeosang had taken together at the beginning of the party.
[Y/N: 1 image]
[Y/N: Matchingg with my besssttieee]
Coincidentally, Yunho is home and lonesomely watching YouTube videos when his phone pings. Oh wow…
He replies with several texts in a minute—one making sure to compliment you both, but the rest shamelessly thirsting over the way your costume is so lewd. Many other men may have made passes at you and offered plenty of flattery throughout the night, but none of them could make you get flustered as much as Yunho. This is the only man you care about hearing compliments from, the only man whose words matter. Maybe it’s that last bottle of soju making you so confident, but your hands move faster than your brain.
“Don’t turn around just yet,” you tell Yeosang quickly before pulling up your camera. You unzip your romper enough to pull one of your breasts out fully, squeezing it teasingly with one hand while the other takes a quick selfie. It’s a tad blurry, but it’ll do its job. After fixing yourself just as quickly, you give Yeosang the okay so he can wash his hands.
[Y/N: 1 invisible ink image]
[Y/N: Would you let me stick you???]
When he gets this notification, Yunho stares down at his throbbing cock already in his hand and laughs. He was already turned on enough by the other picture to pull it out from his sweatpants, but this? He’s usually not one to send nudes, but good God, he wants nothing more than for you to see exactly what you’re doing to him right now. Against his better judgment, he does just that.
[Yunho: 1 invisible ink image]
[Yunho: only if you let me reciprocate after]
When you uncover the picture, your breath catches in your throat: his hand is firmly wrapped around his aching, flushed cock. It looks as though he’s already been stroking himself eagerly, the way it’s glossy with lubricant and an angry shade of red. God, the things you would do to have him pick you up from this party and let you fuck him to your heart's content… Even though that could never happen, a girl can dream, so you decide you have to tell him exactly what’s on your mind. Yeosang’s too drunk to do his job of taking away your phone while you’re so many drinks deep. 
“Ready to go back?” Your best friend asks while drying his hands.
Holding your phone tight against your chest for privacy, you sputter, “Do you mind giving me a few minutes alone? I won’t be too long, promise.”
Yunho’s shocked when he sees your name come up on his phone for a call. He was beginning to get slightly nervous when you failed to respond to his attempt at sexting, but that didn’t stop him from staring at your photos and feverishly stroking his cock in the meantime.
“Hello?”
“Hello there, handsome,” you giggle, and Yunho immediately hears the intoxicated tremor laced in your words. 
“Having a fun night?” He asks with a laugh of his own, trying to refrain from breathing too heavily into the phone every time he squeezes his leaking tip with a little extra pressure. 
You’re too drunk to realize what he’s doing anyway, and you unknowingly feed into his journey toward an orgasm when you outright say, “Yes but… I want you so bad right now, Yu.”
Yunho’s breath nearly catches in his throat, and his face flushes bashfully as his hand glides faster up and down his cock.
His voice trembles a bit when he replies, “I wish I could make that happen for you, angel.”
“Well… you wanna know what I’d do if I was there?” You push further, closing your eyes and tuning out everything outside the door to focus on Yunho alone. He agrees promptly, head kicking back as he closes his eyes in the same way, tuning in solely to your voice. “Been wanting to ride you so bad lately. Keep imagining the way you’d sound when I bounce up and down in your lap… You make the prettiest noises, Yu, I swear.”
He physically swallows any of those aforementioned pretty noises trying to manifest in his throat, burying them deep in his chest before he responds with the only thing his brain can manifest.
“Is that so?”
“Yeah, but…” You lower your voice to a whisper, “Do you think I could make you cum all by myself, like no help?”
Yunho is so close, he can barely hold himself together.
“I bet you could. Just seeing you feel good while using my dick would be enough to, honestly.”
The tiny drunken giggle that tumbles from your lips goes straight to his heart, “I say we test that out then.”
“Just let me know when you want to and I’ll be more than ready,” he assures you, accidentally punctuating that sentence with a soft, “ Fuck .”
“____, Jongho’s looking for us,” Yeosang calls out through the door. “They’re about to play a drinking game or something.”
For some reason, the knowledge that you’re talking so filthy like this while anyone on the other side of the door could perhaps hear you pushes him over the edge. With his phone on his chest, Yunho presses a tight hand over his mouth to suppress any noise threatening to come out, instead heavily breathing through his nostrils as spurts of cum sully his abdomen.
You sigh, “My liver is being summoned, gotta go. Bye-bye, handsome.”
The call ends before Yunho can even open his mouth to reply, but that’s fine because he’s sure he wouldn’t have been able to come up with a coherent sentence anyway. He settles for dazedly texting you to let him know when you get home safely. The long and uncomfortably hot shower he takes to wash away the filth from his mind and his body leaves him feeling oddly refreshed. It might be because he hasn’t had a conversation with you not relating to the stresses of the previous weeks up until today. It’s silly that something so depraved ended up being the product, but God, does it feel fresh and exhilarating.
Now that midterm season was over and a good amount of grading had been taken off of his hands by taking on a TA, Yunho found himself with enough time on his hands to give his place a good cleaning. If he’s being completely honest with himself, he’s doing this to give himself more confidence in inviting you over again. It had been some time since he last had you there, but that was partially due to the treacherous state that it was in currently. You had been free from midterms for a week now, there were no excuses as to why he couldn’t spend private time with you in his place. The perfect opportunity arose directly after he accomplished his goal, when you mentioned in passing that you were one assignment away from being able to go out.
“How about you come do your work at my place instead?” he had offered, “I’ll order us dinner and we can relax together afterward.”
It didn’t take much convincing for you to end up on his doorstep half an hour later with your backpack slung over your shoulder. You’re so beautiful when you’re done up, there’s no denying that, but there’s something about you when you’re dressed so comfortably casual that makes Yunho get heart palpitations. When you look like that while lounging at his kitchen table, hands typing away at God knows what assignment, it just feels so domestic to him. You look like you belong there. He tries not to stare too much and gives you your space to work though, busying himself with some random medical show he pays no real mind to on Netflix while lying on his couch. Quite some time later, he hears you let out a hefty aggravated sigh. 
“Words are starting to blend together,” you murmur while rubbing your eyes. “Hate when this happens.”
“Take a break then, beautiful. Come sit with me?”
It started off innocent, it really did. 
Sitting curled up under Yunho’s arm in his lap has now entered the top ranks on your list of favorite positions to be in. It’s soothing, the way his fingers play with the frayed strings of your pants in between rubbing calming circles into your tense muscles. If you weren’t careful, you’re sure this man could lull you to sleep.
“I didn’t know you liked doctor shows,” you mumble against his chest. 
“I don’t,” he laughs, “I figured the girl who dressed up as a sexy nurse over the weekend would be interested.”
“Oh hush, you know Halloween is for foolishness.”
But, upon entering a conversation about Halloween, it leads to a conversation about your photo exchange. Yunho has been meaning to ask if he’s allowed to save that image for obvious reasons. Aside from it being sent while you were intoxicated, he also wants to be respectful about deleting it if need be. You reassure him that it’s okay for him to keep and use it whenever he likes, as you do not doubt in your mind he’d never let something like that slip from between you both. That’s when the phone call also comes up.
“Are you usually that horny when you’re intoxicated?” Yunho inquires, “Calling me up and talking like that was surprising.”
You sit up immediately, “I called you? You’re lying…”
“You don’t remember?” His brows hitch in surprise. 
“No, I don’t recall that at all,” you gaze back at him, dumbfounded, “What did I say?”
“Nothing much,” he lies, but he knows you’d never take that as an answer. Especially not when his cheeks are dusted in pink at you even asking.
“Please, tell me!” You nearly plead, “Oh God, was it embarrassing?”
“You really want to know that badly?”
The innocent nod you give him makes him give in. He remains focused on the TV to prevent himself from becoming too sheepish by looking into your eyes while recounting such words. Yunho is a bit more conservative with his words as he recalls your remarks about riding him. He’s unable to go into as much detail as you did of course, he doesn’t want to work himself up just thinking about it; moreover, he can’t even say some parts without fleeting thoughts of how he already jacked off simply to your voice telling him such things. It’s embarrassing to him how he lacks willpower when it comes to you, he’s a grown man for Christ’s sake. To be fair, you’re not much help. He doesn’t even notice how you’re toying with his sweatpants’ strings while he talks. When he finally tears his eyes from the TV and meets yours, the gaze you share has you finally moving from your spot.
Who knew Yunho’s living room couch was so comfortable on the knees? Surely not you, until yours are digging into it while you straddle his waist. It’s hard to focus on the way his lips are devouring your neck while his hands are simultaneously frisking every inch of your body he can reach. You don’t know at what point during the last minute you ended up with your joggers thrown a few feet away on the floor, or when he ended up with his sweatpants and underwear pooled around his feet. He can’t focus on anything else but the feeling of your bare cunt sliding back and forth over his cock, watching you teasingly smear your slick all over him with his mouth hung open. He can only take but so much of watching you work him up before he finally peers up into your eyes.
“God, you’re way too good at being a tease,” he sighs as he leans up to ghost his lips over yours. You can feel his little gasps every time you apply a little more of your weight on top of his painfully hard cock. He’s a patient man though, so he doesn’t mind letting you toy with him for however long your heart desires, “I’m not in a rush.”
“Maybe I’m just waiting for you to remind me how to fit it in me,” you joke, gasping as his hands busy themselves by massaging your sensitive breasts under your sports bra, “It's been a while since the last time, you know?”
The raspy laugh he lets out hits you right in your core, and even more so when he says, “You’re a very smart and capable girl, I know you can do it all by yourself.” 
The way he enunciates the last three words makes your core throb. When you finally lift your hips to wrap your hands around his length, his hands move from your breasts to your waist for support. You give him a few gentle pumps before lining him up with your sopping entrance. 
“There you go,” he encourages when you push yourself open on his tip with a needy moan.
You slide down his shaft gradually, inch by inch until you’re fully seated. The deep, shaky exhale you let out against Yunho’s neck makes him chuckle because you’re such a trooper even without any prep beforehand. 
“Give me a second.”
“Want some help?” He asks genuinely, massaging the plush of your thighs and chuckling when he feels you clench at the offer. 
He’d lay you down and take care of things himself if you wanted him to, as he’s never one to deny a pillow princess being the service dom he typically is. To his surprise, you begin moving your hips, lifting and sliding back down at a casual pace. His head kicks back and he sighs at the feeling of your warm walls swallowing him in and pushing him out, over and over. You can’t keep in the sounds of pure need and arousal that spill from your lips every time you feel his cock curve up and prod against that spot that makes your stomach do flips. When the sting from the initial stretch subsides, every glide feels breathtaking. You keep your head buried in his neck to focus on your hip movements instead, gasping and moaning in time with every sound of your ass striking his thighs.
You were right, he thinks, it had been quite some time since you both slept together that night of your first real date. Yunho’s been dreaming about that pretty cunt of yours since then—nearly daily—unable to match the feeling of the way you squeeze him with his hand, especially during the nights he works himself up enough to where he needs release. He didn’t want to seem too brazen or shamefully horny by reaching out and asking if he could show you more of what he could accomplish with that cock of his buried inside you, the sounds he wants to try and evoke. Nevertheless, he doesn’t want you to think that’s something that matters the most to him. 
Admittedly, the general nerves regarding your extracurricular activities with each other had subsided after the Halloween stint. Yunho gained a lot of confidence after that night. He previously felt guilty during midterm weeks because, even after he had expressly told you to focus on yourself, he was also so sure that there was plenty of midterm stress he could’ve helped you relieve, and vice versa. In many, many ways. Regardless, he decided to let sex with you occur naturally instead, such as last time. It was worth the wait though, if the way his teeth are sinking so deep into his bottom lip to stop himself from whimpering at this pleasure is anything to go by. 
“Fuck, mhm, just like that baby,” he hisses when you arch your back and begin rolling your hips against him, “Really gonna make me cum all by yourself, huh? Knew you were ambitious, angel.”
You feel yourself nearly gush with every word. This can’t be the same man who stands in front of you twice a week and talks about semantics, right? On the opposite end, how is he supposed to maintain any composure when the sounds of your sopping wet cunt sucking him in so easily are now battling the TV? Your arousal is so loud and it’s driving him crazy. He tends to firmly pinch at the meat of your bouncing ass and chuckle every time it elicits a helpless yelp from your throat, only to keep his antsy hands busy. Still, he makes an effort to let you do things by yourself, as you expressed.
“Yu?” you whimper into his skin a moment later, and he grunts to let you know he’s listening even if his mind is foggy with lust, “I wanna kiss you.”
Yunho’s heart nearly bursts out of his chest, cheeks flushing at how innocent the request is. His hand tenderly grabs you by the chin and leads your mouth to his while murmuring, “Stop hiding then, sweetheart.”
Time and time again, you’re reminded about how good of a kisser he is. There’s something addicting about the way he loves intertwining tongues and doesn’t care about being messy that turns you on to the highest degree. You can feel heat prickle over every inch of your skin when he pulls back your bottom lip with his teeth. When you begin to bounce faster and grow more eager to cum, Yunho’s hands finally grab underneath either cheek of your ass and begin to help you, hips rutting up in time with every quick hop of you on his cock. It doesn’t take long before his breathing becomes ragged, his own orgasm nearing, and you both break the kiss to gasp for air. Your hands grip onto his biceps when you feel your legs starting to give out from fatigue.
“I’m sorry I–”
“You can relax, sweetheart,” he pants, “Just a little more, I’ve got you.”
Yunho wraps his arms around your back, holding you steady and spreading his legs a bit farther apart before taking over and pistoning his hips into yours. The frenzied babbles of his name in his ear make his eyes roll to the ceiling. Your orgasm blindsides you entirely, hitting you right after a particularly sinful thrust directly into your G-spot. There's no time to indulge in the way you’re making some of the most euphoric sounds he’s ever heard himself pull from a woman because the feeling of your walls contracting and convulsing around his cock gives him the final push to finish himself. Right before he lets go, he lifts you off of his cock with strong arms and cum paints his t-shirt a few seconds later. 
“I say we go take a shower…” Yunho begins tentatively, reworking his thoughts after you both are breathing calmly again, “And then, we can order some food because I’m honestly starving. What do you say?”
“And where does finishing my assignment come in, hm?” You pinch his cheek.
“Ugh, you’re right…” he groans, “I’m sure there’ll be plenty of time before the food is delivered, right?”
“I’m not even looking at that food until my work is done, and I mean i—” Your voice clips off when he suddenly stands to his feet with you maintained in his arms. 
“That shower isn’t going to run itself then,” he counters, lips tugging into a large smile as he happily strides towards his bedroom with you in tow.
Yunho had informed you beforehand that this next week was going to be a busy one for him, induced by training workshops the university decided to spring upon a few colleges. The Dean of his particular college thought that it was a good idea to shove all necessary sessions into the first week of November. He apologizes multiple times every time he thinks about it. You know he shouldn’t have to ever explain his business to you—he’s doing his job as a teacher, which comes first and foremost—but it’s nice that he considers you when his schedule is in conversation. You tell him time and time again that he shouldn’t concern himself with what you may or may not feel about his unavailability. He was nothing but patient with you during midterms, and you were more than happy to reciprocate that now that the time has come. 
The first day you have class with him that week, you choose to stick back while everyone else is bustling to get out of the door. It doesn’t take longer than a couple of minutes for the room to completely empty, save for you and your teacher. Normally, his eyes would light up noticing such a thing, but today he seems to be drowning in fatigue with the way his face doesn’t even budge. That doesn’t stop you from heading to his podium with tentative steps while he pulls on his blazer and packs up to continue his schedule.
“Got a minute?”
“For you? Always,” he hums without even looking up. He’s in the middle of shoving the last of his things in his briefcase when you hold up a tied-up plastic bag that catches his attention.
“I know you have a loaded day, so I brought you lunch,” you break the news before he can question it. It wasn’t anything spectacular, but you’re sure it’ll be enjoyable to eat regardless. “Just wanted to save you from having to make an extra stop across campus.”
“You’re amazing, ____,” Yunho utters in a soft voice before taking the bag from you carefully. He’s having a hard time mustering up any kind of physical joy today so he hopes that, for now, his words can at least convey what he’s failing to provide otherwise, “I know it doesn’t look like it but I really do appreciate this. Thank you.”
“You seem tense today,” you point out while moving to join him on his side of the podium. “Did something happen?”
The lecture hall’s doors don’t have any slit windows for prying eyes, so you reach up and rub a comforting hand over the back of his neck. He closes his eyes and sighs. If there’s anyone’s touch that could cure his problems, he’s sure it’s yours. Still, he doesn’t want to make himself too comfortable with the location you’re in.
“You wouldn’t believe how many things are going wrong today. I also have to meet with the head of my department for a performance evaluation based on the midterm grades. Everyone generally did very well but,” Yunho massages the bridge of his nose to help collect his thoughts before continuing, “It’s only my second semester, so the impression I’m making with these kinds of things is very important. I know I have nothing to be worried about but it’s hard not to be anxious.”
“Making yourself sick with stress isn’t going to help either,” you remind him.
“I know, I know. I’m just ready for this week to be over.”
“Maybe we should go out of town again this weekend,” you muse, hand moving to squeeze his shoulder affectionately, “I saw online some fall festivals are happening that might be fun to check out. I remember you saying you’ve never been to one.”
He peers down at you, lips splitting into his first genuine grin of the day, “She takes notes in and out of the classroom, how cute.”
“Only when it comes to you. What do you say?”
There’s a knock on the doors, but before Yunho can muster any words to answer it, the owner comes in anyway. Upon entering in a huff, Wooyoung stops dead in his tracks. His eyes flicker between the two of you before he hitches a brow. You offer him a mild-mannered smile and pull your hand away from Yunho’s shoulder slowly so as not to seem suspicious.
“Good afternoon Wooyoung,” Yunho says so naturally, though you’re groaning in your head, “Did you need something from me?”
You know it’s ridiculous of you, but you’re starting to envy Yunho’s TA. Recently, you’ve come to realize that you hate how Wooyoung gets an immense amount of time interacting with Yunho daily, but it’s still never enough. There’s always something more he needs. You get it, he’s technically an employee to make your teacher’s life easier. That’s something you should be cheering on, right? Deep down, in the most selfish part of your mind, you’re just tired of people always interrupting and interfering in the minimal amount of time you have with Yunho on campus, even unknowingly. 
“I remembered I had some questions about your grading criteria for the recent essay that I needed some clarification on before leaving,” he says, and you don’t miss the way his eyes flicker at you briefly, “But if you’re busy…”
“He’s not. We just finished chatting about what’s due next class,” you answer for Yunho instead, much to his dismay. He notices the tone change in your voice, but as much as he’d like to resolve that, he can only watch you grab your bag. He’s slow to catch himself frowning before fixing his face in front of his TA. While slipping past the younger gentleman to finally leave, you make sure to call out, “See you Friday, Mr. Jeong.”
It takes everything in you to not give Wooyoung the finger to the back of his head, but you decide it’s best not to let such things aggravate you. Again, Yunho is a teacher and this is part of his job. You shouldn’t be so angry at his assistant for doing what he needs to do to make his life easier.
You and your linguist do end up leaving the area again that weekend to attend a festival together. This particular town is covered in thick colorful trees that have yet to lose their leaves. Along with the overwhelming smells over different smells of various food carts and so many people laughing in enjoyment, the entire scene does a number on Yunho’s brain. It scratches a deep itch he didn’t realize he had. Playing little games with you for prizes makes him realize he hasn’t had this kind of fun in quite a long time. 
Yunho’s shocked with himself when he asks if you both can take a selfie together in front of all the colorful leaves before leaving for the day. He’s been thinking about something like this for quite some time, a bit dispirited by not being able to savor memories in pictures like everyone else can. Realistically, he knows he really shouldn’t be offering such blatant evidence of your romance to be left on either of your phones. Texts can easily be manipulated and argued, but selfies with you both in them don’t lie. These kinds of thoughts still nag at him in the back of his head even while he puts on this goofy grin, chin affectionately sitting atop your shoulder as he snaps his first photo with you ever. He wishes he could put something like this as his wallpaper. Even if he could, in a world where peeping eyes weren’t an issue, he wonders if that would be too much. Do you like the people you’re involved with to be that mushy? 
He doesn’t have the luxury of overthinking about these things for too long before you’re pinching his cheek to bring him back to reality. Reluctantly, Yunho decides to let his brain rest and focus on the rest of the time he has left with you. He’s unable to stay the night or do anything intimate that evening because of prior obligations taking up the rest of his night, but that doesn’t stop him from boldly leaning over his center console and surprising you with a slow, romantic kiss while parked right in front of your complex. He knows he should care, but he can’t find it in himself to be bothered with the risks when he just wants to show you that he appreciates you helping him relax today before he has to depart. You hear him loud and clear.
The following week, Seonghwa finds himself seeking out Yunho’s office after packing up for the day. Yunho’s thumbing at his phone’s keyboard when the courtesy knocks come and nearly scare him, but grants permission to enter. 
“I thought you’d be gone by now,” Seonghwa marvels when he finds his friend still perched in his office chair. “Your classes are usually over early on Thursdays, no?”
“I had to rework my syllabus and switch modules around because of some issues getting through lectures last week. Completely slipped my mind that I still needed to revise my lesson plans and slides for tomorrow until this morning,” Yunho sighs, “If I go home it’s definitely not getting done, so I have to stay.”
His friend surveys the ways his cheeks are slightly flushed as he glances back down at his phone briefly and tries to type something quickly. Sure, it could be from frustration or exhaustion caused by his tasks for the evening, but something seems different in the way he’s fidgeting in his chair. 
“Who’s the lucky lady?” Seonghwa inquires out of the blue, causing Yunho to lift his eyes from his phone abruptly. He offers a knowing smirk when Yunho’s brows furrowed in confusion, “You’re smiling a lot more these days— kinda glowing. Seems like you finally made it out of the dry spell and got laid.”
Yunho subconsciously tucks his phone in his lap, unconsciously confirming Seonghwa’s suspicions.
“Nobody special,” he replies, finding this white lie to be more suitable than lying outright, “Nothing much I can say.”
“Well, where’d you meet her? You don’t talk to anyone when we go out anymore so it couldn’t have been at the bar.”
Yunho hesitates for a brief moment before saying the first thing that comes to his mind, “Tinder.”
“I thought you deleted that app a while ago,” Seonghwa’s brows crease.
“I redownloaded it a while ago out of boredom,” Yunho explains quickly. He knows he’s not the best liar, but there is quite literally no way he’s going to tell his friend the truth about this situation whatsoever. Now, he almost wishes he had just fully lied at the start.
“And you can’t tell me more about a Tinder match?”
“I just–”
“I’d understand if I was San, but someone you can’t even tell me about?” Seonghwa jokes, but Yunho can tell this question is not entirely unserious. 
He understands where his friend is coming from. Their relationship runs a bit deeper than Yunho’s with the third addition to their friendship, even though all three are nearly brothers now considering the years they’ve been friends. There’s never been something that Yunho hasn’t been able to come to him about, and they’re both generally always open with anything between each other. Needless to say, Seonghwa always knows when something is off.
“It’s not like that Hwa, just that it’s nobody worth discussing,” Yunho insists, “Who knows where it’ll lead, you know? I’ll let you know if it goes anywhere.”
Seonghwa’s eyes linger on him for a few extra seconds before he simply hums in acceptance. There’s a particular look in his eyes as he sips his water bottle briefly, though.
“Alright... I’ll leave you with these words, though,” he begins, and his voice is earnest. The one he usually uses with Yunho when he needs some tough love. “You’ve worked hard to be where you’re at now. Be careful brother, okay?”
Yunho maintains a fairly neutral expression when he nods, careful to neither confirm nor deny Seonghwa’s thoughts, whatever they may be. Seonghwa is perceptive but surely he’d never pin Yunho as the type to have gotten involved with a student. At least, he hopes.
“You finished for today?” Yunho asks while Seonghwa searches for his keys in his pockets.
“Yeah, thank God.” When he finally finds his keys, he adds, “Don’t work yourself too hard and stay too late, ‘kay?”
Yunho assures him that he definitely won’t, and they both exchange goodbyes before he finally departs the room. He’s pretty sure that he should be the only teacher left on his side of the building in their office right now. He finally brings his phone out of his lap and shoots out the text he was in the process of sending before his friend entered his office.
[Yunho: are you almost done for the day?]
[Y/N: I’m walking to our lot now actually. Everything okay?]
Fuck. Yunho feels bad for summoning you like this on short notice but he can’t take it anymore. His mind has been thinking about one thing all day, and if it doesn’t get taken care of now he might go insane.
[Yunho: if you’re not too far can you come to my office..?]
[Yunho: pls]
You cease your walking, redirect yourself towards his side of campus, quickly typing back to let him know you’re on your way. You don’t get to see him that often, so you’d never deny the opportunity to make that happen. On your venture back to the building, you end up crossing paths with Seonghwa while he’s on his way to the parking lot to head home. The ambiguous glint in his eyes as you both acknowledge each other in passing doesn’t strike you as unusual, but you do take notice. 
The building is fairly empty when you enter, which isn’t surprising for the time of day. You take your time going up the elevator and striding to his office since it didn’t seem like this request was an emergency. You also figure it’s fine to enter outright since he specifically requested you to come immediately, but the door is locked upon turning the handle.
“Mr. Jeong?”
You use formalities after you knock just to be on the safe side; you’re not entirely sure who could be hanging around this late. Moreover, maybe he’s locked the door because he’s meeting with someone else briefly before you. Before you can even unlock your phone to text him and make sure he still needs you before leaving, you hear the door’s lock click open. He opens it a second later, enough for you to enter.
“Never seen you lock your door before.” You’re more preoccupied with shoving your phone in the side pocket of your bag as you enter to notice anything off. “Something happen?”
“I’m really sorry, I just didn’t want anyone else seeing me like this,” he explains quickly. 
You’re just about to ask him what he means, but Yunho doesn’t give you much of a chance to get too far before he circles his arms around your waist and swoops down to capture your lips. It’s an immensely needy kiss, one you’ve never received from him before. Unintentionally, when the aching boner in his pants brushes against you, he releases a soft groan into your mouth– Oh! The sound of him locking the door sends a chill down your back. 
You manage to pull away from him and laugh, brows furrowed in confusion, “Excuse me, have you forgotten where we are?”
“My colleagues are already gone for the day,” he reasons while walking you backward over to his desk. His face is flushed as he implores, “I need you to do me a favor, okay?”
“Of course,” you nod quickly, gazing up at him with expectant eyes. Why does he look so…desperate?
This moment doesn’t feel entirely real. You’re becoming increasingly wet just thinking about the things you could do now that you two were alone in his office if what he says is true. You’ve both exchanged plenty of fleeting, amicable touches when out in public, ones that not many would think twice about, but you’ve never tried something like this when you’re still on campus. Yunho fails to finish his request, too captivated with peppering your neck in wet open-mouthed kisses while he physically coaxes you to sit on his desk. You have on a skirt today, and he’s so thankful not to have to deal with the extra work of pulling off jeans.
“What do you want me to do, Yu? I’ll do anything,” you insist and wrap your arms around his neck, beckoning for his attention, “Just tell me.” 
When he stares directly into your eyes, trying to gain enough courage to speak, you reiterate once more that he can ask you for anything.
“I want you to let me go down on you,” he finally spits out before sitting back into the chair you usually sit in when visiting. 
“But… Right now? Here?”
“If you’re comfortable,” he adds.
It takes a few seconds for the words to fully sink in, and you hesitate briefly before lifting your skirt against your stomach and begin lying back. Yunho scoots his chair forward with an immense amount of anticipation building in his chest; he wasn’t sure earlier if this would take more convincing, but he’s grateful it didn’t.
“That’s really all?” Your brows crease while propping yourself up on your elbows to gaze down at him inquisitively. 
Your confusion makes him chuckle. For someone so good with words any other time, he surely has some trouble expressing himself well when it comes to you most times. Today, though, he decides to let his desires spill freely. He gets ahead of himself and licks a warm strip up your panties, briefly tasting the arousal that’s creating such a big wet spot in the seat of the garment.
“I don’t think you understand ____,” Yunho begins, voice low as he pulls your panties down your legs. The rise and fall of his chest quickens with excitement once you’re bare and spread open by his hands. “Fuck, I’ve been dreaming about doing this again for the longest time.”
“Eating my pussy?” He nods hastily, pressing searing kisses onto the insides of your thighs. “Why didn’t you just ask?”
He sighs when you run your hand through his hair, coy eyes gazing up at you from between your thighs, “I didn’t want to be too forward about it. How do I properly beg you to suffocate me?” 
“Just like that,” you laugh, but that’s cut abruptly by him roughly yanking you by your thighs closer to his face. As much as he’d love to entertain the rest of this conversation, he’s too impatient when you’re laid out in front of him like this, all wet and ready for his mouth. He flattens his tongue against your cunt and licks another long stripe upward, the initial taste making him sigh. The breathy moan you let fly at the brief contact makes his dick twitch in his pants.
“Been touching myself to the thought of these thighs around my head,” he admits, repeating the action but putting a little extra attention on your clit, “I was so hard today that I couldn't even stand up during my last lecture. You did that.” 
You would crack a teasing joke about Wooyoung having to do his job for him, but any words lingering in your head are stolen the moment Yunho buries his face in your cunt, nose prodding at your clit. He licks and laps messily at your heat like some famished gentlemen consuming a meal for the first time in days. The obscenities that spill from your lips amongst cute, helpless whines only make him nod his head. He wants you to learn—good and well—that this is something he’s self-admittedly very talented at and always ready to do if you ever find it within yourself to ask him. If you didn’t learn that the first time he briefly ate you out, you sure were going to learn now. Yunho’s tongue finds itself buried as far as he can manage in your hole, pushing in and out and savoring the way you taste. 
