#it’s her fault for not giving me enough tasks to fill my time today

[bi-buckrights]

Writing Poll Game

Tagged by @disasterbuckdiaz @monsterrae1 @loserdiaz @cowboy-buddie @honestlydarkprincess thanks y’all 💕

Tell me what to write next after I finish army marriage of convenience next week ✨

Not added anything about them here but if you’re curious feel free to DM/send an ask ✨

Tagging @prettyboybuckley @rogerzsteven @alyxmastershipper @heartshapedvows @911onabc @spaceprincessem @shortsighted-owl @bekkachaos @spotsandsocks @thewolvesof1998 @wildlife4life @hippolotamus

[kasiobite03]

QSMP Fanfic Recs

(qjaiden and qroier focused) (mostly qjaiden)

The Spider Web In The Corner - Mothsdotcom Summary:

Jaiden sits in Bobby's room. Oh how it use to be filled with life. Now the paintings done by small hands are collecting dust and cobwebs. She examines all the strokes on the canvases. Too scared to touch them as they might disappear forever if she did. One of the last things to remember her son by. She looks towards a corner of the room. A spider in it's web inhabits the space, it crawls delicately across the web before hiding in the crack of the wood plank. She remembers this corner, a happy memory floods her head. -- Or Jaiden reminisces on a specific memory of her happy family in Bobby's room

Night Flight - JayWritezForFun

Summary:

" No? You don't want to go on the speedboat? " Bobby shook his head. " Okay, Bicycles? " Bobby shook his head again. Jaiden was getting a little confused for a bit before she put Bobby down, seeing him run over to his drawer and pull out his pen and sketch paper. Immediately he wrote something and run over back to Jaiden as he held the sketchbook up for her to read. ' Fly ' it read. - Bobby then gets curious enough and wants to fly with Jaiden because she has wings, but Jaiden still had some injuries ever since the explosion of the wall from the first day of the QSMP How will this turn out for both of them?

A Drink Between Friends - acollectionofcuriouscontent

Summary:

Jaiden and Roier have both found themselves pulled on all sides by the approaching wedding and Cucurrucho’s tasks, but even they manage to find some peace in the storm with one another.

Aceptar. - Alewew_Souris

Summary:

“La muerte no es el final, es un inicio. Aquellos que se van, no nos abandonan. Jamas nos abandonan." Pero Missa esta aprendiendo y lo hace lento, asi que debe entender en el proceso que todos aceptan la muerte de forma diferente.

i brought a lighter - ThatGrayMushroom

Summary:

Jaiden shows Cellbit her house, they smoke, they talk.

I miss you even when you're here - Madison_Arden

Summary:

Jaiden has time travelled to the very beginnings of the island shortly after Festa Junina. She has to deal with travelling between the ghosts of her former family.

Family is Where the Heart Is - Anonymous [Note: you need to be logged in to view this fic]

Summary:

Jaiden curled her wings further into herself. Once upon a time, it was enough for her to imagine that it was a hug but nothing could ever compare to a Roier hug. She had gotten it for the past couple of months and it felt horrible to have gone so long without one. Roier was the best partner, and best dad to Bobby, and she couldn’t be more thankful to the island and to Bobby for bringing them together. But right now, she would give anything to get another Roier hug. Anything at all. -------------------- or: Jaiden's place on the server was with her family- her son Bobby and platonic partner Roier. But with Bobby gone, where does she stand with Roier?

la crianza - atthebell

Summary:

A series of drabbles on egg parenthood and what it means to love and care for something that is meant to die.

Prométeme - WhyB

Summary:

She never felt guilty about using her own things. If Jaiden decided, hey, today I’m going to take all of my supplies and risk building this stupid contraption that may or may not work, then she could do it knowing failure or not, she was the only one at fault. However, in the rush between taking care of Bobby and her sudden absence, she never got around to proper mining and ended up either behind the curve of everyone else in terms of tools, or being gifted them by Roier. When she fails, it’s Roier’s things she’s wasting. And that… feels awful. == OR; Jaiden is going to tell Roier and Bobby she's moving out. She ends up not doing that.

Gnaw - I_Fear_I_Fell

Summary:

Jaiden swallowed. Looked into Roier’s face: stared into the openness she could see there and tried to meet it with her own. “Do you ever wish you had a different partner? Instead of me?” Or: Jaiden struggles to find her place. Roier helps.

curious, furious (i feel alone) - bravehearteds

Summary:

In the dark, Spreen almost looks like someone she could trust. Jaiden wonders just what kind of revelations the break of dawn will bring forth. (After Bobby dies, Jaiden finds understanding in an unlikely place. It's not solace, but it's not nothing either. That has got to count for something.)

[geenalovesthelittlethings]

They seem really fucking excited for me to start in sales, I have never gotten a message from them this early before the earliest I have gotten is half past nine. The message was from Alice in HR asking me if I had talked to my supervisor yet and asked why I was moved which I did yesterday and never answered their messages after. Like I don’t know I’m not really in a fucking rush to answer you, you both ignored the part where I told you I won’t be able to get my bachelors if I don’t complete an internship focused on design and that’s the reason I’m here and what it says on the papers you signed!!!! And I have some compassion for Alice because she is a intern too so she is just trying to do her tasks but I don’t appreciate when the first thing in the morning I ask for a task from the design team and don’t hear shit for the whole day until 1 pm I get a message from the head of HR run by the intern that started a week before me telling me that I was moved to sales without giving me a reason. Ugh I’m so sick and tired of this shit, I have only talked to two people from this company that are actually employees and one of them was an intern before. The rest have been interns and I don’t know about anybody else but if the majority of people from your company I get to meet are interns warning bells are starting to sound in my head like why do you have 14 interns at the same time and then tell me you don’t have the resources to train me in the design department whose fault is that not mine that’s for sure!

I contacted my teacher and filled her in what was happening and she did not seem happy so she is going to call me today and we will try and find a solution but I think no matter the solution we agree on my situation will get better because I highly doubt she will tell me to just go over to sales. She is the best teacher and very supportive, understanding and helpful so I look forward to getting to talk to her and my hope is that I can leave my internship here early and maybe like get an assignment from her to do instead with the rest of my time here because I have not learned anything from my internship so far, only that I need to stop taking so much shit without complaining. I just want to get away from this company because they have been so unwelcoming and a pain to deal with and every morning it has been difficult to even get out of bed because I dreaded work.

I’m sorry for sending such a long message to you AGAIN but I’m really angry and stressed and none of my friends are available to talk because they are all at their own internships

What a MESS. I'm sorry, baby. It's good that you're keeping in contact with your teacher and letting them know what's goin on. It's not your fault if this company can't give you the hours you need. They entered into an agreement to do so, and if they can no longer uphold that agreement, they should be contacting your teacher or school and letting them know they can no longer support interns or the expectations of this externship. Regardless it shouldn't be held against you if they can't give you enough hours.

Also this place sounds sus if they have interns running HR lol.

Anyway, I hope it all gets resolved for you! I know how frustrating it feels. You understood it was going to be one way, and it's turning out to be a whole different way you didn't expect.

[wornoutmouse]

Look I wrote this for my friend but i popped the hell off with this one so if you don’t mind reading a name inbetween a few dialogue points pls read

You ran hurriedly through the halls of the school as the third bell finally rang. You had overslept and had barely made it onto the bus. Skidding to a stop, you slow down when you get to the door, catching your breath before entering. Just as you annoyingly expected, eyes dart towards you as soon as you entered, effectively catching the teacher’s attention.

 “This is the second time you are late young lady, one more time and I will have no choice but to write you up.” You smile awkwardly, “Sorry Miss, it won’t happen again.”  Ms. Bustier clicks her tongue disapprovingly as she watched her student walk to her seat, head hanging low. You sit down in your chair with a soft sigh as Ms. Bustier spoke about today’s lesson.

For the most part, you pay attention to the lesson being taught, that is until your attention is being interrupted by a pencil poking your side. From your peripheral vision, you see fluffy blond hair swaying gently to get your attention. You mutter under your breath, swiping the pencil with your hand, “Quit it Adrien I’m already in trouble.” The boy huffs but the playful aura still hung around making your skin buzz with excitement.

 Shifting in your seat, you squint your eyes at the smartboard, writing down notes every so often. Looking down once again, you notice a small piece of paper folded, You look at Adrien who boredly watched your teacher speak. Opening the paper you roll your eyes at the note inside. 

A - Late again are you Miss Mia? One more time and I might have to wake you up myself

Nibbling the tip of your pencil you write a note back, crumpling the paper before tossing it at Adrien’s head with a smirk.

You- Well maybe I wouldn’t have been so tired if you hadn’t interrupted my study time with your modeling rants

The paper is tossed back at your head, catching in your curly hair, making Adrien snort.

A- Well I can think of other ways to keep you up at night...

You cough loudly at the message, eyes darting at Adrien’s laid-back figure. You scribble down a quick snarky reply with shaking hands. You go to pass the paper but the sound of a throat clearing interrupts you. You turn to your left and are forced to look up, gulping when you notice your teacher’s signature white blazer. She holds her hand out and you reluctantly place the ball of paper in her hand.

“While I will not embarrass you by reading out your hidden messages, I will embarrass you by writing you up for detention.” Sputtering, you point an accusing finger at the smug boy behind you, “He started it first I was just..” You are hushed by a firm hand on your shoulder, “Well if that’s the case, both you and Adrien can join each other at study hall.” Adrien groans behind you and you throw a glare his way, one that he responds with a teasing wink. The sound of the bell ringing grimly reminds you of the dreadful time awaiting you in study hall after school.

 When you get thereAdrien is already there and waves you over to him. You narrow your eyes at him but sit next to him anyway. “Aww don’t look at me like that Mi, it’s not my fault you aren’t stealthy enough to pass a simple note in class.” You roll your eyes, “Well if you weren’t tossing notes like a child, we wouldn’t be here either.” Adrien laughs loudly earning a sharp look from the detention monitor. 

He mutters a silent apology as you busy yourself with a notepad and pencil. The study hall is silent and boring and 11 minutes feel like 11 hours as the clock ticks by. Adrien watches your small scribbles turn into different shapes and sizes. Before long, he notices you drawing a rather familiar face. “Whatcha drawing?” You shrug, watching your pencil make the shape of cat-like ears.

You continue drawing, briefly recognizing Adrien’s body heat as he watches over your shoulder. “You like Chat Noir huh?” Your precise pencil strokes outline the lean frame of one of Paris’s heros. While it is undoubtedly Chart Noir in a heroic setting, the way his eyes slant a little more than his mask allows and the way one of his hands rested on his chest did give way to a more seductive undertone. 

“Yeah, I think he’s pretty hot not gonna lie.” Adrien hums, the feeling of his short breaths blowing against your shoulder makes you shiver. “Really? Well, he can’t be hotter than I can he?” Adrien fluffs his hair pompously as he stretches his body lazily. “I don’t know maybe a little.” Adrien sticks his tongue out at you.

Your monitor stands up and walks towards the door before turning around, “Listen you two, I am going to get lunch, and I better see you two here when I come back or you’ll get worse than detention.” The teacher fixes you both with a long look before leaving. “They are a little stiff in the ass.” You chuckle resting your head on your palm. Adrien slouches in his chair to play on his phone, giving you the perfect opportunity to observe him. Your friend is attractive, that is something you’ve come to terms with a long time ago, hiding your crush away deep in your mind. 

“You like to stare at me when you think?” His tenor voice startles you out of thought and you realize you now have his full attention. Your face is warm and for once you are glad you couldn’t visibly blush. 

“Hey, Adrien? What did you mean by that last message you passed me in class?” You tried to pass the question off as casual but you could feel your heart racing as the room filled with daunting silence. “What do you think I meant?” 

Suddenly Adrien felt too close and the room felt smaller. When you made eye contact with him, his eyes were slanted just like Chat Noirs on your drawing. “You tell me.” You said boldly. Adrien pondered for a while, green eyes observing your features, going from your eyes, down your nose before finally resting on your plump lips. “Well, I think it meant exactly what it said.” Adrien placed a hand on your thigh, squeezing the flesh in his palm. “So tell me why you like Cat Noir?” You stare at nothing, unable to compute the absurd request that came seemingly out of nowhere.

“What?” Adrian’s hand doesn’t stop moving on your thigh, heating your skin through your jeans. “Come on Mi, humor me for a moment.” You hum softly in an attempt at calming your heart rate. “Well, I like how he seems to enjoy what he does,  saving people...” As you speak Adrien takes the time to scoot closer to you paying a sparing glance at the door your teacher left out of a moment ago. “What would you do if you met him?” His hands got closer to your inner thigh fiddling with your belt loops.

The urge to clench your legs together was immediate as the fire within you grew stronger. “I would thank him for his service and-” Adrien shushes you with the sound of your belt clinking a loose. “Let me rephrase, what do you want him to do to you?” Before you had comprehended your predicament, Adrien’s hand had found itself inside your pants.

You were sitting rigidly in your chair, lips parted in a silent exhale. Slender fingers focused themselves on your swelling bud, pressing soft circles on it in an effort to coax it out of its hood. Noting your tensed posture, Adrien tries to distract you. He’ll admit even to himself that this was a bold move on his part and he was surprised you hadn’t pushed him off at this point. “I can stop if you want me to?” You feel his fingers stop their ministrations and you quickly grab his wrist. “No!”

His concerned demeanor is quickly wiped away by a broad smirk as his fingers resumed their task. “Okay then.” He places a kiss on your shoulder through your shirt making you shiver. “You didn’t answer my question.” You nod and try to speak in a stable manner. “I would want him to- oh god!” Adrien’s fingers began to work overtime as they went down to your lips, now wet with your arousal. “I would want him to touch me there! Please.” 

Lips latched lazily on your skin, sucking hard enough for you to feel it but not hard enough for marks to be left behind. “Where is’ there’ Mia? Use your words.” Your back arched in your chair when you felt his slick index finger playfully dip inside of you before returning to your clit.  “Adrien~” Your soft moans were audible now, and every small whimper made his cock ache at the thought of being the cause of your sweet noises. Adrien mockingly hummed, “Oh I see now.”

“You want him to fuck that pretty pussy of yours don’t you?”  You make a strange noise that is a mix of surprise and a moan. You’d never think words like those could leave Adrien’s mouth. “Y-Yes!”  Adrien nodded moving to use both hands now, it was an awkward position but it was worth it seeing you fall apart by his hands. “I bet you think of him at night, kissing you slowly, while his hands roam your body.”  Adrien sinks his teeth in your shoulder blade making you jerk as a particularly hard burst of pleasure racks your body. “You look so damn sexy like this kitty cat.’

You lean forward, holding yourself up by your desk as Adrien’s fingers move faster on your clit. “I can feel how fast your heart is beating, you gonna cum?” The teasing tone in his voice ignited the smallest ounce of competitiveness within you. You grit your teeth and shake your head, “Don’t get so full of yourself Agreste.” Your eyes clenched shut at the feeling of a finger finally entering you. Adrien looked at you with narrowed eyes. He wasn’t a fan when you got competitive, especially when you were obviously bluffing.

There was a thin layer of sweat forming on your skin as your orgasm got closer. Adrien focused on the way your walls quivered around his finger. Your choked-back moans cut the air as he pumps his finger faster. Your wetness was dripping onto your underwear and around his palm making squelching noises. “Are you sure you aren’t going to cum?” Adrien whispered close to your ear taking glee when a tremor passed down your spine. Your orgasm was too damn close for him to stop so you decide to swallow your pride just this once. “F-faster, Adrien, I’m close.” Those were indeed the wrong words to say. Adrien slowed his finger down to slow pumps while his thumb pressed harshly on your clit. He laughed as he could practically feel it throbbing, “I thought you said you weren’t going to cum?” You try to grind down on his hand, bucking slightly as his rough palm stimulated your sensitive lips. “Don’t be an ass ah-fuck!”

You grip the edge of your desk as you finally cum on his hand. Your eyelids flutter and Adrien marvels that the feeling of your cunt that was squeezing him so tightly he could neither tell if it was pulling him in or pushing him out. 

You grunt as he removes his finger, when you look over at him, he is preoccupied with pulling his cock out while licking his fingers clean of your cum. Adrien whimpered around his fingers as his other hand jerked his cock sharply “Ah, you taste better than I thought.” Your eyes travel down his chest to meet his junior. It was thick and surprisingly long. You couldn’t help but feel sorrow for the angry red it was at the tip. But the vein traveling up the side made your mouth water.

His hips bucked to meet his hand desperately. Curses left his soft lips as he tossed his head back in pleasure. A deep warmth flooded your gut from the vibrant imagery of him fucking you with it. “Mia-ah shit.” You raise your head up to meet his eyes, your heart skipping a beat at how the green of his eyes was almost completely drowned by his pupils. “It’s not fair if I helped you get you off, but you won’t help me.” You scootch forward a little bit, swallowing your saliva, “What do you want me to do?” Adrien spread his legs with his hands holding the sides of his chair, “Come on Mi, I haven’t even fucked you yet and you’ve already gone dumb?” 

A hand comes on your shoulder and gently coaxes you down to your knees. You feel small as Adrien peers down at you,  gaze disrupted as his cock begins twitching in front of you. Nervousness enters your head as you quickly come to the realization of how large his dick actually was. “What, are you afraid Mia? Or do I need to get you into the mood?”  Adrien sits up straighter, “Claws out.”  Your tilt your head curious as he combs his fingers through his hair, revealing...cat ears? The sight of a green glow slithering around his body was almost as unnerving as the sight of his outfit changing right before you. 

In little as no time flat, Paris’s neighborhood hero sat in front of you in all his leather glory. His eyes seemed even greener than before, and his personality seemed to change right before you. “Adrien you’re Chat Noir!?” The blond shrugs nonchalantly, gripping his cock and slapping it against your cheek. “Mi I am all for the formalities, but I am so close to fucking your brains out right now, that I think it would be in your best interest to start sucking.” While still being conscious of your hairstyle, Adrien...Noir, pulls your head closer to his groin.

You resist the urge to scrunch your face at the feeling of precum being smeared on your mouth and chin. This resistance only makes Noir chuckle, “Stick your tongue out for me.”  As if it was routine, you do as he says and moan softly from the feeling of his tip tapping your warm muscle. “So fucking perfect for me.”  The praise makes you clench and gives you the courage to open your mouth wider. You suck on his member making him release a pleased growl. His hand laid limply on the back of your head as you take the lead.

The salty taste while slightly unpleasant, wholly addictive. Feeling your growing comfort, Adrien begins thrusting to meet your mouth. The tip of his cock goes all the way to the back of your throat making you choke before dragging back but the sounds of you struggling doesn’t dissuade him. The feeling of your tongue grazing over his vein just before your throat constricted around him drove him wild. Your tiny whimpers made his balls vibrate as he moved faster.

You place your hands on his thighs in order to stable yourself as his thrusts got more brutal. Slob collected around your mouth before dripping down your chin and finally collected by his balls every time they hit your jaw. “Fuck I’m going to cum, I’m going to cum!” Adrien’s voice pitched higher as his claws scratched into the wooden chair of his seat. His head tossed back violently as his thrusts became sloppy, legs shaking. Loud sobs left his mouth as you bright him closer to the edge each thrust is accentuated by filthy words. “Your mouth is so. fucking. Tight. Fuck Mia!”