Your hands fly to your mouth because, even if Yunho is sure that you both are alone, you still don’t want the sound of you falling apart on his tongue seeping through the door with the way you’re progressively getting louder. He doesn’t mind you suppressing yourself, he’s set on filling the silence himself. The sounds of him slurping and sucking and kissing are so loud when bouncing against the walls of his small office.
“I love the taste of you,” he groans against your heat, sending vibrations against your sensitive cunt. You gasp and go to close your legs, to move away instinctively, but Yunho is too quick. His fingertips dig deep into the meat of your thighs as he makes an effort to keep them open, refusing to let you squirm away. “Let me finish this time,” he says, voice stern and brows furrowed.
God, that commanding voice he rarely uses could make you cum on the spot. Embarrassment flushes your face when you feel a new wave of arousal from those words gush and drip down your skin. He’s not going to let any of that go to waste though, sparing no time getting back to his ministrations. You don’t even realize that after a while you’ve begun to grind yourself against his face. He feels like he’s in heaven, his hands pulling and encouraging your hips forward as if silently saying yeah, keep going, just like that.
When he feels your legs become more tense, he decides to thrust two fingers knuckle-deep into your cunt and latch his mouth onto your clit, set on abusing that spot inside of you that will finally give him exactly what he wants. He ignores the ache in his jaw because every yelp and whimper spilling from your lips spurs his endurance until he finally hears his favorite words.
“Y-Yu, m’gonna cum,” you sputter before he feels your thighs close in over his head. He doesn’t mind this time, this is right where he wants to be when you tip over anyway. 
Yunho lets out one last groan of his own onto your clit before he feels your legs go rigid, a signal he knows well now. Your back arches off the desk and he indulges in the feeling of you bucking against his face. He swallows everything you have to give him, mouth open and jaw slack as you tremble through your orgasm. It takes you what feels like forever to let go of his head, not like he’s complaining. When your legs go limp, Yunho slumps back in the chair with a huff. He’d get lock-jaw multiple times a week eating you out if you let him. He supposes this is something he should suggest eventually.
“You’re so hot, it’s unbelievable,” he heaves, staring at the mess he’s made of your cunt. There’s slick and cum and spit and everything in between ruining his desk, but he can’t find it in himself to care about the cleanup right now. When you’re finally able to sit up and breathe properly, he grins at you with that messy mouth of his, “Thank you, seriously.”
“Let me give you head too,” you offer eagerly, though you’re not even sure your knees are strong enough for that right now. To your surprise, Yunho shakes his head. “Please, I want to reciprocate!”
“You don’t have to,” he replies instead, finally fully gaining his breath back. The pout prominent on your face could make him melt into a puddle, he feels so bad but…
“But you deserve to cum too—”
“I… did already, ____,” he divulges and bashfully covers his face before you can see his cheeks flush with heat. You slowly glance down at his crotch and your eyes go wide. Yunho has indeed cum completely untouched, right inside his pants, as evident from the large wet spot soaking through his brown slacks.
A man who loves eating pussy so much he gets off just from your pleasure…
You push his arm away from his face and pull him in by his cheeks for an endearing kiss, one that you hope shows your appreciation and adoration. 
“I’ll take care of you another day,” you promise him against his lips upon breaking. Regardless of the embarrassment coursing through him at the moment, he nods in acceptance. Anxiously walking to his car with his briefcase pressed firmly against his crotch to hide the aftermath of committing various sins in his office after finishing his work for the day is not something he ever expected to do, but somehow it still feels gratifying all the same.
It’s around this week that Yunho begins to sit down and seriously start examining his feelings. A quiet night in his home where he’s alone leads him to decide to sort out the swarm of thoughts he’s been accumulating in his mind for the last couple of weeks.
There’s no doubt in his mind that you both share a connection he’s never experienced with another woman before. When this all first began, although he explicitly let you know that he genuinely likes you, he initially wondered if maybe that was coming from being so attention and touch-deprived for some time. That maybe he was latching onto something because you filled a void, a subconscious selfish attachment to you to satisfy the things he lacked. None of that ended up being true, not even close. You both had spent a considerable amount of time exploring this thing… he supposes that’s where the dilemma comes in. What is this “thing”? He knows things are complicated considering the circumstances; but, are you both technically dating, just without the official title until that resolves itself? You hadn’t necessarily made that clear. What if you found someone closer to your age who made you feel the same way as he did within that time? Someone who you could be normal with and not have to sneak around or hide to enjoy. 
This is where his selfishness comes in.
He thinks about how he would indeed be jealous and perturbed if he even saw you with another man like that, even if it makes your life easier. He doesn’t want to even think about you giving another man the same heart palpitations or sweaty hands he gets when he’s around you. He doesn’t want anyone else on that campus to know what it feels like to kiss you. He doesn’t want anyone else to know how good and fulfilling it feels to be the object of your desires. It’s been nearly three months of dates, spending time together, and learning the ins and outs of each other (in all five senses and beyond). How could he not feel infuriated if that were to happen? 
That’s when it clicks for Yunho: he’s fucking in love with you. The moment this loud thought crosses his mind, Yunho’s chest tightens in fear. The last time he thought he felt this way about a woman, she hurt him in a way that took him some lengthy time to heal from. And, as he always has to remind himself, you are not just some woman. You’re also his student. This isn’t as simple as unmatching someone on Tinder because things didn’t work out, or blocking someone after a heartbreak. Though, the more he thinks about that word — student — the more he realizes it doesn’t matter anymore. You are much more than that. And soon enough, that word would no longer be in your vocabulary anyway. The only thing he cares about now is that you end up his officially at the end of the day. He was going to do whatever he could to make the rest of your semester smooth and stress-free, so you both could be happy together when it’s over. 
And, as if you know you’re being thought of, Yunho’s phone buzzes with a text from you asking if he’s asleep. He debates with himself about whether he should bite the bullet and ask if you can both talk about things in the near future, but he ultimately decides against it. For now, he’ll indulge in the way you call his phone before he can even type a response and tell him that you want to fall asleep to his voice.
Some days later, you find yourself knocking on Yunho’s office door in the early afternoon. Unlike some people, you wait until he answers with a confirmation to enter. 
“Good afternoon,” he beams after realizing it’s you, wiping his hands clean with a napkin.
“Ah, I’m just in time,” you chirp with clasped hands when you spot his empty tupperware. “I was worried I was going to interrupt your eating.”
“Wouldn’t have mattered anyways, pretty. You’ve seen me eat many times.”
“You deserve to eat in peace at least once a day like everyone else,” you reason while sitting down across from him as usual, “I sprung this meeting on you last minute anyway.”
“Speaking of which, I’m still quite confused about why you wanted to come here for this,” he replies while spinning his chair from side to side, “I told you my home is always open for you, especially for things like this.”
“This” being discussing your final paper. The same thing that put you right into his lap in the first place.
“Just felt a little nostalgic I guess,” you grin, adding in a quieter voice, “And maybe a little jealous too.”
His brows furrow, “Jealous?”
His confusion is expected, as you’re sure he hasn’t paid attention to much of the interruptions you’ve experienced while with him the last few weeks on campus. It’s not simply Wooyoung either, but everyone who gets his attention on campus when you have to stay away for one reason or another. The way other women on campus look at him or speak to him, unaware that he’s already devoting his attention to you. It eats at you a bit sometimes. 
Yunho may be greedy but you’re much greedier, as if that wasn’t evident enough by the things you did to attract him in the first place. Even then, he’s never failed to oblige any of your requests, whether that be with his endearment, his time, or his… assets. He deserves everything in the world, and you can’t wait to give that to him when the time arrives. For now, you’ll behave to the best of your abilities.
“Don’t mind me, I’m just rambling,” you deflect, “Seeing you in your element is just nice, that’s all.”
Yunho’s curious about what’s going on in your mind but he decides not to pursue further answers. 
“So, what do I have the pleasure of helping you with today?” 
The apples of his cheeks are even more prominent today as he smiles while asking this. You know he loves his job, but you’re sure he doesn’t get this much glee during office hours with anyone else. 
“Last session at your house we talked about my analysis section and I remember you telling me that I was overthinking, but I’m still second-guessing myself on some of my points. I guess I just need to run some things by you to be one hundred percent sure I’m in a good direction.”
“You’re almost as bad as me,” he declares. As the self-proclaimed King of Overthinking, he’s the only person allowed to say such a thing to you. Still, it makes you pout.
“To be fair, we both know this is not my best subject, so this final might be more important to me than any of my others,” you confess. This is partially true; a small part of you wants to impress your handsome linguist by showing him a final product worth reading. 
“You know I’d take care of things regardless, right? You don’t have to stress about that.”
“I appreciate that, but I want to earn this grade genuinely,” you clarify. He lets you know he understands, but you want some extra reassurance when you say, “Promise me you’ll grade me genuinely, okay?”
“I get it. I promise pretty lady,” he guarantees you with a soft, affectionate smile. “I know I tell you all the time in the most inappropriate scenarios… but I mean it when I say you’re a smart woman. I know you’ll do fine.”
If he could see you right now, Yeosang would surely be laughing at you for being such a lover-girl and telling you that you’re an absolute idiot for passing up an automatic A+ on your final, but you never genuinely pursued Yunho for that kind of leverage anyway, regardless of the initial jokes. This was something you genuinely hoped Yunho was aware of when it came to communicating your feelings. 
As always, he takes all the time you need to help you with a list of things you want a second opinion on, sources you want to make sure are up to par, and everything in between. He thinks it’s cute when you pull out your little checklist named “Things To Ask Yu”, and diligently check each off as they’re completed.
A relieved sigh leaves your lips the moment you check off the final thing on the list. You both meet eyes for a brief moment, and the look donning his face is something oozing with pure adoration. You hold his gaze for what feels like forever before glancing at your watch. You’re making good time, it’s been almost an hour.
“When you look at me like that, it makes me want to throw away all my responsibilities and stay here all day,” you mumble.
He lets out an airy chuckle, “Am I keeping you from anything in particular?”
“I do have a class in about half an hour.”
He stretches his arms over his head with a grunt, “Sounds like we should end things for the day and meet here again in a couple of days then, Miss Nostalgia.”
“Well…” You trail off as you stand to your feet and make your way to the office door. 
Yunho watches your fingers lock his door before you stroll back over to his side of the desk. Something stirs in his gut as he looks up into your eyes when you finally reach him, calculating the way you gaze back at him playfully. The small mischievous smirk playing on your lips… God, he just knows he’s in trouble. He turns his attention toward his laptop when you sit yourself on top of his desk right beside him.
“Well?”
“Remember how I said I would take care of you at another time?” The feeling of the edge of his desk sinking into your thighs elicits a soft sigh while you recount that day, as if him eating you out like a Christmas dinner wasn’t already ingrained into your mind. “This seems like a moment where that would be fitting.”
“Do you remember where we are?” He mimics your statement the last time you were both intimate in his office, in the same cadence and everything. His fingers delicately click at his mouse as he tries to think of anything else other than your thighs peeking out of that pleated skirt you’re wearing, directly next to his hand.
“If I remember correctly, that didn’t matter last time…”
“The circumstances were very different,” he immediately counters. 
It’s true, to an extent; the timing was more on par for solitude. Regardless, he knows he sounds like the biggest hypocrite at the moment, even more evident by the roll of your eyes he catches out of the corner of his. He leans back in his chair and runs his hands through his hair. Sometimes he wishes he was more adventurous, less concerned about the consequences, and more accepting of the thrill of things. When he’s thinking of these things, it’s not even for his sake, but yours. He can’t handle the thought of you losing your degree due to his selfishness. And yet, he can’t help the arousal building from those thoughts about your mischievous side. You’re able to pull that side out of him so easily.
“And yet, you’re hard,” you say quietly when your eyes fall to his ever-so-inviting lap, a blithe little chuckle following. Subconsciously, he covers himself over his slacks. “Are you scared of getting caught even with the door locked?”
“____, it's 2 PM and we're in my office with many people passing by every minute. Not to mention my other students who could request me at literally any time,” he explains with a flustered smile, “This is immensely risky, you know that very well.”
“But–”
“You also know very well I’m extremely bad at being that quiet with you,” he interrupts your attempt to plead your case. Only then does he roll his head to the side and give you this look with low hooded eyes that finally make you glance away. His sentiments make goosebumps lace your skin because— fuck —yes you know he didn’t like being quiet. That was honestly an understatement. The heaving, moaning, and endless praise were only the start of what you could pull from the man during your escapades. 
You ponder for a brief moment, contemplating just letting it go, but end up pursing your lips and resorting to those famous eyes you give Yeosang when you want something unattainable.
“Please Yu, just let me give you a good blowjob. It'll be quick and quiet, I promise.”
He just can’t say no when you look at him like that, so he sighs, “I guess…”
“I also have an idea.”
Yunho is not sure what he initially expected when those words came out of your mouth, but surely it didn’t include the way your hands slip under your skirt and tug your panties down your legs. He’s sure his entire face is a deep shade of scarlet when you hold them out for him. It doesn’t help that they're visibly wet. 
“Maybe this can help you stay quiet, you know?” You suggest this while motioning to your face. He understands, of course, but he feels like this will just make things worse. So much worse. It’s confirmed when he feels his pants tighten from merely holding them in his hands. Still, he agrees and nervously pushes his chair back. After sinking under the desk, Yunho pulls his chair forward with enough room for you to sit on your knees comfortably. At least there was no way you would be seen if something strange were to arise.
Undoing his belt is one of your favorite parts, the anticipation visible in his ansty hands when he doesn’t know where to put them while you work it off. Your fingers tug lightly at his pants zipper before you dip your fingers past the hem of his waistband and pull them down quietly. He makes sure to lift his hips a little for you to slip them past just enough. You take one glance at his slightly flustered face before you pull his length from out the hole of his boxer briefs. It’s so hard that it hurts, leaking a copious amount of precum and making quite a mess.
“There are people outside the door,” he voices his nerves again at the last minute, peering at the shadows of feet passing the door, and then back down at you. 
“Didn’t know you had such an exhibitionist kink then,” you poke fun at him in a whisper, noticing how much he’s twitching once the words leave his lips. A teasing laugh slips from your lips and he groans in frustration, his empty hand moving to cock to stroke himself lazily.
“I do not have an exhibitionist kink,” Yunho snaps back with a huff. His cheeks are so flushed with chagrin, and it amuses you because if he really was that scared, he’d simply tell you no. He’d turn you away with that stern voice he rarely uses and suggest a different place and time. But Yunho wants this as much as you want it, despite what his mouth may say in the meantime.
“Ready?” You remove his hand and let a long string of saliva fall from your tongue onto his tip, just enough for lubrication. Then, you place your hands around his shaft and start stroking him yourself, mixing the spit with his dribble of precum. “You seem pretty turned on by the idea of being caught, Yu.”
The endless string of soft gasps and strangled noises of air coming from him as you work your hands on him just the way he likes is enough to drive your pride up the wall. There was always something different about how you touched him that he’d never be able to fulfill himself. He’s indubitably addicted to you.
"Shit, ___–”
“Shhhh. Unless you’d prefer to get caught?” You quirk a brow curiously as you increase pressure on him so he can’t supply an answer. Instead, he kicks his head back and lets out a soft, satisfied moan that sounds similar to your name. You follow that with a tsk! and shake your head disapprovingly. “My mouth hasn’t even touched you and you’re already a mess.”
He lowers his eyes to meet yours with a pointed glare and a chill runs down your spine, “Taking your sweet time is not helping.”
You go to taunt him again but can't even finish the first word before his free hand rakes through your hair and pushes your open mouth down on his cock instead. Yunho twitches and throbs under you with a low, constricted grunt while you clutch his thighs with your nails. He’s in love with the way you look up at him so innocently, your plush lips wrapped around his length and tears prodding the corners of your eyes at the sudden intrusion. It amazes him how you’re still able to smile, eyes half-lidded as if he had just blessed your mouth.
“I’m sorry, I got ahead of myself… Can I?” He sighs out, implying letting him use your mouth as he sees fit. 
The hum you release around his length and the way you relax your jaw confirm his request. Yunho holds you gently on either side of your face, thumbs brushing your cheeks tenderly before guiding you up and down his cock at a leisurely speed. Occasionally, he accidentally prods at the back of your throat and elicits a choked moan. He whispers his apologies each time even though he has nothing to be sorry about, but it’s just a habit. He winds his hand in your hair and pulls his cock out a bit to focus your mouth on his tip, bucking his hips in short, hasty thrusts and reveling in the way it draws sloppy noises from your mouth while you seal your lips around his tip to keep from making things too messy. The panties pressed to his face with his other hand aren’t doing much to repress those grunts that come from deep within his chest.
“Feels so good,” he pants softly from under the fabric, lips fixing to whimper, “Am I going too fast?”
You moan around his length once more, shaking your head and blinking away any remaining dampness from your lashes.
“If it’s ever too much, tell me to stop and I'll stop,” he insists affectionately, but those dark brown eyes are fixated on yours with blown-out irises and deep carnal cravings. 
He can’t expect you to ever want him to stop when he looks like that, right? Of course not. You take everything he gives you like the good girl he already knows you are, the sounds of your squelchy throat filling the silence and bouncing off the walls of his office. As much as you try to keep things clean, you can’t help the flood of saliva dripping onto his underwear the faster he fucks into your mouth. You can tell his orgasm is growing closer and closer by the way his thighs start trembling. 
And even though Yunho thinks he hears a sound closer to his office door than his comfort would allow, he continues his pace. Your eyes are closed, focused solely on breathing, so you aren’t aware of the way his attention is elsewhere. His eyes stayed trained on the silhouette of feet at the bottom of the door’s threshold, and there’s a fleeting thought of whether he should stop. That thought is overwritten with pure lust, spurred on by the way you reach up and begin to massage his balls the best you can from your position. Yunho bites down on your panties, muffling the whine bubbling from his chest. A moment later, your panties fall from his mouth and his hips lose all rhythm.
“Fuck ____– cumming,” he groans a little too loudly, but his head is somewhere deep in outer space, brain screaming at him for release, “Where?”
You open your mouth just the slightest bit wider to emphasize that you want him to cum down your throat. Yunho halts his hips altogether and you feel his cock throb in your mouth as he finally releases everything he has to offer. He’s no longer concerned with who may or may not be lurking at the door; the only thing he can focus on is the way you lock eyes with him while swallowing his essence and sucking him clean after the fact. Nothing else matters at this moment but you.
Friday’s class ends earlier than normal when Yunho gets through his lecture for the period faster than expected. 
“I need you to help me dye my hair soon if you have some time,” Yeosang says the moment people begin to stand and leave. You glance over to find him grimacing while looking into the camera of his phone, “I think I need to go back to pink or something, the brown is just not doing it for me.”
“I knew it wouldn’t last long,” you snort while filling up your backpack, “You’re just not used to having natural colors anymore.”
“I can’t even argue with that, my love.”
You ruffle a hand through his tresses before he finally stands to his feet, and you follow suit. Then, you toss a couple of things around in your mind about your schedule as you both walk down the lecture hall stairs before suggesting, “Actually, you could come over tonight if you already have the supplies.”
“Fuck, you’re the best. I’ll bring dinner too?”
Before you can even answer, a voice calls your name and steals your attention. Surprisingly, it’s Wooyoung of all people approaching you both. You can’t even hide the disinterest you feel in acknowledging him, it’s written all over your face. 
“Do you mind if I speak with you privately for a moment?” he inquires, motioning towards his chair.
Yeosang meets your eyes inquisitively before stepping away and telling you he’ll meet up with you later. The class has emptied when you both venture over to Wooyoung’s seat, and he begins searching through his bag for something in particular.
“Is there an issue with something I submitted?”
“Not necessarily,” he replies. “I suppose I just want some insight.”
He pulls out the notebook he uses for tracking grades in this class and places it on the table. People always find it a bit weird that he prefers to do things by hand first before electronically and, sure it might be more work than necessary, but he prefers to have both methods.
“I’m a pretty meticulous person, ____. I noticed that there’s a discrepancy in the grades for last week’s short essay assignment,” Wooyoung begins in a honeyed voice, “Though, the only discrepancy was on yours.”
“I’m not sure why you’re coming to me about this when Mr. Jeong handles things like this,” you respond indifferently. “I would ask him about the mistake.”
Wooyoung smiles and leans forward on his elbows, “That’s the funny thing, I did. He told me that he had made the change himself and not to worry about it. No other explanations.”
“Well again, he’s the teacher, so it sounds pretty open and shut then.”
“It’s never that simple, ____. I looked back and noticed this has happened a few times throughout the last month, actually.”
“If you’re just going to keep badgering me about grade changes I have nothing to do with then I’m gonna end this conversation here.” To be honest with yourself, there’s a part of you deep down that’s cursing profusely at Yunho for messing with your grades, and so openly at that. This is something you had explicitly made clear you didn’t need or want, but he had done it anyway. This is something you would have to chastise him about later in a very serious conversation. That’s the only concern on your mind as you start taking steps toward the doors and wave with a flick of your wrist, “Anyways, I’ve gotta go. I have other obligations for the day.”
“You mean like sucking off your teacher again?”
You cease all movement and turn back towards him, “Excuse me?”
“Sorry, that came out a little blunt, didn’t it?” He holds his hands up in remission. “It’s just not hard to put two and two together when your ear is pressed to a door and all you hear is choking, you know?”
“I have no clue what the fuck you’re talking about, but I’m offended you think I’d need that to pass a class anyway,” you reply indignantly. Still, there’s this slight feeling of panic pooling in your stomach.
Wooyoung gives you a knowing look, “You’re going to play stupid, really?”
“Look, I really don’t have the time for this—”
“I suppose we could ask the Dean what she thinks about things then? He said your name quite a few times, luckily,” Wooyoung interrupts you and suggests instead. His eyes flicker down to his phone and a pure look of fear at the thought that he possibly has a recording of you and Yunho’s depravity slates your face. “Oh, that got your attention.”
His laugh that follows that statement hits you right in your gut.
“My God, you’re an absolute asshole,” you seethe, but stop yourself before you can say anything worse. You’re well aware that being mean won’t get you on his good side. Instead, you calm yourself and rub your temples before asking, “What do you want to keep quiet, money? I don’t have much to offer but I can figure something out.”
“Listen, ____,” he says as he leans back in his chair and clasps his hands together, “I have a simple proposition that could make all of this just disappear.”
“Spit it out already then.”
“I want you to pretend we’re together for a little bit, publicly. Just enough time to make my ex want me back. Then, we can call it quits and go about our lives as if none of this happened.”
You can’t help the scoff that comes out of you, “You want me to fake date you to make your ex jealous, or else you’re going to essentially ruin my life. Is that what I’m hearing?”
“When you say it like that, it makes it sound evil,” Wooyoung points out with a hefty sigh. He slumps in his seat, “I’m not an evil guy, I would just like some help. That’s all. And you’re just not really in a position to say no, unlike others I’ve asked.”
“There’s a reason why those people said no, obviously,” you retort bitterly. He lets your sharp words roll off his back and simply smiles; there’s nothing you could say that would help your position and he knows this. It’s mid-November and graduation is in approximately a month. Surely it shouldn’t take that long for this plan of Wooyoung’s to finish, he knows this. The thought of it going on longer than necessary makes you feel physically ill though. Not to mention what Yunho would think about you having to interact with Wooyoung intimately.
“I want to make something clear as well,” he begins as if he’s forgotten this himself, “You cannot tell any of this to Mr. Jeong either. I don’t want my money for my assistant position to be compromised, obviously.”
Your brain begins to short-circuit at the thought of having to date Wooyoung openly without Yunho being aware it’s fake. The logistics in itself would cause you immense stress that you surely don’t need while closing out the end of your semester. You should very well be focusing on graduating and nothing more. Nonetheless, the last thing you want is for Yunho to lose his job because you couldn’t keep your mouth to yourself when he was already concerned about being caught that day. You don’t even care about the consequences for yourself, you’d feel immense guilt forever for ruining Yunho’s career and reputation. But, if Yunho heard that you were dating his TA, he’d surely break things off with you anyway. That thought scared you even more.
“So, would you like to exchange numbers?”
Halting your panic-stricken daze is Wooyoung’s hand surrendering his phone to you, a blank contact screen ever-so-inviting. You feel defeated, and you know this is going to end up turning out poorly, but you just can’t risk Yunho losing his job over you. When your anxious fingers snatch his phone and begin typing your information, Wooyoung sighs in contentment.
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Melon Pang! (PART ONE) — CEO Choi Seungcheol
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✧ The second chapter — Part of the SEVENTEEN World Series
The last thing Seungcheol expected was to argue with a random stranger in a bakery after an awfully stressful day. But how could he not when this person was about to take the last melon pan? You were in a similar position. Your boss had been nagging you non-stop at work, and all you wanted was your favorite snack, followed by a movie marathon on the couch. Instead, you find yourself having to deal with this stubborn guy who thinks the whole world is his.
✧ Genre: CEO au; coffee shop au; SMUT (in part two), fluff, angst, slow-burn, strangers to lovers ♥ Pairing: barista!reader x managing CEO!Choi Seungcheol ✧ Word count: 32k+ ✦ Warnings: swearing, many petty arguments between the reader and Cheol, stubborn Cheol, stubborn reader, power abuse (reader’s boss is an ass), time skips, several long flashbacks (let me know if I missed any!) ♕ Shout out: thanks again to @fugaciousserendipity for your input, and a special thank you to the wonderful @wongyuseokie for beta-reading for me, as well as hyping me the fuck uuuuup!!! love you, muah 💜 and thanks @outromoni for the banner!
✎ Notes (please read before sending me any questions!): 1) this is only the first part of the chapter since it's going to be waaaay longer than I anticipated LOL. also means that this is only the beginning and you will probably have many many questions at the end. but I promise, part two will be gooooood hehe 🤭; 2) there are some snippets from Wonwoo’s chapter since it takes place at the same time, so I advise you to read Don't Tell The Boss if you don't want to get confused; 3) the chapter is written from the perspective of Seungcheol AND reader; 4) I just want to clear something up in case people have questions about it: the snack I'm referring to in the chapter is a melon pan (a Japanese snack), but I named the chapter melon pang! since it's a wordplay on the seventeen song Pang! 🥰
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Seungcheol felt like absolute shit after the day he’d just had. Between him having to yell at the HR team for fucking up some important documentation and finding a piece of jewelry that looked suspiciously like the one he’d gifted his sister at Wonwoo’s place, he felt like he’d gone through almost every single emotion in one day, even a few he didn’t know existed until today.
That’s why after providing some final feedback on Wonwoo’s quarterly report – which he’d promised to read before the end of the day – he packed up his things and headed towards his favorite bakery that was located near the SEVENTEEN World HQ. It was already 9.30 PM, but if he hurried a little bit, he’d be just in time to grab a snack before closing time at 10 PM.
Even before SEVENTEEN World had been established, JamJam was the bakery that Seungcheol frequented whenever he needed a little treat. In his case, that was usually a melon pan, the CEO’s number one comfort food.
Especially after going through something stressful, the soft and fluffy interior of the melon pan combined with its cookie-like crust, was enough to make him momentarily forget about his worries.
JamJam just so happened to have the best ones in Seoul. Flavor Factory SEVENTEEN also produced their version of the melon pan, but in Seungcheol’s opinion, that one didn’t even come close to the ones at JamJam. Of course, no hate towards Mingyu. The guy knew how to make tasty food, but he wasn’t going to win this battle, no matter how hard he tried to improve his recipe – the blind tastings that the chef had made his Hyungs sit through over the years proved again and again that JamJam’s melon pan was still the number one in the city. 
With a mask disguising most of his face, Seungcheol exited his car and quickly crossed the road before entering the small but cozy bakery.
After quickly greeting the owner, Mr. Hashimoto, at the counter, he hurried towards the back of the store, where he knew the melon pan was usually located. Seungcheol was aware that it was late and that there was a chance that his favorite snack would already be gone, but he still had a little bit of hope. In the worst-case scenario, he’d end up eating a cream pan or some shokupan instead. 
As he neared the familiar bread baskets, he spotted exactly what he was looking for, his eyes lighting up at the sight of a single melon pan that had been left behind.
“Thank God,” he mumbled, slightly speeding up his steps to get to it.
However, the CEO wasn’t aware of the fact that there was another person in the store looking for that same sweet Japanese bread, which is why it came as a total surprise when someone else beat him to it, snatching the treat away just mere seconds before he’d been able to grab it.  
Seungcheol was in shock, furiously blinking as he tried to process what had just happened. His eyes slowly fixated on the woman who was currently holding onto his snack.
Now, he did say not too long ago that he would be fine settling for another snack if he couldn’t get ahold of a melon pan, but that was before it was practically ripped away right in front of his eyes.
Was he overreacting? His friends would probably tell him that he was. Did he care? No, he absolutely did not, not after the horrible day he’d had.
A movie marathon, your favorite snack and a relaxing evening on the couch. That was your plan for tonight. No worries, no stress, just a bunch of fictional characters fighting bad guys in an alternative universe – anything sounded better than having to deal with the world you were living in.
In the real world, you had to deal with your piece-of-shit boss who had once again managed to ruin your day. Today, he’d nagged you for not working fast enough, and as a punishment, he made you clean, restock, and close the shop all by yourself – turning your original 8-hour shift into a 10-hour one.