You felt cum shoot down your throat as Adrien holds your head painfully against this crotch. He weakly thrusts into your mouth a few more times before realizing you. Gasping for air, you wipe your mouth of saliva and look up at Adrien as he catches his breath.  Rough hands grip your chin making you look up at him. “You looked wrecked Mi.” Adrien laughs as he wipes cum off the corner of your mouth.  You stand up wobbly and albeit a bit light-headed, Adrien stands with you and kisses your lips, enjoying the taste of himself in your mouth.

“We are going to finish this later.” Before your brain could even prompt you to ask, the bell rings signaling that detention was over. Adrien deactivates his miraculous before grabbing his backpack and leaving detention hall.

[skiyoosmi]

post-break up heartaches

verse 1. in the car that used to drive us to our home

⤷ kuroo tetsurou, oikawa tooru — more characters coming soon

⤷ verse 2 | verse 3

⤷ play. never let me go by ghostly kisses, forget about us by clinton kane

commissions: open

⇢ KUROO sighs for the umpteenth time of the day. he was so fucking exhausted and his body's about to give in to sleep any moment now. work has been beating his ass; there was this newbie who kept on messing up the documents needed by the board and for the whole day, he had to be the one to fix said issues. it's not like he wasn't paid enough for that; if anything, his paycheck was one of the most beautiful things he laid his eyes on— but god, even his body has its own limits and yet...

"ya.... yer not supposed to do this anymore. y-ya left me, remember?" you slurred, index finger pointing right at his chest as he circled his arms around your waist, huffing as you practically dropped all your weight on him. here he was, suddenly given the task of having to take you home after your supposed-to-be designated driver, miya fucking atsumu, also drank his brains out with you.

"be patient. still heartbroken because of you, y'know?" kenma softly tells him despite the tipsy feeling lurking in the back of his mind, shaking his head as he looked at you, whose system finally shut down and were now dozing off in the black haired man's arms.

"..... still?" he mumbles, looking down at your figure and he feels his heart contract with pain all over again.

"you can't expect her to be fine immediately, kuroo. it was your wedding day, supposed to be the greatest day of her life and yet it became the worst one... you left her at the altar alone."

he didn't reply anything— or rather, he was unable to. because what can he say to refute the truth? nothing. instead, he proceeded to his car with you still in his hold. he places you on the passenger seat, locking the seatbelts before jogging to the driver's side.

the car ride was calm as you slept soundly with your head occasionally hitting the window lightly as it swayed from side to side. he was sure as hell that if you were sober right now, you wouldn't even have the thought of seeing him cross your mind. he just knows for sure that you despise him with your whole being... at least, that's what he thought until...

"i'm sorry, tetsu. please come back," you whimper in your seat, voice quiet but he heard it nonetheless, "tell me what i did wrong so i can fix it."

the pitiful sounds and mumbles you made struck kuroo right in the heart and which makes him pull over an empty but safe road, just a block away from your (previously shared) apartment. looking over your form, he finds himself reaching out to touch your face, caressing your cheeks as drops of tears fell down slowly on them, "you didn't do anything wrong. you were fine. you were so perfect."

you squint your eyes at him, probably wondering if this was real or just a part of your drunken imagination. nonetheless, you hiccuped, "y-you... you left me and i... i still can't even bring myself to hate you... i just wanna ask you why? i just want to understand."

he thought he also knew the reason why but every single time he thinks about it, he's only led to one conclusion: because he was a coward. no way was this any of your fault— it's definitely not your fault that right at that moment, as he stared at the mirror, wearing the black suit you chose for him, the sudden fear of commitment loomed over him. it's not like it was your fault he suddenly got scared of losing you the way his parents lost each other. but now he thinks it's ironic, because he lost you anyway.

maybe... just maybe, if he had just met you where you stood at the altar, instead of leaving you alone in it, maybe he would've been happier. maybe his days would've started more with a smile from you as you helped him fix his necktie before going to work. maybe, the working hours he spends in the shitty corporate world would've been more worth it if it meant he can come home to you at the end of the day. maybe... maybe he wouldn't have to be stuck with this lump in his throat as he wonders what could've been happening if he just chose to show up and vowed his life to you.

but he didn't.

"i realized i wasn't just ready to tie my life with anyone yet. that's all there is to it, yn."

so with a heavy feeling stuck in his chest and a quiet promise to never see you again for the sake of not hurting you further, he starts the car's engine again, ignoring the words you replied but he was sure they will haunt him for a very long time... again.

i can wait for you no matter how long it takes, tetsu, you know that.

⇢ OIKAWA gives you what seems like a guilty smile as he stands in front of you, opening his arms and gesturing you to come closer. but the stoic expression on your face takes him back to the reality that the last thing you wanted to do today was to actually fetch him from the airport. it just so happens that his three best friends were caught up with work that they had no choice but to send you, the main ex-bestfriend slash ex-girlfriend, to him.

why did you agree when you practically loathe him with your whole being? well, it was probably because you weren't the devil who would reject your friends when they were literally on their knees as they begged you and for some reason, you thought he'll look pitiful going back to his home country after five years with no one to welcome him. yeah, that's it. it's not like you're still in love with him or anything.

"my car's just around the corner," you begrudgingly walk towards the car park with him quietly following. at the moment, he knew better than to get on your nerves or else there would be war. he hates that this happened to the both of you but he can't blame anyone else but himself. because who wouldn't hate their ex-boyfriend if they suddenly broke up with them over a phone call?

tension filled the car as you both sat beside each other. perhaps, this was what other people were talking about when they say that it's impossible for exes to be friends again, to not feel any awkwardness because you were sure as hell that the word "awkward" was an understatement of your situation right now. nevertheless, your eyes couldn't help but wander to his figure as he adjusted his body, opting for a more comfortable position in the passenger's seat.

he looked more youthful and you felt bittersweet— proud that his whole aura screams of "success" which meant that gone were the days where he longed to get that winter cup trophy, nor the times when he overworked himself and put a strain on his knee which led to countless arguments with you. if anything, he looked happier and it sucks because you're not even close to feeling that way... not without him.

"i heard you've finally gotten yourself your own condominium? that's great, yn!" he exclaimed as soon as you began driving to your destination, a hope lit within him that maybe you might just respond to him. just one smile, that's all i need, he thinks.

but you remain focused on your driving, choosing to reply with a single nod and a soft "yeah..."

disappointment fills his heart as he faces the truth that your relationship has really been ruined, along with your friendship. all because he was foolish to think that he couldn't handle the physical distance between you two. realization dawns upon him that he just made that same distance worse as you pull your heart further away from him.

"... i actually bought it for the two of us, you know?" he whips his head to your direction in surprise, heart clenching as he watch you let out a sad chuckle, "i just... i thought it would be nice if we had a place to permanently stay at and for you to have a home to go to when you're at japan. but yeah... i guess things doesn't go our way sometimes, does it?"

"i'm sor—"

"it's okay. i'm fine now," you quickly reply, shaking your head but keeping your eyes on the road. he tries to ignore the tears that start to form in them because he has no right to stop them, knowing full well that he was the one who caused them in the first place.

as if on cue, you halt your vehicle in front of a familiar apartment and much to your dismay, you find yourself looking back in the past when you used to live in that same place, making wonderful memories with the chocolate haired lad with you. you clear your throat to stop the sob that desperately attempts to escape your throat, "uhm... we're here."

"oh, yeah. we're here," he numbly states, already missing you despite the mere inches of space separating the two of you. you just felt so far away and he hates it. but this was the path he chose so he gets out of your car along with his things, turning to you once more, "uhh... thanks for the ride, yn. i know you probably hate me but yeah... it's very nice of you to put that past us and i guess i just want to say sorry for hurting you... i just..."

"i don't hate you, tooru," you softly tell him, "i just don't want anything to do with you anymore. to see you this happy, without me, is like a slap in the face because i'm not. it still hurts and i'm not fine. i just hope this will be the last time we'll see each other. be safe on your trip back to argentina. welcome home."

and with that, you start the car's engine again, no longer having the energy nor the strength to hear his reply. but he wishes you did because as he watches your car drive further away from him, he can't help but wish that he can take back time so that you don't have to go to that condominium and instead, go inside the home you once shared with him.

but i'm not happy, yn. because how could i call this place my home when you're not here with me?

at that moment, unbeknownst to the two hearts that long for each other break at the same time, you finally let out the tears and cries that you've been keeping since you saw him, knowing that no matter how much you try, you'll never be as happy as you were with him— simply because he left you with a hole in your heart that no one else can fill.

© SKIYOOSMI, 2021. reposting, translating, editing, copying and any kind of plagiarism are strictly prohibited, thank you.

[yougotthatbilly]

take care (m)

→ member: johnny seo

→ genre: assistant!johnny | smut

→ word count: 15.9k (not surprised atp)

→ playlist: body talk x majid jordan, warm x majid jordan, BoRdErSz x zayn, moment x victoria monét

→ warnings: slowburn, indecisiveness, v  self-indulgent; unprofessional relations, big dick!johnny (ofc; don’t expect anything else), soft dom!johnny, begging (johnny’s a tease), subspace, oral; face-fucking, (and if you squint, ass eating), unprotected sex, squirting, praising, overstimulation, etc. 

↳ summary: your assistant just wants to take care of you

The heavy rain outside mocks you. You were supposed to be at your favorite bar across the street, but here you are sitting at your desk, staring out your window. And that’s how Johnny finds you after being granted entrance into your office.

Your arm is propped up on the arm of your seat, cheek in hand, lips pouted. Johnny does his best not to smile at the thought of you looking adorable as not to piss you off. He just sets your cup of tea down on the coaster on the corner of your desk. 

“How was the meeting?” he asks, taking a seat on the other side of your desk. 

You slowly spin to face him, looking at him with annoyed eyes as you take a sip of your tea. It’s the perfect temperature—a temperature Johnny took almost a month to perfect— and sweetness, and it instantly makes you feel a little better.

“Don’t worry,” you sigh. “Jiyoung didn’t get fired.” You have a three-strike policy; this incident is the second strike.

“Jaehyun,” Johnny corrects, grinning.

You tilt your head at his correction. “I care?”

Johnny just shakes his head, knowing you’re being petty because Jaehyun got his dates wrong and uploaded a post on a few new products a week earlier than the scheduled date, resulting in having to speed things up a little. It didn’t cause a major problem because you’re typically prepared for the worst case scenario, but you don’t like feeling rushed and when things don’t go as planned, so you were pissed. 

“What’s his punishment?”

“That’s between me and him,” you tell Johnny before taking another sip. Your lip curls in disgust at the suggestive look your assistant gives you. “Okay, let’s not be gross. He’s a child.”

“I didn’t know 23 was considered a child,” Johnny teases, mostly because the man of the hour has had a crush on you for the last year he’s been working for you and he’s been trying to get Johnny to talk him up to you. 

“I didn’t know you wanted to get fired in his place,” you say with a tight smile. Johnny decides to switch the subject.

“Mind me asking why you looked so sad when I walked in?”

You sigh once more, slouching in your seat.

“I wanted to go to the bar…” You point to the window beside you. Johnny follows your finger and watches the storm that hasn’t let up since it started half an hour ago. “That’s not happening anytime soon.”

You’ve either been in your office working nonstop or sleeping for the last week or so and you can feel a burnout creeping up. You were going to walk to the bar to get the fresh air you needed, enjoy a drink and your favorite wings because you deserve it—especially after the headache Jaehyun caused the moment you stepped foot into your office this morning—and indulge yourself. Now look at you, hardly munching on the fruit slices Johnny gave you this morning and almost finished with your tea.

“I’m sorry things aren’t going the way you planned today.” Johnny pouts. “On the bright side, you don’t have anything else on your schedule so if you wanted to go home within the next hour, you wouldn’t fall behind.”

“I’ll probably just take a nap on the futon once I’m done looking over the new plan again.” You shrug. 

Johnny wants to roll his eyes, but he catches himself. He’s sure you’ve already gone over it at least five times. There’s nothing he can do about it, though, so lifts himself out of his seat. “I’ll leave you to it. Just give me a call if something comes up or you change your mind.”

To both of your surprise, you actually head out and get yourself a candle you’d ran out of a week ago on the way home to treat yourself to a much needed bath filled with bubbles and essential oils. The scent of the candle reminds you of your assistant because it’s the scent he got you for your birthday, and it’s become your favorite. 

You send a picture of the candle at the end of your tub to Johnny, thanking him again for putting you onto greatness, as he worded it before when you first smelled it in front of him and your eyes practically rolled back. 

[18:14] John Suh: Are you actually relaxing???

You suck your teeth at his response, but you can’t blame him. He’s the only one that knows just how much you put in to get to the position you’re in, while you’re positive a lot of others just think it was handed to you by your mother instead of the school and endless hours work you went through and continue to go through. It’s very rare you give yourself the time to truly sit back and relax aside from when you’re on vacation. And even then, work never really stops. It just gets placed on the back burner for a little.

[18:16] you: Hush.

[18:17] John Suh: I’m just glad you’re taking care of yourself. Your dark circles have been snitching on you.

[18:17] you: Wow. You really wanna get fired today, huh?

[18:18] John Suh: Dark circles or not, you know you’re still beautiful. Now stop texting me and enjoy your bath!

When you find yourself smiling at your phone, you know you should do exactly what he says. Johnny’s always been a complimenter, though his usual kindness goes along the lines of telling you that you look nice. You’re no stranger to this specific compliment, you get it all the time on Instagram from your business partners and supporters. So why does this time settle differently within you?

[18:21] you: Nice save. 

You need a video of one of your popular social media influencer ambassadors using and reviewing your newest skincare products tomorrow—due to Jaehyun’s mix-up—but that’s not happening. She didn’t record it before going on vacation and didn’t think to bring the products with her on her trip. While it isn’t her fault times have moved around, you’re annoyed she didn’t bring the products with her when she’s supposed to be using them every day because she’s one of your main advocates for your products being oily skin-friendly. You have the videos of the other models with their specific skin types, and this is your missing piece. 

The weather is nice today, so you take a much-needed break from electronics and go to the roof of the building. Your peace is quickly interrupted by the body of a six-foot male in front of you, standing in the way of the sunlight you were basking in.

“I know you hate him right now,” Johnny begins, skipping over greetings to get to the point of his disruption. “But Jaehyun has oily skin, he’s been using the products you gave him for like three weeks, he really likes them, and he has a good following on Instagram.”

You take the phone handed to you begrudgingly and look at Jaehyun’s page. Thirteen thousand followers and quality pictures. You’re not blind, Jaehyun is conventionally attractive and looks like a model in the photos and boomerangs. Something is missing, though. “Eh.”

“‘Eh?’” Johnny parrots, confused. He doesn’t know a better last-minute model for you than Jaehyun.

“Something’s missing,” you explain with a shrug. You absentmindedly tap the profile icon at the bottom of the screen and Johnny’s Instagram profile pops up. The two of you follow each other, so it’s not like you’ve never seen his pictures, but it’s been a while since you actually paid attention to detail. He has eighteen thousand followers and apparently uploads his pictures following a color theme. There are pictures of himself, random people, and nature in a strategic flow. When you select a video to watch, you’re sold on the lighting, exposure, and the way he captured the woman’s features. “Sit.”

Johnny does so without any questions. You gently grab his jaw and study his face closely. His skin is supple and dewy, the sun highlighting his cheekbones and the bridge of his nose. Not that his skin was bad before he started using your products, but the texture and scarring have minimized quite a bit. Johnny doesn’t have the typical, bland model face your competitors love so much, especially with the slight stubble he’s got above his top lip and on his chin. 

“What’s your skin type, John?” 

“Oily,” he sighs, knowing what’s coming next. He was doing his job as your assistant, trying to make your life easier, but now he wishes he would’ve left this task to the social media department and stayed out of it. 

You thought so. “Will you do this for me instead?”

“Do I look like an influencer to you?” 

“Yes. I’ll double your next check and everything,” you promise him. “You actually have a personality and everything you post is quality. Women will love the eye candy and all types of men will take you seriously because you don’t have that annoying pristine, perfect look to you like Jaeyoung does.”

Johnny is here to fulfill your needs, so he knows you asking is really just you being polite. He doesn’t have much of a choice, especially with the lack of time you have. He is enjoying the warmth of your hand and the fact you referred to him as ‘eye candy,’ too. And who is he to say no to extra money?

“I’ll have it recorded and edited by midnight,” Johnny smiles, giving you the hope you need. 

“Ugh, you’re the best,” you sigh in relief, shaking his face side to side affectionately before letting him go to stand up. You feel much better now. “Send it directly to me.” 

Johnny stands up with you and leads the way, opening the door for you. “Yes, ma’am.”

Always true to his word, Johnny emails you two links at a quarter-till, with a message attached: 

Good evening, 

I edited two videos for you, one short enough for a regular post on the company’s page and the other that could be used for my IGTV for my followers. I hope these meet your expectations, but if there’s anything you need me to fix or redo, let me know and I’ll get right to it. 

Sincerely, 

John Suh

You get comfortable in your bed with your iPad and tap the first link. You make sure the brightness and volume are high enough to get the full effect, then press play. The quality of the film makes you assume he used a professional camera instead of his phone, and he gets a point for that. 

“Hey,” Johnny starts with an awkwardly endearing smile. “I know this is a little different than what I usually post, but I got scouted by the skincare goddess herself to be an ambassador for Surreal’s new line of skincare, Ethereal.”

You grin at the nickname and note that with him being in the bathroom, there’s no echo in his audio, and that gives him another point.

“I’ve been using the four of the five products I’m about to introduce to you everyday for around a month and before I do my skincare routine for you, I’ll show you what my skin looked like before I started using these products with dates so you don’t think I’m just trying to sell you on them just because she’s been writing my checks for the last year,” Johnny chuckles, then the screen shows a selfie Johnny took with the date of a month ago from today, some hyperpigmentation and small bumps dotting his cheek and jaw. 

Another point for including before and afters. You knew he’d meet your expectations without you having to say much.  

“I’ll get up close and personal at the end so you can really see the results,” Johnny winks into the camera, causing you to blink. 

You knew he’d have personality and that was one of the main reasons he was a great idea, and while in hindsight his actions are predictable, you shake your head. The fact that he’s actually charming makes you scoff, but you’re sure that the damn wink only worked on you right now because it’s almost midnight and you should be asleep right now. You won’t act like he hasn’t always been nice on the eyes, but he’s Johnny. 

You can’t deny that you do thoroughly enjoy the Johnny presented to you through the screen, though. 

“The first product is an oil-based cleanser because the SPF in this collection is oil-based as well,” Johnny explains, then proceeds to show the jar and small spatula that comes with it before he scooped some out, capturing the texture of the product well. 

And that’s how the rest of the video plays out, the unusually deep, gentle tone of Johnny’s voice explaining how well each product works for his oily and acne-prone skin, lulling you into a relaxed state against your headboard. He keeps things short and simple, the video just barely passing three minutes and as promised, his face comes a lot closer to the screen, showing the faded scarring and smooth texture of what used to be his problem areas. Johnny ends the video with a sweet smile and says goodbye. The shorter video is edited to where he’s hardly talking, mostly just demoing your products, just the way you like things to be on the company’s page.

You did great, John. Thanks again for doing this last minute. You can come in at 10 am tomorrow since I had you working overtime today. Rest well. 

Johnny is at your desk with your morning cup of tea at eight in the morning, a bright smile on his face as he tells you good morning. 

You glare at him. “Why are you here?”

“Because it’s my job?” Johnny says, pretending like he doesn’t know what you’re referring to. You can read him well, though. You take the mug out of his hand before gesturing for him to take a seat in front of you. 

“You’re either being hard-headed as usual, or you’re anxious about your video being uploaded. Which is it?” 

And that wipes the bright smile off of his face. 

“I slept three hours last night,” he confesses. “I’m not used to this kind of exposure.”

You take a couple of sips of your tea and quietly observe him, thinking. 

“Would you prefer we didn’t post it, then?”

Your assistant looks at you as if you didn’t just speak one of the languages he’s fluent in. You just blink at him and continue drinking your beverage, waiting for him to either say yes or no in case you need to make other plans, again.

“You’d do that for me?” he finally says after a while of staring at you like you’re crazy. 

“Why wouldn’t I?” you ask slowly. “You’ve proven how far you’d go for me and I appreciate it, but I care about you as a person and anxiety is a bitch, so I wouldn’t want you to be panicking over Jaejoon’s mistake.”

The corner of Johnny’s lift curls at your continued pettiness, and maybe his heart does a thing at the fact that you care that much about him. It’s obvious to everyone that he is the closest to you out of all of your employees; being your assistant means you let your guard down a little with him. Along with the more serious side of your personality everyone else gets (especially recently), he sees your soft side. You’re not an overly strict boss, but Johnny gets to see you smile more and pout (he’d lose his job if he admitted to you how endearing your pout is to him). But even with the closer relationship the two of you have, Johnny would’ve never expected you to choose his stage fright over your baby; your company.

“I couldn’t ask you to do that,” Johnny declines with a shake of his head. “I’ll be okay, I promise. Thank you for considering my feelings, though.”

You shrug, not about to press him on the issue. “Alright. I need you to post the IGTV at 2 pm and tag our page in an appropriate caption. I’d suggest you turn your notifications off for a while because as soon as you post it, it’s getting posted to our story then I’m sure you’re gonna get flooded with DM’s.”

“Flooded?’” Johnny asks, head tilted. “I mean, all I’ll have to do is copy and paste the same message answering any questions they might have about the products. Easy.”

You’re the one to look at him like he’s stupid this time. You set your mug down, lean back in your swivel chair, and clasp your hands over your stomach. “You can’t be that dense.”

“‘Dense?’” he asks.

“Are you a parrot?” you tsk. “But yes, dense. You know good and well most of the messages will have nothing to do with my products and everything to do with you.”

Johnny has the audacity to still be confused after your explanation. 

“John, you realize you’re a good-looking guy with a likable personality, right?” 

It’s not that he doesn’t know that. Johnny’s always been a pretty confident guy, with both his looks and personality. His confusion doesn’t stem from being blind or too humble. It’s the fact you of all people are telling him this right now. 

“You think so?” he prompts, just to see how many compliments he can get out of you. This is a rare occasion.

“When you’re not being annoyingly happy-go-lucky and chill out, yes.” You reply. And now he’s pouting. That’s what he gets.

“I thought my cheerfulness brought joy to your days,” Johnny says with a dramatic hand on his heart, offended.

“What brings me joy is everything running smoothly and everyone doing their job,” you correct. He isn’t wrong, but you decide not to stroke his ego any more than you already have. And you’ve already said too much. “With that being said, you do everything I ask of you, and that brings me so much joy. You’re the perfect assistant, so don’t cry.”

“Is this your way of telling me to calm down?”

Your iPad buzzes against the wood of your desk and when you peek at it, you see it’s an email from Jaehyun with the subject: Today’s upload schedule.

“This is my way of telling you to get to work, honey.”

Johnny often finds himself slowly backing out of your office with his hands up in surrender, and he wouldn’t have it any other way. He loves the distinct differences between the two of you. He figures it’s why you work so well together and why he’s held this job position for over a year in comparison to the two assistants before him that both got fired before the six-month mark. Johnny’s also positive that you love his excessively positive nature (as Jaehyun has described Johnny’s personality before) somewhere deep down and that he brightens your day after dealing with idiots like Jaehyun. 

When your assistant is out of sight, you grab your iPad, respond to Jaehyun’s email, and find yourself rewatching today’s scheduled video. Maybe more than once. 

The video is up at 2 pm sharp and Johnny does as advised, turning his Instagram notifications off immediately. He even goes as far as taking his phone off of vibrate so he isn’t aware of any other notifications until he decides to look at his phone again. He’s got things to organize anyway, so the work he has to do takes his mind off of any anxiety within him. 

That is until you appear at the doorway of his office an hour later. This is a rare occurrence, so Johnny can’t be blamed for staring at you, and in the process, he appreciates the very fitted pantsuit you’re wearing. You took off the blazer sometime in between when Johnny left your office hours ago and now, and he thinks that the blush pink blouse compliments your complexion and red lips very well. But of course it does. Everything you wear compliments everything about you perfectly. 

Just one of the many observations Johnny has made in the past year.

“How do you feel?” you ask him. Your voice is always so calm and collected, even when you’re ripping someone to shreds because of idiocy. Johnny admittedly admires that about you.

“I’ve done everything under the sun to avoid my phone,” Johnny confesses with a weak laugh.

You nod. “Well, just know that I’ve had multiple companies and modeling agencies ask why I’ve been hiding you. So don’t be surprised if you have job opportunities waiting for you.” 

“Wow… this means I can finally quit,” Johnny hardly whispers with a victorious fist pump.

“I wish the hell you would,” you deadpan, breaking Johnny’s act and causing him to laugh loudly at the lack of expression paired with your response. “You’re mine unless there’s a tragic accident, God forbid, or you’re moving up in the ranks.”

“Promise?” 

“Promise,” you confirm, sending him a wink before turning on your heel and strutting back to your own office. Johnny licks his lips at the sight of the natural sway of your hips before shaking his head and getting back to working on the excel sheet staring at him.

“How is it that you all have the skills and training for the very simple tasks I ask you to complete, yet lack common sense and proper work ethic?” 

Everyone in the room, excluding Johnny, just looks up at you from their seats, pitiful expressions on their faces. Their eyes follow you as you slowly walk to the other side of the room. You’re trying to stay calm and be professional, so pacing around the room is your best bet. 

To Johnny, you look like you’re on a runway in slow motion, modeling the slim-fitting pencil skirt and red bottoms you’re adorning. Though still attentive to every word coming out of your mouth, Johnny lets himself get lost in each step you take because he’s not the one getting chewed out. 

Mark, one of the newest additions to the marketing department, leans into Johnny’s side to whisper into his ear. “How have you managed to not fuck up and be on the receiving end of her talks yet?”

You don’t hear anything, but you see whispering happening, and now is not the time for side conversations. Johnny doesn’t even have the chance to turn to Mark or tell him to shut up until the end of the meeting before you’re speaking again.

“Mark Lee,” you call as you make your way towards him, causing him to sit up straight. “Is there something you’d like to say?”

“No, ma’am,” he responds nervously. Johnny internally shakes his head at Mark not being able to think quickly and lie. “My apologies.”

“Is there anything anyone wants to say or am I just a narcissist who loves talking to hear my lovely voice? Should I sing?” you ask, standing next to Johnny at the end of the conference table, hand on your hip. “Y’all want a performance?”

Johnny bites the inside of his cheek to refrain from laughing. Your sarcasm only intensifies the unsettled looks on everyone’s face and they all side-eye Jungwoo, their savior from the last time they got chewed out as a whole. Jungwoo raises his hand before saying, “There’s nothing we can say to excuse our actions—or lack thereof, but we will get right on it and do our jobs correctly this time. You won’t have to repeat yourself again.”

Johnny is impressed at how quickly your features soften. The ready-to-fire-someone look melts away as you nod at Jungwoo’s promise. You do have a bit of a soft spot for the latter, though, so it makes sense. 

“I’ll take your word for it. You’re dismissed,” you announce, waving everyone off. 

The room is empty, save for you and your assistant, in mere seconds. 

“You’re going to give them nightmares,” Johnny chuckles, gathering your belongings before opening the door for you to exit the conference room. He laughs once more at your responding yawn.

“How? That was me on my best behavior,” you retort, your heels clicking loudly as you walk to the elevator. “And what was Lee whispering about?”

“Your employees are just amazed that I’ve kept you satisfied for so long.”

You walk into the elevator once the doors slide open and lean against the mirrored wall, arms crossed. Your eyes are squinted as you give Johnny a once over. He has done everything right since he completed his training. “You think you can keep me satisfied?” 

There’s a challenging tone in your voice that causes Johnny to lick his lips. “I’d never disappoint you.”

Your response is a nod of your head paired with a drawn-out hum, and then you walk out of the elevator to your office once you hit your floor, walking ahead of Johnny without another word. You laugh at yourself when you replay the short conversation in your mind at the feeling you got in your gut at his response. And then you’re scoffing because, once again, it’s Johnny.

Johnny… Over six feet, amicable, charming, handsome as all hell Johnny. The scene of him licking his lips and saying those four words in that promising, deep voice in the elevator flashes through your mind once you’re seated at your desk. Your fingernail taps against the wood as you roll your lips together, stuck in your head. The ironic conclusion you come to before getting back to work is that you’re working way too much and just lacking male attention because there’s no other plausible reason for your goofy-ass assistant to have been on your mind so much for the last couple of days. 

“Really?” Johnny asks when he walks in and sees you slumped over your desk.

Your eyes flutter open at his voice.

“I was just resting my eyes” you yawn, waving him off. 

“What work is there possibly left for you to do at this point?” The products go on the market tomorrow, meaning all the work that had to be done in preparation for the launch was completed before everyone left today (the marketing department got their shit together quickly because they know about your policy and how unforgiving you are when the deadline is right around the corner). The only thing left for your marketing team to do tomorrow is look over everything once more and then you’re free to sit back and wait for customers to buy the new products and idly watch over social media if you really wanted to. It frustrates Johnny that you always find something extra to do. 

“I was doing some last minute, um”— another yawn —“touches on the-”

“Well, that’s enough,” Johnny interrupts your explanation, walking around to your side of the desk and plucking the pen out of your hand.

 You just nod and lean back in your ridiculously big swivel chair, blinking up at him slowly, because he’s right. There’s literally nothing else for you to do and you have the most full coverage concealer under your eyes; you need to rest. 

“Am I driving you home tonight?” He asks as he packs your belongings into the massive purse on the box by your feet then places it on your desk so he doesn’t have to bend back down to retrieve it.

“Yeah, I don’t feel like moving,” you mumble, thankful you spent so much money on the chair you’re oh-so comfortable in. 

Johnny puts his hands out for you to grab, and once you do so, he pulls you up. You groan and lean forward into him to catch your balance after not being on your feet for many hours, but then Johnny’s hand on firm on the middle of your lower back, and the pressure makes you stay. He’s just helping you steady yourself, a position you’ve been in once or twice before because you like to push your limits (says both your therapist and your assistant), but he smells good and he’s warm; his presence is comforting. It always has been, which is why he’s made the perfect assistant for you. 

“Are you okay?” he asks, looking down at the top of your head that simply nods in response.

“Think I pushed my limit,” you admit, much to your assistant’s surprise. It’s not that you’re prideful, but you don’t exactly like showing weakness, especially in front of your employees.

Though tempted to just let you rest your head on his chest because he doesn’t mind the proximity at all and knows you’re somehow comfortable, Johnny makes sure you’re standing steadily by yourself so he can drape your coat over your shoulders. He grabs your purse and wraps an arm around your waist then guides you out of your office, all the way to the parking garage, saying goodbye to the confused cleaning staff on his way out. 

He presses the button on the handle of the passenger side’s door to unlock it, opens the door, then fits you inside of his car. Johnny leans over your body to buckle your seat belt, and when he’s back away, he catches you looking at him with a look he can’t quite decipher. 

“What’s up?”

You shake your head and blink slowly. “I just really appreciate you, John.”

Johnny just nods to save face and closes the door before making his way to the driver’s seat. He’s not quite sure how to feel or respond to the soft-spoken, sleepy side of you since it’s been months since the one other time you’ve been in a similar situation, and he wasn’t as smitten as he is now. 

You’re fighting your sleep because even though you trust Johnny, you want to be as aware during this trip to your house. It’s a hard feat, though. His car is big and comfortable and the hum of the engine is trying to lull you into a deep sleep. 

Johnny looks over at you after getting on the main road and notices your internal fight. 

“You can fall asleep, you know.”

“You might take my organs.” 

“I would’ve done that a long time ago if I wanted to,” Johnny humors you. His response brings a small smile to your face, and that keeps a smile on his own. 

“You have a really pretty smile, John.”

“Thank you,” Johnny says, figuring it’s just your exhaustion talking. 

“I’m almost jealous of how pretty your lips are,” you sigh, mouth not filtering your thoughts at this point of exhaustion (you’ve gotten 10 hours of sleep in the last week, but no one, especially not Johnny, needs to know that). You don’t care enough to try to “correct” yourself because the pretty curl of his lips gets even deeper.

“Really?” Johnny asks, trying his luck again because he’s sure tonight isn’t like the other day in your office. “You think my lips are pretty?”

You hum and cuddle into his seat even more. After staring at his profile a while longer, you tell him, “I think you’re pretty.”

That makes him laugh again, taken aback at the string of compliments coming out of your mouth towards him of all people. It’s not that you’re mean or don’t applaud him for his great work, but this is a very different side of you that he’s seeing. He likes it.

“That’s a first, but I’ll take it,” he says, taking a moment to look at you again before focusing on the road again. “Thank you.”

“Are you used to hearing ‘handsome?’ ‘Fine?’ ‘Sexy?’” You notice how Johnny’s brows lift. “Too far?”

He shakes his head. “No, you’re good. I like you when you’re nice.”

“You like me regardless,” you say with a sassy scoff, pretending to flip your hair even though it’s slicked back in a low bun, the same as every workday.

Johnny nods slowly, contemplating if he should humor you or just laugh you off. It literally takes him 0.5 seconds to go with the former option because he’s been waiting for the day the two of you step out of professional talk and get into something more personal, specifically between the two of you. “You got me there. I mean, what isn’t there to like?”

Your eyes squint as you analyze him and process his words. There’s a subtle but still very noticeable shift in the air after his question, and while you’re sure it’s your fault for letting your exhaustion let you feel comfortable enough to open your mouth and start spewing out nice things to your assistant, his response is enough to keep it up. It also doesn't help that this is a far more intimate setting than work. 

“Be careful, you keep saying things like that and I’ll think you have a crush on me,” you tease him, chuckling at the snort he responds with. 

Before Johnny snitches on himself, he flips the script. “Says the one staring at my lips long enough to deem them ‘pretty’ and calling me pretty, of all things.” 

“Well,” you start as your gaze goes right back to his mouth at the mention of it. “It would be unprofessional of me to tell you that I think you’re fine as hell, so,” you shrug.

You and Johnny have always had a bit of banter between the two of you, and while this topic isn’t something that’s been covered before, it’s hard to really care when you feel comfortable enough to cross that line right now. If he hadn’t been playing along, you wouldn’t have said anything more than the simple compliment from earlier, but with the reciprocity, the logical voice within gets pushed away. Exhaustion isn’t much of an excuse at this point because that high from tiredness has passed. 

The timing of the traffic light turning red is a little too perfect. Johnny takes the opportunity to look at you again, and something lights up in his chest when he catches how your eyes travel up from his mouth to look into his own eyes at his attention. 

“It would be unprofessional,” he agrees with another nod of his head. “But I can’t say the feeling isn’t mutual.”

You hum and nod. “Good to know.”

“You must not be sleeping well for you to be throwing out compliments like that.” Johnny leans onto the middle counsel.

“I’m not saying anything I haven’t thought of for a while.” You tell him after a beat, choosing to reply honestly since you’re already here. Johnny quirks a brow to prompt you to elaborate, and you do so, mirroring his position and propping your chin in your hand. His face is a lot closer now, but you keep your eyes on his own orbs to avoid losing focus. “I hired you because of your experience and skill set, but I knew it wouldn’t hurt to have some eye-candy around me. Pretty privilege and all,” you wave a nonchalant hand. “You were perfect until you opened your mouth.”

“You can never be nice to me for long, can you?” he snorts.

“You’re perfect tonight, though,” you add on, specifically for the quirk of Johnny’s mouth that comes from the praise. Yeah, you failed the challenge. 

“How so?” Johnny questions, quickly checking to see if the light has changed yet. It hasn’t, and for once in his life he’s grateful for a long light. He feels good about where this conversation could possibly get him after a year of silently admiring you, so good that he not-so-subtly gets even closer, definitely in your bubble, but nothing too crazy.

“You’re calm and collected and taking care of me,” you admit. The silent deep breath you take to calm yourself grants you access to the scent of Johnny’s cologne again, and your mind is so close to deciding that logic is unnecessary. A tiny voice in the back of your mind has been trying to get your attention and steer you in the opposite direction of the one you’ve decided to take, with how you tilt your head up to get just a little closer to him.

“You like being taken care of?”

“I love it,” you confess, and Johnny takes the chance to tuck a stray hair behind your ear as he hums, content with your response. Definitely an excuse to test the waters and see how far he can go and how willing you are to really cross this line. You turn your face into his hand so he cups your jaw, but then there’s a horn sounding behind you because the light is green, and Johnny begrudgingly has to pay attention to the road. You blink, the trance you found yourself in with him so close but so far away dissipating, the situation becoming a lot more real now that he’s out of your space. You slump back into your seat and look out of the window, that voice becoming louder and grounding you as you take another deep breath. “But allowing myself to be vulnerable with someone like that? Yikes.”

He knows your defense mechanism is trying to kick in, but he’s not having it.

“Aside from me?” 

You hum. “Not quite…” 

You set yourself up. From that moment in the elevator to now, you’ve been digging your own grave, and Johnny has done nothing but assist you, encourage you to dig deeper. You’re not sleepy anymore, there’s no more foggy brain from earlier when he found you asleep in the office. Just desire you’ve done a grand job of ignoring up until the last few days. But unfortunately, you have to remind yourself you’ve been ignoring it for a reason.

Your assistant almost doesn’t say anything because he loves his job and you clearly switched the direction of the conversation for a reason, but so much (yet so little) has already been said during your time in the car and you’ve already said enough to get the gears in his head turning. 

“So you mean a different type of care?”Johnny asks. He pulls into your driveway and parks. He wants to get back to the space the two of you were at when stopped at that light, but you’re already unbuckling your seat belt and grabbing your purse, signifying that the moment is long gone. That doesn’t stop him from trying, though. “Do you need me to walk you in?”

“I think I’ve got it now, thanks.” You need to get inside and get some sleep. Are you running right now? Of course. You’re a responsible person and the most responsible thing for you to do as the woman that signs his paychecks, is to get the fuck away from him before he persuades you, because you both know it’s possible.

“Let me rephrase that:” he licks his pretty lips and your fist balls up around your purse’s straps. “Do you want me to walk you in? I know you didn’t need me to do most of what I’ve done tonight, but you let me because you wanted me to.” His ability to read you so well is both a blessing and a curse. “Now would you like for me to continue taking care of you tonight or not?” 

You do. You absolutely do. You’re tempted to say yes in the case you don’t end up alone tonight, but you know it’s not a good idea. And you’re sure the atmosphere of this car ride will disappear by the time you wake up. At least that’s what you tell yourself because you know, ethics.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” you tell Johnny, opening the door and stepping out. “Thanks for the ride. Drive safe.”

Johnny watches you walk up to your door, unlock it, then disappear into your house. He lets out a deep sigh before backing out of your driveway and driving home.

Tea, fruit slices, and avocado toast are set down in front of you the moment you walk behind your desk. 