Then there was your male co-worker, Sanghoon, who’d been allowed to go home early, just because he’d “done such a good job today”. Right. What job? Being lazy and careless? You’d been doing most of the work at the coffee bar, which included fixing Sanghoon’s mistakes, for as long as you could remember.
How the guy had gotten a job at a coffee bar was a mystery to you. For someone who worked as a barista, he sure sucked at making coffee. There wasn’t a day that went by without a customer coming to you to complain about their coffee tasting like shit. Honestly, you couldn’t blame them because it really was that bad. You’d tasted Sanghoon’s coffee before and had almost thrown up at the taste of the overly bitter and sour liquid he’d produced.
So, for the sake of the company image and the customers, whenever time allowed for it, you prepared the majority of the orders.
As if that wasn’t enough, his lazy ass also refused to clean anything properly aside from occasionally wiping down the tables, sweeping the floors, and starting the automatic cleaning program on the coffee machines.
You were the only one busting your ass to make sure that everything was always in pristine condition – because no one wanted crusty-ass coffee. It sometimes made you wonder whether all of your hard work was worth it because it seriously felt like you were running the whole shop by yourself.  
Still, that wasn’t even the worst, though. No. The thing that annoyed you the most was the fact that your incompetent co-worker constantly kept messing up orders left and right. At one point it, got so bad that you felt the need to double-check every single order he touched before it could even reach the customer.
There had been one incident where a customer had asked for oat milk because she was allergic to regular milk. Sanghoon, who had been in charge of preparing orders that day because you already had too many things to do, had completely disregarded the comments attached to the order and prepared the latte with regular milk.
In other words, it ended with the customer needing her EpiPen, a nasty lawsuit, and your boss screaming at you for being a “useless disgrace to the company” without even listening to your side of the story – all while Sanghoon just stood there and let you take the fall for his carelessness.
Very quickly, you learned that the guy really didn’t give a shit about any of it. He knew that when the occasion called for it, you’d be there to pick up his mess, and it infuriated you to no end. You hated yourself for putting up with it every single time, but you also knew that if you just sat back and let it happen, the shop would be out of business, and your boss would find a way to blame you for the whole thing.
Besides, even if your boss caught him slacking, he still treated him like a goddamn star player, always overlooking his failures and praising him for doing the absolute bare minimum. But God forbid if you made even the tiniest mistake. Your boss would immediately let you hear about it, even if that meant criticizing you in front of the customers – it was fair to say that you hated the man with a passion.
At least JamJam, your favorite bakery in town, had never disappointed you.
That was proven again when your eyes spotted the last melon pan, lifting your mood almost immediately. You nearly did a little happy dance after you’d taken it out of the basket, but then quickly decided against it when you noticed the CCTV camera pointing straight at you. Now was not the time to embarrass yourself in public. 
“Excuse me?” You turned around at the sound of a male voice, assuming that he was talking to you since the bakery was pretty much empty at this hour. 
“Can I help you?” you asked wearily, raising your eyebrows at the blond man who had approached you – the mask he was wearing covered most of his face, so it was hard to get a read on him. And seeing as you’d gone through your fair share of uncomfortable encounters with strangers, it was only natural for you to have your guard up.
To your surprise, he pointed towards the hand that was holding the snack you were planning on buying. “Would you mind giving me that melon pan?” he asked. “I really need it tonight.”
Your weary expression slowly morphed into a confused one as you raised the sweet bread slightly. “This... melon pan?” you asked, wondering where this was going.
The stranger nodded. “Yes, that one. I just got off from work, and I’ve had a pretty rough day, so I need it. It’s my favorite snack, and I’m not planning to leave the store without it.”
You almost wanted to laugh at the audacity of this guy. As if you would hand it over just because he supposedly ‘needed’ it. It wasn’t your problem that you’d been faster.
“Well, it happens to be my favorite snack too, and I’ve also had a pretty rough day, so no. I’m not giving it to you.”
“Oh, come on. What’s it going to take? Name your price,” he motioned before reaching into his pocket to pull out what you assumed was his wallet. What the hell was he doing?
“I just told you I’m not giving you this melon pan,” you responded firmly – your free hand automatically squeezed into a fist as you tried to keep your blood pressure under control.
Getting into an argument with some random stranger was not part of the relaxing evening you’d planned. 
“And I said, name your price. Everyone has one. How much do you want for it? Fifty thousand won? A hundred thousand? More? Just tell me. Money is not an issue,” he shrugged nonchalantly, his wallet now wide open for you to see.
His outrageous proposition left you in a state of awe. The disgust was no doubt evident on your face, but he didn’t seem to care one bit. 
“Are you seriously trying to bribe me for a fucking melon pan?!”
Judging by the way he was dressed, you were pretty certain that the guy was loaded – the combination of the dark brown suit and black coat he was wearing probably cost more than what you earned in a whole month.
Regardless, that didn’t give him the right to treat others like garbage. 
“Do I look like I’m joking?” He didn’t look like he was. “You have something that I want. You’re not giving it to me, so I’m offering you an alternative that will make both of us happy,” he stated, completely oblivious to the fact that he was coming off as an entitled asshole.
“You are so unbelievably rude,” you scoffed. “I’ve never met anyone as ignorant and entitled as you. Just wow. If that’s how you treat people in your life, then you probably don’t have many friends.”
It was clear that your words had struck a nerve when the shameless stranger narrowed his eyes in response.
“I’m rude? I think you are pretty rude to someone who’s just trying to reason with you. Trust me, if you had any idea who I was, you wouldn’t be speaking to me like that.”
Oh, look, he’s a narcissist too... surprising.
“Listen, Mr. Whatever-Your-Name-Is. I’m going to say this one time. I don’t give two shits about who you are, and I’m not giving you my melon pan, so you can keep your damn money. Now, I’m going to walk away, pay for my snack and leave so that this,” you motioned between the two of you, “doesn’t escalate into something worse. Have a good life,” was the last thing you said before rushing towards the checkout.
Your blood was boiling by the time you left the store. The whole encounter with the rude stranger had put another damper on your mood, leaving you with a bitter taste in your mouth. Because just who the fuck did he think he was? And what kind of weirdo would try to bribe someone for a melon pan?
You truly hoped to never see him again. 
Once again, Seungcheol was left frozen in his spot, watching as the woman who’d just outright disrespected him walked away with what was supposed to have been his snack.
If he thought his day couldn’t get any worse, then this was definitely the straw that broke the camel’s back.
He was a grumbling mess as he left the store with a bag full of goods. Mr. Hashimoto, who had most likely heard the whole dispute, had been nice enough not to say anything about it. Instead, he’d given Seungcheol some additional cream pans and some of his homemade nama chocolate on the house in an attempt to cheer up the sulky CEO. Very kind, of course, but any appetite Seungcheol had before coming to JamJam was now completely ruined as a result of the squabble.
On the drive home, his mind kept going back to the insults you’d thrown at his face. Rude? Ignorant? Entitled? Ha! Who were you to say that about him?
Seungcheol considered himself anything but that. He had plenty of good friends who liked him for who he was, whereas you, some random stranger who didn’t even know him, had literally made those assumptions based on the few minutes that he spent in your presence.
He didn’t really want to admit it, but your words kept bugging him. Why? That probably had something to do with you being the first one ever to tell him that to his face. Seungcheol was so used to people treating him with nothing but respect – well, that is, if you take the other twelve CEOs out of the equation – that he hadn’t expected such resistance from a stranger like you.
But then again, you hadn’t been able to recognize him with his disguise, and he liked to keep it that way. He didn’t even want to think about what would happen if reporters got wind of this humiliating incident. 
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When Seungcheol finally entered his apartment around 11 PM, he was immediately greeted by a little white ball of fur happily sprinting his way, her tail wagging and tongue hanging out of her mouth as she jumped at his legs. 
“Hello, sweet girl. I’ve missed you,” he cooed, reaching down to lift up the small, adorable dog who was all too excited to be reunited with her owner after a long day. “I take it you’ve missed me too, Kkuma,” he smiled brightly, which was immediately followed by a chuckle as she enthusiastically licked his face.
With Seungcheol being managing CEO and having a busy schedule that often kept him away for longer periods of time, he usually had a dog sitter he trusted come around the house to feed her and take her on walks. He hated leaving her alone, and it hurt him to be away from her, but with the duties he needed to fulfill, he really had no choice.
That’s why he always made it his priority to spend as much time as possible with her whenever he didn’t have any work or social activities to attend. Seungcheol liked being around people, which shouldn’t be surprising as it was a big part of his job, but nothing beat the feeling of coming home to Kkuma and her unconditional love for him.
No matter what, Kkuma always had the ability to put a smile on Seungcheol’s face. She’d witnessed both the good and the bad over the many years that she’d been with him. And even though she couldn’t understand ninety-nine percent of the things her owner told her – rants included – she was always happy to listen to him.
Kkuma was like his own form of therapy, his safe place that brought him comfort when he needed it.
“Let’s call Jeonghan and tell him about the mean woman who took my snack, hmm?” he proposed after having dropped the JamJam bag off in the kitchen and taking a seat on his ginormous couch – Kkuma was now comfortably tucked against his chest, recovering from the energy burst she’d had at seeing Seungcheol.
“This better be urgent. I was about to sleep,” Jeonghan’s tired voice sounded as soon as he answered the call.
“Well, it’s urgent to me.”
“Oh jeez, here we go.” The other CEO released a sigh of exasperation, knowing that he wasn’t going to get to sleep anytime soon.
Seungcheol’s eyes rolled at his friend’s dramatics. “Don’t be like that. I think you’ll want to hear this.”
“I doubt it.”
“Anyway, you won’t believe what just happened to me,” Seungcheol started, choosing to ignore Jeonghan’s disinterest in the matter. “I had a shitty day, so I went to JamJam, and then this woman just snatched the last melon pan right in front of my eyes! I tried to tell her that I really needed it, but she wouldn’t give it up.”
“Obviously. Can’t blame her,” Jeonghan yawned.  
Seungcheol clenched his jaw in frustration at the CEO’s disregard. “Just let me finish. That’s not the worst thing. I even offered to give money in exchange for that melon pan, bu-”
The man on the other side of the phone was suddenly wide awake. “Wait, wait, wait, hold on. Did I hear that right? You offered her money for a snack?!”
“Yes! But what did I get in return? She called me rude, ignorant and entitled. And for what? I was being nice about it and gave her a way to earn some easy money.”
Jeonghan released a deep sigh at the other man’s words. “Cheol, you can’t just go around bribing people to get whatever you want.”
“Why not? It seemed pretty reasonable to me. Besides, who doesn’t want money in this economy?” Seungcheol shrugged, even though the other CEO wasn’t able to see.
“Are you really that oblivious? Of course you’re going to get cussed out if you do stupid shit like that. It makes you sound like an asshole.”
That earned a scoff from the managing CEO. “So, what you’re saying is that I was wrong, and she was right to be so disrespectful?”
“Oh, that’s exactly what I’m saying. If that were me, I would have wiped the floor with your ass.”
“Yah! Aren’t you supposed to be on my side? You’re my best friend.”
“Exactly. I’m your best friend, so I get to call you out on your bullshit. This is one of those instances. You need to realize that not everything can be solved with money, Cheol.”
“Ugh, whatever. You know what? Just go to sleep. I don’t need you to tell me what I should or shouldn’t do.”
The last thing Seungcheol needed right now was a lecture from Jeonghan.
“Cheol, come on. You’re being stubborn right now, and you know it.”
“Goodnight, Jeonghan.” Seungcheol ended the call right after that, not even bothering to wait for his friend’s response. “Is it too much to ask for some support?” he grumbled before directing his attention back to Kkuma.
She was now lying in his lap, looking up at him with big, curious eyes. Seungcheol smiled in response, leaning down to place a kiss on the top of her head, which was answered with some enthusiastic tail wagging. 
“At least I can count on my sweet girl, right?
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“Thanks, Haewon. I’ll check out a new place first, and then I’ll meet you as soon as I can.”
Seungcheol ended the call with his secretary, who’d just informed him that his favorite coffee place had closed down for good. She was usually the one who got his coffee in the mornings, but now that his usual spot was unavailable, he needed to find a new place that would be able to meet his standards. And since Seungcheol tended to be quite picky when it came to his daily fix of caffeine, Haewon knew better than to get him a random coffee from a place he hadn’t approved of.
“What’s a good place?” he mumbled to himself as he scrolled through a large list of Seoul’s best coffee places.
There were lots of coffee spots to choose from, but none of them were special enough to catch the CEO’s eyes.
The majority of the highly rated ones were either too hipster or too tacky for his taste, whereas several of the ones that looked rather nice had a large number of negative reviews that made him think twice about visiting.
After a good ten minutes of scrolling, Seungcheol was starting to lose hope. He was supposed to be at a meeting in a little bit over an hour and if he didn’t have a decent cup of coffee to start the day off with, he would be in a bad mood for the rest of it. And with how yesterday had ended, he really wanted today to be different – at this rate, that wasn’t going to happen. 
At least, that was until he came across a place called Oh My! Coffee. It was a small but cozy-looking vintage coffee bar located on the outskirts of Seoul, which Seungcheol thought was great since there would be less traffic holding him back. Plus, most of the reviews he’d read were both recent and extremely positive about the quality of the coffee.
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Apparently, it was enough to convince Seungcheol to go check it out because before he knew it, he’d started the engine of his luxurious sports car and made his way to the coffee bar.
The place looked exactly like the pictures he’d seen on Naver. The facade of the coffee bar was completely made out of oak wood, with vines of purple and pink flowers decorating the two large see-through doors to contrast the dark color of the oak.
Inside, the lights had been slightly dimmed to create an elegantly subtle glow of orange, which – combined with the soft jazz music playing in the background – gave the whole place a pleasant and relaxing ambiance.
Various vintage items adorned the walls of the cozy, homey shop, and though there wasn’t a lot of space, with the strategic way in which the small wooden tables had been set up, it was enough to accommodate a couple of coffee lovers who wanted to enjoy their beverage in a picturesque setting.
Seungcheol was already in love with the place, and he hadn’t even tried the coffee yet. Judging from the mouthwatering, smoky coffee aroma that invaded his nostrils as soon as he stepped inside, he was fairly certain that he wasn’t going to be disappointed.
But then his eyes fell on the barista, who was standing behind the counter, seemingly lost in her own world as she cleaned her workspace.
The CEO froze in his spot, his heart rate picking up at the sight that greeted him because it was no one other than you, the stranger who had disrespected him and ruined what should have been a nice evening with his favorite snack.
He never planned on seeing you again after last night, and he certainly didn’t plan to end up at the coffee bar you worked at. How could fate have been so cruel to lead him right back to you when all he wanted was a peaceful morning and a good cup of coffee? That was definitely not going to happen if you recognized him.
That thought immediately got Seungcheol into gear. A sudden boost of energy rushed through his body as he tried to be as subtle as possible. His feet were moving backwards, slowly taking him back towards the large double doors through which he had entered not too long ago.
He almost succeeded, but due to his poor spatial awareness, he managed to hit the heel of his black Derby shoe against the door – the sound it created was loud... too loud for you not to hear it.
“Oh, hi there! Can I help you with something?”
Your cheery tone surprised the CEO, mainly because it was a complete one-eighty from last night, where you’d sounded anything but happy. But here you were, smiling away like you hadn’t just told him that he was rude, ignorant, and entitled. It was almost as if...
She doesn’t recognize me.
“If you need some time to look, that’s fine. But I can also give you some recommendations if you’re not sure what to get,” you continued, that bright smile still adorning your face.
Seungcheol didn’t know whether to be relieved or creeped out by it.
Still, against his better judgment, he decided to play dumb and pretend like he didn’t know you. He was already running late, and he needed coffee, so what did he have to lose?
Clearing his throat, he carefully made his way to the counter before scanning his eyes over the large menu that hung on the wall behind you.
“Could I, uh, have a cafe latte?”
“Sure! Small, medium, or large?” you asked, your fingers hovering above the register as you waited for his response.
“Medium is fine, no sugar.”
“Hot or cold?”
“Hot.”
“Anything else?”
“No, I’m good. Thanks.”
You nodded, looking away briefly to finalize his order before pointing to a second screen that showed his total. “That will be 4,700 won, please.”
“Do you accept card too?” Seungcheol asked while fishing his wallet out of his pocket.
“Yes, we do,” you answered, stopping in your tracks as your eyes fixated on the man’s wallet.
Wait. That wallet…
“Great! Here you go then.” And that voice… no fucking way.
You swiftly shifted your gaze back to the man’s face. When you’d first spotted him standing in the shop, you thought that there was something familiar about him – you just hadn’t been able to pinpoint it. But everything suddenly clicked as you took him in again.
The blond hair, the dark brown almond-shaped eyes, the goddamn wallet that he’d so brazenly taken from his pocket in an attempt to bribe you.
He was wearing a blue suit instead of the dark brown one he’d worn yesterday, and his black coat had been replaced by a brown one that looked even more expensive. Even his white mask had been switched out for a black one. Still, there was no doubt in your mind that it was him… Melon pan dude.
How in the hell had he ended up here… at your place of work of all places? 
“Aren’t you going to take it?” he questioned, tilting his head quizzically when you still hadn’t taken the credit card that he was holding out.
“Right,” you grumbled before snatching the card right out of his hand rather harshly.
Any type of joy you’d felt at the prospect of getting to make another one of your coffee creations had disappeared as soon as you realized who you’d be making it for.
“Yah! What the hell?” the man exclaimed, his eyes narrowing at your action. “Is this how you treat your customers?”
Shrugging your shoulders, you looked him dead in the eyes as you swiped his card. “Only the ones that deserve it.”
“Excuse me?!”
“You heard me,” you replied, your voice void of any emotion as you calmly placed his card back onto the counter.
You knew damn well that if your boss caught you treating any customer this way, he’d give you hell for it. But you just couldn’t help it. Even though you’d only met the man yesterday, he already managed to evoke such extreme emotions from you that you couldn’t just stay silent and pretend like he wasn’t a total prick.
The stranger scoffed as he slid his credit card back into his wallet. “You know, I didn’t even want to be here in the first place. Do you think I’d willingly go to a place where the staff doesn’t even respect me?”
“Then why are you here? Plenty of coffee places to choose from,” you retorted, turning around briefly to start on his coffee. He did pay for it after all – the sooner you got it done, the sooner he’d leave you alone.
“It’s nice to know you’re rude both at and outside of work,” the man sneered.
You chuckled bitterly at his words as you worked on his beverage. “Oh, so now you’re calling me rude? Isn’t that a little hypocritical for someone who tried to bribe me for a fucking snack?”
“I’m not reliving this bullshit again,” he snapped.
“You asked for it,” you said nonchalantly as you turned back around, the milk you’d just steamed in your right hand and the cup of coffee in your left hand.
“When the hell did I- You know what? Just give me what I came for, and I’ll be out of here... for good,” he sneered.
“Trust me, there’s nothing I want more,” you grumbled, feeling this close to throwing the hot drink in his face with the amount of adrenaline that was coursing through your body.
It was tempting, but you really didn’t want to ruin your life and end up in jail for assaulting someone who wasn’t even worth your time and energy.
“Good. Hurry up then.”
Your jaw clenched at his demanding tone, but you chose to ignore it for now. Instead, you focused on the tulip you were trying to create. You’d thought about pouring the milk into the shape of a middle finger but decided against it when you realized that he might use that to ruin the company name – you wouldn’t put it past him to call you out on social media.
You had hoped that he would have taken the coffee and left without another word, but of course, he had to ruin that scenario by opening his mouth to start something... again.
“Let’s see if this coffee is really as good as the reviews say. I doubt the barista they were talking about was you,” he snickered as he grabbed a lid and a sleeve for his cup.
“Asshole,” you muttered, your fingers clenching around the counter as you tried to keep it together for just a bit longer. Two could play that game, though. “Well, just so you know, the melon pan I got was delicious,” you emphasized, watching in delight as his cocky expression morphed into one of anger at your mention of the melon pan.
Serves him right.   
“Whatever,” he huffed with a glare directed your way. “I’m out of here,” was the final thing he said before turning around and storming away with his fresh coffee.
“Oh, oh,” you whispered to yourself as you noticed your boss enter not even two seconds after the stranger had stormed out of the shop. And he did not look happy.
“What the hell was that? Did you just piss off one of our customers?”
You averted your gaze down, mentally preparing yourself for the scolding that was about to come. “It wasn’t what it looked like.”
“It wasn’t? So, you’re telling me that man didn’t just storm out of here, huh?” He was standing right next to you now, a little too close for your liking.
“I guess he wasn't in the best mood,” you mumbled, praying that he'd just let you off with a warning.
“Not the best mood, huh? How many times have I told you to treat our customers with respect? Do you even want to keep your job?” he hissed as he slammed his hands down on the counter, the unexpected sound making you flinch in your spot.
“I do,” you responded, gritting your teeth in frustration.
“Then act like it for once. You better hope that he doesn't write us a bad review because that will be on you. Am I clear? We should be lucky if he still wants to come back here after your shitty service. Sanghoon would never act like this.”
You couldn't suppress the scoff that you were holding at his ridiculous statement. Yes, you admit that you could have been more professional to the stranger, but it had been a special circumstance, and you’d acted a little out of character. But to compare you to Sanghoon like that? Ha! All your incompetent co-worker ever did was get on your nerves and sit on his ass while he typed away on his phone. So yes, of course, he would never act like that when you were doing all the work he was getting paid for. 
“You think this is a fucking joke, Y/N?”
“No, Sir,” you muttered, almost wanting to slap yourself for losing control of your emotions in front of your boss.
“Let's see if you think this is funny. Count this as your last warning. If I catch you treating any customer badly, you're out. I'm sick and tired of your shit, so let this be a lesson. Fix that attitude, or you're fired. Understood?”
“Yes, Sir,” you replied, deciding that speaking up would only make it worse. You couldn't afford to lose your job, not without a proper backup plan set in place.
“Good. Then get to work. You're on your own today.”
A frown made its way onto your face as you processed your boss’ words. “Sanghoon is not coming in?”
“What about being on your own don't you get? He took the day off. That's all you need to know.”
“Of course he fucking did,” you muttered under your breath as you got ready to start your chores for the day.
This was like the third time he'd taken a day off this month, leaving you with a shit ton of work to do on your own. You, however, were lucky if you managed to get one or two days off once every four months. Yes, you were aware that it wasn’t very ethical, but there was a reason you’d been putting up with this bullshit for so long.
It just so happened that Oh My! Coffee was among the highest-paying coffee shops in Seoul, believe it or not. Your boss was greedy and always looking for new ways to save or make money, but he at least had the common sense to compensate his employees adequately.
Any other person might have wondered why a man as greedy as him would willingly pay his staff more than the legally required minimum wage, but you couldn’t care less. All you knew was that your current salary allowed you to live comfortably – comfortable enough to put aside a small amount of money from time to time without having to worry about being able to afford your rent.
The offers you’d received from other coffee shops you’d applied for at the time had all been significantly less generous, which, naturally, had been the deciding factor for you to take the job at Oh My! Coffee. And now here you were, stuck with an asshole of a boss and a good-for-nothing co-worker – that is, if you could even really call him a co-worker at all.
Your situation was far from ideal. That much was obvious. But it wasn’t like you hadn’t been trying to look for other options. Up till now, all your search attempts had resulted in disappointment because there really seemed to be no shop that was able to match or beat your current salary. Besides, no matter how hard things could get at times, you simply weren’t willing to sacrifice that little bit of financial freedom you had.
Unless you could find an opportunity that would improve your current financial situation, quitting your job was out of the question.
So, for the time being – as shitty as it was – your boss not giving you any proper days off was just another thing on the list to prove that he was a sexist piece of shit who loved to make your life a living hell.
“Y/N!” Now what? “Didn't I tell you to clean the windows properly last time? I want you to do it again. And there better not be a speck of dirt when I come back.”
“I'm on it!” you called, already dreading the fact that it was going to be another long and exhausting day.
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The next morning, Seungcheol found himself standing in front of Oh My! Coffee once again, despite having promised himself that he’d never come back here. How did that happen? He blamed it on you and your damn good coffee.
Seungcheol hated to admit it, but the reviews about the vintage coffee bar hadn’t been wrong one bit. Even though the CEO thought you were extremely rude, the cafe latte you’d served him yesterday was no doubt the best coffee he’d ever tasted.
The nutty aroma, together with the subtle earthy undertones, gave the coffee a depth of flavor that he couldn’t get enough of. Every sip had been so smooth and rich, with a coffee-milk ratio that ensured a perfect balance of flavors – the sweetness of the milk had perfectly complemented the boldness of the coffee.
Although it went against his wishes, he did make some efforts to find a new coffee place – simply because he wasn’t looking forward to having yet another frivolous confrontation with you.
Similar to yesterday, he’d scrolled through the Naver list, checked out reviews, and finally stumbled upon another place that looked like it would meet his standards. However, after taking one sip of the beverage he’d ordered, he already found himself throwing the cup in the trash as soon as he’d exited the shop.
It was like you’d completely ruined any other coffee experience for him. He’d had a taste of your coffee, and there was no going back, no matter how much he tried to convince himself that there had to be other places like that out there. Seungcheol contemplated with himself for a good fifteen minutes before he finally gave in to his craving.
But as he stood in front of the large double doors again, he suddenly wasn’t so sure whether he made the right decision to come back here. Because why was he so willing to put himself into potentially another petty argument for a cup of coffee?
In any case, he could’ve just requested his secretary to get it for him, so why didn’t he? Why did he feel the need to pick it up himself and risk starting another squabble?
Was it because he suddenly preferred to experience the smell of freshly made coffee first-hand? Or was it because some part of him was looking forward to seeing you, the disrespectful stranger who didn’t seem afraid to stand up to him?
“No way,” he breathed with a shake of his head. “It’s definitely the coffee.” Nothing more, nothing less.
He would just get his coffee and leave before things could escalate. 
“You’re back,” you exclaimed as soon as you noticed Seungcheol walk up to the register.
Unlike yesterday, you’d immediately recognized him without him having to utter a single word – he figured as much.
“Yeah, got a problem with that?” he mused with raised brows, preparing himself for one of your sassy comebacks.
Instead, you smiled brightly and shook your head. “No, not at all! We, uh, we’re glad you chose to come back.”
“Okay?”
Seungcheol was taken aback by your switch in attitude once again. You definitely recognized him. He was sure of that. So why were you suddenly pretending as if you didn’t have another argument yesterday? He’d at least expected some resistance from your side. It made him feel almost... disappointed. Or was it confusion he was feeling? Either way, it was odd, and it made him slightly uncomfortable for some unknown reason.
The sound of a throat clearing rather loudly pulled his attention away from you and towards the man who was standing to your left, his arms crossed and a look on his face that didn’t seem all too friendly – and it was definitely directed at you.
“And…,” Seungcheol turned his gaze back to you. “I would like to apologize for my behavior yesterday. That wasn’t professional. I’m sorry,” you added, your voice tense and slightly raspy.
Based on the fact that you were struggling to get the words out, he assumed that your apology wasn’t voluntary and most definitely not sincere. His guess was that the man in the corner – whom Seungcheol guessed was your boss – had something to do with it. But since he hadn’t come here to cause any trouble, he decided to just go along with it for your sake and for the sake of his future coffees.
“Sure, no problem. Let’s just forget about it,” he nodded, his eyes flicking back between you and the other man, who had now moved to stand beside you. “Could I just get the same thing I ordered yesterday?”
Your body visibly relaxed at his positive response, so he knew that he’d made the right decision by not causing a scene right now.
“Of course.”
As the CEO was waiting for you to finish his coffee, he noticed that the man still hadn’t moved from his spot at the counter.
“Is there something I can help you with?” Seungcheol asked, raising his brows at the man who obviously wanted something from him with the way he kept staring.
“No, no! I’m just really glad that you decided to come back. It’s such an honor to have you in my shop, Mr. Choi.”
The CEO was glad that he had no liquid in his mouth, or he would have spit it all out the moment his name was mentioned.
“You know who I am?” he asked, his eyes flicking to you for a second. Only you didn’t seem to be fazed by the revelation, your eyes not even once straying from the coffee you were working on.
Did you know him? Or did you just not care about who he was?
“Of course! How could I not recognize you? You’re the managing CEO of SEVENTEEN World. I’d be able to spot an icon such as yourself anywhere.”
Seungcheol frowned slightly, wondering if his disguise was really that bad. Perhaps it was time to start adding beanies to his wardrobe from now on.
“Uh, yeah. Well, I’d like to keep that on the down low if you don’t mind.”
“Yes, I totally understand. But no worries, Sir. My lips are sealed,” the man assured him, which was followed by a smile that looked too fake to be genuine. “Ah, how rude of me! I totally forgot to introduce myself. My name is Park Wonshik,” he bowed before continuing. “If you need anything, and I mean anything, just let me know, and we’ll make it happen.”
The CEO quickly had to mask the snort that threatened to escape with a cough. Who did this man think he was? Did he really believe that this little act of his was going to get him anywhere? Whoever told him that sucking up to one of Korea’s most successful businessmen was a good idea was dead wrong. If anything, it only put Seungcheol off and made him want to get out of there as soon as possible.
“I doubt I’ll need anything other than my coffee,” he finally said, his eyes shifting back to you in the hope the man would take the hint and drop whatever phony act he was putting on.
“Right! Your coffee. Y/N? How are you doing with Mr. Choi’s drink?”
The smile that had been on your boss’ face just seconds ago dropped immediately as soon as his attention turned to you, now replaced by a scowl that was anything but amicable.
You lifted your head briefly to glance at your boss. “It’s almost done, Sir,” you responded dully, seemingly unbothered by the look your boss was throwing your way.