“Good morning,” Johnny greets you calmly. “Your eleven o’clock meeting has been pushed back thirty minutes, so I’d suggest using the opportunity to get out of the building and get some fresh air. You know, get away from electronics and people to recharge.”

That’s exactly what you’ll do. You’re going to be monitoring the Instagram engagement and website sales for a while, even though you pay people to be on top of numbers, so a break will definitely be needed. 

“I love your brain, you know that?” you ask, looking up at him once your jacket and bag are off of your body, meeting his eye. The corner of Johnny’s mouth twitches. 

“I told you I’d never disappoint you.”

“And I’m holding you to that.” You ignore the fact that there’s definitely another meaning behind his words. You can’t say the tension that last night’s conversation produced has gone away completely, but it’s weak enough for you to ignore it and stick to the amicable atmosphere the two of you have built for the last year plus.

“Would it be alright if I accompanied you during your walk?” Johnny prompts after a moment of him just standing there, pursing his lips together to refrain himself from grinning at you. “There’s something I’d like to run by you because I trust your opinion as my boss and my friend.”

“We’re friends?” you joke, settling into your seat.

“Last time I checked,” he responds, unfazed. “We could be even closer if you let yourself be vulnerable with me.” 

And there it is.

“John,” you say after a brief pause. He’s got his hands in his pockets, face mostly void of emotion. Johnny doesn’t want things to go back to normal, and he’s decided to let you know in the most subtle, yet obvious way. Why ignore the feeling when it’s clearly mutual? 

“Yes, boss?”

“You can leave now.”

The grin on the male’s face falters. He examines you to see just how serious you are, and he knows this isn’t one of your playful banter moments. He tries to call your name, either to ease the situation and tell you it was just a bad joke or to apologize, but you just remove your attention from him and get on your iPad. 

And when he’s out of the room, the door closed behind him, you let out a frustrated sigh. Up until you fell asleep, if you weren’t thinking about your launch, you were thinking about him. If you weren’t thinking about the numbers from your last launch and the possibility of exceeding them, you were thinking of the way you felt and the words he said while you were in that intimate bubble before the horn honked at him. You had to take a couple melatonin gummies to shut your mind up and knock out. The sleep was amazing, the best you’d had in a while, but then when you were conscious again, Johnny was back.

You could have done without stepping into uncharted territory last night. To him, it may not seem as deep as you’re making it out to be, but there’s too much on the line for you. Your professionalism. Your pride. Your job, quite possibly. His job. You could pay him off if you decided to fire him, but you don’t want to deal with bribes making you feel like a shitty person. You don’t want a new assistant. You want Johnny.

At that very last thought, you pick up the phone and call Jaehyun to have him run the plan by you one more time. He thinks it’s because of his fuck up from before, and you just let him think that. 

Thankfully, Johnny is out of your way until later in the night. He didn’t try to accompany you on your walk, but he has no choice but to be here at the company outing taking place to celebrate your products selling out within 4 hours. 

All shots are on you, so your employees are taking advantage of this, recording  as everyone clinks their shot glasses together and downs the painful alcohol down. You’re two shots in and you mentally note that three is your limit for tonight. Maybe four. You’re already a bit of a lightweight, and there’s no way in hell you’re going to make a fool of yourself in front of your employees. Regardless, you’re having a pretty good time. As a gift, your best friend rented out the bar, so it’s empty save for your large group, and Joohyun’s presence is a godsend. She’s being friendly enough to your employees and for the most part she hasn’t left your side, being the comfort she doesn’t realize you need. 

“Congrats again, babe,” she says excitedly to you, pushing another shot in front of you as she scoots into the seat next to you. “Can we take that vacation in Bora Bora now that you’re free and even richer?” Her teasing smile makes you crack one of your own and sigh.

“You know that trip is for August. Be patient, Bae.”

She rolls her eyes but her expression doesn’t falter. Her gaze wanders a bit as she sips from her mixed drink and then she’s looking at you expectantly. You raise a brow to prompt her.

“How is it that all of your employees are hot as fuck?” she asks bluntly. “Even the women.”

You take a glance around like you don’t remember what everyone looks like. “I mean, I guess.”

“Especially a certain assistant.”

“Go for it,” you tell her, nodding in his direction. The said male is at the bar ordering something with his arm draped over Jaehyun’s shoulders, the two of them laughing about whatever the latter just said. 

“You know that’s not why I said that,” Joohyun scoffs, swatting at your arm. You may have mentioned to her a while ago that your assistant is very nice on the eyes and you sometimes enjoy watching him as he does his job. “Plus, Jaehyun’s more my type.”

You shrug. “I’m sure they’d be down for a threesome.”

Your best friend hits you once again. “What’s with your mood? You’re not acting like someone who just sold out in only a few hours.” 

Before she decided to bring a certain assistant up, you were doing pretty well. You’d been able to not look at him for too long or even have to speak to him much aside from a greeting and his congratulations before he was by Jaehyun’s side and Joohyun was by yours. But now, with him being mentioned, your eyes are having a hard time pulling away from his figure. His tie is loosened and the top few buttons of his shirt are undone. His sleeves are rolled up right under his elbows and show off the tattoo on his arm. 

You rip your eyes off of him and down your shot. Yeah, you’re thinking four.

Joohyun’s incredulous laugh brings your attention back to her. “You didn’t.”

“What?”

She leans into your side to whisper, “You’re in a mood because of Johnny?”

You side-eye her because you don’t like how quickly she read you, and her smile grows wide. 

“Oh, my—you slept with Johnny?!” she continues to whisper-yell.

“No,” you hiss. “I did not. But I could have and that’s the issue.”

“Not seeing the issue?” She’s always been the little devil on your left shoulder. “The only reason I brought him up is because I’ve noticed how often you have his attention when you’re not even in the same area. And I know the difference between a look of concern and a look of want. He’s got a good ratio of both going on.”

“Okay, Miss Couple’s Therapist,” you mutter. “You ever heard of conflict of interest?”

And that shuts her up. Only for a few seconds, though.

“All I’m saying is I know you’ve thought about it… and you’re probably thinking about it now,” she giggles, making it hard for you to keep glaring at her. “I’m just trying to help you understand that it wouldn’t be a bad thing if there is a mutual understanding between the two of you on what flies and what cannot and shall not happen regarding the matter. You’re both consenting adults and it’s obvious he’d be on his knees for you with the snap of a finger.”

You decide against telling her about last night’s situation nor do you let her know you’re considering her words. That you’ve been considering the whole thing for days. 

You change the subject instead, asking her about how her latest trip overseas went.

It lasts for only so long when Johnny and Jaehyun make their way over to your table. 

They greet the two of you and you give a nod, choosing now to be the perfect time to check your notifications, while Joohyun says, “Hey guys.”

“Why are you checking your phone when you should be enjoying your time?” Johnny asks right by your ear, his voice lacking excitement but instead low enough to almost make your thumb falter as you scroll. “Get off your phone and celebrate, please?”

You make the mistake of looking up. He’s too close to your face to use the music playing through the speakers in the bar as an excuse. His eyes don’t have their usual playful glint in them. They look down at you with a purpose, and you’re kind of embarrassed at how fast you comply with his request. You drop the device into your purse and zip it up for extra measures.

“Thank you,” he smiles. “I got this for you two, by the way.”

Johnny slides a plate of your favorite wings on the table.

“Aw thank you, Johnny,” Joohyun coos, shooting you an annoyingly smug glance. “Are you gonna sit with us?”

“Is that okay with you, boss?” Jaehyun asks after sharing a look with his friend.

“Have at it,” you smile tightly, gesturing to the seats across from you. While they make themselves comfortable, you steal your best friend’s shot and actively ignore the way she looks at you from the corner of her eye.

Joohyun and Jaehyun fall into conversation easily after she compliments the watch he’s wearing. You nibble on some celery, actively ignoring how Johnny’s still too close. He subtly squeezes your knee to get your attention, and when he’s got it, he tilts his head in the direction of the bar. 

“I drank enough,” you tell him with a shake of your head.

“It’s not about a drink. I would like to speak to you alone, please,” Johnny explains in a whisper. A tiny voice in your mind says hell no because of what Joohyun has put in your head, but the rational voice reminds you that he is your assistant and you can’t avoid him forever. 

You tell your best friend that you’re gonna get a drink and that you’ll be back, and when she notices Johnny getting up with you she nods with a whisper of a smirk on her lips all without breaking the conversation she’s having. 

“What’s up?” you ask once seated on a barstool, at least a few seats away from everyone else.

“I’m sorry about earlier. I was trying to make light of the situation and I took it too far. As for last night, it was wrong of me to make a proposition like, so I want to apologize for that, as well.”

You nod as he speaks, letting his words process in your brain. 

“I spoke out of line last night and gave you an opening, so that part was on me. I apologize and I hope we can move forward from it. Thank you for your apology.” You try to get up and make your way back to your table quickly, but Johnny gently grabs your hand until he knows you’ll stay in your seat. 

For a moment he wanted to just apologize so you can stop being distant with him and he can stop purposely avoiding you for your space, but your response rubs him the wrong way and now he doesn’t really want to drop it. He wants to talk about it because the topic clearly came up for a reason last night and he’s tired of denying how he feels towards you, especially now that he knows he’s not alone after a while of thinking there was no way in hell his little crush would even get him this far. 

“Can you not shut me out right now?”

You really don’t like his ability to see through you.

“I accepted your apology and gave you the one you deserved... how am I shutting you out?” you bullshit him anyway.

“I’m not gonna pretend that what happened last night didn’t happen. I can’t,” Johnny tells you honestly. “Can I speak to you as a friend instead of your employee for a moment?”

“I guess,” you shrug.

“As your friend, what I say cannot be held against me as your assistant.”

“Whatever, John. Go ahead.” 

“I want you,” he confesses, and there’s really no going back from here. “I am very attracted to you and when you spoke about wanting to be vulnerable and taken care of last night it only made me want you more. And if there’s anyone you can let your guard down with and that will take great care of you, it’s me, and you know this.”

All you can do is stare at him for a while. If you hadn’t had that conversation with Joohyun a while ago you would not still be in this seat, letting him know you’re truly considering his proposition. The dip in your gut at his confession confirms your feelings, but your brain and your body conflict. 

Can you separate business from pleasure in this instance? 

If you allow your desires to become reality and it’s nothing like what you imagined, you’d never be able to look at him the same, no matter how good he is at his job. You’d either have to fire him or become so distant he’d want to quit. Would a bribe really have to be offered for the well-being of your precious company? The thought alone rubs you the wrong way.

But if you’re being honest with yourself, you just know it wouldn’t be a bad experience because it’s Johnny. He’s calculated and good at anything that gets thrown at him. You truly believe him when he says he’d never disappoint you. But how will you go about seeing him five days a week without seeing him in a different light? You’re professional but there would definitely be a change in your dynamic.

“I adore you as my assistant, John,” you finally speak up after too long. “And I do consider you a friend. I just don’t want to compromise our relationship over lust.”

“It’s not just lust, though,” Johnny states. “I’m not in love with you or anything but I care about you and want to take care of you the way we both know you need and deserve.”

He’s saying all of the right things and it’s almost as if the universe is rubbing him in your face. Your control is slipping and you don’t like it. You would love to be taken care of. You crave it. Running a business right before the age of thirty comes with so much stress and bullshit and you haven’t been taken care of in years, at least not properly. You’re content with being single because you give yourself everything you need and you love having your own space, but it does get lonely sometimes. And you can’t do everything yourself, at least not to the extent you need. Your eyes scan down from his face to his hands and your resolve gets a little weaker. 

“I’m not going to push you, okay? I just had to let you know that I’m here to help you in many more ways than in the office and that if anything were to ever happen, my lips are sealed. I’d even sign a damn contract if that meant I could have you for just one whole day.”

“A whole day?” you ask before you can stop your curiosity from being known. 

“I can’t elaborate on that. I can talk to you as a friend all I want but I know that too much detail can fuck up my job if you’re not down and I’m perfectly content with my job right now.”

He’s so vague, yet he’s said just the right amount. It’s easy to imagine what exactly could be in store if you release your inhibitions and just agree, but it’s not that easy. And Johnny understands that.

“Just think about it, alright?” He requests, and you nod slowly. “What drink would you like?”

“I’ve already had four shots—”

“No one said it had to be alcoholic,” Johnny laughs. 

“Hello?” Johnny’s morning voice grumbles. 

“Okay.”

It’s quiet on the other end of the line for a while as Johnny wakes up and decodes your single word. When he understands, his smile can be heard through his next words.

“Would you prefer I go to you or you come here?”

“I’ll go to you.”

“How does noon sound?”

“Good,” you nod, even though he can’t see the movement.

“Alright. There’s a couple of questions I have before you come over, though,” he tells you, his voice suddenly a lot more serious than it was before.

“Okay, go ahead,” you sigh, curling into a ball on your sofa. 

“Do you trust me?”

“I do.” Of course you trust him. Johnny smiles at how quick your answer. “You know that.”

“Trusting me with your work and trusting me with your mind and body are completely different things,” he tells you matter-of-factly. “But yes, I did know. I just needed to ask.”

“I clearly trust you enough to be hours away from going to your place without thinking you’re gonna exploit or blackmail me.”

“And I appreciate it. As I said, I’ll sign a contract if you’re still in your head about it.” At the dismissive response you give him, he continues with his questions. “We’re not gonna be weird about this before, during, and especially after everything, right?”

“No, I won’t be weird,” you chuckle, knowing his ‘we’ translates to ‘you.’ “It would’ve took me way longer to give you an answer if I was still gonna be weird or standoffish.”

“What made you change your mind so quickly?”

You blink at the tree on the other side of your window blankly. It took less than a day to give him a response, and while he may have popped up in your dream last night, Joohyun was right. You want him and he’s not shy about letting you know how much he wants you in return, so why play this game of tiptoeing and faux unclarity?

“You’re asking too many questions now,” you deadpan. “I’ll see you later.”

The last thing you hear before you hang up is Johnny laughing quietly to himself, sounding endeared.

You’ve always been punctual, so when you knock on his door, it’s twelve on the dot. And Johnny was expecting this, with it only taking him a couple of seconds to unlock and open the door for you. 

“Hey,” he greets you with a smile and you immediately take in his appearance, having never been around Johnny in anything but formal wear. You take in how he looks in the comfort of his own home, his brown hair is parted down the middle in comparison to how he always has it pushed back, and his fitted white tee shirt and joggers are a stark difference from the button-downs and slacks he usually adorns around you. He looks good either way, you note. 

“Hey.” 

You walk past him into his home and take your shoes off, and while pleasantries are exchanged, it’s Johnny’s turn to give you elevator eyes. The grey color of your athletic wear draws attention to the curve of your ass and hips. Your hair isn’t in its signature style, but out and flowing about freely. When you turn back around to face him he notices you don’t have your typical red lipstick on, just a clear sheen covering your lips. He didn’t think you could look any better, but here he is, being proven wrong. 

You’re guided down a hallway and into his room, and the first thing you notice is a cute stuffed animal on his dresser. One you remember buying him for his birthday because that was his only request, seeing that it was limited edition.

“I still can’t believe you wanted this of all things,” you laugh fondly, picking it up and examining it.

“You gave me a budget and this fit in it,” Johnny shrugs, coming up behind you. His chest molds into your back naturally, causing you to look up from the plushie and up at him through the mirror in front of you. “There was no way in hell I was coming out of pocket for that myself when you were willing to spend big bucks on me.”

You relax into his chest, the vibration against your back a very pleasant feeling. “Touché.”

The last few days of building sexual frustration did nothing to prepare you for the suffocating blanket of tension that envelopes you once Johnny lifts your head up to the side and presses one of the gentlest kisses to your lips. Followed by another chaste one, and another until you find yourself chasing his lips.

“Feel free to bite into it when it becomes too much for you,” Johnny graciously offers in a whisper that tickles your lips.

You scoff, amused by his confidence. 

“I’m a grown ass woman,” you remind him. “I promise you there’s nothing I couldn’t handle.”

“And I’m gonna hold you to that.” He nods, using your own words against you. You’re turned around by his hands on your hips until you’re facing him. A moment of silent eye contact translate to him challenging you before his pretty, soft lips slowly slide in time with yours. 

The longer he kisses you, the more your body melts into his. You find yourself being pulled forward, him walking backwards. The kiss interrupted when he sits down at the foot of his bed, but then you’re pulled onto his lap, straddling him to resume it. A hand on the side of his face prompts him to deepen the kiss, and your mouth instantly opens when you feel his tongue brush against your bottom lip, the wet muscle minty when it touches your own and you curl yours around it to get an even better taste. 

Your hands find his hair as his own grip your ass, pulling a muffled whimper out of you. And then you’re flipped onto your back, legs falling apart to give Johnny freedom to stand. He swiftly takes his shirt off and then he’s interrupted by your palms glide up his abdomen. You’ve never felt small around practically anyone in your adult years, but with how he hovers over you, you feel tiny. You know he and Jaehyun have been going to the gym frequently, but at this angle, you can really appreciate just how big and broad he is.

Originally, you figured you’d give him the reign to do whatever he wanted and you’d bask in being a pillow princess for once in your life, but in the position you’ve found yourself in, with his print in your face, you drag your hands back south and tug his waistband down. 

Johnny just watches you silently until he understands you’re doing more than just assisting him with stripping. Your hand grabs hold of his semi (your mouth waters at how hung he is and you briefly wonder how you never noticed before), his sweatpants forgotten halfway down his thighs. The way your eyes have tunnel vision and you lick your lips tells him your plan. “You wanna suck my dick?” he asks anyway, making sure he accessed this correctly. 

Your eyes fly up to meet his gaze. “Yeah. You want me to?”

“You think I’d ever say no to you?”

His response goes straight in between your legs, so you focus your attention back on his dick, which has grown some during the time of your small interaction, and you might be a little more excited about this than you initially thought you’d be. 

You let spit fall from your mouth onto his tip, then spread it down with your hand. You flick your wrist up and down a few times and lean forward, licking a broad stripe up his shaft. At the deep exhale he releases, you glance up at him through your lashes, and the sight of him with his jaw tightened in anticipation makes you want to give him so much more, so you suck the tip into your mouth. 

Fingers move your hair behind your ear for you and if you still had any inhibitions at this point, they’re lost now. Your head bobs back and forth slowly as you continue to look him in his eyes; it’s hard to look anywhere else when you’ve never been looked at so intensely in this position. You gather spit on the tip of your tongue and spread it across his head, circling the wet muscle around it until he hums and you need to feel the weight of him back inside. 

“Tap my leg, okay?”

You furrow your brows at his words, but your silent question is answered when there’s a hand on the back of your head and the tip of his dick hits the back of your throat lightly as if in warning before his hips pull back then he’s back in your throat. Your hands come up to his thighs as he sets a slow pace to fuck your face, and when his head falls back the moment he realizes he can go as far as he wants, you close your eyes and prepare for the onslaught you know you’re about to take.

Johnny’s hips instantly pick up speed and roughness, and while he’s still in control of himself, he loses a bit of sanity. After a year of silent pining and thinking this would never happen, he’s fucking his boss's face, and of course, of fucking course you don’t have a gag reflex. 

You stick your tongue out flat to lick at the bottom of his shaft as he does the rest of the work and the feeling of spit bubbling out the sides of your mouth and making its way down your chin digs your fingers into his skin since you can’t clench your thighs together. Your hair is gathered for extra leverage, and the pull of your scalp is such a delicious feeling you moan helplessly just when your nose comes in contact with trimmed hairs. 

“Shit,” he hisses, picking his head back up to watch as he slows back down but thrusts in rougher. You clearly enjoy being used like this, spit traveling down your chin to the point of landing on your jacket and darkening the material. You’re a mess in the best possible way, and this is an image that will haunt his memory for a very long time. 

More of his resolve crumbles at the feeling of your hands curling around to his butt to press him even closer into you, even further down your throat. You haven’t even been touched, barely kissed, but you’re lightheaded and extremely aroused. While he contemplates if he should cum down your throat or wait until he’s buried in your pussy, you’re silently hoping he lets you taste him soon. 

Johnny drags his dick out of your mouth at an extremely slow pace, and how you wrap your lips around him and open your hooded, darkened eyes to look at him again shoots a shiver of pleasure up his spine. 

“Never would’ve thought,” he says around an amused exhale.

“Hm?” you prompt, releasing him with a loud pop. 

“Nothing.” He shakes his head. He grips his dick with his free hand and taps the tip on your awaiting tongue, amused and extremely turned on. Smearing fluids over your tongue and lips, he softly demands: “Play with your pussy for me.”

The smile you give him is a concoction of wicked and endearing. He releases your hair as you manage to wiggle out of your leggings. You soaked through your lace and leggings, you both notice, and Johnny stops you with a disapproving hum when you make a move to remove your panties as well. You squint, he laughs and shakes his head. 

“Over your panties.” You roll your eyes but listen nonetheless, slipping your hand in between your thighs. The material is extremely wet to the touch, and the slickness helps with making the friction pleasurable when your fingertips find your clit and begin rubbing circles. “Slowly.”

Johnny finds your huff of frustration adorable.

The tip of his dick taps your mouth again to gain your attention. You suck spit up to the front of your mouth, then your mouth is stretched wide once again, hand back in your hair. 

Having your throat fucked with the additional pleasure on your clit, even with the slow pace you’re forced to go at, has you practically whining, the sound going in and out as he goes in and out your mouth. That vibration only spurs Johnny to grip your locks tighter and thrust in deeper to feel as much as your mouth and throat offer. 

“You were made for this, huh?” 

“Mhm,” you affirm, eyes rolling back at the way he pulls your hair to tip your head back and get a different, much better angle. 

Johnny honestly didn’t expect you to submit so easily to him. The visual of your face all messy, eyes hardly opened to look into his eyes and hair out of place while touching yourself sparks that feeling in his lower abdomen.

 “You want me to cum in your mouth?” You hum again and even with a mouth full of dick you manage to smile. You’re getting what you wanted. “Don’t swallow it until I tell you to.”

It takes a few more strokes for Johnny to fulfill your wish. The moment his head falls back again you use your free hand to caress his balls, and that does it. He leaves the tip in so that his cum pools onto your tongue and strokes every drop out. The groan he lets out causes you to unintentionally swipe at your clit faster, but he’s distracted anyway.

“Let me see,” Johnny says after collecting himself and stepping back. You straighten your head so none slides down your throat and open your mouth wider for his inspection. He smiles in approval, wishing he could take a picture of the sight before him. “Swallow.”

You lick your lips and wipe away all the spit that traveled outside of your mouth with the sleeve of your jacket after doing so.

Johnny completely removes his pants before he leans down to kiss you again. His tongue languidly licks against the seam of your mouth for an entrance that you grant instantly. While it curls around your own and he gets a taste of himself, Johnny’s hand guides you to bend one leg and he caresses your outer thigh.

“Good?” Johnny asks for extra measure, lips just barely dragging across your cheek to press opened mouth kisses on your jaw. Your head automatically tilts to the opposite side to give him more real estate. You hum, your mouth a bit preoccupied with how your teeth have trapped your bottom lip. 

Your breath stutters at the gentle scrape of his teeth along the length of your neck after he unzips the high neck of your top to expose more skin. Whichever scent you chose to put on today has Johnny latched onto your neck for a while, kissing, licking, nibbling the skin to the point of your breath coming out a lot louder than before and the seat on your underwear getting uncomfortably wetter. You’re throbbing at this point and not being touched enough, so you claw at his sides and call his name quietly.

Johnny eventually spreads your legs more and maneuvers himself in between them. Both of your legs bend at the knee to accommodate his large build in the middle of them, and the hand that isn’t keeping himself propped up by your head kneads your hip. 

“You know how long I’ve been wanting to get you like this?”

“How long?” you prompt, voice hardly above a whisper.

“Since the day you gave me a tour of the building,” he admits and slowly rises until he’s up on his knees. 

“That’s a long time,” you respond lamely, hardly caring when your pussy is practically screaming at you to be touched. He raises a brow, and when he looks back up at your face, your lip is back in between your teeth. 

If he doesn’t touch you soon you might explode.

“I’ve wanted this for a while, too,” you decide to confess, hoping it gets you somewhere. And it does. It’s almost like you’re rewarded for it by Johnny walking back on his knees until he’s far enough to settle on his stomach, face barely inches away from the apex of your thighs. He subconsciously licks his lips at the smell of you. He’s been wanting to taste you for so long now, but he refrains himself because he sees how you’re affected by the lack of attention to your heat. He promised he’d take care of you and that’s exactly what he’s going to do. But not before breaking you. 

“Wish you would’ve told me sooner,” he eventually tells you after having you hold your breath for way too long.

“You know I couldn’t.” The way Johnny looks at you, attentive to every word that comes out of your mouth while he smoothly scoops your legs over his shoulders to wrap his arms around your thighs, makes you continue speaking. “Seems like everything fell into place, though.”

Johnny nods, rests his head on one of your thighs, and looks up at you, brown eyes still watching your mouth intently, as he unhooks one of his arms to push your right leg further to the side. His fingers are soon on your center, gliding up and down your slit, bumping into your clit with each pass. 

“I guess it did.”

Before you can reply, he adds more pressure behind his touch, and your hips just barely lift to get even more. The smile you get in return is attractive as all hell but annoying. He knows exactly what he’s doing to you or he’s just really enjoying himself. Either way, you’re getting more impatient by the second, if the way your hips rise to grind your core against his fingers again says anything. 

“Stay still for me, okay?” You almost pout because you need more, but you promised to give him total control of the situation and you’ve done well thus far, so you press your ass back into his comforter. “There you go.”

Your pussy clenches around nothing.

The light pressure on your clit is soon gone and then the zipper of your jacket gets dragged down all the way. “Take this off for me.”

Sitting up, you do as told. You toss it where your leggings had been dropped and now you’re presented in front of the awe-struck brunet in just your matching set of underwear. You figured you’d wear something nice under your clothes, both for Johnny’s pleasure and for your confidence, and with how Johnny’s eyes settle on the way your breasts are trying to burst out of your snug lacy bra, you know you chose well.

A hand slides up your torso to grab one of your breasts and squeeze it. Somewhere in the midst of him fondling your chest and pressing teasing, yet promising kisses on your inner thighs your eyes drift shut again as you bask in the pleasure. One of your own hands comes up from your side to slide under the cup of your unoccupied tit and pull at your nipple. 

The tip of Johnny’s tongue drags dangerously close to your annoying-still-clothed heat and your patience is shot. 

“John…”

“Yes?” 

“I need more.”

He has the audacity to hum and give your clit a kitten lick. “Do you?”

You huff, stuck between just pushing his face into your pussy or doing what he asks of you, but you promised, so you suck in a breath and give him what he wants.

“John,” you say again, almost whining. 

He doesn’t say anything, just continues to look at you expectantly. And when too much time goes by, it somehow hits you what he wants from you and you groan quietly to yourself.

“Please.”

“That was very convincing,” Johnny snorts. His nose glides across the inside of your thigh like he’s got all the time in the world. It tickles in the best way, but it’s nothing but teasing and you’ve been stimulated enough that if you go more than a couple of seconds more without his mouth giving you direct pleasure, you’ll go insane. So with a great amount of willpower, you try again.

“Johnny,” you whine, giving him your best pout. Addressing him so informally feels foreign, but the way his eyes light up encourages you to keep going.“Please?”

And of course a big smile takes up half of his face and you mentally prepare yourself for what’s next to come. He peels your panties off, both of you watching the line of slick that stretches then breaks in the process, and when you spread your legs even more for him, his mouth salivates. 

Johnny makes sure you’re looking into his eyes as his tongue licks a wide stripe from your entrance to your clit. He wants to be smug at the gasp you let out, but the taste of you shuts his ego up quickly. 

You squeak when you’re suddenly flipped onto your stomach and your ass is lifted up into the air. With yet another broad lick to coat his taste buds with your essence, Johnny buries his face in your pussy. He uses the tip of his tongue to collect the puddle of wetness you’ve produced and smears it over your clit, soon digging  inside to directly stimulate the bundle of nerves. 

Johnny’s lips close around your clit and he sucks on it softly. As the moments pass he gradually sucks harder to the point of you not being able to fight the way your eyes flutter shut and hips push back. He’s nice about the movement, just grabbing your hips to keep you still, soon caressing and kneading. 

“Mm, that feels good,” you compliment. At that very moment, Johnny decides to roll his tongue in up and down motions and apply more pressure behind his hands. “Fuck, that feels so good.”

He prompts you with a hum of his own. 

With how your moans start to get louder and your breath gets quicker and harder, not to mention the tingles you feel building in intensity, you know you’re already close. It’s a beautiful yet frustrating feeling because you don’t want this to end so soon after waiting so long. But you also want him inside of you so bad now.

Johnny comes back up to circle your entrance, and then he goes even higher.

“Are you— fuck,” you groan deeply. 

Your hands grip the pillow your face is buried in and your eyes have found the back of your head again. Johnny just hums at the way you react, the octave of your voice as you let out your sounds of pleasure go straight to his dick. His tongue licks filthily up and down, not leaving an inch untouched nor missing a drop of your juice. His fingers rub your entrance until he slides one in. One becomes two after a few pumps, then his thumb presses into your clit and your back is arched almost uncomfortably.

“Johnny,” you whine again, breath hiccuped. 

“Yes?” he prompts, lifting his head and looking up to see your face peaking around your body, smushed into his pillow still. 

“I wanna cum,” you tell him. It feels too good now. “Fuck, I need to come, Johnny.”

“Then cum for me.” His voice is so gentle yet commanding as his digits speed up. He tongues the skin between your holes sloppily and you try to curl into yourself, your mouth wide opened with no sound coming out of it, your walls clenching madly around the fingers inside of you, and your grip on the cushion is borderline painful.

Johnny helps you ride out your orgasm for as long as possible until your body begins shuddering due to oversensitivity. He gradually slows down to a stop, then removes himself from your body to let you breathe correctly. While he sucks on his fingers, he uses his clean hands to soothingly rub your back, waiting for you to calm back down. 

You’re a bit dazed during the transition of more kissing that leads you on top of him, straddling him once again. You vaguely remember the caresses on your waist or the pinch of his fingers playing with your nipples, but the feeling of your bare pussy dragging against his dick is very memorable because it sparks a desperate need within you to sit on it. 

Johnny’s hands on your hips move you to continue the friction, moving you back and forth on his dick easily. Foreheads connected as you catch your breath from the kiss you just broke away from, the two of you watch silently as his head reappears and disappears behind your lips, turning you both on until he’s fully hard again and you can’t handle him not being inside of you anymore.

You lift up on your knees to align his tip with your entrance. A silent look is exchanged where you ask and he nods once. He lets you take your time, enjoying the feeling of his tip directly rubbing against your sopping entrance.

Your labored breaths at the sensation bring his attention to your chest, and his mouth wraps around a nipple without a thought. By now, you deem his dick wet enough to press his head in your hole and press your hips down. The moment he slides in your head falls back because the stretch burns in the best way. It feels like time doesn’t exist as you work your way down his length, inch by inch. Your hips naturally find a slow rhythm as you lift and drop them to take in more until he slides in and out easily. 

When your features no longer show discomfort, Johnny begins moving with you. Every time he lifts his hips up a little to meet your thrusts his body slumps down the headboard. His hands are loose on your waist as you move your body up and down and he’s got the perfect view of his dick going in and out of your core while you’re controlling the pace and intensity. The muscles in your thighs start to burn, so you slow down to a stop and carefully slide your way down until your clit comes in contact with his pubic bone, resulting in your eyes rolling back, hips grinding on their own accord. 

“How the fuck do you feel this good?” Johnny groans deeply, hands gripping your ass to assist your movements.

His compliment, his hungry, intense gaze as they take you in from your eyes—which mirror his own—down to the trail of slick you’ve left behind on his tamed curls from the swivel of your hips, and the way his cock rubs against your g-spot send you over the edge within moments. Johnny soothingly rubs a cheek with one hand while the other caresses your arched spine, keeping his hips still to let you ride your orgasm out on your own. 

You slump into him, head on his shoulder, panting against his neck. A sigh of content slips out when Johnny hugs you tightly against his broad chest right before asking, “You alright?”

“Great,” you reply breathlessly. 

Johnny smiles at the positive response. He lifts his hips experimentally and gauges your reaction, which is a satisfied hum. 

“You want more?” he asks, hands moving to your hips to carefully grind against him. How could you say no? “Hands and knees, baby.”

You begin climbing off to the side of him then he follows your lead and lifts himself up so you can settle on your knees and bend until your face slides onto his pillow. Your hands grab the sides of it in anticipation. 

A deep groan sounds from behind you, so you crane your neck and see the way he stares down at how he can see everything you have to offer him at this moment. One hand goes to his dick while the other massages one of your cheeks. He runs the swollen tip of his dick along your slit, collecting what’s oozed out. You close your eyes and relax the side of your face into the cushion beneath it and take a breath, preparing yourself for the stretch and intensity this angle never fails to bring.

He slowly starts to breach your entrance. There’s a pause, then you hear him spit down before more of him slips inside of you inch by inch with each roll of his hips. He keeps his movements shallow for a while and your walls reaccept him easily. A particular thrust sends him deep inside of you, his tip just barely kissing your cervix. Your body’s first instinct is to run away from it. His hands on your hips stop you from fleeing, holding you still and rubbing the skin there to ease you. 

“I won’t go too deep,” he tells you, hips still as he kisses up your spine and makes you dizzy by the tenderness of it all. “I’m not gonna hurt you.”

You nod at his promises and take another steadying breath, then the pleasurable friction is back. You’d believe anything he told you with that intoxicating voice of his. 

A loud, embarrassing squelch comes out of your core when he’s sheathed inside that makes you bury your face into the pillow. There’s one last kiss at the top of your spine before the body heat from his chest is gone and he’s back upright. He finds his rhythm easily, and hands return to your backside, fingers digging into the flesh, no doubt leaving behind white imprints. He uses his grip as leverage to fuck down into you at a different angle that allows him to speed up and rip an unrestrained moan from your throat. 

“You okay?”

You nod violently and sob, “Yes! Oh, my god, yes.”

Content, Johnny hums and you just know he’s grinning down at you by the sound of his voice when he asks: “Feels good?”

“So good,” you whine, unable to close your mouth or stop noises from coming out of it. You begin dropping your hips down to meet his thrusts, the loud smacks of skin against skin echoing and bouncing off of the walls of his room. “Fuck it feels so good, Johnny.”

“I know, baby” he groans. “And this pussy feels so fucking good—shit.”

The two of you get lost in the rhythm you’ve created and no more words are exchanged for a while, just the sound of groans that comes deep from Johnny’s throat and whines and pants that make you drool all while drying your throat out. The room has gotten increasingly hotter and your bodies now shine with a thin, sticky sheen that makes the back of your thighs stick to the front of his own every time he fucks back into you. Your sensitive nipples rub harshly against the sheets, stimulating you even further to the point of another sob ripping out of your throat and your walls fluttering around his girth. 

“I’m gonna cum,” you whimper. Your divulgence prompts him to reach his arm under you to graze his fingertips over your engorged clit and then you’re repeating your words over and over again until your actions meet your words and you’re cumming all over him. Your essence drips down the insides of your thighs and his balls and his thrusts create wetter, louder noises. A swivel of your hips causes his dick to pop out and suddenly your body is vibrating. 

“There you go, baby,” Johnny praises you, sliding back into you and precisely hitting that spot within you a few more times until your pussy clenches again and he pulls out again, letting more wetness spray the sheets under you. 

“Look at you,” he continues with a deep chuckle. “Making such a big mess.”

You don’t know if he really meant for you to look but your curiosity gets the best of you and you lift your head and look in between your legs. There’s a dark puddle on his sheets and another whine leaves your body, your head falling back into the pillow. 

“Can you handle more?” Johnny asks you softly, slapping the top of your asscheek with his dick. 

You need more. You don’t know what the hell Johnny has done to you and your body but you feel empty and not satisfied enough. Your core is raw at this point but you want nothing more than to feel the velvety skin of his thick, long dick sliding in and out of you and hitting every spot in you that makes your body convulse again. 

“Please,” you beg, wagging your hips to emphasize your needs. “Please, Johnny.”

“I’ve got you begging now?” He sounds so turned on yet taken aback, another dark laugh vibrating your body at the nod of your head and movement of your body. If you were in your right mind, you would be ashamed of your behavior and submission to your assistant, but you’re not. And who cares when you’ve never felt this way before and crave to feel even more?

“I need it,” you confess without shame. “Need you back inside of me.”

Johnny doesn’t need any more convincing to be back, deep within you and instantly satisfying you again. Your breath stutters and it’s not easy to speak in coherent sentences, but that doesn’t stop you from trying to voice your pleasure and appreciation to the brunet whose self-control only continues to dissolve the faster he slams into you and the higher your voice gets.

Both of your breath patterns get quicker, loud, more erratic, signaling the approach of his first release and your third? Fourth? You can’t keep up with it when your brain has turned into mush and you can barely remember your own name, only his own registering in your brain. His name rolls off of your tongue like a mantra, driving him insane behind you. 

“Where do you want me to cum?” he pants. It takes you too long to swallow in an attempt to lubricate your throat and answer him, Johnny humming in question impatiently. 

“My back,” you manage to squeak out. You’re impressed with the amount of control he has, the slamming of his hips into your ass somehow speeding up and getting rougher. Johnny lacks the control and precision from before, and the way his tip kisses your cervix rips a yell out of you, eyes watering as you hold on for dear life. He releases a drawn out groan from deep within, and not too long later you feel ropes of cum land on your lower back and ass.

Your body is shaking. Tears leak out of your eyes, your breath is hard to catch, and quiet cries come out. You’re gently flipped over and pulled into strong arms, quickly finding comfort in the chest you settle into. 

“You’re okay, baby,” Johnny’s soft voice says to you, but you can’t open your eyes or your mouth to acknowledge him. You’re confused about why you’re reacting to this, but you don’t dislike it. Especially when you have Johnny to soothe you and help you calm down. “Are you hurting anywhere?” 

You shake your head and finally try to respond, but it takes a couple of coughs and harsh swallows of spit to do so. “No. I feel good. Everywhere.”

Your speech is choppy, unlike your usual way of speaking, but stringing words into sentences that flow well is too much work right now. Johnny doesn’t mind; he loves that he had that effect on you after you’ve had him under your spell for so long. He loves the fact he successfully kept his promise to you and now you’re boneless in his arms. 

He reaches for the glass of water on his nightstand and hands it to you. “Are you ready for a bath?”

“Can I fall asleep in the bath?” you ask, wiping your face tiredly.

“Sure,” Johnny says softly before setting you down on the dry part of the bed. “I’ll come get you once it’s ready.”