It was almost as if you were used to this kind of behavior from him.
“Well, would you hurry it up already? We don’t have all day,” he sneered and relaxed his facial muscles before turning his focus back to the CEO. “Apologies, Sir. Y/N tends to be a bit slow sometimes, but I assure you that it will only take a moment,” he spoke, throwing him another fabricated smile as if it were the most normal thing in the world.
Seungcheol was flabbergasted by the abrupt change in demeanor, unable to form a response in that moment. It made him wonder if the man even knew how ridiculous he looked – trying to come off as a well-established business owner who had his shit together when it was, in fact, obvious that he needed to work on his people skills.
Although you and the CEO weren’t on the best terms, he knew for a fact that spending less than five minutes on making a coffee did not equal being ‘slow’. Hell, even if it was, he’d happily wait for ten or twenty minutes if it meant he got to have another one of those mind-blowing lattes.
In Seungcheol’s eyes, anyone who treated their employees with disrespect was automatically guaranteed a spot in his bad books. From what he had seen of Park Wonshik in the few minutes he spent in the shop, the man was already well on his way to get there.
How the hell did you manage to put up with that on a daily basis?
You were trying not to let your boss get to you. Keyword: trying. But the man was making it nearly impossible with the way he was bossing you around in front of the one person you really didn’t want to see... Melon pan dude.
Why had he even come back in the first place? As far as you could remember, he’d made it abundantly clear that he would stay away “for good” after yesterday’s debacle, so what the hell was he getting at? Did he come back just to get a reaction out of you? If that was the case, then he was sure out of luck because he wouldn’t be getting any more fight out of you.
Your boss had drilled it into your head that he wouldn’t tolerate any more mistakes on your end, and you weren’t going to try and test his limit.
Just this morning, he’d made sure to remind you again after giving you another scolding as soon as you’d stepped foot into the coffee bar. Because not only had you offended and scared away a potential regular customer, you’d royally fucked up and offended “the one and only CEO Choi Seungcheol of SEVENTEEN World,” as your boss put it.
At first, you thought that he was talking out of his ass, but then it became clear that your crazy boss had actually scoured the CCTV footage for your little argument with the man. And apparently, he discovered that one of the outdoor cameras had managed to catch a glimpse of the CEO in front of his car, where he’d lowered his mask to take a sip of his coffee before taking off – that sight had been enough for your boss to put two and two together.
It shouldn’t have surprised you that your boss already knew all about the CEO and the SEVENTEEN World corporation. The man was a greedy fucker who would do about anything to get to the top, so scoring a billionaire as a regular was the equivalent of hitting the jackpot.
To think that he’d potentially lost such an S-Class customer as a result of your “shitty attitude” no doubt made him want to make your work life even more miserable than it already was. But how were you supposed to have known that your newfound rival was actually one of the most influential people in South Korea?
Of course, you’d heard of SEVENTEEN World. How could you not have when it was one of the biggest corporations out there and literally everywhere? You just hadn’t bothered to familiarize yourself with it and its CEOs because, well... why would you? It wasn’t something you were interested in, and you weren’t about to be either.
Honestly, you couldn’t give two shits about one of the CEOs coming to the shop. So what if he was famous? So what if he was filthy rich? In your eyes, he was still the rude stranger who’d tried to bribe you the other night. No amount of money or fame was going to change that.
You did have to admit that although you weren’t particularly happy to see him, a part of you was relieved that he’d returned for another coffee. It meant that your job was safe for now and that your boss had one less reason to hate you. But then again, that didn’t mean that he was going to stop criticizing you and making you look bad in front of customers. Of course, that would have been wishful thinking.
You’d already accepted that the universe hated you a long time ago, so you just had to suck it up for the time being.  
At least Melon pan dude had taken the hint and let you off easy today. The last thing you needed right now was for the two of you to start another petty argument in front of your superior. Because with the way your boss was trying to kiss the CEO’s ass, you were pretty sure that even if the CEO were to provoke you again, he’d happily let him and then continue to blame you for upsetting the customer in the aftermath of it all.
Yeah, you weren’t about to let that happen. You’d finish the coffee and take your break without causing a fuss. Simple and easy, just how you liked it.
“Your coffee is done,” you finally announced, placing the steaming latte onto the counter under the watchful eye of your boss.
Similar to yesterday, the CEO grabbed a lid and a cup sleeve from the counter.
“Thanks,” he nodded, picking up his hot beverage.
“Enjoy it and have a nice day,” you responded with a polite nod before starting to move towards the back. You really needed a short break after all of this.
At the same time, your useless co-worker decided to return from his own morning break.
Going against company policy, he’d extended his official fifteen-minute break with an additional fifteen minutes. It was typical Sanghoon behavior, so you weren’t exactly surprised. He loved to bend the rules to do whatever the fuck he pleased, and your misogynistic boss just let him.
It wasn’t fair… not in the slightest, but what could you do? Complaining about it would only end up with your break time getting cut – yes, you were speaking from experience. So, over time, you’d just learned to appreciate any break you could get, no matter how short it was.
“What do you think you’re doing?” your boss interfered, putting himself between you and the door to prevent you from leaving.
“Taking my break?” you questioned with a frown, not at all liking his tone.
Somehow you already knew that this wouldn’t end with you having a few peaceful minutes to yourself.
He quickly shook his head, a bitter chuckle leaving his mouth at your question. “Oh no, you’re not. There’s still more than enough work for you to do before you can even think of taking a break. I need you to start sorting the inventory and do a deep cleanse while you’re at it.”
Was he fucking serious?
“Sanghoon was supposed to do that though,” you mumbled as you could feel your blood pressure start to increase with every second that passed.
“And I’m telling you that you’re going to do it instead. Sanghoon has more than enough important things to do.”
Important things? Yeah right. Then why is the useless idiot currently slouched on a chair with his face buried in his phone?
That’s what you were thinking, but definitely not what came out of your mouth.
“But, Sir. That’s just not fa-”
“Y/N. I don’t want to hear anything. Or do I have to remind you again that you’re already walking on thin ice? Just do your damn job for once without opening that big mouth of yours.”
You sighed, not having it in you to put up a fight. “Yes, Sir.”
“Good. Then get to it. I’ll come check on you later,” he said, stepping aside to let you through. “Oh! Mr. Choi! You’re still here? How’s the coffee? To your liking, I hope?”
Your head turned around so fast that you could have sworn you heard something snap in your neck. Based on the frown that had taken over the CEO’s face and the look he was giving your boss, you guessed that he’d just witnessed all of that.
Why was he still here?
“It’s...” his eyes met yours for a moment, “perfect,” he stated, his mask already back in place before you even had the chance to get a proper look at his face.
“Wonderful! We hope to see you back many more times!” your boss exclaimed loudly. “Y/N? Don’t you have something to do?” he asked, even though you knew it was anything but a question with the pointed look he threw your way.
“Right,” you muttered and reluctantly turned around without another word, mentally preparing yourself for the horrible assignment you were tasked with.
Still, you couldn’t stop the slight smirk from appearing as you made your way to the storage room. Knowing that you’d proved the cocky man wrong with your barista skills gave your ego enough of a boost to make the day just a bit more bearable.
In all your years of coffee making, no one had ever been able to resist your coffee. It was just that good. Yes, you knew you sounded a bit arrogant, but you wouldn’t be saying it if it wasn’t absolutely true – the power your coffee held was exactly what kept the place running.
On that note, you were fairly certain that you’d be seeing a lot more of each other from now on, whether you liked it or not.
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Just as you had predicted, that was exactly what happened. In the days that followed, the CEO stopped by the coffee bar once a day – nearly always in the morning and always for the exact same order: a medium-sized cafe latte.
With you working six days a week and with Sanghoon being close to useless, encountering him was practically inevitable. Fortunately, for the most part, the two of you managed to be cordial with one another, aside from the occasional taunting remarks that the businessman threw your way. You knew that he was trying to get you to react to him because that was just who he was – a provocative little shit. But you couldn’t let yourself get carried away, not when you knew that your boss was watching your every move.
Ever since your superior had revealed that he used the camera feed to discover that Melon pan dude was, in fact, a rich businessman, you’d become even more conscious of how you behaved during work hours. Because who knows how many times he had already done this before?
Up until about a week ago, you believed that it had been a one-time thing. But of course, you should have known better.
After serving the last customers from the morning rush, your boss requested that you prepare his coffee and bring it to his office. You hadn’t thought anything of it because it wasn’t the first time you’d done so. However, what you didn’t expect to find was him casually reviewing the camera footage of you and the SEVENTEEN World CEO from two days prior – you knew that because of the purple hoodie you’d worn underneath your apron that day. 
Although the discovery had shocked you at first, you couldn’t exactly say that you were surprised about any of it. It certainly explained how he always knew about everything that went on despite being present at the shop for only about half of your six-day workweek – God knows what that man did besides constantly bossing you around and ruining your mood.
Regardless, that didn’t make the whole thing any less creepy. Spying on your employees through the camera feed? What kind of crazy psycho shit was that?
The worst thing of all was that he hadn’t even tried to conceal it. If anything, it was almost like he’d wanted you to see it.
As soon as he noticed that you’d caught on with what he’d been up to before you showed up, he was all too happy to show you the setup, just so that he could let you know that he was “watching you” and that you should be thinking twice about “messing up or mistreating valuable customers.”
What he probably hadn’t realized was the fact that he’d also indirectly revealed the spots inside the shop that the cameras failed to capture. So, despite the burning hatred you felt for the man and his disgusting behavior, you had taken advantage of the moment and memorized every single one of them to the best of your ability.
Even though it didn’t help you get rid of the problem that was your meddlesome boss, at least it would allow you to hide whenever you needed a moment to breathe – or in the case of Melon pan dude, you were able to use the blind spots to temporarily drop the fake act and reciprocate his provocations with your own.
It was around the fifth day of him visiting the coffee bar when you got to ‘test’ one of said blind spots for the first time. And no, it definitely hadn’t been planned. But the CEO had managed to piss you off to the point where you felt like you had no choice but to snap and let him know that you were anything but happy with his stupid actions.
It was close to noon. The shop was pretty much empty at this hour, apart from the two regulars who were drinking their coffee in peace at their usual tables. Sanghoon was in the back doing God knows what while you were in the middle of restocking the coffee and milk supply.
You were ecstatic about the fact that your boss wouldn’t be at the shop today, which, for you, meant that no one would be screaming in your ear during quiet moments such as these. Instead, you were able to take advantage of the situation and enjoy the soothing jazz music playing in the background while you busied yourself with your small task.
As you softly hummed along to the melodic tunes, you subconsciously found your thoughts drifting to no one other than Melon pan dude.
Strangely enough, the man had yet to come in for his usual coffee order. Based on the majority of his previous visits, you’d established that he preferred to get his coffee early in the morning, right before the biggest morning rush.
But he was a CEO after all. Perhaps something important had come up? Or had he finally managed to find another place that served better coffee than you did?
The latter shouldn’t have bugged you as much as it did, but the thought of there being another barista in Seoul who could top your coffee creations was bringing out your competitive side. Then again, why did you even care? It was Melon pan dude you were talking about. Losing someone like him to the competition was definitely not something you were going to cry about.
Your boss, however, would probably be the only one crying about it – and then find a way to pin the whole thing on you.
“You’re thinking about me, aren’t you?” a familiar voice shook you out of your thoughts.
Your eyes flicked over to the person in question, their sparkling eyes staring right at you as it dawned on you who was standing on the other side of the counter.
Speaking of the devil.
The CEO’s blond hair was covered by an orange beanie that seemed to match perfectly well with the black coat he’d chosen to wear today. Similarly, his face was once again hidden behind a white mask, even though you were pretty sure that he was smirking based on the way his eyes scrunched up ever so slightly.
“In your dreams,” you scoffed but quickly composed yourself when you realized where you were.
Technically, he wasn’t wrong – you had been thinking about him – but it wasn’t like you were going to tell him that.
As if he would need anything else to inflate that big ego of his.
The CEO chuckled in response and rested his hands on the counter to lean a little closer “Oh, come on. You can’t deny that you missed me at least a little bit,” he teased. 
You cleared your throat in response, choosing to ignore his statement. Whatever had caused him to delay his coffee run was really none of your business. You had a job to do after all.
“What is it going to be today? The usual?”
“Yeah,” he said before turning his body slightly to let his eyes scan through the shop as you typed in the order. “Wait. I’ll drink it here. And add a glass of fresh orange juice and a piece of that red velvet cake while you’re at it,” he continued, pointing to the display left from the register.
“Ehm, sure?” you responded, surprised that he even wanted to stay when there was the risk of being spotted. What happened to staying low-key? “I’ll bring it out soon. Just take a seat.”
That alone should have been enough foreshadowing for what was about to happen. Because you should have known that your day was going to be ruined one way or another. If it wasn’t your boss or Sanghoon, then it had to be the cocky CEO who had decided to deviate from his usual morning routine.
“Your order,” you said after you had made your way over to the table he had chosen to sit at.
It was located at the very back of the shop, and fairly out of sight from anyone entering through the double doors due to the various plants and decorations surrounding the small table. You guessed it made sense that he would choose such a spot with him being well-known and all.
The man immediately looked up from his phone when you announced your presence. “Here. Let me help you with that,” he insisted as he put the device away.
Before you even had a chance to open your mouth in protest, he had already reached up to grab the cup of coffee from the serving tray you were holding.
The unexpected move caused all the weight of the remaining item to shift to the back of the tray, which would have been fine if you had been prepared – only you weren’t. And with your other hand holding the slice of cake you’d wanted to put down first, there was no way to stop the tray from toppling over.
You watched in horror as the large glass of orange juice tipped in your direction, the liquid spilling out of the glass and simultaneously staining your clothes, as well as the brand-new shoes that you had bought a few days ago with your hard-earned money.
As if that wasn’t bad enough, the glass continued to fall off the tray, shattering into a million pieces right at your feet. The harsh sound it created echoed through the nearly empty space, interrupting the cozy atmosphere and startling the two regulars who had been in their peaceful bubbles.
For the first few seconds that followed you didn’t say anything, your gaze fixated on the twinkling glass shards decorating the wooden floor. You were trying to determine if you hadn’t just imagined this whole scenario. It was all just a little too much to process for you at that moment. Was this karma’s way of finally catching up with you for taking that last melon pan? If so, you truly hoped that it would eventually make its way back to the man to ruin his day – it was only fair in your opinion.
Somehow, you managed to gather yourself and immediately turned around to apologize to the two customers for the noise before focusing your attention back on the businessman, whose eyes went big at the series of unfortunate events that had just occurred.
“What the hell, dude? Why did you do that?!” you exclaimed, all your etiquette thrown completely out the window the second you opened your mouth.
Fortunately for you, you quickly realized that you were standing right in one of the blind spots you’d memorized not too long ago. In other words, there was no reason for you to hold back the anger you felt coursing through your body. 
“I was trying to help!” he gasped, holding up his hands in defense.
“Well, obviously you didn’t. Look at this!” You frantically motioned to your current state. “You don’t just take something off a tray when someone is holding it. That’s just common sense,” you grumbled, lifting one of your feet in an attempt to shake off the drops of orange juice that had landed on your white sneakers.
“I’m really sorry,” he mumbled, his eyes taking in your drenched form.
Anyone who took a quick look at him might have thought that he felt bad for you with the way his hand was covering his mouth. But with you being so close in proximity and his mask now completely removed, you could see his face slowly beginning to turn red. That, together with the raised cheeks and the little shake of his shoulders made it fairly obvious that he was desperately trying to suppress his laughter. 
“You think this is funny? Seriously dude? This is your goddamn fault,” you frowned as you placed the cake onto a nearby empty table and bent down to carefully collect some of the large shards of glass.
“I don't,” he shook his head, but couldn’t help but let out a snort. “Okay, maybe a little? I mean, it is kinda funny to see you like this,” he continued, his eyes scrunching up before he finally allowed himself to laugh. 
“You are unbelievable,” you huffed, your hands slightly trembling from the adrenaline that was rushing through your body.
This man was definitely not good for your health – you could literally feel your blood pressure rising with every second that passed. How could he just sit there and laugh when you were clearly upset?
“I honestly don’t see why people idolize you. Amazing CEO, my ass.”
Your words caused his mood to do a complete one-eighty, the smile that had been on his face just a second ago now replaced with a glare that he directed your way.
“Hey! What does me being a CEO have to do with anything? It’s not my fault you can’t balance for shit,” he retorted.
Yep, you definitely hurt his precious little ego there.
“Well, maybe if you’d read the room and learned some manners, none of this would have happened in the first place.”
He chuckled bitterly in response. “Manners? Me? Says the one who keeps insulting the customer.”
“Oh, boohoo. Am I supposed to feel bad for you now? I have an actual job to do here if that wasn't obvious already,” you snapped as you put the pieces of glass you’d collected onto the tray you were still holding.
“You’re doing a pretty shitty job yeah,” he stated before nonchalantly sipping his coffee as if he hadn’t just offended you.
Although what you really wanted was to retaliate and cuss him out some more, you decided to bite your tongue for now. After all, the two regulars were still in the shop, and you couldn’t afford to let them see you completely go off on another customer. You had at least that much self-control. Instead, you briefly closed your eyes and took a deep breath before opening your mouth again.
“You really don't know when to stop, do you?”
“I guess not, but that's what keeps things fun, right?” he smirked, which was followed by an obnoxious wink being sent your way.
The freaking nerve of this man was truly something. In all your years of living, you didn’t think you’d ever met anyone as impudent as him.
“I think we both have very different definitions of fun,” you mumbled, slowly rising up from your position on the floor with the tray that contained most of the glass shards.
The CEO took another sip of his coffee while he leaned back in his seat, a smug look taking over his features.
“Hmm, I’m not too sure about that. You seem to be enjoying yourself just fine in my presence.”
“I hate to ruin your little delusion, but if this is your idea of fun, I really don’t want to be part of it,” you said, but immediately cringed at the feeling of your pants clinging uncomfortably to the skin of your legs.
You’d already used your last set of spare clothing the week before – when you spilled coffee over yourself – so you were stuck in these clothes for now. The prospect of having to endure another six to seven hours in your ruined attire didn’t seem too appealing, but you guessed you had survived worse things – like your boss humiliating you in front of customers.
Something in your expression caused the man to wipe the smug look off his face, his features softening slightly. It was almost as if he suddenly realized that he had put you in this predicament and was being an ass about it.
“Alright, how about this? I’m feeling at least a little bit generous today, so why don’t you let me pay for the dry cleaning? Maybe some new shoes too?” he suggested with a raise of his eyebrows.
You nearly wanted to scream at his absurd offer because had he really not learned his lesson? Why did the man think everything could be solved with money? It was as if that was his only way of fixing conflicts, which made you wonder if he was really that far removed from reality that he forgot about something as basic as normal human decency.
Just because you were working as a barista – a damn good one at that – didn’t mean that a little money would make you cave. Who did he think you were? Some charity that was in desperate need of his help? Yeah, no. You weren’t about to play his little game.
“There you go again with your damn money. I don’t need it, and I never will so stop offering it to me,” you snapped, narrowing your eyes at him to emphasize your point.
He sighed at your refusal and shrugged before drinking the last of his coffee. “Suit yourself. I was actually trying to be nice for once, you know?”
You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at his response. “Please. As if you know how to be nice.”
The man paused for a moment, his mouth opening and closing as if he was trying to come up with a solid reaction.
“I’m just going to ignore that little comment. Anyway, I have more important matters to take care of than to argue with someone who doesn’t even know me,” he finally stated with a shake of his head before putting his mask back in place and making a move to get up from his seat. “Good luck with that, yeah?” he taunted as he motioned to your ruined clothes and the mess on the floor.
It was only when the orange beanie had completely disappeared from your sight that you finally moved from your position. A soft but bitter chuckle escaped from your lips as you realized what had just transpired.
Who would have thought that you would be arguing with some big-shot CEO about a glass of orange juice in the middle of your workday? It was certainly not how you’d imagined your day to go, but here you were – stuck at work and reeking of orange juice while he could go about his day as if nothing had happened.
Just when you thought it couldn’t get any worse, Sanghoon decided that he’d spent enough time in the back and appeared right at the same time you were throwing away the last bit of glass. At the sight of your ruined clothes, your co-worker couldn’t contain his laughter.
“What the hell happened t-to y-you?” he laughed, bending over to rest his hands on his knees for support.
You just rolled your eyes as you shoved past him, not even bothering to give him an explanation.
Having to deal with your incompetent co-worker making fun of you when you already felt like you were about to snap any minute was not something you were in the mood for. You just needed him to mind his business, do his fucking job and let you get through the day without any further incidents.
After that altercation, you had been less than thrilled to see Melon pan dude the following day. But surprisingly, he had kept his mouth shut when he came in for his morning coffee – thankfully to go this time.
You weren’t sure if it had anything to do with your boss being there or the fact that he just wanted to forget it ever happened. Either way, you were happy that it hadn’t come up again. However, that didn’t mean that you had forgiven him for it, especially when he was the reason your shoes were completely ruined, now permanently stained with the orange liquid. You’d tried everything to get it out of the material – from looking up stain removal tutorials to scrubbing for your life – but much to your disappointment, it had all been to no avail.
It was rare for you to splurge on yourself when you had so many bills to pay, so buying those shoes had been a nice little treat after a stressful week at work. That’s what made it all the more frustrating.
It was as if the universe was sending you yet another sign that you were definitely not the favorite... and apparently not allowed to have nice things.
Just like that time a few years ago when you’d gotten yourself a new laptop because your old one had officially died after eight whole years. Not even two days after you got it, you had already managed to break it by spilling water all over it. It had taken at least half of your paycheck to replace the damaged device.
Obviously, the shoes hadn’t been as expensive as the laptop, but the message was pretty clear: nice things never lasted when they were in your possession.
If you had to be honest, your ruined shoes weren’t the actual reason you were still so fired up about the whole incident. Not that you weren’t upset about your shoes – because you definitely were. You knew that spilling accidents were not uncommon in your line of work and that there would be a chance you’d get your shoes dirty. You just hadn’t expected it to happen the way it did, and to that extent, which brought you to the real issue at hand and also the source of your frustration: Melon pan dude and his ignorant attitude towards you.
How was it that a man could be so smart but so oblivious at the same time? At least, you assumed he had some brains because he did manage to become the head of an international empire that brought billions in revenue on a yearly basis. And as a result of that, you were fairly certain that he had dealt with his fair share of crises and stubborn businessmen.
So then how was he seemingly incapable of solving simple, mundane conflicts like a normal human being?
You had to admit that you were slightly biased and probably not the most cooperative person when it came to the CEO, but anyone with a set of brains could see that the fame had gotten to his head with the way he flaunted his wealth.   
You had tried to give him the benefit of the doubt. You really had. It was just that with each visit that followed the orange juice incident and each provocation that left his mouth, you finally came to the conclusion that the two of you were just on completely different levels and would never be able to see eye to eye on anything except for coffee.
Coffee was probably the only thing you were ever going to agree on.
Speaking of coffee, there had been a few times when you thought of messing with his coffee just because you were that petty. But you’d never actually acted on those intrusive thoughts since Big Brother (aka the CCTV cameras) was still watching your every move. You might have been close to slipping up during a few moments of weakness, but you definitely hadn’t forgotten about that little thing.
On top of that, there was Sanghoon, who wouldn’t have hesitated to run to your superior if he were to somehow catch wind of you tampering with the CEO’s coffee order. Your boss took great pride in protecting the shop’s perfect image, which included keeping the “VIP customer,” at whatever cost.
It just wasn’t worth it when the cons severely outweighed the pros, so you simply stuck to being cordial, no matter how hard it was at times.
There was, however, one occasion that had made you seriously reconsider your opinion of the CEO. On the day of his ninth coffee run, he’d unexpectedly shown up during the morning rush and ended up stepping in between you and an agitated customer to save the day, as he liked to call it.
If anyone were to ask you, you’d probably say that it was more like him getting put in his place by an older woman, but of course, he was never going to admit that.
“Excuse me, young lady?”
“Yes, Mrs. Park?” you responded with a small, forced smile, already mentally preparing yourself for what was about to come.
She shook her head and pointed to her coffee before placing the cup back onto the counter, right where you’d put it just a minute ago.
“This is not the coffee I ordered.”
“It’s a decaf with three shots of espresso and a splash of cream, exactly how you like it, Ma’am,” you stated while simultaneously trying to finish the Iced Americano you were making.
“That is how I like it, yes,” she nodded, “but this is too bland. You didn’t put three shots of espresso in this coffee.”
“I’m absolutely sure there are three espresso shots in there, Mrs. Park,” you responded confidently before handing the finished Iced Americano to one of your other regulars and shooting him a friendly smile.
Despite you being in the middle of the morning rush and the shop being a little chaotic with orders piling up by the minute, you were very certain that you had prepared her order just right.
Sanghoon was tasked with taking the orders seeing as you were busy making them. Although you were aware that he had a tendency to mess up when it came to situations that required responsibility, with you double-checking everything, the probability of messing up a coffee order was close to zero.
Besides, Mrs. Park was a regular at the shop who came in about three times a week for her morning coffee – that coffee always being a decaf with three espresso shots and a splash of cream.
It wasn’t like you disliked her because there were those occasions when she was nice and struck up a little conversation with you. But the problem was that she liked to complain… a little bit too much. It was up to the point where she would prevent you from doing your job until she got exactly what she wanted.
Coffee too bland? Coffee too strong? Too much cream? Too little cream? Too cold? Too hot? You name it. She always managed to find something to complain about.
At this point, you were pretty used to her antics and knew how to handle the situation in such a way that got her out the door as fast as possible with minimal resistance. Hell, you were probably the only person that was willing to put up with her shenanigans.
Even your boss, the asshole who never seemed to back down from a fight, was no match for her. As far as you knew, she was the only customer that had ever stood up to him and told him that he was a “rude piece of work that needed to get his shit together” to his face. To say that he had been flabbergasted was an understatement.
You, on the other hand, had truly enjoyed the little confrontation – especially the look on your boss’ face as the older woman wiped the floor with him. She had told him everything you weren’t able to, so there was definitely a part of you, deep down, that appreciated her for standing her ground.
Regardless, that didn’t mean you were happy that she had chosen today to cause a scene. You just wanted to be done with the morning rush and take a well-deserved break.
Why did she always have to do this during the busiest time of the day?
“You’re lying. As you know, I’ve been here many times before, and my coffee has never tasted this bland,” she snapped back, not planning to let it go any time soon.
And yes, despite your boss getting his ass handed to him that one time, he still allowed her in the shop. After all, he was a sucker for money, and she was a paying customer, so forbidding her from coming to the shop was out of the question. He simply refused to engage with her whenever they happened to be there at the same time, which is how you ended up with the task of having to appease her several times a week.
It wasn’t like you already had a million other things to do.
“I can assure you that I made it just as I always do. But, if you’re not satisfied with your coffee, I could just add another espresso shot in there to make it stro-”
“No!” she cut you off with a sneer before crossing her arms over her chest. “I want a new coffee. A proper one this time, or I won’t hesitate to leave another bad review.”
Oh god. Your boss would have your head if yet another one of her rants made it onto Naver.
So, that is why you quickly dropped whatever you were holding and turned your body to give her your full attention.
“That won’t be necessary, Mrs. Park. Please. I’ll ma-”
The sound of a throat clearing stopped you mid-sentence, your eyes shifting to the source of the sound.
“If I may?” the man started, meeting your eyes for a brief second before he inserted himself between you and your regular.
Melon pan dude?
Due to the morning rush, you had been so focused on getting all the orders out that you hadn’t even realized that he had been in the shop all this time, waiting for his own coffee. But now that you had a chance to observe him, you wondered how you could have missed him in the first place.
Out of all the people that were currently in the shop, he was actually the one that stood out the most. The combination of his signature orange beanie and the soft brown coat you’d seen him wear before was a stark contrast from the other customers, of whom the majority was clad in attire consisting of various shades of black and gray.
Seeing as he already stood out enough as it was, you didn’t really understand why he felt the need to insert himself into a conversation that didn’t even concern him.
There was no way Mrs. Park would go down quietly.
On the contrary, the woman tended to make quite the spectacle whenever something was not to her liking. More often than not, it ended with all eyes on her and the person on the receiving end of her indignation – aka you. Not that she could care less, though. With the way she had handled your boss, you were fairly certain that she wasn’t afraid of anyone, which no doubt included rich CEOs with big egos.
So, whatever Melon pan dude had in mind, you had a feeling that it would result in a pointless screaming match with him getting a figurative ass-kicking.
For someone who wanted to stay under the radar, the man sure knew exactly what to do to put himself right in the spotlight. But then again, who were you to stop him from embarrassing himself? It wasn’t like you were the one responsible for any damage to his ego or his public image.
Besides, maybe it would actually teach him a lesson or two about involving himself in other people’s business. Because by the looks of it, he had not gotten that memo yet – said man was currently in the middle of staring down an already-agitated Mrs. Park.
“You know, I’ve been watching her prepare orders for a few minutes now, including yours. And I most definitely saw her add three espresso shots in your coffee,” he stated with crossed arms.
Although you weren’t able to see his entire face due to the mask covering most of it, his tone – one you were all too familiar with – told you that he was more than a little annoyed with the older woman.
“I know what I tasted. Don’t try to insert yourself in something that doesn’t concern you, young man,” Mrs. Park responded, seemingly unamused by the interruption.
This was followed by a breathy chuckle from the CEO before he spoke again. “Trust me. I’d prefer not to either, but you’re being a little more than unreasonable right now.”
“Ha! Unreasonable?” the woman snorted. “As a paying customer, I expect to get the coffee I ordered. But clearly, I did not get what I asked for.”
“Ever considered there might be something wrong with your taste buds?” the CEO panned with a raise of his eyebrows.
The disdain was apparent on the woman’s face as she uttered her next response.
“E-excuse me?!”
Oh no, he’d really done it now. He still didn’t know when to quit, did he?
“Need me to repeat that for you?” he challenged, his tone bordering on taunting.
“What I need is for you to move aside so I can resolve this matter!”
“Why don’t you just stop being a bother and let her do her job? If you haven’t noticed, you’re not the only one in here,” he pointed out, referring to the rest of the customers, all of whom seemed to be very invested in the dispute.
You couldn’t blame them. It wasn’t every morning they got to see some random dude go up against an older lady. And for what? A damn coffee order, that was.
The most shocking thing about all of this was probably the fact that he was actually trying to help you for once. You thought that he would have at least liked to see you suffer a little bit for all the times you had gotten on his nerves. It was… confusing and most unexpected.
Unfortunately, you didn’t have much to think it over due to the events that were about to unfold right in front of your eyes.
Within the next few seconds, Mrs. Park effortlessly pushed the much larger CEO aside as if he was nothing but a useless pawn standing in her way. That, of course, pulled a bunch of gasps and giggles from the bystanders, who were no doubt just as shocked as you.
You nearly would have laughed with them if it weren't for you realizing you were at work and needed to remain neutral, no matter how badly you might have wanted to express how you truly felt. But dang, that was definitely a sight you weren't going to forget.
The man in question was stunned, to say the least – understandably so, because who knew a small woman like Mrs. Park was hiding such strength? The CEO must have really struck a nerve to bring out that side of her.
To be fair, it shouldn't have surprised you it had even gotten to this point. The man had a gift for driving people up the wall – you knew that all too well after less than two weeks of knowing him. And with both him and Mrs. Park having strong personalities, the two were bound to clash one way or another.
If it was under a different circumstance, you would have loved to enjoy this display just a bit longer. But, if you actually wanted to get through your list of orders, you needed to find a way to put a stop to this. Besides, judging by the fire igniting in the CEO’s eyes, you feared that he was about to take it up a notch if you didn't immediately do something about it.
Before either Mrs. Park or Melon pan dude could get another word in, you quickly stretched out your arm in an attempt to stop the latter from saying or doing something he shouldn't.
“It's okay!” you intervened and gave the CEO a pointed look before directing your attention at the older woman. “No need to argue. I already redid your order, Ma'am,” you added while placing the new cup on the counter. “A decaf with three espresso shots and a little bit of cream.”
Mrs. Park smiled triumphantly at the sight of the steaming cup of coffee. “Thank you, dear,” she said as she reached out for it. This was followed by a nasty look being thrown in the CEO’s direction. “You see that, young man? That is how it's done.”
The CEO, who had already opened his mouth to retaliate, was quick to shut it at the sight of your excessive head shaking.
Your goal was to de-escalate the situation and get the older woman out of the shop as quickly as possible. His involvement would only slow down the process, so you hoped that he would get the hint and let you handle the rest from here.
The sound of another throat clearing pulled your attention right back to the woman who had been at the center of all this.
“Yes, Mrs. Park?”
“Aren’t you missing a little something, dear?”
A small frown made its way onto your face as you racked your brain for anything you could have possibly missed.
“I’m not sure what you’re referring to, Ma’am?” you responded, seemingly confused but also trying your best not to cry out in frustration.
She had already put Melon pan dude in his place and gotten her new coffee, so what else did she want?
“Well,” she huffed before pointing to the glass display, “the least you could do is give me one of those cookies on the house after everything I just went through.”
Ah. So that’s what the whole thing was about. A free cookie… you should have known. It wasn’t the first time she had tried to get something for free, and it definitely wouldn’t be the last time. 
“You can’t be for real, right?” The CEO butted in before you’d even had a chance to respond. “You got what you wanted, and now you still want more?”
You mentally cursed at the man for opening his big fat mouth again. So much for letting you handle the situation.
“Just who do you think you are to speak to me like that?” the woman questioned, no doubt wondering who would have the audacity to argue with her the way he did.
“I think you’d be surprised to find out.”
“It’s fine! Please. It’s not a big deal,” you quickly interrupted upon hearing the CEO’s last words.
You doubted he actually wanted to reveal his identity and risk becoming front-page news. That wouldn’t do him nor you any good. The last thing you wanted was a bunch of reporters swarming the shop to grill you and anyone else they could find for the ‘juicy’ details.
“I got you a cookie on the house,” you announced, holding out the paper bag for her to take.
“Wonderful! I knew I could count on you,” she nodded and eagerly reached for the bag. “At least someone here knows how to treat people,” she grumbled, throwing the CEO a final look before taking her leave.
As soon as the door had closed behind Mrs. Park, a collective sigh sounded through the shop, which was immediately followed by the sound of continuous chatter.
It was kind of funny though, how everyone had been so invested just a few seconds ago but went right back to their conversations and phones as if nothing had happened. The CEO, however, was awfully quiet and seemingly deep in thought.
“You good?” you asked, feeling genuinely concerned when he hadn’t moved for a good minute.
You honestly didn’t know why you felt sorry for the guy, but something about today’s events had stirred something in you – something you couldn’t quite put your finger on.
Your question seemed to shake him right out of his bubble, his eyes snapping up to meet yours.
“Me? I’m fine,” he nodded and took a few steps towards the counter. “Is she always like this though?” he questioned, obviously referring to Mrs. Park.
You pursed your lips as you measured the amount of milk you’d need for the next order on your list – his to be exact. “Probably like ninety-nine percent of the time?”
The man scoffed in response, placing his hands on the smooth countertop. “And you just give into her like that? You know she was just looking for attention and a free cookie, right?”
“I know, but what can I do?” you sighed, shooting him a brief glance. “She’s a regular and my boss cannot stand the bad reviews, so it’s best to just give her what she wants from time to time.”
“Unbelievable,” he muttered, shaking his head in disbelief. “I thought you were bad, but she was something else.”
“Pfff, whatever, Mr. CEO. You’re worse than me and Mrs. Park combined,” you retorted with a roll of your eyes.
“Yah! At least I had the guts to put her in her place,” he defended, his eyes widening at your words. 
“What place? I think you’re the one who got owned by her though,” you giggled as you grabbed your now-finished milk foam. “Didn’t you see the way she just pushed you aside like you were nothing? Bet you’re not used to that, huh?”
“That’s only because I let her. I was just- I mean… I-I can’t be fighting an old lady,” the man stuttered, his defense crumbling right there.
Oh, he was such a freaking liar.
You couldn’t help but grin as you skillfully poured the steamed milk into the paper cup, shaping it into a pretty flower. “Sure, that must have been the reason.”
“The least you could do is thank me,” the CEO grumbled.
Even though you weren’t able to see his whole face, you were pretty certain that he was pouting underneath his black mask.
“Now where’s the fun in that?” you chuckled, enjoying the effect your words had on him. Unfortunately, that moment could only last for so long seeing as you had other customers to serve. “Here. Your coffee’s ready.”
“Thanks. I have to run now, though. I’ll see you around, yeah?” You nodded, a small smile on your lips as you watched him grab his cup.
“Hey,” you called just as he was about to take his leave. The man raised his eyebrows questioningly, patiently waiting for whatever you were about to tell him. “Thanks… for trying to help me out.”
His face immediately softened at your expression of gratitude. “No problem,” he nodded, which was followed by a quick but unexpected wink in your direction before he also exited the shop.
Maybe he wasn’t as bad as you thought.
After that debacle, you actually thought the two of you had made some real progress. Okay, it wasn’t like you were all buddy-buddy with another, but your opinion of the man had definitely taken a turn for the better.
For one, him coming to the shop hadn’t been bothering you as much anymore. You weren’t sure what had come over him, but he kept the teasing and taunting to a minimum during his next few visits.
Though his behavior had taken you by surprise, you were certainly not going to complain about it. Instead of the usual back and forth – that was, him trying to get a reaction out of you and you doing your best to ignore him – you found yourself having small conversations with the man that didn’t make you want to strangle him by the end of it. 
Perhaps he had finally realized that being a dick wasn’t going to get him anywhere, especially if you were going to see each other on a nearly daily basis for his coffee runs. Or maybe he had decided that the risk of potentially damaging his public image wasn’t worth it after all, which, honestly, sounded a little more plausible to you.
Despite you having no desire to make him look bad whatsoever, you technically did have the means to do so. And if people loved anything, it was celebrity gossip. Hell, big celebrities had gotten canceled over the smallest and most ridiculous things, so who was to say that the same thing couldn’t happen to SEVENTEEN World’s managing CEO?
Of course, you wouldn’t ever think to take it that far. You weren’t exactly the man’s number-one fan, but you’d never want to wish something like that on someone. Besides, if his recent change in attitude was anything to go by, you were fairly certain that he and his reputation would be just fine.
Whatever it was, you had started to take somewhat of a liking towards the new and improved Melon pan dude.
Looking back on it now, you just wanted to laugh at yourself for being so naïve.
That friendly façade, that peaceful bubble in which you had momentarily forgotten what an ignorant asshole the CEO could be, had only lasted for a total of two days.
Yes. Two freaking days was all it had taken for him to throw it all right back in your face. Were you disappointed? A little. Surprised? Not in the slightest – it had all seemed too good to be true anyway. The average person doesn’t change overnight, and the CEO was apparently no exception to that either.
Once an entitled prick, always an entitled prick, isn’t that how the saying goes?
Today was not a good day for Seungcheol… and the day hadn’t even started yet.
The first thing he’d woken up to this morning was his private investigator informing him that the bracelet – the one he’d seen at Wonwoo’s place a little over a week ago – belonged to no one other than his dear sister.
When he’d initially spotted the bracelet, he’d hoped that it wasn’t true. But when his PI told him the bad news, Seungcheol had felt his heart break just a little bit. There was no way the PI could have been wrong about it – the CEO had made sure to hire only the best of the best. And the best he was, that much he’d proven already with the various documents and pictures he’d collected to confirm the CEO’s suspicions about the pair.
He just didn’t want to believe that his best friend and his sister would go as far as to lie about something so important. Seungcheol had trusted them with everything, and to think that they’d betrayed his trust affected him more than he would have liked.
Before starting this little investigation, Seungcheol had obviously weighed out the pros and cons that came with digging into the personal lives of the people he loved. Of course, somewhere deep down, he knew that it was totally immoral and reckless, and he was aware that it would inevitably open Pandora’s box. But the thought of being in the unknown, the thought of not knowing whether he was being lied to or not, had affected him to the point where he had started to neglect some of his duties as managing CEO.
That’s why he’d decided that he had to know the truth, regardless of the consequences – morals be damned.
But the truth hurt.
Seungcheol was not used to feeling like this, much less capable of dealing with it. Being the CEO he was, he’d dealt with more stressful and bad situations than he could count. But this? This was different. Nothing could have prepared him for this shitstorm. If it would have been any other work situation, he would have had no issue facing the problem head-on.
With this being a personal matter, however, Seungcheol couldn’t exactly approach this as he would a work-related issue. He felt like he had to gather a little more evidence at least, and come up with a concrete plan before he showed his cards. Because even though everything in his body told him to confront the pair, he had to keep it together for now.
The last thing he wanted to do was to jeopardize the future of SEVENTEEN World.
Naturally, with the CEO having to keep such a big secret to himself, the stress of it all was slowly starting to take its toll on his emotions.
Under normal circumstances, he would have gone to either Jeonghan or Mingyu for help. As the group ‘therapists’, the fashion CEO and the chef were no strangers to their friends coming to them for advice or, in some cases, to blow off steam. Both men were great listeners and just had this aura about them that made others naturally want to confide in them. In Seungcheol’s case, Jeonghan was his go-to person whenever he needed a listening ear, more so than Mingyu. Surely, that didn’t mean that Seungcheol valued his advice any less.
On the contrary, the chef had been there for him more times than he could count, in particular during the hard times he’d had to endure in the beginning stages of their business journey. He’d never explicitly told Mingyu this, but Seungcheol was pretty sure that he would have given up a long time ago if it hadn’t been for Mingyu’s unwavering trust and the many encouraging words he’d bestowed.
It was safe to say that Seungcheol had a special type of appreciation for the chef.
The reason Seungcheol tended to seek out Jeonghan, and not Mingyu, in times of distress was pretty straightforward: the two of them go way back. And because of that long-standing friendship, the fashion CEO probably knew Seungcheol better than anyone else.
It was a pain in the ass sometimes – because Jeonghan was certainly not afraid to give his unfiltered opinions – but the managing CEO also knew that his friend only wanted the best for him. Well… it usually took Seungcheol a while to see that, but that was beside the point.
With the CEO being in this predicament, however, neither Jeonghan nor Mingyu seemed like a great option.
Mingyu was obviously out of the question – seeing as he was Wonwoo’s closest friend, Seungcheol was quite positive that the other CEO was already in on the whole thing.
Though Jeonghan was no doubt just as much in the dark as Seungcheol had been, the thought of having to tell his oldest friend about the betrayal already made him want to cringe. Jeonghan would probably tell him to stop being such a grump and get over it, which was definitely not what Seungcheol needed to hear right now. He was fucking pissed and in no state to accept any form of criticism from anyone, especially from his best friend.
That’s why he was currently on his way to Oh My! Coffee for his daily fix of caffeine. Despite feeling stressed and extremely agitated, the CEO knew that a good cup of coffee would at least provide him with enough of a boost to get through the majority of the day.
He had a lot of shit that needed to get done, and if he didn’t find something to take his mind off the matter at hand, soon everyone would know something was wrong. And with everyone, he was mainly referring to Haewon.
Having been Seungcheol’s personal secretary for many years, she had spent enough time with the CEO to know when something was really bothering him.
Though their relationship was primarily professional, his secretary probably knew a lot more about his personal life than she should have. The CEO wasn’t stupid, though. He knew that it was inevitable with the busy life he led.
Just about everything in his daily schedule – even the majority of his weekends – was arranged through her, so he was rather impressed with himself that he’d even managed to keep the whole PI thing a secret for so long.
It really was surprising because Seungcheol swore she had some sort of sixth sense with the way she was always able to figure out exactly what was on his mind – it was freaky but quite convenient whenever he had a hard time verbalizing his concerns.
Still, the CEO didn’t think it was a good idea to involve his secretary in any of this. He knew that Haewon wasn’t the type to tell on him, which was one of the reasons she was still with him to this day, but he already expected her to pull a full-on Jeonghan on him if she were to find out about what he had been concocting behind her back.
Simply put, keeping it on the down low was probably in everyone’s best interest.  
What Seungcheol hadn’t anticipated, however, was for his day to get even worse after just having confirmed his usual order at his new favorite coffee place.
“I’m sorry, but I’m afraid your card got declined,” you spoke quietly, almost as if you were trying to soften the blow of the unexpected words that had just left your mouth.
Seungcheol shook his head in utter disbelief. He didn’t think he’d ever hear those words, certainly not in a context where they’d be directed at him.
“Decl- What? Try again,” he urged with a hint of a frown on his face.
“I’ve already tried it twice. Do you have another card I could try?” you responded with a shrug before handing him back his black credit card.
“For fuck’s sake,” Seungcheol grumbled as he hastily opened his wallet again to put his declined card back in place. He then grabbed onto his second black card and handed it over without a word, watching intently as you swiped it.
“I’m afraid this one is not working either,” you stated after a few seconds of silence, followed by you holding out yet another declined card.
Seungcheol almost wanted to scoff at the absurdity of the situation. How was it that neither of the two cards was working when he clearly had more than sufficient funds in his account? This had to be a fucking joke. There was just no other logical explanation for it.
“Then there’s something wrong with your system. My cards can’t be the issue,” Seungcheol shook his head, impatiently tapping his fingers against the countertop as he felt the frustration slowly start to spread through his entire body.
Just why did the universe have to mess with him today of all days?
“I can assure you our system works just fine,” you huffed, your clenched jaw making it quite obvious that you were trying to hold back whatever was really going through your mind.
“Well, obviously it can’t be me. I didn’t just go broke overnight,” he chuckled bitterly. “Reset the thing, try again. I don’t care whatever you do. Just make it work,” he added as he motioned to the register.
“I don’t know what else to tell you. Your cards. are. not. working.” you emphasized with a pointed look, seemingly done with the CEO’s refusal to believe that the problem was with his cards and not the shop’s system.
Seungcheol let out a frustrated sigh at your words, trying his very best not to snap back at you like he normally would have. He just wanted his damn coffee and get on with his day. And getting into an argument with you was not on his to-do list for today. So, choosing the high road, he reluctantly pulled a five thousand won banknote from his wallet.
“Just forget it. I got cash,” he muttered, nearly slamming the thing down onto the counter.
You didn’t say a word as you reached for the money. Neither did you say anything when you handed him back his 300 won worth of change.
It annoyed Seungcheol that you’d chosen to give him the silent treatment, but it wasn’t like it was anything new though.
Before the whole ‘cookie’ incident – which is the name he’d assigned to the encounter he’d had with the older woman – you’d tended to ignore his teasing remarks on a daily basis. Though it was a little frustrating for Seungcheol to not have you acknowledge him when he was speaking to you – if he had to guess, it probably had to do with your boss giving you nothing but grief for absolutely no reason – he hadn’t actually minded it much.
The truth was, as the days progressed, he’d unknowingly started to look forward to his coffee runs. And no, it wasn’t only because of the good coffee. The CEO couldn’t really explain it, nor did he want to admit it, but his interactions with you made him feel things he hadn’t felt in years.
Perhaps it was because you were so different from everyone else in his life. Come to think of it, aside from his friends, you were probably the only person he’d met who didn’t treat him with the utmost respect.
If he’d learned anything about you in the short time he’d known you, it was that you didn’t seem to give a shit about his CEO status.
Unlike your slimy-ass boss, who made it his mission to suck up to Seungcheol whenever he got the chance, you treated him like any other customer despite knowing his true identity. It was like he could be a completely different person with you, and it was sort of… exhilarating?
Then the cookie incident happened. The CEO had been so close to revealing his true identity when the older woman just wouldn’t stop taking advantage of the situation. And because he had been so agitated at that point, he had totally forgotten about the audience that had been able to follow the entire thing.
God knows what would have happened if he had revealed himself in front of that crowd. Seungcheol already imagined the headlines he’d be seeing the following day: ‘SEVENTEEN World’s Managing Director Choi Seungcheol Argues with Older Woman in Coffee Bar.’ While the other CEOs would have had a field day with that, he was pretty sure his PR team would have had his head for that.
So, whether it had been intentional or not, your interruption had been a very welcome one.
After that day, though, things started to look a little better for the two of you – mainly because the CEO had decided to take a different approach to your interactions. Again, he would never openly admit it, but despite the hostility between the two of you, you intrigued him, whether he liked it or not.
So, naturally, with Seungcheol being the nosy person he was, he’d made it his goal to find out more about you. But to be able to do that, he figured that he wasn’t going to get anywhere by constantly getting on your nerves. Hence, he’d toned down his teasing and provocative remarks in an attempt to show you a different side of him.
Up until today, it had been going quite well, much to his surprise. You hadn’t gotten past the usual small talk, but your daily encounters had definitely taken a turn for the better – who would have thought?
However, with how today had been going so far, the CEO had a feeling that even the smallest thing was enough to set him off and potentially ruin whatever you were working towards.
Oh, if only he’d known how right he was.
“Ah, shit,” you hissed out of nowhere, followed by a loud clanging sound that echoed through the small shop.
The CEO, who had been in the middle of writing a message to Haewon about his money situation, nearly jumped out of his skin at the unexpected noise. He was already on edge as a result of the bad news he’d received this morning. Add to that the fact that he almost hadn’t been able to pay for a simple coffee, and then now this near heart attack.
Seungcheol felt like he was about to reach his fucking breaking point.
“Can’t you fucking watch it?” he snapped, his focus shifting from his phone to you to find out what had caused the commotion.
The CEO realized that his response might have been a little over the top, but he hadn’t been able to control his mouth in the heat of the moment.
Your eyes were wide with shock as you seemed to process what you’d just heard.
“Pardon me?” you finally croaked while clutching onto your left hand.
“The noise,” Seungcheol grumbled. “Some people are trying to work here.”
You exhaled loudly and almost aggressively turned on the faucet before thrusting your hand underneath the water stream.
“Well, I’m sorry for spilling scorching hot milk over my hand,” you retorted, your facial expression slightly souring as soon as the water made contact with your hand.
“Not my fault you’re clumsy.”
“Listen here, you f-” You stopped yourself mid-sentence, your lips sealing shut as you ripped your eyes away from the CEO.
“Yeah? Go right ahead. What were you about to call me, hmm?” he mused, somewhat satisfied that he’d nearly caught you slipping.
“Nothing,” you spoke through gritted teeth, making it pretty clear that you weren’t planning on finishing your previous sentence. Not that Seungcheol would have expected any less.  
He just hummed, leaning himself against the counter with his arms crossed.
“Well, if you’re not going to tell me, you might as well get on with my coffee though. I got other places I need to be,” he said when he noticed that you still hadn’t moved from your spot in front of the sink.
Although you chose not to respond to the CEO’s words, Seungcheol knew damn well that he’d successfully managed to piss you off once again. Your jaw was tense as you not so quietly turned off the faucet and started drying your hands, and he guessed you were desperately trying to hold in whatever you wanted to say by taking a couple of deep breaths.
He knew that he was being unnecessarily hostile today. Instead of keeping his emotions under control like he should have, he’d taken them out on you – not exactly his proudest moment. But then again, it wasn’t like this was the first outburst you’d witnessed from him.
Seungcheol knew that you were able to stand your ground whenever needed, so he wasn’t all that concerned about how his words might have come across. Besides, if he was being honest, he really couldn’t find it in himself to care. His day had already been ruined, and with everything piling up, he just didn’t have it in him to pretend like everything was fine and dandy.
He just wanted his coffee and get out of there so that he could come up with a plan to fix the mess he’d gotten himself involved in.
Fortunately, you seemed just as motivated to finish his coffee and get him out of the shop, practically pushing the cup into his hand by the time it was done while shooting daggers his way.
Yeah, he could definitely kiss that progress goodbye.
Later that night, Seungcheol was once again on his way to JamJam, hoping to grab a melon pan before spending the rest of the night with Kkuma. After all the shit that had gone down today, it was fair to say that the cute little dog was probably the only living being the CEO could tolerate at the moment – mainly because he didn’t have to hide anything from her.
The same thing couldn’t be said about his secretary, though.
Haewon, being the great secretary she was, had luckily managed to solve the CEO’s card issues with only a single call to the bank. Apparently, the fraud department of his bank had blocked his cards due to ‘suspicious activity’ on his account.
This so-called ‘suspicious activity’ had consisted of a series of larger cash withdrawals that had seemed too divergent from his usual withdrawal pattern, all of which had been sufficient cause for concern. What they didn’t know was that it had, in fact, been Seungcheol himself who had taken out the money… to pay the PI he’d hired to look into Wonwoo and his sister.
When Haewon had first brought the news to him, he’d wanted to curse himself for letting his nosy secretary handle this matter. The man had been so focused on trying to hide it from her that he’d forgotten about how the people from the bank might respond. He’d basically been forced to lie about the nature of the withdrawals.
The bank might have believed his bullshit excuse, but the CEO had a feeling that Haewon did not believe a single thing that had come out of his mouth. Thankfully, she hadn’t pressed him for more information, but he knew he had to be even more careful from now on.
As Seungcheol entered his favorite bakery, he greeted Mr. Hashimoto with a small nod and quickly made his way toward the back of the shop, his eyes already set on one particular breadbasket. He reached it within a few seconds, only to be disappointed when he noticed it was completely empty.
“Well, well, well. Look who it is.”
“Fucking hell. Not now,” he whispered to himself before reluctantly turning around.
There you were, a smug look on your face as you dangled a melon pan – the last one – in front of the CEO’s nose. “Let me guess. You’re looking for this?”
Seungcheol rolled his eyes at your obvious taunting. “No shit. How did you know?”
You shrugged. “Just an educated guess. It’s too bad, though, because this seems to be the last one,” you smirked as you dropped the snack into your shopping basket. “Maybe try to be a little faster next time.”
“Whatever,” he mumbled, slightly distracted by the sight of your other hand wrapped up in bandages.
Now that Seungcheol had gotten his emotions somewhat under control, he did feel a little bad about the way he’d behaved towards you this morning.
You’d gotten yourself hurt, and instead of asking if you were okay like any decent human being would have, he’d reacted like a total prick. Of course, Seungcheol knew that the right thing to do in this case was to set his pride aside and apologize, but with the way you were trying to get under his skin right now, he felt the chances of that happening were slim to none.
You awkwardly cleared your throat as you hid your hand inside your sleeve, the action bringing Seungcheol back to the matter at hand… the last melon pan, which you’d managed to snatch yet again.
“J-Just see this as payback for today,” you sputtered before quickly regaining your confidence again. “Maybe if you’d been a little nicer this morning, this melon pan could have been yours. But since you decided to be a dick for whatever reason, I hope you have a nice night crying about not getting a melon pan,” you stated, that smug look making its appearance again.
“You really think I’d cry about something like that?”
“Oh, I know you will. Just like I knew that friendly act of yours was too good to be true. You’re nothing but an entitled asshole who doesn’t know how to treat people with respect,” you spat, speaking your mind now that you didn’t have to worry about your boss.
“You don’t know shit about me,” Seungcheol sneered, not liking the assumptions that were coming from your mouth.
“You’re right. I don’t. And I’m not interested either, so cut the fucking crap and don’t try to insert yourself into my business.”
“Trust me, the feeling is mutual.”
“Good.”
“Good.”
 After a rather uncomfortable silence, you averted your eyes and adjusted the shopping basket you were carrying.
“Well, goodnight,” you mumbled before swiftly walking away, leaving behind an agitated and melon pan-less CEO.
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Little did you know that your next encounter with the CEO would end in complete disaster.
It started out just like any other day, with you getting the coffee shop ready for opening and your boss breathing down your neck as soon as he’d stepped foot inside the shop. And not surprisingly, your lousy co-worker was nowhere to be found when your boss informed you that there’d be a shit ton of work for you to do.
Sanghoon showed up an hour past his official start time, and your superior didn’t seem to care at all, practically welcoming him with open arms and telling him to take it easy today. It took everything in you to bite your tongue when you heard those words coming from your boss. Because how was it that you were working your ass off and trying to keep the shop running while he got to take it fucking easy?
When was this lazy ass piece of shit finally going to get the karma he so much deserved?
It was a little past opening time – with you in the middle of refilling the syrups – when the door to the shop opened. Initially, you thought it was one of your regulars since a couple of them preferred to show up ahead of the morning rush, but when you got up from your crouched position to greet said person, you were met with a woman you’d never seen at the shop before.
“Hi! Can I help you?” you asked, a small smile on your face as you got ready to type in her order.
“Yeah, uhm, I hope so. I’m actually looking for my brother, Sanghoon?”
“Y-Your brother?” you stuttered, eyes widening at the new revelation.
In all your time working together with the slacker, he'd not once shared anything about his personal life. It wasn't like you'd asked him about it either because you weren't the slightest bit interested in anything involving him, but meeting someone related to him certainly piqued your curiosity.
“Yeah,” the woman muttered, a grimace taking over her face. “Is he here?”
“He’s in the back. I could call him for you?” you suggested.
The woman nodded. “That would be great, thanks.”
“Okay. I’ll be right back,” you announced before heading to the back to search for the man in question.
It didn't take you long to find him. He was sitting in his usual spot, headphones covering his ears and full focus on his phone.
“Hey. Your sister’s here. She wants to speak to you." No response. Annoyed at his lack of situational awareness, you snapped your fingers in his line of sight.
“What do you want?” he groaned as he reluctantly took his headphones off.
You crossed your arms. “It's not me who wants anything. Your sister is out front.”
“My sister? What the-” he grumbled before scrambling out of his seat, not even bothering to take his phone with him.
Now, if you knew anything about Sanghoon, it was that he was one with his phone. You'd literally never seen him go anywhere without it, so for him to leave the device behind without a care in the world meant that whatever his sister wanted from him had to be serious.
Thankfully your boss had stepped out for a bit because there was no way you were missing out on this.
You didn't know what you expected to walk in on when you returned to the front of the shop, but you certainly hadn't been prepared for what came out of the woman's mouth.
“Just tell me what you did with the emergency fund money!”
“I don’t know what you want me to tell you. What the hell are you talking about?”
The woman scoffed in disbelief at her brother’s response. “Oh, you know exactly what I’m talking about. I worked my ass off for that money. It was supposed to be for emergencies only, not for you to gamble away whenever you feel like it.”
Oh shit. Did he have a gambling problem?
“Why do you immediately assume I took it? It could have been mom or dad,” Sanghoon argued back.
“Because I know you took it, so don’t lie to me. Everyone knows you have a problem with money, but I’m the only one calling you out on it.”
“You really wanna go there right now?”
“Yes, I do! Because all you do is fuck around and for some absurd reason, everyone worships the ground you walk on. But I’m not falling for that shit. The fact that you still have this job is mind-boggling to me,” the woman chuckled bitterly.
Damn. You didn’t know your co-worker’s sister at all, but you liked her already – anyone who had the balls to call Sanghoon out on his shit was a hero in your eyes.
“Yah! Would you stop embarrassing me at work?”
“Return the money and I just might,” his sister retorted with a smirk.