That’s how the rest of the day plays out, you getting taken care of in multiple ways. Your favorite method is with his tongue and fingers as he made out with your pussy for what felt like hours in lieu of an apology for going so hard. And maybe Johnny purposely falls asleep next to you after you’re bathed, fed, and exhausted from coming, curled up into his side in the new sheets because he wants you to stay a little longer. There’s no way in hell he’ll ever get to see this side of you again after today.

“Good morning,” Johnny greets you. It’s eight in the morning the following Monday, and he’s got your avocado toast and fruit in his hands as he walks up to your desk.

You're rummaging through your bag looking for the bobby pins you threw inside of it this morning in your rush to get to work on time because believe it or not, you overslept. You give up in favor of looking up to greet him back, but your voice decides not to come out when your eyes lock with his. There hadn’t been any contact since you woke up in the middle of the night and he walked you to his door with a lingering kiss that quite literally took your breath away to close out the short chapter of your relationship you’d just created. You were still tired, but you definitely were not supposed to sleep over, so it was nothing. 

But now, seeing the same eyes that stared into your own while you came and cried his name multiple times, all you can do is blink. And then he licks his pretty lips. You knew this would happen. You’re not mad at it, though. How could you be when you’d never experienced someone like him before? In hindsight, there was no possible way to go back to normal after the intimacy, tenderness, and raw attraction you shared that day. No possible way to never want another taste. 

“You okay?” he asks unsurely, setting your plates down. 

And here it comes.

“Johnny,” you say lowly, setting your bag down. The quirk in his brow and the corner of his mouth lets you know he’s onto you. And that just makes things easier for you. “Lock the door.”

yikesssssss

[restlessfandoming]

glaze lily (childe x lumine oneshot)

Lumine let out a huge yawn as she clambered down the steps of the Liyue Inn.

Paimon rubbed her eyes next to her. “Yesterday was such a long day of doing things for Zhongli.” The little guide then perked up. “At least we get a day off today! Paimon thinks we should spend the whole day eating!”

Lumine nodded, mouth salivating at the thought of breakfast. Hmm, what to eat? Grilled Tiger Fish? Mora Meat? Stir-Fried—

She opened the door of the Inn straight into Childe.

“Ahh!” Paimon screamed as Lumine jumped back, hand hovering over the hilt of her sword.

Childe let out a sheepish laugh. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”

Lumine let out a sigh of relief, dematerializing her blade. Paimon, on the other hand, let out a huff of anger.

She floated over to the Harbinger, hands on her hips. “What is it that you want? Scaring us first thing in the morning like that!”

“Were you waiting outside for me to wake up?” Lumine asked, one eyebrow raised.

“Only for a bit.” He pulled out a pocket watch. “I assumed the two of you like to sleep in,” he said as he dangled the watch in front of Lumine, “and looks like I was right.”

She rolled her eyes upon seeing that it was nearly the afternoon already as Childe gave her a tiny smirk.

Paimon made noises of protest. “Well, it’s not our fault that you and Zhongli have been making us run around doing all these tiring quests!”

“Well, the two of you have proved more than competent in completing these tasks.” His blue eyes lingered on Lumine, and she felt the need to look away. “Speaking of which,” he continued, “I would like for you to accompany me on a trip today.”

“What’s in it for us?” Lumine asked. Paimon feverishly nodded in agreement.

Childe tilted his head. “Well, as always I’m willing to offer lots of Mora…”

Then, Lumine’s stomach growled. Loudly. Her face flushed.

The Harbinger burst out laughing. “And I’ll throw in breakfast, on me.”

Lumine huffed and crossed her arms, face still burning. “Fine, we’ll take your deal.”

Paimon spun around excitedly. “Yay! Food!”

“So, where to?” Childe asked.

Lumine walked past him, going towards the smell of cooking food. “Whatever smells best.” From the corner of eye, she saw him shake his head with a smile.

After a few moments of following their noses, Paimon and the traveler stopped in front of Su Er’niang’s street food stand.

“That smells…” Lumine started.

“Sooooo gooood!” Paimon interjected, quickly flying to the vendor. “What is that you’re cooking?”

Su Er’niang smiled. “Why, it’s my delicious Zhongyuan Chop Suey!” She held up a plate of aromatic seasoned fish and meat skewers, nestled on a bed of glistening greens. Saliva dripped from Paimon’s mouth.

“How much for a plate?” Lumine asked, after swallowing her own watering mouthful.

“6,600 Mora!”

Her jaw dropped. “6-6,00 Mora for one plate?”

She felt a gloved hand rest on her shoulder, and a bag descended in front of her face.

“Here’s 20,000 Mora,” Childe’s voice rang out above her, directed at the vendor. “Get us three plates. You can keep the leftover money.”

“Oh, uhm, thank you, sir,” Su Er’niang said, taking the bag, eyes nervously flickering between the Fatui member and the traveler.

Ah, yes, the Fatui are very much feared. And for good reason. Lumine recalled Signoria’s attack on her and Venti. How cold and violent it was. She shuddered and shook off Childe’s hand.

“Let’s find a place to sit,” she said, walking away. Childe’s hand briefly hovered where it had been on her shoulder, before dropping to his side. He started to follow her to a table.

The two sat down across from each other, but the air had changed. The harbor was bustling with life in the afternoon sun, but all Lumine felt was Childe’s icy gaze. She tried to awkwardly eat, while his food remained untouched. Paimon scarfed down the skewers, completely oblivious to the tension in front of her. After a while, Lumine set down her food, opening her mouth to say something. But Childe spoke first.

“You still don’t trust me.” His eyes held the same hurt expression from before, when she had initially expressed her distrust of him about the Signoria incident. However, Zhongli wasn’t there to break the tension this time.

“You know why,” Lumine said, her voice tight. “The Fatui can’t be trusted.” It was harsh to say, but it was true. If she let people too close—a member of the Fatui at that—there was no telling what would happen; it could jeopardize her and her brother, wherever he was. If they found out she wasn’t of this world…

The Harbinger’s eyes narrowed slightly. “I won’t disagree there. But I have no interest in being like Signoria, or like the rest of the Fatui at that. As I’ve said before, I don’t agree with their methods.”

“Then why continue to be a part of it?”

“Yeah, you should leave if you don’t like them,” Paimon said quietly, hovering behind Lumine’s shoulder, scared.

He crossed his arms. “We all have our reasons for doing things. I have my reasons to do what I do, just like how you,” he said, leaning in, “have your reasons for keeping secrets.”

Lumine and Childe stared at each other, both with their eyes calculating and searching for answers.

Then, he let out a chuckle, breaking the tension. “Let’s not get so serious so early in the day!” He took a bite of the Chop Suey. “Tasty! Thankfully we don’t need chopsticks for this,” he said with a wink.

The traveler’s brows furrowed, and she exchanged a worried look with Paimon.

Childe sighed. “Look, I’d like for us to be...friends. Would that be so bad?”

Friends…

“Come with me today, and I promise, no funny business,” he said.

After a moment of silence, Lumine finally spoke, “Where would we be going anyways?” Was this a bad idea?

“Qingce Village.” He seemed to perk up slightly at Lumine agreeing. “I’m on a diplomatic mission, but it’s a rather long journey there alone.” He gave a small smile. “It would be a lot easier with another person accompanying me.”

“Hey! Paimon’s here too!” the fairy protested.

“Sorry, two other people accompanying me.”

“Why not any of your subordinates?” Lumine asked.

Childe rested his chin on his hand, tilting his head. “Boring. It’s always silent. Or, it’s ‘Yes, sir’ this and ‘Yes, sir’ that. I’d much rather have someone like you with me.” His eyes locked with hers.

She felt butterflies in her stomach. She scoffed, trying to get rid of them. “When do we leave?”

“As soon as you finish your food, girlie.”

Lumine stuffed a whole skewer in her mouth, trying to hide the heat that was steadily rising from her stomach to her face. Childe laughed.

“Hurry up, Lumine! Paimon’s already all done!” Paimon lifted her empty plate, going to show Childe. Struggling under the weight, however, she accidentally hit him in the face.

Lumine snorted, and soon, the three of them were all smiles and laughs.

Friends...Maybe that wouldn’t be so bad…

                               * * *

“Are we almost there yet? Paimon’s tired…,” Paimon asked, dramatically drooping her shoulders.

“You don’t even walk, you float,” Lumine said.

Paimon pouted. “Doesn’t make it any less tiring.”

“We’re nearly there. The last bridge to cross is up ahead,” Childe answered.

“Oo, Lumine look!” Paimon floated to a plant with shining red fruit hanging from its branches. “Juyeun Chilis!”

Seeing the chilis reminded her of Xiangling. She grimaced at the thought of slime soup.

Paimon sniffed one, and immediately began coughing. “W-wow! Even—cough—even the smell is s-spicy!”

Childe walked over and plucked one, examining it. “Hmm, I’ve yet to try one during my stay in Liyue.”

“Do you like spicy food?” Lumine asked.

“Not necessarily. But, I’m not opposed to trying new things.” He proceeded to take a bite of the chili, as if it were an apple.

Lumine and Paimon both gasped.

He looked at them. “What?”

The traveler regarded him with wide eyes. “Y-you have no reaction?”

He shrugged. “I guess not.”

“You’re a psychopath.”

“Oh? You really think so?” His blue eyes glinted.

Before Lumine could respond, a group of Treasure Hoarders jumped out from the shadows of the bamboo lining the pathway.

“What do we have here? Some lone travelers?” the largest of the group said.

“Some lone travelers we easily outnumber, boss,” another Hoarder added, waving his bow around.

The other Hoarders laughed sardonically, all brandishing their weapons of choice. There were 10 of them, all closing in around Lumine, Childe, and Paimon.

“Give us all your belongings, and we won’t make a fuss,” the boss demanded.

Soon, Lumine and Childe were back to back, with Paimon frantically looking for somewhere to hide.

“Think you can take half of them?” Childe murmured.

Lumine scoffed. “Of course.”

“When I draw my spear then.”

She inched her hand towards where her hilt would materialize momentarily. Then, WHOOSH, the sound of rushing water filled her ears as Childe’s spear formed next to her.

Lumine’s sword appeared in her hand as she rushed forth, striking the closest enemy. They were stunned, giving her time to charge up a Palm Vortex, which ended up sending two of the Hoarders spiraling away. With three left, she charged with her blade again, continuously delivering hits, then sending out a Gust Surge, blowing the remaining three enemies away.

She turned to Childe, ready to assist him, only to find him standing there, watching her. The Treasure Hoarders on his side were already subdued, all groaning on the ground in pain.

“Very impressive,” he said. “No wonder you’re the renowned ‘Hero of Mondstadt.’”

She rolled her eyes. “Good job to you too.”

Paimon flew out from behind a nearby rock. “Whew! We took those guys out fast!”

Lumine raised her brows. “We?”

“You and Childe make a good team!” Paimon said, ignoring the question.

“Yes, I’d say we do,” the Harbinger agreed. “What do you say we join forces?”

“No thank you,” Lumine answered. “Dealing with Paimon is enough.”

“Hey!”

Lumine started walking towards the bridge. “C’mon, it’s almost nighttime,” she said, eyeing the colors of the sunset splashed across the sky.

As the three of them crossed the bridge, the sight of the village came into view.

Lumine gaped at the beautiful sea of yellow and orange fields and crystal rivers. She went straight to one of the fields, looking at the colorful flowers.

“So pretty!” Paimon said, laying down in the plants, and closing her eyes. “So soft…”

“I take it you like the village?” Childe asked, walking up behind them.

The traveler nodded. “It’s quiet. Peaceful.”

They stood in silence for a while. Birds chirped. The wind rustled. In the distance, children playfully screamed. The sun was dipping below the horizon, and Paimon’s tiny snores started to fill the air. Childe and Lumine both chuckled.

“Before I speak with the elders,” he started. He leaned down, and picked something out of the ground. A brilliant blue flower with shimmering white petals in the center. “Here.” He held it out for Lumine.

“A glaze lily?” she asked. She remembered seeing some at Liyue Harbor.

“Yes. They’re an extremely ancient flower, and they only open at night.” He brought it closer to her nose. “Zhongli said that it transforms the memories of the land into its fragrance when it opens.”

Lumine leaned in, closed her eyes, and sniffed. There was a scent of the earth, reminiscent of the vast mountain ranges across the land, along with the salty spray of the ocean.

“Yes, it definitely smells like how I would imagine Liyue smells.” She opened her eyes, and to her shock, found Childe’s face closer to hers than before.

She blushed slightly, wanting to back away, but his intense icy blue eyes kept her in place. One of his hands reached up, and then took out the white flowers in her hair.

“Let’s see how this looks,” he said, quieter—his voice more husky—than usual. He gently put the glaze lily in her hair, then stared at her silently.

Lumine’s heart was racing. “W-what?”

He smiled. “Nothing.”

“Don’t lie,” she said.

“Okay.” He leaned in close. “You’re very beautiful.”

Then, Childe kissed her.

If it was possible, Lumine would’ve thought the top of her head blew off, leaving the rest of her body to boil alive in the heat she was feeling.

“Ah-uh-uhm,” she tried to speak; her tongue refused to listen.

He pulled away and chuckled. “Stay close by until I’m done with my meeting, okay?”

“Ah-uh-wha-what?” she stuttered.

Childe casually sauntered away. “Be back soon!”

Lumine stood in place for what seemed like an eternity, trying to keep her brain from melting away.

Did that really just happen?!

“Ch-Childe,” she said, but her voice was barely above a whisper. He was already a dot in the distance. “Childe!” she shouted. But he couldn’t hear her.

Paimon stirred awake. “Huuuuh? What happened?” she slurred, lazily floating up from the ground.

“I—,” Lumine said, “I don’t know.”

It was a surprise. Definitely a huge surprise.

But...she didn’t hate it.

In fact, against everything she had thought of him at this point, she enjoyed it.

She brushed her fingers over her lips. Then, she took the glaze lily from her hair, looking at it over and over again.

Childe...Is he an enemy? A friend? Or is he something more?

[Fic Masterlist]

[woniepop]

encore

➜ sunghoon had never fallen in love with anything the way he did with skating. the wind in his face, the crunch of the ice beneath his feet, it was wonderful. and yet, something about it made your blood boil. you once loved ice skating too, for the same reasons as he, but maybe all you needed was a simple goodbye to understand park sunghoon.

wc: 4.6k

genre: ice skating au, best friends to lovers (ish), angst, fluff, romance, slice of life

content warnings: illness, mentions of medication, mentions of blood, death, mentions of anxiety, mentions of fainting, hospitals, angst, death of a loved one

heavily based off Your Lie in April

tagging: @svnghoonie @unghoon @swanlakesujin​ @heeblr @sweetseung @ferxanda @katberri @usdolans @kisshoons @scintillasofbeomgyu @leemika @qngelhoonie​ 

a/n: hi everyone! this is my first time i’m writing something like this, so i hop eyou guys enjoy it because i’d be super down to write more in the future. 

Friday, October 16, 2020

The busy sounds of couples, families, and friends fill the air as the cold wind hits your face. Holding hands with your mom, you glide through the ice, laughter filling the entire rink. The bleachers, the other skaters, the floor, it all disappears and the only thing that’s left is you and your mom. Your seven year old self had never felt so alive. 

And yet, here you were, seventeen, staring off into the ice rink as other kids and their mothers ice skated. Ever since you fell in love with the sport it had been the bane of your existence. Mom died, so you stopped. You swore to never go back again, it gave you anxiety. You tried, you really did, but something about being on the ice reminded you so much of the past you wanted to leave behind. It went downhill from then on. 

“Hey, what are you thinking about?” a familiar voice calls out to you. Sunghoon, who had been practicing for his upcoming competition, leans against the side of the rink, talking to you who was sitting on the bleachers. 

“Just my mom again,” you reply. 

“It’s been a while since she passed away, huh. Should we go get some ice cream to cheer you up then?” He says as he skates towards the exit, walking to you. You stand up, bag in hand, and wait for him to change out of his skates. Sunghoon, who had been your best friend since your five year old skating class, had been with you through everything. He always seemed to know just what to say to cheer you up. 

“Hey, y/n. Do you think you’d ever try to skate again?” Sunghoon asks, fully knowing the answer but hoping maybe this time it'll be different. 

“Haha, you really want me to get back into skating that badly?” 

“Well, it’s been a while since you’ve done it. You don’t have to compete with me again, you know. But why don’t you just try it again for fun?” 

You stop in your tracks and think about it. It wouldn’t hurt to try for fun. It was your life at one point. “Fine, tomorrow afternoon. But that’s it.” you say, watching his face light up. 

Saturday, October 17, 2020

“Don’t let go, Sunghoon. I SAID DON’T LET GO.” You shout, as he laughs. 

“Y/n, just relax. You know this. I’m letting go now.” 

“SUNGHOON!” you shout. Your legs bent and you stand in place, too scared to move. You watch as he takes your hand and guides you around the rink. The nostalgia comes rushing back. The wind in your face, the feeling of your feet gliding across the ice like nothing, it had been so long. Before you realize it, you had let go of Sunghoon and gone way ahead of him. Looking back, you find him smiling at you. You remember this feeling, and you loved it. 

You’d definitely got your love of skating from your mom. Being the daughter of a professional skater, it had been your dream to be like her. She was and always will be your role model. When you had quit skating you wondered if she’d be disappointed in you for quitting, but thoughts of her always flooded your mind and you could never focus on the task at hand. You knew your mom would never be disappointed in you, but you were disappointed in you. 

It had been half an hour of skating and an all too familiar voice calls out to you.

“Y/n!”

“Mom?” you say in response. You look back, no one. Not soon after, your breathing gets heavy, the world starts spinning and the nostalgia of the rink gets washed over by spots of black, your head was pounding. You keep looking. Where was she? Why was this happening? You wanted to hug her. Was she proud of you? Upset that you didn’t skate anymore? Why did she leave you? Before you know it, you could feel Sunghoon holding you on the floor before going unconscious.

Sunday, October 18, 2020

“Y/n, I’m so sorry.” Sunghoon says, clutching your hand while kneeling next to your bed. 

“Sunghoon, I’m fine. It’s not your fault.” 

“BUT IT IS! I asked you to skate with me and now you’re hurt.” 

“I’m not hurt. It’s okay.” you say as you rub the back of his hand with your thumb. You look at the clock. 7pm. It was the next day. “Don’t you have practice? Let’s go.” 

“What do you mean let’s go?!? You just woke up??” Sunghoon utters in a panic.

“Yeah, which means I’m energized. I need to make sure you don’t stay there for too long and hurt yourself too.” you say, standing up to shoo Sunghoon out so you can change. “Wait on the couch,” 

A few moments later you both were out the door and on the bus to the ice rink. 

“I’m not going to stay for long then. I don’t want you to be out for too long.” He decides. 

“That’s fine.” 

The noise Sunghoon’s skates made as they hit the ice and the chilly air gave you comfort as you watched him run through his routine. Running his fingers through his hair, your eyes follow him wherever he went. He knew you were watching, which was why he was putting on his best performance. The both of you had never felt butterflies for each other like the way you did now. Before you knew it, the two of you were falling hard. 

“Y/n, let’s go now.” Sunghoon says as his chest rises up and down, panting from his last run. 