“I already told you that I didn’t take that damn money, so go find someone else to bother. I’m done here,” Sanghoon sneered before nearly stomping his way towards the back. “Oh,” he started as he stopped in his tracks to face his sister again. “don’t come to my work to accuse me of shit you know nothing about.” After that, he quickly disappeared without another word.
“Asshole,” the woman huffed with a shake of her head.
You took that as your cue to add a little comment of your own. “I’m glad to know someone in the family got blessed with brains,” you grinned.
She couldn’t help but giggle in response. “I know right? Is he giving you a hard time too?”
“Oh, you have no idea. It’s like I’m running this thing by myself most of the time,” you sighed while making your way back to the register.
“I’m so sorry about that,” the woman shook her head. “He’s always been like this and I’m afraid he’s beyond saving at this point.”
You let out a snort at that. “I figured as much. Luckily, I kind of learned to deal with it along the way.”
“I admire you for that,” she laughed.
“Thanks. I try,” you chuckled. “Can I get you anything though? A coffee? Juice? It’s my treat.”
She was quick to shake her head at your offer. “Oh no, you really don’t have to.”
“Please. I insist. The way you handled your brother just now was awesome. I’m so used to seeing everybody praise him for the work Ido, that I never got the chance to see someone put him in his place. So, tell me. What do you want?”
“Well, in that case, I’d like an iced latte,” she smiled.
“I’m on it!”
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After that interesting start to your workday, you went right back to your chores while occasionally helping some customers. Your boss returned not long after Sanghoon’s sister left the shop, not missing a single opportunity to order you around as you made your way through your to-do list.
Then finally came the moment you’d been dreading since yesterday – Melon pan dude’s morning coffee run.
As he entered the shop, you noticed he was once again wearing his signature orange beanie, paired with a black mask and the brown coat you’d seen him wear before.
All hopes of the two of you reconciling and picking up where you left off had been crushed as a result of yesterday’s events, so to say you were happy to see him was an understatement. But just because you disliked the man and wanted nothing more than to stay as far away from him as possible, didn’t mean that you couldn’t be cordial and professional during work hours. After all, he was still a customer and your boss was watching, so really all you could do was try to prepare his coffee as quickly as possible and refrain from any unnecessary communication.
So, that’s exactly what you did.
“The usual?” you asked before he’d even reached the counter.
“Uh, yeah,” he nodded while reaching for his wallet.
“Coming right up,” you said after you’d finalized his card payment.
“Mr. Choi!” your boss’ voice sounded as he returned from the back, Sanghoon following closely behind. “Glad to see you back again. How’s the business going?”
“It’s fine,” the CEO responded with a hint of annoyance.
“You’re too modest! I heard you secured another great deal this week. You’re truly an inspiration for many, including myself,” your superior gushed.
It was pathetic really, how he tried to get into the CEO’s good graces when it was so obvious that he wanted nothing to do with him. Either your boss just didn’t care or he seriously lacked the ability to pick up on social cues.
You simply chose to block out their voices after that, putting your full attention on the coffee you were making because you did not want to hear your boss kissing the man’s ass so early in the morning.
It was only after you’d completed the order that you finally snapped out of your concentration bubble. Your boss seemed to have given up and was now talking to Sanghoon about lord knows what, while Melon pan dude was buried in his phone, probably doing something work-related.
After lightly clearing your throat, you placed the cup on the counter. “Your order is ready.”
The CEO’s head snapped up at your words, his phone momentarily forgotten as he walked up to grab his coffee.
“Thanks,” he muttered as he reached for a cup sleeve and a lid.
You nodded before turning away from him to resume with the dishes, not wanting to wait for him to exit the shop. Apparently, that was a big mistake. 
“Y/N!” your boss suddenly hissed, startling you with the intensity of his tone. “What happened to wishing our customers a nice day?”
“I’m sorry, Sir. I didn’t realize.” Okay, that might have been a lie, but he didn’t need to know that. You just hadn’t felt the need to say anything else to the CEO at that moment.
“This is exactly why I can’t trust you to do anything right. Tell me why I never have to tell Sanghoon how to behave towards customers?” Your jaw clenched at the mention of that useless potato, but you kept your mouth shut, not wanting to risk angering him even further. “I’ve said this again and again, but you should take some notes from him. Because unlike you, he’s been doing a wonderful job.”
“You’re kidding me, right?” The unexpected interruption caused both you and your boss to turn your heads toward the source of the voice.
It was Melon pan dude, who apparently, had not yet left the shop after grabbing his coffee. Instead, he was right at the counter, a death glare directed at the older man standing beside you, which you knew couldn’t mean anything good.
You’d seen how things had ended with Mrs. Park and you did not want a repetition of that, especially not when your boss was one of the main characters.
Speaking of whom, said man was quick to change his attitude, his tone switching from harsh to soft in only a matter of seconds as he addressed the CEO.
“S-Sir?”
The businessman rolled his eyes at that before speaking up. “The way you’re reprimanding her and telling her to be more like that lazy shit when I literally haven’t seen him do a single useful thing around here.”
“I-I can assure you that Sanghoon is a very capable barista,” your boss stuttered, thoroughly surprised by the CEO’s blunt criticism.
The other man chuckled in response. Hell, you had the urge to do the same at the sound of that ridiculous statement, but you didn’t want to add any more fuel to the fire.
“I think that might be the biggest joke I’ve heard this year. You do realize that this shop wouldn’t be running without her, right?” He pointed in your direction, letting his eyes rest on yours for a moment before shifting back to their original target. “I’ve unfortunately had to try his coffee once, and it was guaranteed the worst coffee I’ve ever tasted.”
“The worst coffee? Sanghoon? No, that can’t be,” your boss shook his head in disbelief. “Y/N must have made a mistake with your coffee.”
This fucking asshole.
“Are you really that much of a misogynist that you can’t admit your guy can’t make coffee to save his life?”
“Of course n-not! I just refuse to believe he would serve anything that awful in my shop.”
Oh, if only he knew how many coffee orders you’d had to salvage as a result of your co-worker’s non-existing barista skills.
“Well, I’ll be happy to burst that delusional bubble you reside in. Letting that guy,” he pointed to Sanghoon, who looked like he couldn’t give two shits about anything being said about him, “prepare coffee should be considered a crime.” Then, the businessman leaned forward as he moved his finger in your boss’ direction. “And so should mistreating your hardworking employees.”
“Mr. Choi! Where is all of this coming from?”
You nearly rolled your eyes at the act he was putting up in front of the CEO, who could clearly see past his bullshit.
“You know, I was going to leave it at the bad review I left a few days ago, just because I didn’t want to cause a scene. But the fact that you think I haven’t noticed your disgusting behavior is beyond me,” the other man scoffed.
“Bad review? That was y-you?” Your boss was at a loss for words at that unexpected confession. You just stood there in shock as you listened to the whole thing go down.
The shop hadn’t gotten any bad reviews in a few months, so you remembered that review all too well – your boss had made sure of that. Seeing as he was obsessed with maintaining the shop’s ‘perfect’ image on Naver, he’d made it a habit to check the reviews every single chance he got. So, when he’d seen that first thing in the morning, he completely flipped out.
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No surprise, he’d taken his frustrations out on you, lecturing you about customer service and making coffee as if you hadn’t been doing it for years already. Funnily enough, it wasn’t even you that the reviewer had criticized, which made the outburst he’d directed at you that much more absurd.
Despite the shit your boss had given you for it, you’d silently enjoyed the jabs the reviewer had taken at the two men because someone had actually voiced the things you couldn’t say.
But now that you knew Melon pan dude had been behind the review, you just wished he’d kept the entire thing to himself.
It was one thing for your boss to discover one of his customers had insulted him, but for him to find out it had been the CEO he so admired was guaranteed to backfire on you. And now, with the CEO pretty much standing up for you, you could only assume that today was going to be rough. So much for telling the guy to stay out of your business.  
“Yes, I wrote it,” the CEO smirked before quickly turning serious again. “And mark my words. If I see you mistreat your employee again, I won’t hesitate to use my real name next time. Now that would be bad for business.”
“Mr. Choi. You have it totally wrong,” your boss tried to defend himself, but it was pretty clear that any attempt was futile at this point. He’d royally screwed things up with his favorite VIP customer.
“Save it,” the CEO shook his head. “Fix that attitude first,” he frowned before swiftly turning around and leaving the shop without another word. 
“What the hell did you do?” the man sneered as soon as the door had closed, leaving you to deal with the mess.
“I’m not quite sure what you mean, Sir,” you said, feeling genuinely confused.
Your boss scowled, turning his full body to face you this time. “Cut the shit, Y/N. What did you have to do to get him to say all that?”
What the hell was he on about?
“Sir, I don’t know what you want me to say. I didn’t do anything,” you emphasized, already preparing yourself for this conversation to go completely left.
“Bullshit. I’ve seen the way you interact with him. Even Sanghoon told me he’s noticed something going on between you two. So, tell me. What is it? Are you sleeping with him. Is that it?”
Your breathing hitched for a second, your mind processing the words that had just left your boss’ mouth. You? Sleeping with Mr. Rich and Famous? No. This was so not happening right now.
This was exactly the reason why you didn’t need Melon pan dude to fight your battles because look at where it got you.
“No, you’re wrong,” you shook your head, your voice quivering as you felt yourself start to shake from the adrenaline rushing through your body.
To know your good-for-nothing co-worker and your boss had been talking about you and the CEO was already a no-go in your eyes. But the fact your own boss would suggest such an awful thing made you feel more than a little disgusted.
The man was obviously in the wrong – there was no doubt about that – but you also needed to set some serious boundaries with the guy that had gotten you in this predicament in the first place. If he’d just let you do your work and kept his mouth shut, none of this would have happened.
“What do you think you’re doing?” your boss snapped when he noticed you start to loosen your apron.
“I need a break,” you grumbled, already having made up your mind about your next move. If you were quick, you might still be able to catch the dude before he took off. 
“Like hell you are. You’re going back to work.”
“I need a break, Sir.”
“Take a break and do what? To see that little boyfriend of yours? Yeah, I don’t think so,” he snapped.
Fuck it. You weren’t about to put up with any more of these absurd accusations – you had at least that much self-worth. Who did he think he was to put you on the spot like that? And for what? All because he got his little ego hurt by the CEO?
Enough was enough.
Against your boss’ orders, you ripped off your apron and slammed it down onto the counter right in front of his eyes. It was probably the boldest move you’d ever made, but you didn’t care. You were livid and you needed to fix this mess.
“I swear to God, Y/N. If you even think of going out there, you’re fired, you hear me?” your boss called when he noticed you storming towards the exit.
The thing was, his threat went in one ear and out the other. You’d already committed to your decision when you’d ripped off your apron, so turning back was not an option for you. Besides, as if this shop would survive without you. You estimated the chance of your boss actually firing you during these busy times close to zero, so you were willing to take that risk for now.
“Y/N! Come back here! Y/N! I’m serious!” your boss screamed, his voice echoing through the entire shop.
But it was all in vain because you were already outside, the door shutting behind you and drowning out the sound of his angry screams.
To your surprise, you spotted the man you were hoping to find leaning against his fancy sports car, almost as if he’d known you would be coming to find him. At least good to know you hadn’t risked it all for nothing.
“Yah! Melon pan dude!” you called, stalking right up to him.
He chuckled as he pushed himself away from the driver’s door. “Melon pan dude? That’s what you’ve decided on?”
You chose to ignore that comment and cut straight to the point. “What the hell is your problem?”
“What my problem is?” he scoffed and took off his beanie to run a hand through his blond locks. “I did you a favor there, you know? The man is a fucking ass and you constantly let him walk over you like it’s nothing. That’s my fucking problem.”
“So what? You think that because you’re some big-shot CEO you can just force yourself into my life and mess with my job? What happened to staying out of my fucking business?” you bit back.
“This has nothing to do with me being a CEO and you know it. It’s about human decency and respect, which that piece of shit inside clearly doesn’t know anything about. If you can’t see why I had to say something, then you’re not the person I thought you were,” he snapped, a deep frown forming on his face. 
“That’s just it! You don’t fucking know me, so why the hell do you even care? I’ve been doing fine without your help.”
“Fine?” He shook his head. “You call letting someone treat you like shit being fine? You’re not fooling me.”
“I don���t need you to tell me how I should feel, Mr. Know-It-All. Why can’t you get that through that big brain of yours?”
“Alright, you wanna be treated like crap? Be my guest,” he sneered, his eyes practically burning holes into your own. “But don’t be surprised when the whole thing backfires on you.”
“Just stay out of my business,” you warned, your stare just as intense as his. “That clear enough for you?”
“Don’t worry. I got the message,” he grumbled with a roll of his eyes before ripping his car door open. “Stubborn woman,” he breathed, but it was loud enough for you to hear.
Who the hell was he calling stubborn? He was the one inserting himself in situations that didn’t concern him, so if anyone was stubborn, it was him. You weren’t about to tell him that, though, not if you wanted to prevent the situation from further escalating. Besides, you’d already spent more than enough time arguing with the man, so it was about time you ended it before it would start attracting curious passersby.
Instead, you chose to stay silent as he got inside the fancy vehicle.
“Oh.” You prevented his door from closing by quickly placing your hand on the door panel, which earned you a surprised look in return. “You better find a different coffee shop.”
With that, you took your leave and made your way back towards the shop, where there would no doubt be more problems awaiting you.
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Turned out your boss was actually serious about firing you. After you returned from your little squabble with Melon pan dude, you walked straight into your worst nightmare.
With a few customers in the shop, your boss gave you a death glare that had you shaking in your boots, and then, not so subtly, motioned for you to meet him in the back. You knew that there was no way of getting out of this, but that didn’t make you any less nervous.
You were right to be so, though, because all hell broke loose the second you’d shut the door behind you.
First, he yelled at you for disobeying him, after which he had the audacity to throw some more ridiculous accusations about you and the CEO your way. And then before you knew it, the man fired you without even letting you get so much as a word in. He made you turn in all your things and practically escorted you out the back of the shop as soon as you’d packed up, all within the span of five minutes.
The whole thing was so surreal that it took a few minutes of you standing outside to process the fact that you were now officially out of a job. You’d never been fired before, so the gravity of the whole situation really hit you when you realized you had no plan B to fall back on.
How the hell were you going to find something else on such short notice? Digging into your hard-earned savings to pay your rent was not something you had ever planned on doing, but it certainly seemed like a possibility now that you lost your only source of income. And rightfully so, that thought made you anxious.
You walked home with tears streaming down your face that morning. By the time the first sob escaped from your lips, you’d already forced yourself to move out of the shop’s vicinity – you didn’t want to risk your now ex-boss seeing you so vulnerable. And yes, you knew that it was pathetic to cry over losing a job where you weren’t even happy, but you couldn’t help it. It was like you’d turned on the faucet without a way to turn it off.
There were definitely a bunch of curious stares and disapproving looks thrown your way as you tried to navigate through Seoul with your blurred vision. If it had been any other day, you’d have hated the attention, but in your state, you just had too much going through your head to focus on something so frivolous.
One overly concerned lady even came up to you, asking if everything was alright and if there was anything she could do for you. The gesture was sweet, but the last thing you wanted to do in that moment was explain your shitty situation to a complete stranger. So, instead of sharing your troubles with her, you tried to assure her that it was nothing but a bad day and that you’d be fine in no time. It actually took quite some convincing to shake her off, but after telling her multiple times that there really was nothing to worry about, she finally let you go.
Following that brief interaction, you decided to stop by JamJam to get yourself a plethora of consolidation snacks, including a bunch of melon pan that could last you a couple of days.
Mr. Hashimoto immediately took note of the state you were in as soon as you stepped inside the shop, greeting him with bloodshot eyes and wet cheeks. Thankfully, he wasn’t one to pry and left you to it for the most part, which you very much appreciated. That was just the type of man he was, way too sweet for his own good.
In all your time of knowing Mr. Hashimoto, you didn’t think there had ever been a day he and his delicious treats hadn’t managed to cheer you up, which is probably why you visited the shop as much as you did.
Fortunately, that morning was no different – he gave you a generous discount and a few extra pastries that he knew you loved and sent you on your way with a few encouraging words and two bags full of heavenly goodies.
For the next few days that followed, you worked your way through those two bags without a care in the world. You alternated between crying your eyes out and stuffing your face with the sugary sweets while watching every true crime documentary you could find.
Only when there was nothing left for you to munch on or cry about, you decided that you’d had spent enough time wallowing in self-pity and forced yourself to crawl out of the blanket fort you had lived in for the past three days.
Being out of commission for a couple of days also meant that you hadn’t touched your phone since you’d entered your apartment and settled down in your blanket fort. But now that you had freshened up and sat down at your small dinner table with a fresh cup of coffee, your laptop, and your phone fully charged, you had to deal with the many missed calls and texts, most of them from your mom.
It wasn’t uncommon for her and your dad to check up on you at least once or twice a week. You knew there were plenty of people who would be ecstatic to receive all that attention from their parents, but not you.
All throughout your childhood and teenage years, your parents had felt the obsessive need to control every aspect of your life. It ranged from telling you how to style your hair and how to dress, to who you could or could not interact with.
It was so bad that the few friends that you did have eventually broke off all contact with you. You couldn’t blame them – because who wanted to hang out with a girl whose parents were so controlling and scary all the time?
But still, that didn’t make you feel any less lonely throughout the years.
Unfortunately, it didn’t stop there though. No. They even went as far as to sign you up for law school without so much as discussing it with you, basically forcing their preferred career path down your throat without a single regard for your wants and needs.
That’s really when you had enough. You didn’t want to go to some stupid law school, and you definitely didn’t want to follow in your dad’s footsteps and become a litigation lawyer. You wanted to be able to make your own decisions and get a taste of that adult life you’d been dreaming about for so long.
That’s why, after many many arguments and your parents threatening to cut you off, you finally made the decision to leave the place you’d called home for as long as you could remember.
When you first moved to Seoul, you didn’t have much aside from some money you had saved up. Your parents had lived up to their words and completely stopped giving you money, but you weren’t going to let that stop you from following your dreams of being independent.
For years, you had lived comfortably, never having to worry about being able to afford food, clothes, presents, you name it – one of the perks with your dad being a top lawyer and all. But with that luxury had come a ton of rules and restrictions that you wouldn’t even want to wish upon your worst enemy.
If finally being free meant that you actually had to work for your money for once, and struggle just like any other normal person, you were happy to do it. Besides, you never were about that fancy lifestyle anyway. A simple life where you could do whatever you wanted was all you needed.
So, you took on a couple of restaurant jobs to get yourself settled in, and as a result, you discovered your true passion – coffee making. You’d always been an avid coffee drinker and very much enjoyed the whole brewing process, but making a career out of it had never really crossed your mind. That was until you saw just how beautiful and satisfying the art of coffee making could be.
Seeing your barista co-workers create such pretty and tasty creations made you eager to try it out yourself, which eventually inspired you to enroll in a barista course and get your diploma.
Eventually, slowly but surely, after hours and hours of practicing your brewing and latte art skills, you became a true pro at your job.
It had taken a couple of years of you proving that you could make it out there without any help from your parents, but here you were, doing just fine without them. You were pretty sure they thought you’d come crawling back within no time and beg them to send you to that damn law school, but boy had they been wrong. When they understood that you were, in fact, not planning on coming back home, they gradually came around and dropped the whole “I want you to follow in your father’s footsteps” agenda.
At least, that’s what they made it seem like.
Initially, you’d been happy about the regular calls with your parents, mainly because you thought that they were genuinely happy for you and had finally accepted the barista path you’d chosen. But as the weeks passed, you realized that was far from the truth. Your parents might have thought they were being slick with their ‘positive’ approach, but it didn’t take you long to see right through it.
The constant calls were simply a means to keep an eye on you, making sure that you weren’t making a fool out of yourself in their absence while at the same time jumping at every opportunity to criticize your barista work.
It was for that exact reason you decided it was best not to tell your parents about the whole getting fired thing. Because although your friends were in the loop about your work situation, your parents definitely weren’t – and you liked keeping it that way. As far as they knew, you had an amazing job with a stable income and a boss who valued your work. Knowing how much they disapproved of your big move and career choice, this news would simply give them a reason to tell you a big fat “I told you so,” and you really didn’t want to hear any of that.
It was already bad enough that you’d ended up in this situation in the first place, so any form of negativity from your parents on top of that was something you didn’t think you could handle right now.
What you did need was a new job… fast. Because if you had to spend another week cooped up in your apartment feeling sorry for yourself, you would no doubt lose it.
Unfortunately, that task proved to be harder than you thought. While there were many barista opportunities in a big city such as Seoul, none of them particularly caught your attention.
The majority of the coffee shops out there only offered part-time positions, which you had no choice but to cross off your list. With only two or three days of work, you’d be forced to take on another job if you wanted to be able to afford rent, andthat was definitely out of the question.
As for the full-time positions you could find, they would all put you in a position that was way less favorable than you were currently in – living from paycheck to paycheck was not something you ever wanted to go back to. But then again, it wasn’t like you were in any position to be picky either.
“Ugh, what am I gonna do?” you groaned, slamming your laptop shut before burying your face into your hands in frustration.
If someone had told you two weeks ago that you’d be out of a job and considering a downgrade in salary, you probably would have declared them insane. But low and behold, that was the reality you were currently living, and it made you angrier than you would have expected.
You were angry at your asshole ex-boss for treating you like crap and always thinking the worst of you. You were angry at your lousy excuse of a co-worker, Sanghoon, for feeding your ex-boss a bunch of lies about you behind your back and basically throwing you under the bus despite all the shit you’d done to save his ass. Hell, you were even angry at yourself for letting your emotions get the better of you and allowing it to end the way it did. But absolutely nothing beat the anger you felt towards the man who had been at the center of it all – Melon pan dude.  
Everything had been going just fine until that entitled prick showed up and decided to ruin your life. Perhaps ‘just fine’ wasn’t the best way to describe it, but at least you had been able to get by all that time without any major issues.
Then he came along and changed everything, whether he intended to or not.
Honestly, the more you thought about it, the more you felt like you should have known that he would be trouble the moment he set foot inside the shop.
Somewhere deep inside, you probably already knew he would be trouble, especially given the circumstances of your first meeting. Oh, and who could forget about the orange juice incident? Or the encounter with Mrs. Park? Not to mention the numerous provocations he had thrown your way over the past week and a half.
But even despite all of that, you never could have known that the CEO would indirectly become the reason for your getting fired.
Of course, you weren’t completely innocent either. You could have taken the time to think things through and approached the situation calmly, but instead, you let your emotions get the better of you and chose to confront him in the middle of your shift with your superior right there.
Then again, if only the dude hadn’t opened his big mouth, your ex-boss wouldn’t have said those awful things about you and him in the first place. And as a result of that, you wouldn’t have gone outside to look for him, and your boss wouldn’t have had to threaten you with your job – in other words, all of this could have been prevented if he had just stayed away from Oh My! Coffee like he said he would.
The man just had a talent for worming his way into people’s business and getting on their nerves. How he got away with it every single time was beyond you.
Your guess was that being managing CEO of a multi-billion-dollar business had something to do with that. Being in that position also meant that he would never have to worry about getting fired or running out of savings, and it just wasn’t fair. While you were out here being miserable, he was out there living his life while driving around in his fancy sports car, probably not even aware of the disaster he’d caused with his meddling.
Just what was so special about him? You didn’t get it.
Without even realizing it you’d already opened up your laptop once again, this time for a completely different purpose. You’d vowed to never research the man and become one of those people, but it was like your fingers had a mind of their own.
You needed to know what he was like outside of your interactions with him, so where better to look than the Internet?
Job ads long forgotten, you typed in the CEO’s name and clicked on one of the first articles that popped up. It was one of him closing a business deal with some big international corporation that would make him and the other CEOs of SEVENTEEN World even richer than they already were. Good for them and all, but it wasn’t exactly the type of content you were looking for.
If you wanted the gossip and details about his social life, you needed to turn to the blogs instead. That’s how you eventually ended up on Dispatch’s website, scouring their many articles about the man for anything that seemed interesting enough.
It didn’t take long for you to find something useful. You discovered that he had a younger sister who was a successful lawyer at a high-end law firm. There wasn’t really a lot of information aside from some details about his sister and a few pictures of the two of them together, so you were about to close it and move on to something else.
That was until you stumbled on another article that was linked to the one you were reading. The post was a little older – as in three years older – and the title read ‘Protective or Controlling? What to make of SEVENTEEN World’s CEO Choi Seungcheol?’.
“Why doesn’t this surprise me?” you snorted as you skimmed through the article with a newfound curiosity.
If you had to believe everything that was being said, he was extremely protective of her. Or, as others have described, perhaps a little controlling at times. The article mentioned a couple of instances, but the one that stood out most was the SEVENTEEN World anniversary party, where apparently, several reporters had noticed the CEO clinging to his sister’s side for pretty much the entirety of the evening.
Dispatch had even included a video with a little snippet of said event, where you could clearly see what the article had described in detail.
“Poor woman,” you mumbled, grimacing as you watched how the man shamelessly pulled his sister away from the small group of men she had been happily conversing with.
It was quite obvious from her facial expressions that she was anything but happy with her brother’s actions, but she just went along with it for the public’s sake, no doubt.
Seeing all of that reminded you a little bit of you and your parents back when you were still in high school. They had been less obvious than the CEO in their approach, but they were always very clear about keeping you away from “people not worth your time” or whatever the hell that meant.
So naturally, you felt bad seeing someone as successful as her having to deal with something – or rather someone – like that. But who knows? Perhaps he was, in fact, doing it to protect her for reasons not mentioned in the article. You could only infer so much from a couple of described instances and a 20-second-long clip without any additional context regarding their history.
The only thing you did know for sure after doing your little research was that his love for sticking his nose in people’s business was not just restricted to you.
By the time you finally ripped your eyes away from your laptop to check the time, a good hour and a half had passed since you started looking into Melon pan dude. You had been so caught up in trying to dig up information about the guy that you’d completely lost sight of your initial goal – finding a job that would pay the bills.
See? Even when he wasn’t around, he still had the ability to mess with your mind… and you hated it.
“Get your shit together, Y/N,” you whispered to yourself as you sat back down behind your laptop after a short break, now with a new cup of coffee to motivate yourself for another hour or two.
But that coffee only lasted you so long, and so did your motivation.
Just thirty minutes into your search you had already reached the point where you wanted to shut your laptop and call it a day. You almost did actually, already in the process of closing all your tabs when the Dispatch tab you’d forgotten to get rid of before distracted you again.
Only this time, it wasn’t an article that caught your attention but a job ad that had popped up on the right side of the screen. It was a barista opportunity, which, ironically enough, came from Cat Café SEVENTEEN, one of SEVENTEEN World’s large enterprises.
For just a moment after clicking the ad, you hesitated. Not because you hated the idea of working at a cat café, but because of its association with Melon pan dude, whom you wanted to avoid at all costs. That thought alone was enough not to want to entertain the idea in the first place. But then you made the mistake of glimpsing at the proposed salary, which threw all those thoughts right out the window.
The pay was at least a twenty percent upgrade from your salary at Oh My! Coffee for only five days a week, which was crazy, considering you used to work six days a week plus unpaid overtime. On top of that, you would be working evenings for the majority of your shifts, which meant extra time to sleep and worry-free mornings. Considering the fact that you were not a morning person, this arrangement would be more than fine with you.
And then there was, of course, the fact that it was a freaking cat café. You hadn’t yet had the chance to visit their Seoul location – or any location for that matter – but from what you’d read on the official website, customers were highly encouraged to play and cuddle with the cats during their visits. You were a big animal lover, with cats and dogs tying at the top of your list, so it only made the place seem that much more appealing.
The obvious connection between the café and Melon pan dude did briefly cross your mind again as you read through the vacancy, but those worries were quick to dissipate when you stumbled upon a list of the twenty cats currently residing at the café.
Who in their right mind could say no to those cute little faces? You definitely couldn’t, nor did you want to pass up on such a great opportunity.
That’s why you decided to send in your application before that little voice in the back of your mind could convince you to back out. 
In all honesty, you were prepared for the worst – especially seeing as bad luck just seemed to follow you wherever you went – which is why you were all the more shocked when you got an email notification not even three hours later. You’d been in the middle of drinking yet another cup of coffee, which you nearly spit out at the sight of the sender and subject header.
“No fucking way,” you breathed, a small smile forming on your lips as you carefully read through the email. Maybe there was still a little bit of luck left in you after all.
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“Y/N, right?”
“Yes. Thank you for considering me, Mr. Choi,” you greeted the man you’d come to know as the CEO of Cat Café SEVENTEEN – Choi Hansol.
You would expect him to be super busy, having to manage all those cafes in different locations and all. But here he was, meeting you for your interview as if he didn’t have anything better to do. You didn’t know whether to be honored or anxious.
“No need to be so formal,” he chuckled before sitting down a comfortable-looking chair. “Just Vernon is fine. Please. Take a seat.”
“Right. Thank you,” you mumbled and sat down in the other available chair.
Now that you were sitting right across from the man, you suddenly felt the nerves creep into your body. The way he had made it sound on paper was everything you could have dreamed of – almost too good to be true even. But you truly hoped that wasn’t all it was because if you had to relive another Oh My! Coffee experience, you were going to punch a wall.
“Your resume is impressive. Barista certificates, work experience, and people skills. We’ve been looking for another experienced barista for quite some time now,” he nodded before crossing his arms in front of his chest. “If you don’t mind me asking, is there a specific reason you left your previous job?”