“Okay, you did good today.” You compliment him as you walk to the bus. His hand accidentally bumps into yours. You desperately wished that he had gone to hold yours, but he was just your best friend. Nothing more. The ride was filled with a comfortable silence. You stared out the window while Sunghoon stared at you. Feeling his gaze on you, you turn to look at him only for him to turn away and pretend like he was looking the other way. Having spent almost everyday for the past ten years with Sunghoon, you guys never needed to talk constantly, having each other there was just enough to have a great day. 

You get off together, but Sunghoon was acting suspiciously jittery. He walks you home, but you see him turn the opposite direction of your house once you’re inside. Weird. 

Alone, Sunghoon gets back on the bus. His home was close enough to walk from your house, though. “What was he doing?”, you thought.

Arriving at his destination, Sunghoon sighs as he puts a hand up to his backpack strap. 

“Name?” the receptionist asks. 

“Park Sunghoon.” 

“Sunghoon! I’m sorry to see you back. You’ve grown so well. The doctor is ready for you in room 306. Good luck!” 

In and out of hospitals ever since the seventh grade, twelve year old Sunghoon stands in the dark hospital hallway, watching his parents cry in the moonlit lobby. He didn’t have much time left, he thought. 

Trudging through the all too familiar hallways, Sunghoon makes a left turn and opens the fourth door to the right. He knew this place like the back of his hand. 

“Hey Sunghoon! Welcome back! Just take a seat over there and I’ll start preparing to run some tests and then we’ll talk about starting your physical therapy.” The doctor says in a way too cheerful voice. 

“That sound’s good. Thank you.” Sunghoon replies. Hearing the sound of the door clicking shut, Sunghoon sat deep in thought. He wanted to skate with you again, but he was worried about your health. Just one more time. That was what he wanted. The glimmer in your eyes, you huge yet adorable smile. He wanted to see it again. 

Next Saturday, October 24, 2020

The day started out hectic but you finally found your seat in the stands. You waited for them to announce Sunghoon. Alas, he came gliding out and the crowd was already cheering. Before he starts his eyes search for you, smile widening when his eyes finally meet with yours. Although he had other passions, like skating, his favorite one would always be you. The music starts and the audience quiets down. You had probably seen this routine over 100 times, but something about the setting, the mood, made it seem like a whole new dance. Every move he made drew you further in. He pushed the audience to the edge of their seats leaving them in awe. It was all for you. Everything about him at that moment was brilliant. Once he ends, the audience roars and Sunghoon, not surprisingly, ends up winning. Of course he won. He was your Sunghoon. 

You make a beeline towards the performers’ hall and jump onto Sunghoon’s back, accidentally hitting his face with the flowers you had purchased a few moments before. 

“Y/n, I told you to stop buying me these. They’re a waste of money.” Sunghoon giggles, happy to see you. You’d had always brushed them off as a pretty reward for a pretty performer, but there had always been a separate meaning behind the red tulips you give him. They would always end up in your home, in the glass vase next to the couch. A gift from your father to your mother, every Friday. Red tulips, the symbol of true love. 

“Alright, I need to go change, wait here.” he says, leaving you behind. 

An hour goes by and you were starting to get a bit worried. You knock on his changing room door. Nothing. Did he leave without you? You knock on the door again, and nothing. Opening the door, your eyes widen and you let out a gasp. Sunghoon had fainted due to exhaustion and the blood from his head injury had stained the floor. 

You call the ambulance and thankfully they arrive quickly. Refusing to leave Sunghoon’s side, you watch as the nurses wrap bandages around his head. This had been the first time you’d seen Sunghoon like this. Was it happening often? Did he not get enough sleep last night? 

“Sunghoon, I’m glad to see you’re awake. You passed out from exhaustion again and we’ve handled your head injury. You’re free to go anytime.” The doctor says. 

“Again?”  you ask. 

“Yeah, but only a long time ago. You don’t need to worry about it.” Sunghoon says. “My parents have been overreacting and making me get routine tests, though.” 

As a kid, you hated going to the hospital, and Sunghoon knew that. It was bland, it was boring, but most of all it’s the place you lost your mother. You hated the hospital. You’d come almost every month, week even, watching them run tests on your mom, prescribe her what seemed to be like hundreds of different medications, it was terrible. Losing your parent to cancer was not fun. No more skating, no more family days, no more cheering at competitions. Your family dinners turning to just you and your dad, and then just you. Referring to your parents as my “parent,”. Learning how to live life without the person you cherished most. It seemed like your life revolved around that retched place you called the hospital. 

The rain poured and thunder boomed through the quiet hospital. He had sent you home before it rained, not wanting you to get wet and sick from the cold. Sunghoon sat still and thought to himself in his bed. “I see, so I’ve passed out again,” he thinks.

Monday, October 26, 2020

The chair screeches across the floor as Sunghoon drags it to your desk. 

“Y/nnnnnnn” he whines, seeing you eat your gummy worms. 

“No.” 

“But I’m hungryyyy” he cries. You roll your eyes, placing one in his hand. You watch as he holds one side close to his mouth as if he was waiting for something. 

“Sunghoon, what are you doing?” you ask. 

“Bite the other side” he says, causing your face to go red. 

“No”

“yes”

“no” 

“why not?” he says with his best attempt at puppy eyes and a pout. 

“why?” you ask, hoping he hasn’t noticed your tomato red face yet

“cause I want to. we can lady and tramp it.” he says. “you know you want to.” 

“I’m not going to lady and tramp a gummy worm with you. eat it or i’m taking it back.” you argue.

“Fine, but I have a proposal.” he announces. “I want to enter the next competition with you. Just one. Give me one more duet before you quit for good.” 

“no,” you reply. “I’m never skating again.” 

“Why not? You love it” 

“Why do you want me to skate so badly?” you ask. He didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t tell you the real reason. He couldn’t tell you he was dying, that was a huge no. 

“I miss being able to skate with my best friend. I feel so lonely.” he says, puppy eyes resurfacing. 

“I’ll think about it then.” 

“Good. Meet me at the ice rink on Saturday at 10am” he exclaims before getting up to go back to his desk. 

“I haven’t even agreed.” 

“Oops I can’t hear you!” he says as you roll your eyes. 

Saturday, October 31, 2020

Little you steps off the ice as tears threatened to pour out of your eyes. Running out of the rink into the changing room, you latch on to your mother. 

“Mommy, I’m not gonna win,” you say. Her hand comes up to run her fingers through your hair. She coos at you until your breathing has relaxed. 

“Why don’t you think you’d win, honey? I loved watching you out there. You were so beautiful.” she says. 

“I fell on the ice! Winners don’t do that. I wanted to win just like you.” you manage to sniffle out. You feel your mother give you a kiss on the forehead before kneeling and holding both of your hands. 

“Ah, you see, my love, they do! Mommy fell all the time! She still falls! I promise you no winner has never fallen. Mommy only wins because she knows what it’s like to fall! Even if you don’t win, mommy is very proud of you, okay?” she says. 

You bolt up from your sleep. It was just a dream. Scrunching your face, holding back the tears that threatened to spill out, you force yourself to get ready for the day, not giving any time to be sad and reminisce. 

You enter the complex, Sunghoon standing at the entrance of the rink, impatiently waiting for you. He was so excited. This was going to work out for him. You both walk to the bleachers to satrt lacing your skates, Sunghoon practically bouncing off the walls. 

“Aw man, I forgot my hair tie” you complain. Sunghoon pauses lacing his boots and holds his arm out to you. 

“Here” Sunghoon says as you look at the extra hair tie on his wrist. 

“Why do you have these.” you ask. 

“You always forget.” he says, unsurprised.

“Awwww you were thinking of me?” you teased. 

“Of course, idiot. Did you forget? I’m never not thinking of you” Sunghoon argued, wallking away, leaving you dumbfounded and blushing like a tomato. 

Once again you step into the rink. You were stronger this time. Taking a deep breath you start to glide across the ice once again. It was very unsettling, though. Being on the ice, having fainted the last time you were here. Both you and Sunghoon were on edge, but you were determined to help him win this competition. 

The day was filled with talking with your instructor, cleaning up your spins and jumps, and getting back to where you were before. You were getting it and you showed no signs of panic. Sunghoon was so proud of you. YOU were proud of you.

Sunghoon was happy, and he was hopeful. On his walk home all his thoughts were filled with you. Loving you ever since the seventh grade, when he found out he had an illness. He had decided never to tell you, fearing his time would come and leave you alone, but it was too late now. He didn’t want to push you away, you were his ride or die. His heart ached, he didn’t want to say goodbye. He didn’t want you to have to live alone. 

Opening the door to his home, he walks through the hallway, leaning against the wall limping to his room. Every big event Sunghoon would write you a letter, and so tonight he poured his heart out onto this piece of paper, tears staining his face. 

Sunday, November 1, 2020

On Sunday, you show up to his house unexpectedly but not surprisingly. “Sunghoon, get dressed. We’re going to the market.” you say. Without question, he does as you ask and you both head to the market in no time.

Walking down the ice cream aisle, you grab all the flavors you enjoy, filling your whole basket with different ice creams, toppings, fruit, drinks, and even a cake. “You’re quite hungry, aren’t you?” Sunghoon teases, earning him a slap to the arm.

As soon as you get home, you send Sunghoon alone to his bedroom, telling him you need time to prepare everything. You had pulled all the stops, whipping out the cheap snoopy shaved ice maker, birthday party hats, streamers, balloons, and banners. It was no one’s birthday in particular, but the fake birthday party put you in a festive and refreshing mood. You had set up a giant ice cream sundae bar, and had even made lemonade.

Calling Sunghoon to come out of the bedroom, he was not surprised but very impressed. Wanting to make it even more fun, he suggests to make sundaes for one another, which you happily agree to. The day was so fun, and it was hardly possible, but Sunghoon had fallen in love with you even more. 

Sunghoon was so happy that you planned something like this. He was never one to do anything cute for you unless you begged, so this time he wanted to show you how grateful he was to you by giving you one FREE boop on the nose. Scooping some ice cream with his fingertip, he lightly taps your nose, leaving the melted strawberry ice cream to drip off your nose. You turn to look at him in disgust, eventually dipping your finger in the ice cream and starting a war. 

Monday, November 2, 2020

From: Sunghoon (sent at 7:30am) 

[ GOOD MORNIN PARTY PEOPLE!!! ] 

From: you

[ where are you ]

From: Sunghoon

[ Oh yeah I forgot to tell you I’m not coming today. ]

From: you

[ what, why? I don’t wanna eat lunch alone like a loser. ]

From: Sunghoon

[ oh yeah. i’m back at the hospital LMAOOOO ]

From: you

[ WHY ]

From: Sunghoon

[ idk i forgot. i just woke up here and they were like “hihi” and i said “hihi” back ]

From: you

[ you are unbelievable. i’m coming after school. ]

From: Sunghoon

[ NO DON’T ] 

From: you

[ why ]

From: Sunghoon 

[ i don’t wanna get yelled at again. only come if you bring me more gummy worms ]

From: you

[ fine. since you’re sick ] 

You acted like you didn’t care, but you were so worried. What could’ve happened? Why couldn’t he remember? Even when bed ridden, he still managed to get you to fall head over heels. 

That afternoon, you arrive at the hospital, finding Sunghoon playing video games while lying in bed. You chuckled. Even with head bandages and an IV drip, he still managed to be his teenage boyish self. 

“Y/n! Today was so boring. Can we take a walk in the garden, I’m sick of being here.” he asks, to which you reluctantly agreed. 

During your stroll you talked about anything and everything, a common activity you both did. 

“How was school today? Did you miss me?” Sunghoon asks cheekily. 

“I did actually. I didn’t realize how much time I spend with you until today.” you respond. “But, it was okay. I got your gummy worms and some other snacks too. I know you hate hospital food.” 

“Well I missed you too, there was no one but the staff to bother.” He chuckles. “You know, I’m not always going to be around to help you.” 

“I know, but we have time.” 

Before you knew it, the sun was setting and Sunghoon sent you home so you didn’t have to walk alone in the dark. On his walk back to his room, Sunghoon worried. The thing was, you didn’t have time. The fact that you missed him in just a few hours? How would you feel about forever? He never wanted you to have bad days, let alone be the one to cause them. 

Walking through the hallways he trips and falls. Landing on his knees. He tried to get up, but he couldn’t. Why wouldn’t his legs move? He punched his leg. Nothing. Again. It was no use. He had lost feeling in his legs. Tears start pouring out of his eyes. Move, it’s just your leg. Get up. Move. Water droplets fall from his face as he bangs his fist on the floor. Why can’t he move. Eventually he gives up, dragging himself back to his room with his arms. They hurt. His heart hurt. Everything hurt. Was this it?

Tuesday, November 3, 2020

After last night’s events, Sunghoon felt out of it. He wouldn’t be able to go back to school for a while, the nurses claiming that if it happens again the situation can be way worse. He couldn’t skate anymore. He couldn’t see YOU skate anymore. This was it. His illness was getting to him. 

With a knock on the door, Sunghoon falls right out of his daze and watches as you come in with another bag of goodies. 

“I brought you some stuff from the convenience store.” You say, taking out a bottle of green tea and handing it to him. He reaches out to grab it but as soon as you let go the bottle slips out of his hands. 

Ah, so it’s spreading to my arms too, he thinks as he realizes he was too weak to grip the bottle. The doctors told his parents last night that surgery was an option, but it would only give him a little more time, but he wanted to take it. He wanted to be able to skate a little longer. He wanted to make it to the competition. 

“I’m in the mood to watch all the Studio Ghibli movies in one sitting.” Sunghoon says as he leans his head back. 

“Scoot over,” you reply, getting up to sit in his bed with him. “Good thing I brought my laptop.” 

“Are you sure? That’s gonna be like all night.” He asks. 

“Of course, I’m always in the mood for you,” you say as Sunghoon wraps an arm around you, prepared for the whole night of cuddling and movie watching. 

Half way through the marathon you feel Sunghoon nuzzle his face into your neck. His soft snoring tickled you. You bring your hand up to stroke his hair. Park Sunghoon, I am so in love with you, you think.  Your smile. Your eyes. Your lips. Your hair. Your voice. You teasing. The way you say my name. The way you stare at me. The way you talk. The way you smile at me. The way my day isn’t complete without you. I love you. 

Wednesday, November 4, 2020

The next day was supposed to be better. Sunghoon was going to see you and you were gonna get him more gummy worms. Sitting up with him on his bed, you were cuddling, and he seemed to be getting paler and paler by the minute. He seemed really tired, like he was sick to his stomach. 

You got up to go get him a drink from the vending machine, and as you came back nurses and doctors were rushing in and out of your best friend’s room. Your heart feels like it’s going to beat out of it’s chest and you run to his room. Sunghoon was clutching onto the sides of the bed, doctors scrambling to get the defibrillator going. His heart had stopped.

You’d later learn that he had gone into cardiac arrest, and you watched as the nurses wheeled his bed to the ICU. But the surgery didn’t work, and he didn’t survive. You felt numb. Stretching out a trembling arm, you took hold of Sunghoon’s hand. You shut your eyes and squeezed his palm. It was cold. Your  hand trembled harder with each passing second, as if the movement would cause Sunghoon to wake up. Your face buried into the crook of his neck. You nudged the bridge of your nose against the cool skin. Your lips brushed against his collarbone in desperate search of that familiar warmth. Both hands had clasped around Sunghoon’s, quavering without pause. Devastation weighed down on you. It was a surreal feeling, one that you could never in one million years describe. It squeezed you, threatening to crush you from the inside out. The pain seared itself into your soul, hindering him, rendering him speechless to a point where he no longer knew what words were. A sob wretched its way out from your throat. You tried desperately to hold it in. Tried so hard to keep yourself together, but you knew you were too weak to pull such a bluff. Once the second sob had left you, you felt yourself spiraling. There was no hiding it.

The doctor comes to hand you a letter. Weakly reaching out, you read it right away. You were desperate. You needed to hear something from Sunghoon, anything. 

Dear Y/n,

HI BESTIE, I know I write you one of these every big event, but I’m afraid this might be my last. I’m sorry if you’re getting the before the competition. I desperately wanted to skate with you, but I guess if you’re reading this then my time has come. I hope you’re doing okay. I don’t want you to miss me too much. Please keep skating. I love watching you skate, more than anything. You look so happy, so carefree. I want you to live like that always. It’s a lot to ask, I know, but I don’t want you to associate something you love so much with sadness. I’m with your mom now, and we’re rooting for you. Always. 

I know it was pretty obvious, but I love you. Actually, that’s an understatement. I’m so in love with you that my heart hurts when I’m not with you. I’m in love with you. And I love that I’m in love with you. I love the feelings. The happiness when I think of you, the butterflies when you text me, the excitement I get when I know I’ll get to see you. It’s amazing. And you’re amazing, and I love you. And I’m sorry I had to keep so many secrets. I’m sorry I couldn’t make it to the competition. I’m sorry for not telling you about my illness. I didn’t want you to carry this burden with me. You’re the light of my life, Y/n. I love you. 

Love, 

your bestie, sunghoon. 

[writeforfandoms]

Merry Go Round of Life

Find my masterlist

Okay. This is a Howl’s Moving Castle AU. It’s going to be a mix of both the book and the movie because I adore both of them equally and for different reasons. 

Also, no Din yet in this chapter. Sorry not sorry. 

This will end up as Din Djarin x f!reader. At some point down the line.

Warnings: Uh. None? Light swearing maybe?

Chapter one: In which a curse is laid

In the land of Concordia, things such as three-league boots existed. Witches and wizards wandered the land. And, if rumors are to be believed, the moving castle has once again started coming down the hills towards Kalevala. 

But you weren’t worried. Nobody had actually seen the wizard out and about. Nobody even knew his name, or spoke it. He was only ever the wizard of the moving castle. And nobody had a satisfying explanation for that, either. You’d stopped asking about him years ago. 

You didn’t have time to be gossiping about some wizard, anyhow. Your mother-in-law was retired, and both of your sisters had their own lives, leaving the shop to you. Not that you really minded - you’d been raised in this shop, knew it better than anywhere else. You were content with this. Your sisters visited (indeed, Omera still worked in town, having taken over the bakery when the previous owners retired), the shop was busy enough to keep you busy and fed, and things were… calm. Predictable. 

But really, you couldn’t complain. You were the youngest of three. You didn’t boast great beauty to match Omera, or great temper to match Cara. You were just… you. One of the best seamstresses in town, yes, but just you. And that was fine. That was… fine. 

On this particular morning, you were humming a little as you carefully measured fabric for a dress. This was about the time of year when you were flooded with custom requests for parties and celebrations, and you often ended up taking your work home with you. You had some help in the shop, a young lady to man the front desk and chat with customers, but she was still in training. And you didn’t mind taking work home. 

You tutted gently as you set two pieces of fabric together, checking the edges. “Very good,” you muttered to yourself. “You’ll be a handsome one indeed.” Chuckling at your own humor, you began to stitch the edges together. It wasn’t uncommon to find you chattering to yourself (and your sewing) as you worked. You got bored otherwise. The shop girl stayed out front, and you stayed in the back sewing unless you were needed to take measurements or consult. 

It didn’t take long for you to have the skirt portion of the dress done. At least, done enough for now. You gently set it aside and stretched, rolling your shoulders and cracking your neck before you pulled the fabric over again to make the next cuts. 

“At least the fabric is nice,” you murmured, gently running a hand along the rose-pink fabric to smooth it. “You’ll make a fine dress for the May Day dance.” You couldn’t help but smile at the thought. Your own dress (if you had time for it this year) was already squirreled away in your bedroom, and had been ready for a while. You’d made sure Omera was taken care of, too. Cara was on her own - you didn’t even know if she’d be home for the festival this year. 