“Oh, uh, I…” Shit. Now what? Telling your prospective boss that you got fired from your previous job would certainly not help you leave a good first impression. However, lying was also not how you wanted to go about it.  “Well, it’s a little complicated, I guess,” was all you could come up with in your panic.
Way to fuck it up, Y/N.
“Complicated, huh?” the CEO mused, his brows furrowing as he studied the documents in front of him.
Oh no. Was this going to be the moment he tells you it isn’t going to work out after all?
“Let me guess? You got fired?”
Your eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets at his speculation. “Yes,” you whispered before quickly averting your eyes in embarrassment. This interview was so not going how you wanted it to go.
“I see. Your resume tells me you worked at Oh My! Coffee, which means that Park Wonshik must have been your boss, correct?” He waited for your confirmation, which you gave by slowly nodding your head while wondering where he was going with this. “Well, I don’t know him personally, but I’ve heard a couple of things about the man. Word travels around fast in my world and he’s known to have a rather… how should I say this? Unorthodox way of handling things, I guess is the right way to put it?” he chuckled.
“You could say that,” you muttered, feeling a surge of anger spread through your body at the thought of that jackass. Watch him ruin your chances of getting another job without even having to lift a goddamn finger.
The sound of paper rustling snapped you out of your little trance. “What I’m trying to say is that I’m not going to hold this against you,” he started while folding the documents he’d been looking at just a few moments ago. “We’ve all had to deal with shitty bosses at some point, so no need to look so scared,” he grinned, which took you by surprise.
“I’m willing to give everyone a chance if I think they’re a fit. I’d like to think of myself as a pretty laid-back boss, so as long as you work hard, we won’t have any problems.”
Well, that was definitely not what you expected to come out of his mouth. Perhaps you’d been too quick to jump to conclusions.
After having spent less than ten minutes in his presence, you could already tell that the CEO sitting in front of you was the complete opposite of the CEO who had made your life hell for the past two weeks.
For one, he did not give off ‘entitled prick’ vibes. On the contrary, he seemed like one of the most chill guys you’d ever met. If you hadn’t done your research and looked him up before meeting him, there was no way you would have believed someone like him to be one of the country’s most successful businessmen. The fact that he was conducting your interview in jeans and a simple white t-shirt paired with a jean jacket told you as much. You were all for it, though. A suit would have made the whole thing much more formal, and seeing as you were nervous enough as it was, the casual outfit certainly helped relieve some of the tension.
You just needed to make sure he liked you enough to hire you.  
“Alright!” The CEO clapped his hands. “Now that we have that out of the way, I have a very important question to ask you,” he said, suddenly turning very serious as he slightly leaned himself forward.
“How do you feel about cats?”
You couldn’t help but release the breath you’d unknowingly been holding, suddenly feeling a lot more relaxed. “Oh, I love cats! Lived with three of them back home, so I’m very comfortable around them,” you smiled brightly.
The man across from you nodded, seemingly satisfied with your response. “Good, I just wanted to be sure. We’re a cat café after all, so you’ll be stuck with them every shift,” he laughed, which you returned with laughter of your own.
“Oh, please. I hardly see that as a punishment. If I’m being honest, the cats were actually the reason I was so excited to come here in the first place,” you confessed, hoping that it didn’t make you sound like a complete suck-up. It was true though. Their presence would no doubt make your workdays much more bearable.
“Is that so? Well, in that case, would you like to meet them?”
You were already nodding before he’d even finished his sentence. “I’d love that, Sir.”
“Didn’t I tell you to drop the formalities?” he grinned while getting up from his chair.
“Right, sorry,” you mumbled, not used to being so informal with a higher-up.
“Don’t worry about it,” he shook his head, motioning you to get up. “You coming or what?”
You nearly jumped out of your chair at his question, already thrilled at the thought of getting to meet every single one of those adorable kitties.
“Yes, right behind you!”
He ended up guiding you out of his office and through part of the café before opening a door that led to a large, cozy-looking room.
The giant space was filled with cat trees and houses of various sizes, fancy cat beds, and an abundance of cat toys, some of which you didn’t even know existed. Most of the walls were decorated with jumping platforms, tiny ladders, and cute hammocks suitable for cats, which gave it a little bit of a playground vibe.
It was like you’d stepped right into cat paradise, and you loved everything about it. You literally couldn’t stop admiring while the CEO provided you with more information.
“This is the room the cats reside in when the café is closed. Since we open at ten, we already moved them into the café, but I just wanted to give you a better picture of how we do things around here.”
“Is there anyone who checks up on the cats during the night?” you asked, noticing a few cameras mounted to the ceiling.
“Yes, we have a special caretaker who checks up on them twice a night. He usually helps me move the cats from one room to the next after closing and makes sure they get the right food and treatments. We have a vet on call in case of emergencies as well. Oh, and she also does their monthly check-ups.”
“Wow, that sounds like a great system,” you replied, finally managing to put your full focus on the CEO once again. 
“We kinda have to with so many cats,” he snickered before motioning you to follow him again. “Without this system, we wouldn’t be able to do even a quarter of the things we’re doing.”
You quickly followed behind him, trying your best to store all the information he was telling you while trying not to trip over your own feet.
He finally stopped in front of another door, this time a larger and prettier one that was made entirely out of glass. Now that you got a good look at it, you observed that the walls in this part of the café were made of glass as well.
Realizing that you were admiring the glass construction, the CEO turned to face you. “Pretty isn’t it? During the designing phase, I decided to section off a small part of the café and turn it into a cat-free zone. With a lot of people coming in for their to-go orders, we just didn’t want to put unnecessary stress on the cats. Also, there are several regulars who love our drinks and sweets but don’t want to be surrounded by cats all the time, so it works out perfectly,” he explained.
“That’s actually… genius. You’re so smart,” you mumbled, which earned another laugh from the CEO.
“I know right? I have my moments.”
“Right. Of course you do,” you breathed, feeling the heat rush to your cheeks.
Of course he was smart. How else would he have become so successful? Obviously not by making a bunch of impulsive decisions.
“You ready?” he looked at you expectantly.
“Very.”
That was all the confirmation he needed before he opened the big glass doors. Your eyes went wide at the sight that greeted you.
This part of the café was huge, even bigger than the cat room you’d been in before. Aside from the cat trees and wall-climbing constructions that could also be found in the other room, this room had a completely different vibe.
First, you noticed that there were numerous small benches placed against the walls throughout the entire room, with another few dozen small tables located in the center to utilize the space to its full capacity. Then your eyes fell on a big open area on the left side of the room, which was decorated with a variety of bean bags and two large boxes with plenty of cat toys to choose from.
It was another cat paradise. That was for sure.
You were – again – so distracted by the layout of the room that you hadn’t even noticed the ball of fur approaching you. “Oh! Hi there, cutie. Who might you be?” you cooed at the cat that was now rubbing against your legs.
“That’s Aeng-Du. She’s a curious one. Feel free to pick her up. She loves attention and cuddles.”
You didn’t need any more encouragement after that and quickly leaned down to scoop the fluffy cat into your arms. It was the best feeling ever and you wished it didn’t have to come to an end. The last time you held a cat was years ago, so you’d almost forgotten what it felt like to cuddle one – heavenly, that was the only way to describe it.
Not long after that, other cats started showing up. There was Suk, whom you were told was a very clingy baby who needed lots of cuddles. There were Kyu and Hae, two siblings who were found in a dumpster and now living their best lives at the cat café. There was Bin, who was described as the clumsy one of the group, always tripping over his own paws. And there were many more, but there simply wasn’t enough time to pet them all.
There was, however, one cat that seemed reluctant to approach you, never straying too far from the CEO but at the same time keeping an eye on you at all times.
“Who’s that?” You pointed to the cat hiding behind the CEO’s legs.
“This? This is Jang-Mi, one of our newest additions. She’s been getting along with the other cats just fine, but she’s still a little scared when it comes to meeting new people. She just needs some time to warm up,” he said and leaned down to scratch her cute little forehead.
“Are you familiar with our concept?”
“I am!” you nodded, smiling down at a now fast-asleep Suk in your arms. “I think it’s wonderful that you’re giving these cats a chance to find a new home like this. They’re adorable.”
You thought the concept of a café and adoption center in one was simply ingenious. While the cats were given the chance to find their forever homes like this, customers were able to find a furry friend they could shower with love and affection. And the relaxing atmosphere certainly helped them get closer in a more natural setting. It was a win-win situation.
“Who knows? You might end up adopting one yourself at some point. They are very hard to resist,” he smirked.
“I wish,” you sighed.
Although the thought of adopting a cat was very tempting, your small apartment was not at all suitable for a cat. Besides, your landlord didn’t allow pets, so that was definitely out of the question… for now, at least.
“Ah, before I forget, there’s one final test.”
“Final test?” you questioned, gently placing Suk inside one of the cat beds near the closest wall.
“Yes. You don’t think I’d let you prepare coffee for my customers without having tasted it, right?”
“Oh,” you breathed, relieved that it wasn’t anything impossible. “Of course, Si- Vernon,” you quickly corrected yourself when you noticed him giving you a look. It was going to take a while to get used to the first-name basis thing.
Reluctantly, you left the kitties behind to do what you actually came here to do – making coffee.
Vernon introduced you to Jay and Areum, two very bubbly staff members who took care of most of the serving and assisted with the making of non-caffeinated drinks during the busy hours.
You also met Jia, the barista responsible for the morning shift, who was kind enough to tell you all you needed to know. It was so refreshing to see that, unlike Sanghoon, all of them actually knew what they were doing and contributed something rather than sitting on their asses all day.
If you did end up getting the job by some miracle, you at least wouldn’t be doing all the work by yourself like you’d been doing for over two years.
After that short information session, Vernon instructed you to make a few of the most popular coffee drinks on the menu for him to taste: an iced Americano, a flat white, a vanilla latte, an espresso, and a cappuccino.
The task sounded easy enough. If anything, you’d probably be able to do all of those with your eyes closed, latte art included. But seeing as you didn’t want to come off as cocky when you hadn’t even gotten the job yet, you chose to keep that particular comment to yourself and quickly got to work with the knowledge Jia had bestowed upon you.  
Since all the coffee machines were very high-end – and much better than the ones that were available at Oh My! Coffee – it took you even less time than it normally would have taken you to finish your task. Jia was there with you the entire time, watching carefully as you did your thing, and only commented here and there when you needed help finding a specific tool or syrup.
“Wow. I think that was the fastest I’ve ever seen anyone complete five orders,” Jia gawked after you’d placed the final order on your tray.
“Oh, really?” you asked, surprised, and turned your head just in time to see her nodding.
“Yes,” she chuckled. “I don’t even think I’d be able to do that, and I’ve been working here for a few years now.”
“Well, thanks, I guess?” you grinned, happy to receive a compliment from a fellow barista. It made you feel extra good about the coffees you made, so you were all too eager to pick up the tray and take it to Vernon, who was sitting at one of the smaller tables.
“Finished already?” he asked, briefly glancing at his watch when you announced your presence. “I have to say I’m usually more of a quality over quantity kind of person, but I’m pretty impressed. The latte art is fantastic, very fitting,” he nodded as he admired the cute cats you’d shaped on three of the coffees.
“Thank you. I hope they are to your liking,” you said, crossing your fingers behind your back as he picked up the glass filled with iced Americano first.
Watching him try your coffee creations was probably one of the most nerve-wracking things you’d experienced in a long time. It wasn’t like you weren’t confident in your skills – because you were – but the CEO’s face remained so stoic for the entirety of it that it made you wonder if you’d done something wrong.
What if the coffee was too strong? Or what if the foam wasn’t to his liking? Those were the types of questions that kept going through your mind as you waited for his verdict.
“So, the thing is,” he started after having tried all of the five drinks. “I actually don’t enjoy drinking coffee.”
Wait, what?
How the hell was he supposed to judge your brewing skills if he didn’t even like the taste of coffee? The man literally ran a café where the majority of the clientele consisted of coffee drinkers for god’s sake.
“I see,” you frowned, not knowing whether to cry or laugh at the information he had just shared with you.
Sensing your confusion, Vernon motioned for you to sit down across from him.
“I usually get one of my friends to try the coffee, but no one was available today,” he explained when you’d sat down. Ah. That made a little more sense, even though it did nothing to calm your raging nerves. “And judging by your facial expression, I should probably just get straight to the point, huh?”
“Yes, please,” you blurted without another thought, just wanting to get rid of this uncertainty you were feeling.
“Alright, alright,” he laughed, seemingly amused with your reaction. “What I’m saying is that your coffee is good, better than good even. Hell, I might even start drinking coffee if it’s always going to be like this,” he stated.
Your mouth dropped open in disbelief at the praise. “Wow, I- Are you serious?” you stammered, feeling at a complete loss of words.
A non-coffee drinker telling you your coffee was so good that it could potentially convert him was the ultimate compliment in your eyes.
“Do you see me as someone who would joke about such things?”
“Would you hate me if I said yes?”
“I like you,” he smirked before taking another sip of the cappuccino you’d prepared.
“So, does that mean you’re hiring me or…?”
He placed the coffee cup he was holding back onto the tray. “That depends on what your answer to my next question is going to be.”
“Okay?” you gulped nervously, waiting for him to speak.
The CEO leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms as a grin slowly made its way onto his face.
“Can you start tomorrow?”
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“Vernon, everything good?” Seungcheol asked as soon as he picked up his friend’s call.
It was very much unlike Vernon to call him – or anyone for that matter – with the exception of emergencies. He was more of a texter, and any work-related calls were usually handled by his personal secretary, Cho Byungho, so for him to call Seungcheol on a random weeknight was somewhat worrisome.
“Yeah, Hyung. Everything is fine, no worries,” Vernon assured his friend. “The reason I’m calling you is to tell you that you need to come to the café for some coffee.”
Well, thatwas not what the CEO expected to come out of his mouth. He’d been prepared for something bad, not his friend inviting him for a goddamn coffee.
“You called to tell me that? I stepped out of an important meeting with Jeonghan to take your call. What the hell happened to your no-call policy?”
“Yeah, about that…” Vernon cleared his throat. “I had to make an exception for this. Listen, you’re still looking for a new coffee place, right? Well, I just so happened to have found a new barista. And you also know how I’m not a fan of coffee, right? I had a few sips and let me tell you my mind was blown, that’s how good it was. She’s like a freaking coffee guru.”
The man wasn’t wrong. Seungcheol was indeed still looking for a new coffee place.
Ever since your argument the other day, he hadn’t been back at Oh My! Coffee and he intended to keep it that way. You had finally gotten what you wanted. Not that the feeling wasn’t mutual. Just the thought of having to face you again after that was enough to make his blood boil.
How could someone as mouthy as you be so stubborn to let that pathetic excuse of a boss belittle you on a daily basis? Seungcheol just didn’t get it. And he didn’t want to stick around for it either, regardless of how good the coffee was. But unfortunately, that decision also meant that he was back to square one, trying to find a coffee bar that matched the quality of your coffee.
“How good can it be? Last time you said you found someone good I ended up throwing that shit away,” Seungcheol scoffed, recalling the bitter coffee one of Vernon’s previous baristas had prepared for him.
“I’m telling you, it’s different this time. She just started, but customers are loving it already. I have no doubt you will love it too.”
The coffee at the café had never been up to the CEO’s standards, so he had a hard time believing that it would actually be different this time. And the fact that the cat café owner wasn’t exactly the best judge when it came to coffee didn’t help his case either.
“I don’t have time for this shit, Vernon,” Seungcheol sighed, already feeling like he’d wasted enough time with this pointless conversation.
“Come on, Hyung!” the other man whined. “Just stop by after you’re done with your meeting. And take Jeonghan Hyung with you too. It’s been ages since you both visited the café.”
“Ugh, fine,” he groaned, praying that the other CEO would let him get back to his meeting if he just agreed to it. “But you’re paying.”
“As if I would ever let you pay. See you later!” was the last thing Vernon said before abruptly ending the call.
“This guy,” Seungcheol mumbled with a shake of his head before returning to the conference room.
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About two and a half hours later, the two CEOs found themselves in Seungcheol’s car, driving towards Cat Café SEVENTEEN. Their meeting had dragged on for far too long – way longer than the one and a half they had initially scheduled – so both men were glad to be done with it. Although Seungcheol had been reluctant to pay a visit to the café not too long ago, the thought of getting a dose of caffeine after that tiresome ordeal sounded like music to his ears.
“So, what exactly did Vernon tell you about this new barista?” Jeonghan asked from the passenger seat.
“Nothing aside from the fact that her coffee is good,” Seungcheol shrugged.
The fashion CEO couldn’t help but snort at that. “Vernon said her coffee was good? The man doesn’t even like coffee.”
“Tell me about it. That’s why I’m not getting my hopes up.”
“I’m definitely intrigued,” Jeonghan chuckled. “By the way, I didn’t get a chance to ask you yet, but what’s up with you?”
“What do you mean?” Seungcheol asked, knowing very well what Jeonghan was referring to. He just wasn’t in the mood to talk about any of it, not even with his best friend.
“You’ve been acting… I don’t know, strange?”
“I’m not doing anything different, so I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he responded, hoping that the other CEO would just drop the subject.
“Now that’s some bullshit. You’re suddenly doing these random check-ins without announcing yourself beforehand. You never used to do that.”
“So what? I just want to be more involved, is that so wrong?” Seungcheol frowned, his grip on the steering wheel tightening ever so slightly.
“It’s not wrong. It’s just odd, that’s all.”
“Well, there’s nothing going on. Just drop it, Jeonghan,” Seungcheol snapped as he turned off the car engine.
The other man sighed in defeat as he opened the car door, knowing he was not going to get much more out of his friend. “If you say so.”
What Jeonghan didn’t know was that there was, in fact, a reason Seungcheol was suddenly dropping in for surprise visits at every single one of the SEVENTEEN World HQs.
With the news of his other best friend and his sister being in an intimate relationship, he’d made it his mission to keep an even closer eye on the two of them. In the best-case scenario, he would catch them red-handed, either at or outside of work.
However, in order to achieve that, he needed to be as subtle as possible, which was a lot harder than he thought with so many eyes on him. Because if he only targeted Wonwoo, the other CEOs and their secretaries were bound to get suspicious, which is why he’d come up with the current tactic – check up on each of the CEOs to cover up the fact that he was actually only interested in Wonwoo.
As for his sister, she was no doubt wondering what the hell had possessed him, with his sudden interest in her personal life and his frequent unannounced visits at the oddest times. But Seungcheol didn’t care. He was determined to see this through to the end – that is, he would play along with their lies until he was ready to confront the two.
“Hyungs!” Vernon called out from behind the counter as soon as the CEO pair had walked through the door.
“Sup, Vernon?” Jeonghan greeted, raising his hand to greet his other friend.
“Come meet the barista I’ve been telling you about,” Vernon said excitedly as he motioned to the woman standing by his side.
“Cheol?” Jeonghan asked, noticing that his friend had stopped walking and was instead shooting daggers at something ahead.
The CEO in question suddenly understood what Vernon had been talking about when he said it would be different this time, and he definitely understood why his friend had been so utterly positive about the quality of his new barista’s coffee. Because the barista Vernon had been praising was you, the woman who’d made the best coffee he’d ever tasted, but also the woman he so desperately wanted to avoid.
Why the hell were you here?
“You gotta be fucking kidding me.”
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© All right reserved — ourdawnishotterthanourday // Please do not repost or edit any of my works without my permission!! If you see any of my works outside of this Tumblr, pls report it to me asap. Thank you in advance!
AAAND THAT'S A WRAP FOR PART ONE OF MELON PANG! Hope you enjoyed and want to come back for more 🤭
I am not sure yet when part two is going to be released, but I will keep you updated as much as I can! All I can say is that it's going to be interesting hehe 👀 Expect a lot more interaction between Cheol and the reader + other CEOs.
Feedback/comments/reblogs are highly appreciated!
☀ if you want to be added to the tag list (or removed), leave a comment, or send me an ask and specify that you want to be tagged for my SEVENTEEN World tag list! 
651 notes · View notes
nicxl333 · 8 months
Note
could you do a part 2 of bllk boys accidentally hurting their partner bu with a good ending please.
My stomach wouldn't be able to handle mor angst(⁠T⁠T⁠)
BABY YOU SOLD ME A DREAM PT.2
thanks for the req anon, i think you’re doing everyone a favour here by asking for this because whew! i was ready to dropkick a mf from writing pt.1 lmao
also if you’re here by chance it’s probably best if you read pt.1 for context before you read pt.2 | :3
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characters: isagi yoichi, reo mikage, nagi seishiro, barou shoei, itoshi rin
content: overwhelming fluff, slight angst, major angst (in rin and barou’s part), reader is female coded (the term ‘girlfriend ‘ is used)
tags: @kaiserkisser @silly-ez @scaramouchemyloveee @mariyumemi @wishiknewwhatiwasdoingwithmylife @hsxhype @aquamarine001 @nxgiswife @hanagoromo-roses
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☆彡 ISAGI YOICHI
two weeks. two long, monotonous weeks spent without isagi. yes bachira did his very best to make sure you were comfortable with him, but you missed isagi so damn much.
it wasn’t only difficult for you though, bachira was trapped in a bad position. due to him being a friend of both you and isagi, he was stuck between a rock and a hard place. while it was evident that isagi had fucked you over badly, being in a team with isagi and having him as a bestfriend didn’t make things better. he couldn’t just pick a side and be done with it.
unbeknownst to you though, isagi asked bachira multiple times each day about how you were doing. after some self reflection, he realised just how wrong he was for treating you that way. especially since people like you nowadays are hard to come by. someone so nurturing, caring and full of love and devotion for their s/o was quite the rarity to find. and to think he nearly lost all of that with just a few words. really opened up his perspective of things. he wanted to do better. for you and himself.
and so, he cut down his training times, making more time for himself to wind down from daily intensive workouts. he thought of words to say to you, to make it known to you that he was aware where he went wrong and was taking responsibility for his actions.
he also went shopping, to buy you a multitude of gifts. clothes, jewellery, trainers and heels, perfumes, trinkets. you name it, he bought it. it all cost him a hand and a foot, but he didn’t mind, he would do it 100 times over for you. (we should remember this man is a professional footballer, he’s got dough.) once home, he placed all the gifts on the coffee table in the living room, having to put some on the floor due to the sheer amount he bought, ready to take them to bachira’s tomorrow.
little did he know he wouldn’t have to make the commute.
you had said your goodbyes to bachira that same day, thanking him for taking you in for so long with a big bear hug, to which he returned with just as much (platonic) love as you had shown him. you placed your bag in the backseat of your car, turning on the ignition and beginning the drive back home.
as the roads whizzed by you on the highway, so did the thoughts in your head. you were very nervous to have to talk to isagi again, to have to recall exactly what happened that night. glancing at the time on the dashboard, you drew the conclusion that isagi should be training right now, which would at least give you time to prepare before he got back.
as you pulled up to the apartment complex, the first thing you noticed was that isagi’s car was there, in his usual spot next to yours.
‘he’s home?’
surely not, maybe he just hitched a ride or something. although that didn’t make any sense whatsoever. there would be no reason why isagi would skip his evening trainings, not that you could think of anyways. even after joint practice with his team he would then further push himself to do his own training, polishing up on his skills. so to think he’s potentially broken that pattern confused you.
after parking your car and collecting your things you made your way to your front door, unlocking it and venturing in. once you placed your keys on the side table and took off your shoes, you walked into the empty living room, ultimately puzzled when you noticed the coffee table filled to the brim with bags from your favourite places.
“yoichi? you there?”
nothing.
you therefore assumed he was out, deciding to take a closer look at the bags. inside, everything you had ever bought for yourself or displayed interest in while out with isagi lay in each bag. even things that you didn’t have, but wanted, were present.
he remembered.
your eyes immediately welled with tears of appreciation, head snapping to your bedroom door when you heard it open, isagi’s figure stepping out. you immediately jolted, not expecting him to actually be here, even though you didn’t actually take the time to look and see properly.
“shit! y/n, you’re back? wait, why’re you crying?”
in an instant he crossed the distance to you, wiping the tears away once he assessed and evaluated that you were not hurt.
“uh— sorry. i should’ve asked you first. is this okay?” he quizzed, holding the sides of your face tenderly. you nodded, leaning into his touch.
“are these for me yoichi?” you looked into his cobalt blue eyes. one hand left your cheek, rubbing at the skin behind his neck, suddenly feeling shy.
“erm…yes. yes they are. i wasn’t expecting you back though, i was gonna surprise you tomorrow. ” he pulled you towards the sofa, sitting you down and looking deep into your (e/c) eyes.
“look y/n, i know materialism doesn’t take away what i did to you, but i want you to know just how sorry i am. you didn’t deserve how i treated you. not two weeks ago or months before. i made you feel lonely, i put football before you. when you needed me, i shut you out. and i take full accountability for that. words couldn’t describe just how badly i’m in love with you and how crazy you make me feel. i couldn’t bear to lose that forever. hell, these two weeks without you have tormented me enough. a lifetime without you would finish me off for good.”
you listened to him speak every word, touched that he would say such soothing words to you. yes, you did expect him to apologise, but not to go above and beyond to show his willingness to change.
your nose started flaring, the sting of your eyes warning that you were about to cry again.
feeling uncomfortable with your silence, isagi pressed you slightly.
“y/n? are you— are you oka-”
you cut him off by pouncing on him, engulfing him in a hug, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him like it was your last.
“i’m yours yoichi. always and forever.”
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☆彡 MIKAGE REO
you woke up in the same hotel room you cried yourself to sleep in. throat dry, head pulsating and heart wounded. you needed some form of rejuvenation, but, considering you didn’t have any clothes on you, seemed hard to achieve.
you reached for your phone, shocked when you saw 20 missed calls and 46 messages from the very same person who caused you anguish in the first place. opening the message app you see the most recent messages being sent at around 5am.
“y/n, where are you?”
“y/n please answer the phone!”
“are you safe at least, i’m worried about you.”
“i just wanna know if you’re okay, we need to talk.”
“y/n?”
“y/n please, im starting to worry, just send me a text, or something. let me know you’re okay.”
although you were beyond pissed at the guy, he was concerned for your safety, and to make him worry for you like that shouldn’t have to be something anyone should experience.
you sent him a quick, straightforward response.
“i’m fine, you don’t need to worry.”
the read receipt came as quickly as you sent it, a bubble popping up, signaling that reo was typing. however, after a few moments, it disappeared altogether, leaving your message standing alone.
you sighed, deciding that the least you could do was shower, feeling clammy and, simply put, dirty.
luckily, your job was well paying so you were able to book a lavish en-suite hotel room, although you didn’t pay attention to that much last night, willing to go just about anywhere as long as it weren’t near reo. inside the bathroom lay exquisite amenities, top branded shower gel, shampoo and conditioner, along with oils and different expensive face care products. an unopened toothbrush pack also was present on the bathroom counter, with toothpaste alongside it. and by the full glass shower itself stood a towel and robe on the hanging rack.
it weren’t exactly clothes, but it was a start. better than staying in your dress the whole day. while you waited for the shower water to warm you looked at yourself in the mirror, cringing at how dishevelled your figure was. your cheeks were tear stained, causing your mascara to run, your lips had smeared lipstick still present, and your hair? let’s not even go there. you looked a hot mess, physical evidence of your current mood.
once heated to a substantial temperature you stepped into the shower, revelling at how that warm water melted into your skin. you made good work of scrubbing down your skin, leaving no traces of any events that may have transpired the day before.
soon enough you finished up your shower, stepping out and wrapping the towel round your figure, feeling refreshed, but still incomplete. you brushed your teeth next, trying to avoid letting your thoughts go off topic from the current task at hand.
just as you were walking into the room itself to look for moisturiser, you heard a knock at the door. it confused you to the core. no one actually knew your whereabouts so you couldn’t rack your brain to guess who it could be. you ventured close to the door, looking through the peephole and visibly relaxing once you saw a hotel worker standing, waiting.
“hello?”
“ah, good morning miss y/n, i have a bag here requested to be brought to you.”
if you weren’t confused before, you were bewildered now. this meant that someone hand to have known where’d you were, but how? only one way to find out.
“requested by who, might i ask?”
“mr…mikage reo?”
what the actual hell. you were well and truly silenced by the revelation. more importantly, it’s quite amazing how he managed to find your location with such haste. although it shouldn’t really surprise you so much, considering he probably had connections due to his status. it made you wonder just what exactly he brought to you.
“erm ma’am?”
you cracked the door open, seeing one of reo’s duffel bags stuffed to the brim. the hotel worker held it out for you to take, bowing then turning to leave immediately after. you carried the heavy bag through the room, placing it on the ottoman at the end of the bed.
you stood for a second, debating whether you should open it or not. curiosity got the better of you though, and you unzipped the bag, stalling when you realised it was a bag of clothes for you, as well as the moisturiser you use, some makeup products and your favourite trainers. it’s like he somehow knew you would need clothes, probably since you didn’t return home last night.
taking the clothes from the bag you realised he packed you one of your favourite hoodies, his own hoodie.
after moisturising yourself you started to put the clothes on, feeling slightly better about yourself. you looked into your makeup bag, seeing some of your basic everyday skin and hair products, as well as your everyday perfume, feeling grateful that reo at least paid attention enough to know what you liked and used.
just as you had finished your skincare routine you heard another lock at the door, wondering who it could be at this time. you got up and crossed your way to the door, looking through the peephole and freezing.
your boyfriend, reo stood at the door, looking around nervously.
you gauged your options for a moment, reaching an ultimatum with yourself that you couldn’t avoid him forever. you opened the door fully, stepping to the side for him to walk in, which he did, stepping meticulously and with precaution, while you closed the door behind him.
all was silent for a moment, neither party knowing what to say to the other, a million thoughts rushing through the room. the tension was taut, the air thick, and awkwardness seeping in.
you collected yourself, deciding to start it off.
“thanks for the clothes, i appreciate it.”
“it’s…the least i could do, considering how i treated you.” he said, simultaneously biting down on his lip.
“yeah.”
he moved closer towards you, looking at your expression to see if he was crossing boundaries at any point.
“y/n.” you looked at him with apprehension, worried about what may fly out of his mouth next. “i want you to know that what happened last night, was entirely my fault. i need you to understand that.”
you frowned with sadness displayed on your face. yes he may be owning up to his actions, but that didn’t explain why he said what he said. especially if he could say something of that degree to you with such ease. it sounded like he meant every word.
becoming slightly anxious from your silence, he continued on.
“i made you it sound like you were inadequate or you were lower than me because i have money. i know it sounds bad, but y/n, it’s really the opposite. you don’t look at me for my background, you look at me for who i am as a person. you make me feel normal. make me feel like i can be myself around you. i don’t have to keep myself guarded around you and i appreciate you so much for it. i guess that’s why i spoke out of turn to you like that last night. because you’re probably the only person who can actually knock me down a peg. and having nagi hear that made me scared. scared because i was vulnerable in front of him. of course, i’m not excusing my actions, and i’m not asking for forgiveness, i just want you to know i’m sorry.”
you nodded slowly in understanding, looking at the way he subconsciously tugged on a piece of his violet tresses. he left his hair down today. you loved it when his hair was down. he knew that.
“i hear you reo, but that’s not the only issue. this whole problem stemmed from the fact that you spend too much time with nagi. i don’t wanna be the girlfriend that prohibits you from spending time with your friends, that’s not who i am, but when you’re with nagi so much that it makes you forget important dates, that’s when it becomes a problem. especially when you then make it out to be like i’m the problem. no one is saying you can’t be around him, but have a backbone please. he’s always there reo. sometimes i just want you to myself, is that too much to ask for?”
he realised where he went wrong, casting you aside for the sake of nagi, which wasn’t cool. and he didn’t want to lose you. you were too good to him and he felt so strongly about you. anything you asked for could never be too much, not to him.
and so, he stepped closer to you still, scooping you up in his arms and spinning you around, relishing in the way you wrapped your arms around his neck, both for stabilisation and comfort.
“no baby, it’s never too much. not when it comes to you.”
you squeezed him tighter, nuzzling your head into the crook of his neck and smiling.
“i don’t like it when we fight reo, i love you too much for that.”
“i love you too y/n,” he placed you down gently on the bed, laying you back and caging you in with both arms, his hair hanging directly over your face. “so…we’re gonna go back home and i want you to pack your bags. we’re going to mykonos for the week to celebrate our anniversary together.”
you straightened up, wondering where this was all coming from.
“huh? reo, you’re forgetting something? you may be off season right now but i still have work.”
“not for the next two weeks, i pulled some strings so now you have paid time off, which, gives you more time with your favourite man.”
you chuckled at his revelation, knowing he definitely used his power to threaten your manager. reo could be so demanding at times.
“speaking of which, do you know where he is?” his face immediately darkened at that.
“wanna repeat that?”
“nope!”
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☆彡 NAGI SEISHIRO
nagi was in a state. it had only been 4 days since you broke up with him, but that was 4 days too long for him. it wasn’t actually until you broke it off with him and it sunk in that you were gone, that it really registered for him.
he missed you.
it made him realise, as much as he hated being bothered…he didn’t mind if it were you. he really did enjoy spending time with you. especially when cuddling. your figure was so soft, a perfect cushion for him to lay on as he slept. you would play with his hair so gently, lulling him to sleep. and you were really pretty.
the apartment just seemed all the more empty without you. yes, he did live alone pre blue lock a few years back, but having you live with him made him get used to having someone around. he grew comfortable and accustomed to it. so much so that it felt lonely when you left.
you had temporarily went back to your parents house while you looked for a new place to live. you had a few items of miscellaneous clothing left behind in your room, but you had ran out, thus needing the majority of your stuff, which you had left back at nagi’s.
you left off, with the promise to your parents that you’d be back soon.
the engine hummed as you drove back, playing your playlist on a high volume, hoping to drown out the thoughts spiralling in your head, although it did little to silence them.
you didn’t plan a time to leave out, but realised that you had coincidentally headed out at the same time nagi would be home, a meeting inevitable. oh well. had to happen at some point. you planned on a quick and brisk pit stop, hoping to minimise interaction with him as much as possible.
you pulled up to the apartment complex, walking through the lobby, swiping your keycard and pressing the lift to go to the penthouse.
in no time you reached the top, the lift doors opening. you stepped out and pushed your key into the lock, opening the door as silently as you could, walking in and shutting it with a click.
yes, you may have been moving around like a teenager after a forbidden night out, but you would much rather that than have to be further insulted by nagi, should he catch you.
alas, things cannot always go smoothly in life, for nagi had heard you, stepping out of the bedroom, shirtless with loosely hanging shorts, evidently having just woken up from a nap.
he instantly stopped, rubbing his eyes to see if he was tweaking or not. yet, you stood there, trying to disappear in that moment.
“y/n…you’re here.”
“only to get my things nagi, i’ll be out of your hair in around half an hour.”
nagi. his own name turned his mood sour. he’d much rather you call him by his actual name, or sei, not his last. and you knew that fact very well, making sure he knew damn well you were serious.
you begun to hurriedly walk towards the bedroom, where he was standing by the door, attempting to walk past him as quickly as possible. he intervened however, stepping about halfway into the door so that you were now directly in front of him and couldn’t get past, unless you spoke to him.
“are you really leaving y/n?”
“it’s l/n to you nagi, and yes. you don’t get to say something like that to me and think we’ll be cool after. it’s fucked up.”
you turned so he couldn’t see you, tears beginning to form at the painful recollection of what occurred a few days ago. you didn’t trust yourself to say anything else, for the fear of bursting into tears held you back.
“please don’t leave me y/n, i can do better, i promise. i regret what i said. really badly. i’m— i’m sorry.”
you knew that nagi didn’t like talking as it is (he referred to it as a hassle), so to have him trying to at least communicate with you did mean something. not enough to satiate you though.
“y/n?”
when you didn’t say anything back he lightly tugged your hand and turned you around, eyes widening once he saw tears streaming down your face.
he attempted to console you, wanting to pull you into a hug, but drawing back when you lightly pushed him off you.
“y/n- what’s wrong?”
“i can’t sei, i’m scared. scared you’ll grow bored of me. i don’t know if i’m bothering you or not and it kills me to think that you’d spend more time on games than with me. you basically told me i’m a hassle. how the hell else am i supposed to take that?”
your tears wouldn’t stop pouring down no matter how much you tried to calm yourself down, sniffles loud and clear as day.
something unusual happened to nagi as he watched you cry your eyes out. he felt his heart breaking into tiny shards at your state. more so because he knew it was because of him. he didn’t want to be the cause of your pain. he didn’t want to see you like this, experiencing such distress.
he wrapped his arms around you, one hand shielding your head and pulling your face into his bare chest, where you sobbed some more, letting up all the feelings built up from days prior.
“you’re not a hassle y/n. i said that out of turn. you could never be a hassle to me. while you were gone, i couldn’t even play my games properly. i just slept and trained because i missed you so much and didn’t know what to do without you. i know i’m lazy, and i know i don’t make you feel loved enough, but i do. i love you. i’ll do better for you and i don’t wanna be the reason why you’re upset. so please stop crying, wanna see your pretty face smile for me.”
you smiled into his chest, your sniffles beginning to subside and still.
“thank you sei, i really needed to hear that.”
“i would say it over 100 times for you. it might take a while but i won’t get bored of it. not when it comes to you.”
you wrapped your arms around his broad figure, squeezing tightly.
“will you be my girlfriend again y/n? no one else can reach your level. not now, not ever.”
you let go of his body, instead placing your palms on the back of his neck, pulling him into a kiss.
“of course i will seishiro.”
“good, because i wanna cuddle with my girlfriend.”
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☆彡 BAROU SHOUEI
it had been 2 months since you broke up with barou and he was miserable. who would’ve thought you leaving would cause such a rift in his life? his performance in matches were shit, he became pissed off at people more easily, and he was benched more often.
due to him not having someone to talk to, he essentially had no form of a wind down from football, something you were able to give him while you were together. something he had come to miss, and wished he appreciated more.
the lack of your items in the house made your departure all the more apparent. your decorations and items around the apartment were what made the house a home.
and you as a person? what wasn’t to like about you? you were a very levelheaded but gentle person, a great contrast to his fiery, angry personality. you catered to his every need, be it mentally, physically or sexually. your voice was what carried him through his day, soothing him to the bone, calming him down when he needed it. the more he thought about it, the more he realised he made a grave mistake pushing you out. the more he realised just how much he was attached to you, he was just unwilling to acknowledge it.
barou was no pussy, and he had enough of living like this, living without you, so he decided to get you back (and not fuck up this time).
he knew you were most likely staying at your childhood friend, chigiri’s house. he knew him very well, having done the blue lock training program with him years back, and played against him in several matches. he knew where he lived, having gone to parties held at his house through mutual connections.
and so, after practice, he grabbed his car keys and set off. he weren’t good with words, so his mind stayed scrambled as he thought of all the things he could say to you. while he couldn’t think of specific sentences to say to you, his goal remained the same.
after some time passed, he pulled up to chigiri’s house, your car the only one on the drive, which meant that only you were home. he switched off the ignition, stepped out of the car and walked up to the door.
with slight hesitancy, he lifted his fist to the door and knocked three times. he listened for any shuffling inside, but heard none. after a moment he turned away to leave, thinking you might’ve not been there after all. it’s possible you might’ve been out with chigiri in his car. yeah, that was probably it.
however.
“what do you want barou? i thought i was ‘making your life too hard’?”
shit, you were home. your voice was muffled, due to you speaking through the door, having seen his figure through the peephole.
“i- i didn’t mean that. not that way.”
you opened the door, allowing him to see a crack of your figure, donned in shorts and a tank top.
“then how did you mean it barou? don’t take me for an idiot, because i’m not one. no one says anything of that depth if you didn’t feel that exact way before. so before you let anymore bullshit spout from your mouth tell me exactly how you meant it, in what context. because i’m tired barou, tired of being in a relationship where i feel like i’m treading on glass around you because you don’t wanna do certain things. it’s not a nice feeling. you may not feel that way, but i do. i’ve felt that way during our whole relationship, but i feel like i can’t tell you shit so i’ve kept. it. in.”
wow. he really didn’t see things from your perspective. once he heard it from you, he realised just how much of a dickhead he sounded like. he couldn’t say anything, how could he explain himself after that?
he didn’t.
and after hearing no refutation or explanation from barou, you simply let go of any hopes of talking this out with him.
“shouei,” his ears perked at you using his first name. “i think…you should go. i don’t wanna have any hard feelings between us but i don’t think we’re right for each other. please understand and respect tha-”
you stopped short of ending your sentence upon seeing barou turn and leave before he could hear you out, getting back into his car and preparing to drive off.
you sighed, shaking your head and closing the door, effectually ending your relationship for good.
he got what he wanted, right?
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☆彡 ITOSHI RIN
you woke up in the morning, immediately panning your vision to your left to see if rin had returned to bed. the bed imprints remained the exact same as you had left it when you fell asleep, which lead you to wonder if rin had even returned home.
you slid out of bed, your feet touching the cold wood floor, you trudged your way through the apartment, looking for signs of life, your shoulders falling in disappointment when you realised rin was nowhere to be seen. it was debatable if he even came home or not, the answer you would probably never find out.
you warred with yourself in your head about what to do. considering rin didn’t even try to talk to you to rectify the situation showed he didn’t really give a shit. if he didn’t come home, then he probably didn’t even know if you came home or not, which meant he isn’t worrying about you or where you were.
you weren’t a dickhead, and waiting for someone who evidently didn’t want you seemed like such a desperate action, which you weren’t trying to act like.
and so, calling a few willing friends, shedding some tears here and there, and half a day of hard work, you had effectively moved out of your shared apartment with rin, leaving a half completed home. he didn’t return home the whole day, not that you gave a shit anymore.
imagine rin’s surprise when he returned home from his team practice, expecting to see you moping around somewhere, but instead, nowhere to be found. as a matter of fact, where the fuck was your stuff? the apartment looked very much empty right now. he took at least 15 minutes to look around, analysing his surroundings, the same he would do during a game. any potted plants you bought for the house, specifically for the living room disappeared. your stupid candle ornaments that somehow made the house look better? not a ghost of a trace left behind. your clothes? gone. even from the laundry basket, only his clothes remained.
your products, your favourite sleeping pillow, even your toothbrush was gone. you left no stone unturned, questionable if you ever lived there in the first place.
still slightly puzzled but somewhat aware of the answer behind all of this, he pulled out his phone, clicking immediately on the message app. he sent you a message, heart dropping and suspicions confirmed when his message was not only green, but displayed a ‘not delivered’ message underneath. you had blocked him, and moved out without his knowledge.
he knew you were pissed off from what had transpired, but he didn’t know you would take action this soon. you didn’t even wait to talk to him for the love of god. this wasn’t supposed to happen this way, he was only angry at you because he felt threatened in the moment. but, recalling just exactly what he said to you, maybe it was warranted.
maybe it was for the best. you barely had enough time together as it is, due to unmatchable schedules and rin always being abroad. he was never able to give you enough love. funny, considering he didn’t even make sure to tell you. looking back on it, he realised he was kind of a dickhead to you.
so, he let go of the relationship for good.
four months had passed. he’d gotten bigger as a football player after his team winning a multitude of matches had lead to him becoming their star player, constantly getting man of the match achievements. this lead to his popularity increasing, getting more fans and fame as a result. he had been abroad this whole time, focusing on his career.
oh. but don’t think he had escaped you.
he couldn’t get his mind off you.
you tormented his thoughts daily and nightly, his yearning for you and hate for himself flourishing simultaneously as he repeatedly recalled how he fucked up. he wished he could go back to that night, heeding your warnings.
either way, that couldn’t be achieved now, for he didn’t know your whereabouts. he hadn’t known since that night on the pitch.
he tried to move on the best he could, returning back to japan to visit his parents whilst he had time off from football.
it just so happened one day while he popped out to a grocery store to get ingredients for his mother, the he saw the back of a familiar head, whisking away to the next aisle over. piquing his curiosity, he immediately paced to see if it way really who he thought it was.
and yes, the face he thought he’d never see again, the very same person who had been frequenting his mind,
you.
“y/n!” you froze, not expecting to find him here of all places. last time you had seen on tv, he was abroad. he wasn’t supposed to be here. deciding you had to face the music at some point, you turned around, watching as his demeanour melted, at really seeing you again after so long.
“rin…hi.”
all was silent for a moment, not knowing what to say to each other. what does one say in situations such as these? not to worry, rin answered for you.
“how…how’ve you been?”
“good thanks, how about you?”
“i’ve been— alright.”
silence settled again. rin wanted to voice so many things to you, starting with how he wanted you to know how he’s changed. how he’s calmed down in terms of training. how he’d make more time. he wanted you to know he’d do things differently, if you ever took him back. he wanted you to come home… but he didn’t know where to start.
he would have to at some point however, for you wanted to get away from him as soon as possible.
“well…um, it was good seeing yo-”
“wait!” he interjected, panic settling in that you would disappear and he would never get the chance again. “i— i just wanted to tell you tha—”
“y/n baby, i’ve got the washing powder.”
baby? what the fuck?
he looked just past you to see a guy walking up to you, taking the basket from your hands with a peck to your cheek. you smiled at the action, lacing your hand in his hair as he took place behind you. he then noticed rin, standing there with visible shock on his face, confused on what he missed while he was gone.
“who’s this?”
“oh, just an old friend.” a bold faced lie. anyone with two functioning brain cells could feel the history between you two. “i’ve got my stuff so let’s go to the queue. nice seeing you rin…have a good day.” you walked off with your supposed new boyfriend. a boyfriend that wasn’t him.
have a good day? after you just shattered his heart like that?
his throat turned dry, awareness sinking in.
he wanted you to come home…but he was too late.
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baby you sold me a dream pt.3
972 notes · View notes
seattlesellie · 11 months
Note
hi angel i saw u say you wanted more fluffy ellie requests and i thought about maybe something along the lines of the cute pics she has of you two in her phone idk it’s just something i thought of u don’t have to write it if u don’t want to i just love ur blog and everything u write 💗💗💗💗🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻
not about love ♡
pre-dating slightly loser college!ellie 🦕 incoming !! basically u go through ellies phone and find… something. part 1 of… maybe?
warnings: slightly mean ellie for a second, sexual tension, mentions of weed and alcohol.
part 2
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Tic-Toc, the gentle sounds of the ancient clock in Ellie’s room filled the thick air. a gift from Joel. It was a warm, lazy afternoon. You almost fell asleep, almost. Her bed smelled like her, so did the ruffled, Nirvana t-shirt you were laying on. Everything in this room practically screamed Ellie. The scent, the sketches on the wall — of Dina, and Jesse, and you. Why did she have more sketches of you than anyone else? A dinosaur lego, a miniature solar system, obscure band posters, Oh! here’s the pin you gifted her once!, two pairs of mismatched socks, a random rock (“It’s from like, the moon” she said. It was from the local science museum.)
“El” you whined, receiving a gentle hum in response.
“I’m bored” you exclaimed with a heavy sigh. It's not as if she owed you any attention, she told you she had to study. For some reason, some odd reason nor you or her could put your finger on, you had to be there with her. “Well” you excused. “It’s not like I have anything better to do, right?” A lie. What about your project due Monday? Nevermind.
“Catch this” she exclaimed, tossing a serene light blue stress ball directly at your face.
“Ow!” you whined, yet again. If only you knew what those whines did to her.
“Sorry bro, gotta finish this fucking question. She said, flexing her sore hand. “Fuck this fucking Prof, seriously” She mumbled, clearly annoyed, clearly frustrated. Ellie had this thing, well, if you could even call something that she only had specifically with you a “Thing” — where she had to call you by those stupid names. “Dude” “Bro” “Jeez man!” just to see you squirm. Youd flinch ever so slightly, a fleeting reaction that betrayed a hint of offense flickering in your eyes. Every time you couldn’t help but pout, couldn’t help but look a little bit hurt, it did something to her. It wasn’t because she liked hurting you, God knows she didn’t. It would give her a glimmer of hope, of light. Shed journal about it, too;
“I called her Bro again. She looked really sad. Why does she get sad? I’m so fucking stupid. It’s probably because no one else calls her fucking bro, I’m literally delusional. Also had expired fucking Pizza. Worst day ever. Shit. Not that bad because she smiled at batted her eyelashes. God Ellie you need therapy.” YOURE A DUMBASS!!!!”
Half an hour had elapsed, brimming with Ellie muttering to herself under her breath. lighting a blunt, burning the blunt, passing it to you, begging you to give it back after 3 seconds.
You were pretty sure you had gone through every single app on your phone five times already. Stalking rando’s on Instagram, watching ASMR tiktoks, talking shit with Dina in the groupchat. How much more of this boredom could you take? My god, you were humming a stupid melody to yourself.
“Griiiind boy you know I grind when I pull-“
“Shh”
Did Ellie just shush you?!
“Excuse me?” You said.
“I’m trying to concentrate. Also what the fuck is a Fartulum?” Ellie retorted, withdrawing slightly and punctuating her frustration with stomps on the floor. God, she was too fucking cute.
“Can I play on your phone?” You questioned innocently. One more opening and closing the same App and you’d have lost your damn mind. You could practically see the Candy Crush candies popping inside of your brain every time you closed your eyes.
“No” she answered bluntly.
“Why? you scared I’ll find your nudes? Not gonna look- Swear on my li-“
You could hear her eye rolling, somehow.
“I dont have fucking nudes” she affirmed with a touch of exasperation.
“Someone else’s?” you said quietly. Your tone almost exposed you. Almost.
“Psh… no” Ellie said in return, just as quiet. Her tone almost exposed her, too.
Wish I had yours. Shut it, Ellie.
“Then let me go on your phone” You whined, got off the bed and almost slipped on one of her belts that laid on the floor. So messy, so, so Ellie.
She cast a sidelong glance at you, her eyes darting from the corner of her vision. Her grip on the pen was incredibly tight. It happened every time you got near, got too close to her. Whether it was clutching the strings of her hoodie, her knuckles turning white with tension, or her toes curling in a clenched stance. Shed never ever admit it to herself, cool, calm & collected, but fuck did you make her nervous.
You settled yourself on the chair beside her, causing her to divert every ounce of her attention back to her assignment, shifting it solely onto you. You. You. You.
She gazed directly into your eyes, and a peculiar warmth flooded your face. Its funny how even after being friends for all this time, making eye contact with her managed to stir something within you. She asked you about it once, mid fight. “You never even look at me when we talk!” she huffed. “Yes I do!” no you dont. “No you don’t!” and when your lips quivered, turning you in, she left it at that.
Ellie scratched the back of her neck, her arms flexing subtly with the motion. You gave her that look, the look that made her cheeks go bright pink, her hands clam up. She bit her lip. “Fine”. You won, flashing her a toothy smile she couldn’t help but grin at.
And there you were, with Ellie’s iPhone 5C (Yeah, she never got that buying a new iPhone every 2 years phenomenon) laying on Ellie’s bed, in Ellie’s room.
“Ew - Ellie what the fuck? why is your screen greasy?!” You squirmed, fingertips grazing over her slightly sticky screen. Is that fucking chicken nuggets residue?
“Shut up, dude. You asked me for my phone so deal with the consequences”
Dude.
You rolled your eyes, proceeded to wipe the screen of her phone with the corner of her cozy flannel bedsheet. Her phone was really warm. One more month and it would probably set on fire.
“Password?” You questioned, and shifted to lay on your stomach, your cheek caressing the pillow. It had a little auburn colored hair laying on top of it.
Ellie huffed and waited a second before she responded, contemplating again. It’s harmless, fuck it.
“2222”
“Okay, seriously - you could get hacked with that dumbass password”
“Pffft” Ellie huffed. “I’d fucking beat them up if they tried robbing me” she said, ever the brave.
“I’m not… talking about robbers, Ellie. Like, hackers?”
“Same thing”
“You cant beat up hackers they’re- Nevermind” you sighed.
2222.
If the room was classic Ellie, god, so was her phone. Default Apple background, because she truly couldn’t be bothered. iMessage, Instagram with four pictures on her feed; One of her arm slightly flexing her tat (who the fuck was the bitch who commented “damn” under there?), one of a stray cat wearing her grey beanie, a meme that says “Fuck sex. Let’s do something romantic like play Fireboy and Watergirl on CoolMathGames.Com” (God, she thought she was so funny for that one. 6 Likes, one from you, one from Jesse, the fake Instagram account you and Dina created for Joel, her ex Cat, and one from Dina and a spam bot). Next to the Instagram laid the NASA app (of course), Call Of Duty for iPhone (Made her sleep for only fifteen minutes one night), calculator, 9GAG (People still use that?!), and… her gallery.
You pursed your lips, contemplating the situation. Should you?after all, Ellie said; No nudes. So what could possibly be on there?
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Of course.
You couldn't contain a soft giggle that escaped your lips, earning an inquisitive whine from Ellie. "What's so funny?" she grumbled, unable to resist her curiosity.
“Said you were studying, so study” You said, while scrolling through her gallery.
As you readjusted your position on the bed, you unintentionally swiped to the left, revealing her albums. Just harmless browsing, right?
“Screenshots”
“Funny memes”
“Pics to send Jesse when he’s being stupid”
“Dhhdjsjsou”
“Stink ❤️”
A picture of you, laying on the grass, a bright, toothy smile spread across your face. It was from your Instagram, the one you deleted because you thought you looked dumb. The one Ellie commented a for once unsarcastic “Woah” on.
The album was locked.
You felt your throat go dry, heartbeat speeding up. Your leg started shaking, and God, you hoped she would come and snatch the phone off of your hand.
But she didn’t. She just shifted in her sit, cleared her throat and resumed her studies.
You shouldn’t have. But you did.
2222
Unlocked. Success!
You felt like screaming at the top of your lungs. Was it even hotter in here now? Extra humid today? you bit your lip, it almost hurt.
A picture of you and Dina. A selfie you sent to the groupchat two weeks ago. Ellie doodled a green heart on it. You were sweating. A picture of you on Christmas last year. That same day you had your stupid fight on. You were wearing a Santa hat, mug of hot Coco and tiny white marshmallows in your hand.
Your stomach felt as if it were infested by a swarm of Ellie looking butterfly’s.
A picture of you sound asleep, in Ellie’s bed. She was mid-moving a hair strand away from your face. It was blurry. You recognized that top.
You were wasted that day. Blabbering uncontrollably about how you had to crash on her bed, because you were scared your new roommate would think you’re stupid, and dumb, and an idiot, for getting drunk at a frat party.
You couldn’t understand why Ellie didn’t want to help you. You almost kicked her when she said she couldn’t, that you’d be better off in your bed. “I snore. And I kick in my sleep - Seriously” You almost cried. You called her a bad friend, a fake one, because — isn’t that what friends are for? Shouldn’t they have your back when you’re a babbling mess? Hold your hair for you, put you to sleep, take care of you?
Ellie couldn’t sleep that night.
When you laid there, right on her bed, her face went so red and hot you could fry something on it. She almost hit herself in the face when her chest grazed your back. When your leg caressed her’s, and ended up on top of her thigh, she almost screamed. When you shifted to face her, an angelic, sound asleep expression on your face, she swore she almost died. The string of your top came off, revealing more of your shoulder, and the strap of your bra, Ellie turned around so fast she almost woke you up.
She slept for 20 minutes.
When she woke up, she had to make herself remember it. Remember you, laying with her.
So she took a picture. An innocent one.
You almost jumped when the pen fell slipped from her hand and she turned around to face you.
“What are you doing?”
Whats in her notes app?
part two
2K notes · View notes
verstappen-cult · 4 months
Text
SPENDING CHRISTMAS WITH THE BOYS | F1 GRID
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★ — LANDO NORRIS (4)
lando enjoys the holidays for many reasons, and one of the main ones is how happy you always are. you take everything involving christmas very serious and he tries to help you as much as he can, but it’s lando, he can’t help but go up to santa at the mall, asking for what he wants for christmas as if he’s five years old, embarrassing you so much you don’t think you will ever be showing your face again. lando is awful at wrapping presents, but you take your time teaching him between giggles and kisses that taste like hot cocoa. and after a very stressful but fun day of shopping and wrapping presents, you end your day cuddle up in front the fireplace with hot drinks and a christmas movie.
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★ — CHARLES LECLERC (16)
charles knows you love christmas, so you don’t even need to ask for him to know that as soon as the season starts, you want to go and see the christmas lights around the neighborhood. so he drives you for hours, heart melting at your happy face and tears in your eyes. you decorate the tree together while christmas songs play in the background, that soon turns into a karaoke fight. charles’ favorite part of decorating the house is definitely when he has to lift you up so you can hang up the ones that you can’t reach by your own. of course you have stairs that could easily help you do it, he just doesn’t tell you.
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★ — OSCAR PIASTRI (81)
oscar loves you so, so much because if that weren’t the case, he definitely wouldn’t be wearing the matching sweaters you gifted him a few christmas ago. much less while shopping where everyone can recognize him. but really, oscar doesn’t care if a picture of him wearing an ugly bright-green grinch sweater goes viral as long as you keep smiling at him every time you turn around to show him something. and it all pays off when you arrive home, after a day full of activities, and he feels your arms wrapping around him as you tell him how grateful you are between kisses.
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★ — MAX VERSTAPPEN (33/1)
max goes all out to make every christmas special and makes sure to have the days leading up to christmas free so you can go shopping together. what max loves the most is how you slip your hand inside his coat’s pocket so you can still hold hands. and when he sees all the ingredients to make a gingerbread house, of course he has to buy it. so when he comes home with a big smile you don’t hesitate to clean the kitchen and sit down to put it together. and it chaos, neither of you had done it before and it ends up being anything but a gingerbread house, but you love it, you made it together so it has a special place on the countertop where everyone can see it.
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★ — ALEX ALBON (23)
every year since you and alex have together he takes you to an ice rink. you both have learn a lot of tricks that, of course, end up with you bumping into people and falling. it’s your favorite night in december where you can just be kids together. the night ends up with you two walking down the christmas fair, sharing candy canes and hot cocoa while arguing about what movie to watch that night. and if you find yourselves under a mistletoe making out, well, nobody needs to know that.
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★ — DANIEL RICCIARDO (3)
daniel loves christmas in australia because he can be with you for a full month and scape the cold, too. all his family gets together on christmas eve and every year you are a bundle of nerves. they love you, you know that and daniel makes sure you remember, he also makes you forget all about nerves dragging you to the kitchen where the little ones are setting out all the snacks for santa and his reindeers. you finish with only half the cookies and carrots because daniel can’t help himself. after that all the adults gather in the living room to drink and chat. it’s a little different tradition, but you love it.
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★ — MICK SCHUMACHER (47)
mick loves to do a mini photoshoot on christmas day with your matching pajamas because you two look so pretty in them, and needs it for his collection. then, sitting by the fireplace to exchange gifts before going your separate ways to spend christmas with your families. he always has that big and bright smile on his face that you love so much when it’s your turn to open your presents. you say your goodbyes outside in the snow, kissing and getting wet but not caring at all. you promise to see each other the next day to snuggle up in the couch and see your favorite holiday movies together.
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