You heard the bell over the door of the shop ring, but paid it no mind. Someone would yell if they needed you. Humming again, you picked up your sewing scissors, the nice heavy pair, and started cutting fabric. 

“Hey, Vee.” You could hear the customer from where you sat, but you still didn’t move. Did you sometimes listen to gossip while you worked? Sure. Not your fault they were gossiping in your hearing range. “Have you seen the castle?”

A gasp as your assistant, Vee, caught on to the subject. “No! I haven’t been out to the edge of town.”

“The castle is right out there!” the customer told her in an excited murmur. “You can see it clearly, just over the hill outside of town.”

“So close?” Vee asked in a hushed tone. “What’s he doing?”

“Don’t know,” the customer replied. “Mother thinks he’s looking for someone.”

You snorted very quietly to yourself. He was a wizard. You doubted anyone in Kalevala would hold any interest for someone like him. Not that you’d actually met many (or any) wizards but you’d read plenty about them. And this place? Probably didn’t have anybody of interest to an actual wizard.

“Maybe he’ll come to the festivities,” Vee said dreamily.

“Maybe,” the customer hummed, sounding unconvinced. On this, you sided with her - you doubted seriously the wizard would show up to May Day. Ha! That would be a sight. 

“Silly girls, the both of them,” you murmured to the dress. “But they’re young, I suppose they’re allowed to be silly.” 

It wasn’t long after that when the customer left, and Vee went back to her tasks. You shook your head and refocused on your sewing. If you weren’t interrupted, you could have this dress done in another day. 

Vee left at her normal time, and you closed up the shop. Nobody else had interrupted you, and you let out a sigh of relief once things were locked up tight. You worked for another hour or so by candlelight in the shop, and then carried a couple little things upstairs to work on in your apartment. Your apartment wasn’t much - a bedroom, kitchen/living area combo, and simple bathroom situated above the shop. But it was yours, and you didn’t have to share with anyone.

As much as you loved your sisters, you had been more than ready to strangle them by the time they moved out. 

A glance at the calendar on the wall showed that you had exactly one week left until May Day. Plenty of time to finish the last two dresses, and any last-minute adjustments that came in. You stretched briefly and ambled into the kitchen to make some dinner. 

The week passed as expected. You got your last two gowns done. You fixed and rehemmed and tweaked dresses for other customers. You even dealt with the one near-hysterical woman who came in the day before May Day a wreck because her toddler had ripped off some of the fabric roses on her dress. (That one was not an easy fix, and you gently scolded the dress for giving in to some toddler.) 

May Day was always one of the biggest celebrations of the year, full of flowers and bright colors. You donned your dress, the “closed” sign already hung up in the shop window, and ventured out into the streets. 

Things got more crowded the closer you got to the center of town, and soon you were dodging folks out making merry. You didn’t stop to join any of them, intent on your goal: your sister’s bakery. You’d been craving one of the cream cakes for weeks, and you were determined to get one. 

A group of well-dressed young men stumbled out of a tavern in front of you, and one of them made a teasing comment that you only half paid attention to. You simply looked at him and then away, dismissing him and striding on. Honestly. Boys. 

Finally, you made it to the bakery and (more or less) gently pushed your way inside. Omera was at the counter, handling payments and handing over cakes as fast as she could. She paused for a moment when she saw you before she smiled widely and called your name.

“Do you have a minute?” you shouted back at her over the dull roar inside the shop.

“I can spare one,” she replied, ushering you along the counter until she could lift up a flap for you. Grabbing your hand, she pulled you into the back of the bakery, nabbing a cream cake with her free hand. 

“How many proposals have you had today?” you asked, teasing her gently. She was beautiful, and widowed a few years ago. 

“I stopped counting after five,” she replied primly. “Sit and eat that.”

Grinning, you took the cake and sat down. “The dress looks good on you.”

“You knew it would.” She obligingly twirled for you though, showing off the whole thing. You nodded to yourself. Some of your finest work, probably. You’d be disappointed if the day ended without Omera receiving at least a dozen proposals. “Your dress is a little more plain this year, sister.”

“Hmm.” You stuffed a bite of cake in your mouth to buy yourself a little time. Which might have backfired on you, as Omera raised an eyebrow at you. You grimaced, just a little, and she huffed.

“Are you content to run the shop alone, then?”

“Maybe,” you muttered. “I don’t know. I haven’t--it hasn’t come up, recently.” You shuffled a little where you sat, uncomfortable now. 

Omera softened a little. “You could have just as many proposals, if you wanted,” she reminded you, reaching over to tweak your ear gently. “You needn’t stay at the shop by yourself.” Her smile turned teasing. “I’d even take you on as an apprentice.”

“Apprentice!” you shot back, mock-outraged. “I have spent more than enough time in your kitchen to do better than that!”

“I seem to recall someone eating all the cookie batter one day and getting sick,” she shot back. The two of you collapsed into giggles for a few moments, until someone shouted for Omera. Then she sighed. “That would be the end of my break. I’ll come see you at the shop, okay?”

“Sure,” you agreed, standing and pulling her into a hug.

“Just think about it,” she whispered in your ear. “Promise me.”

“I promise.”

You released her and made your way out of the bakery. More revellers filled the streets now, and your feet were trod on more than once as you made your way back home slowly. As night fell, bright blue and green fireworks shot into the air from outside of town, causing a great deal of commotion. Certainly they came from the wizard, but why nobody knew. You didn’t bother yourself overmuch with pondering, either. 

The week after May Day continued quietly. This was to be expected - hardly anyone would need anything except minor alterations and repairs so soon after a holiday. You’d given Vee two weeks off to spend with her family and her intended, and so you were stuck manning the store instead. 

The bell over the door tinkled and you looked up from a pair of socks you were repairing, and then paused. The woman who walked in was… odd. Very, very odd. For one thing, she was carrying a helmet propped against her hip, and she wore armor in blue and gray. Her hair was red and short, pulled back from her face. Her clothing under the armor was dark and nondescript - trousers and a long-sleeved shirt, essentially. 

You blinked at her, nonplussed for a moment, and then stood up straight behind the counter. “Can I help you?” 

“That remains to be seen.” She stepped closer to the counter, giving you a quick once-over. “You are the seamstress who made the dress for the baker? Omera, I believe her name is.”

You blinked again. “Yes.” It wasn’t unheard of for customers to refer to your other work, but it wasn’t exactly common, either.

She hummed acknowledgement of that and looked you over again. You had no idea what she was looking for, but she must not have found it, because she gave you a rather derisive look. “You’ll do.” She murmured something too low for you to hear, although it didn’t sound like Common to your ears, and flung one hand towards you, as if flinging water at you. Something cold dripped down your scalp, and you blinked rapidly at a feeling almost like vertigo. “There. That ought to do it.” She turned away sharply, and paused just before the door. “You won’t be able to tell anyone you’re under a curse, in case you were wondering.” And with that she was gone, out of the shop as quickly as she’d entered it.

[watchyourbluesturngolden]

Baby Stevie having an allergic reaction and Harry is all paranoid because his baby is all red and puffy and she can’t stop crying and you’re not home so of course Harry is gonna feel like the worst dad ever because this all happened when you were away (can you tell I just watched the game plane lol)

this is definitely not as dramatic as the scene from the game plan, but I hope you like it!

not your fault

warnings: child having an allergic reaction, (not very serious, no use of EpiPens/needles) anxiety

word count: 2.6k

“Wave bye bye!” Harry said, holding up Stevie’s arm and waving it at you. “Bye mommy!”

“Bye H, bye Stevie! I’ll be home soon, don’t cause too much trouble!” You said, laughing as you got in your car.

“I think we can manage that, hm?” He said, looking at the six month old in his arms. “What do you think?”

She babbled in response.

“Yeah?” He said, sounding very interested. “Sorry, Y/N, she says no promises,” he called, smiling.

You rolled your eyes, giving one final wave as you backed out of the driveway.

“Alright, Miss Stevie, we have the house to ourselves. What are we gonna do?”

She didn’t respond.

“Not very talkative today, are we?” He said, bouncing her a bit.

She looked him, eyes scrunching up as she yawned.

“Yawning? What’s this? It’s only 3 in the afternoon, and you’ve already had two naps today! I’m the one who should be tired, carrying you around all day,” he said dramatically. He loosened his grip on her for a fraction of a second, letting her drop less than an inch. She squealed, laughing as she gripped his shirt with her tiny fists.

“You’re an adventurous little one, aren’t you,” he smiled, repeating the motion. His heart swelled when she laughed again. That laugh was probably his favorite noise in the world. Besides yours. Maybe it was a tie.

She babbled up at him again, gesturing with her hands.

“Is that so?” Harry said, getting very involved in the conversation. “No she didn’t,” he gasped when Stevie waved her arms. “I don’t believe her!”

Stevie nodded, babbling some more words.

“What a shocking turn of events,” he said, eyes going wide.

When she was done talking, she sighed and rested her head against his shoulder. He couldn’t keep the smile off his face as he walked her to the kitchen.

“What do you say we find a snack?” He said, setting her in her high chair, hushing her when she fussed.

“Here, look at this!” He said, handing her a rubber spoon to distract her while he buckled her in.

She was instantly fascinated, investigating the new object by putting it in her mouth. Harry smiled, stepping away to open the fridge.

“What are we in the mood for today, Stevie?” He asked, turning around to face her. She stared at him with wide eyes, the spoon still in her mouth. “You’re not much help,” he laughed. “Maybe some yogurt,” he decided. 

“This?” He asked when Stevie reached for the container. She made a frustrated noise when he didn’t immediately give her what she wanted. “I have to open it, love!”

She got more upset, growling as she reached again.

“Fine, you can have it,” he said, handing her the yogurt. She looked at it, then back at him. “Right, you can’t get it, because there’s a lid,” he said, settling into the chair next to her. “Would you like me to open it?” He asked.

She allowed him to take the cup from her, watching carefully as he peeled off the tinfoil.

“See, just like that,” he said, handing the container back to her. He opened his own, laughing when Stevie smeared a glob of yogurt on her face. “Missed your mouth there, bug.”

She ignored him, continuing to make a mess. Harry just laughed, shaking his head.

Soon enough, she got bored of her snack. She communicated this by flinging her spoon onto the floor.

“Hey!” He said, leaning down to pick it up. “No throwing.”

She babbled defiantly.

“Don’t sass me!” He said, unable to keep himself from smiling. He already knew she was going to be a handful when she could talk.

Stevie pushed her yogurt away from her, smearing it all over her tray in the process.

“Done?” He asked, beginning to pull the cup away from her. When she didn’t protest, he threw it in the garbage can and reached for a washcloth.

She seemed to know what was coming and began squirming in her seat.

“Not this time, missy,” he said, remembering the other day when he had made the mistake of lifting her down before wiping her face off. The result had been food smeared all over his shirt. All over it.

He reached toward her, trying to wipe her mouth with the cloth. She turned her head every which way, somehow managing to avoid his attempts.

“Stevie,” he sighed, “Please?” He asked in a sing-song tone.

She stopped moving, intrigued by his voice. He used this opportunity to reach in again, but she was quick to turn her head. He groaned, lowering the cloth, before he had an idea.

“Stevie is my princess, my baby girl,” he sang, reaching forward slowly. She was so focused on his singing that she didn’t even flinch when he started wiping her face again. “My Stevie is so pretty, pretty like her mama,” he smiled, cleaning the last of her face. “See? All done,” he said, throwing the cloth back to the sink.

Harry went to remove the tray from her high chair, but stopped when she slapped her hands down on it.

“What?” He said, looking at her in surprise. “What do you want?”

She just looked at him.

“Come on, love, let’s go read a book!” He said, trying to remove the tray again. She fussed, banging her fists on the plastic.

“Alright, alright, you don’t have to be so aggressive about it,” he said, stepping back. “Would you like some berries?”

She babbled, bouncing in her seat.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he laughed, going to the fridge and finding the container of strawberries. “I think you’ve had these before,” he said, inspecting the fruits. “Should be fine, I’ll just cut them up small,” he said, mostly to himself.

He was excessively careful with what food he gave her. He got dozens of pamphlets from the pediatrician, filling the front of the fridge with “can baby have...” and “best foods for infants” and “nutrition tips”. You almost banned him from going to Stevie’s appointments with you, claiming your fridge was running out of room.

He didn’t care that he was probably being a helicopter parent. It was worth constantly hovering if it meant Stevie would be safe and healthy.

He rinsed the berries, patting them dry with a towel before moving them to the cutting board. He hummed along to the song playing out of the speaker. “Dreams” by Fleetwood Mac, because he wanted Stevie to be introduced to excellent music as soon as possible. It would ensure she had good taste later in life.

Once the strawberries were cut into tiny pieces, he set a few of them on Stevie’s tray. She didn’t hesitate, grabbing a handful and shoving them all into her mouth.

“Good thing I didn’t give you very many,” Harry said, laughing. He closed the container, putting them back in the fridge.

His smile dropped when he closed the door and saw Stevie. She had stopped chewing and her face was turning red. His eyes widened and he rushed over, putting his thumb on her chin to open her mouth. Harry sighed in relief when he saw she had swallowed the fruit and definitely wasn’t choking. Then he started panicking again, because her face was getting brighter and her cheeks were getting puffy. Her face scrunched up and she started crying.

He quickly unbuckled her from the seat, picking her up and patting her back firmly just in case. She cried harder, so she could definitely breathe. This didn’t help Harry’s panic much, because that meant something else was wrong.

His mind was racing as he thought of what this could be. She’s had yogurt before she’s had strawberries before why is this happening what do I do-

He shook his head, thinking of what to do next. Freaking out wouldn’t help him. He had to think clearly and quickly. This was not an easy task with Stevie screaming in his ear. As distracting as it was, he wasn’t annoyed at all, because it meant her throat wasn’t closing and she could still breathe properly.

“I know love, I’m sorry, I’ll fix this, you’ll feel better soon,” he said nervously, bouncing her to try and calm her down. “Just let me... Ah! I know what we need!” He said, running into the bathroom. He opened the medicine cabinet, searching frantically for the bottle he needed.

He sighed in relief when he found the Benadryl, pulling it out along with an empty syringe. He quickly went back to the kitchen, sitting on the floor with Stevie in his lap. He scanned the label for the dose, drawing it up in the syringe and holding it to her mouth.

“Come on Stevie, I know it’s yucky, I’m so sorry, you have to take this, come on,” he encouraged her, trying to get her to stop screaming. She finally quieted, sucking on the syringe as if it were a pacifier. Harry pushed the plunger, making sure she swallowed all of the medicine. As soon as he removed it, she started crying again.

His heart broke as he pulled her against him, rubbing her back.

“It’s ok, bug, I’m so sorry,” he soothed. “You’ll feel better soon, I’m so sorry,” he whispered.

Soon enough, the red started to fade and her cheeks went back to their normal size. Harry slumped back against the cabinets in relief, still holding her securely against his chest.

She was still crying, but thankfully her screaming had quieted and she was mostly just breathing unevenly.

After about ten minutes, he lifted her up to look at her. He inspected her face, making sure it was all back to normal. When he decided everything was good, he stood up and moved over to the living room with her.

He settled back on the recliner, pulling a blanket over them. She was laying on her tummy on his chest, head turned so she could hear his heartbeat. Her crying had all but stopped by now; the only noises he heard from her were a few sniffles every now and then.

Harry rubbed her back, humming softly to soothe her. She fell asleep quickly. All the crying and having an allergic reaction must have tired her out, he thought to himself. He was feeling worse and worse with every minute that passed. He was supposed to protect her. That was literally his job. He was supposed to keep her out of harm’s way. He was supposed to make sure nothing ever hurt her. He was supposed to know what foods she was allergic to, for goodness sake. That was just about the bare minimum of being a father: knowing what food could potentially kill your child and then not giving them that food.

Harry’s eyes welled up with tears. This was all his fault. He gave her those strawberries. He gave her something that caused direct harm. He hurt her.

He would never let you leave him alone with Stevie again. It wasn’t safe.

-----

“Harry, she’ll be ok!” You said, placing your hand on his arm to calm him down.

“No, she can’t be in there alone, please let me move her crib to our room,” he said desperately. His eyes darted around Stevie’s room as if he was looking for potential dangers.

“Harry, it’s alright, we have the baby monitor-“

“No, that’s not enough, she won’t be safe if we can’t see her!” He said, his eyes welling up.

“Ok,” you concede, knowing he’s in no state to argue about this. “But you can’t move her crib by yourself, why don’t we get the playpen and set it up by our bed, she can sleep in there.”

He nodded, moving to the closet and pulling out the large bag. He carried it to your room while you put Stevie’s pajamas on her.

She was totally ok. There was no trace of redness or puffiness on her face, and she had stopped crying before you had even gotten home. She was acting completely normal, her usually silly and bouncy self.

This didn’t seem to make Harry feel any better. He had been miserable since you got home and he explained what happened.

You had reassured him that Stevie had eaten strawberries before and had no problem. You explained that sometimes children just developed allergies. It was strange, and it was unfortunate, but it happened. You told him, multiple times, that this wasn’t his fault. You told him that he did a great job staying calm and getting Stevie the help she needed.

None of this seemed to matter. You could tell he was beating himself up for letting something happen to Stevie on his watch.

He didn’t even want to hold her. “She’ll be safer with you,” he said sadly.

You sighed, picking up your sleepy baby and walking to your room.

“Harry?” You asked softly, pushing open the door.

“Almost done,” he mumbled.

When he straightened up, he wouldn’t even look at you. You tried to hand Stevie to him so he could lay her down, but he quickly stepped aside.

“I’ll- I’m going to get her diffuser,” he said, leaving you and Stevie alone again.

You pressed a kiss to her forehead, setting her down gently in the playpen. You smiled when she flopped over, falling asleep almost right away.

Harry came back carrying the diffuser. He plugged it into the wall, filling the room with the sweet smell of lavender.

“Harry-“

“Don’t. Just... don’t,” he said, avoiding your eyes.

“Harry, come on. Look at me,” you said, stepping closer to him.

He finally complied, looking into your eyes. Your heart broke when you saw how sad he looked.

You opened your arms and he walked into them, holding you tightly. You felt him shaking as he started to cry.

“Harry, please don’t blame yourself for this,” you pleaded. “This exact same thing could have happened to me.”

“But it didn’t,” he said shakily. “It happened while I was watching her. You trusted me to keep her safe and I couldn’t do it,” his words broke off in a sob.

You tightened your arms around him. “Harry, you couldn’t have known. She’s eaten them before, and everything was totally fine. This isn’t your fault.”

“No, but it is!” He said, pulling away. “I fed them to her. I gave her something bad. I basically poisoned her. I can’t- I can’t watch her again. You can’t leave me alone with her again,” he said, getting the same desperate look on his face from earlier.

“Harry, wait,” you said, grabbing his arms so he couldn’t step farther away. “What if it happened to me? What if you had gone shopping and I had been here with her? What if I gave her the strawberries and I was blaming myself? What would you say?”

“I would tell you it wasn’t your fault and that you were a wonderful mother,” he said quietly, looking at the floor.

“Exactly,” you said, leaning in to meet his eyes. “You are an amazing father, H. You’re so good with her, and she loves you. One bad day doesn’t mean you’re just suddenly not a good dad anymore.”

He exhaled, pulling you back into his arms. You listened to his heart pounding as he breathed in and out shakily.

After a few minutes, you pulled back to look at him.

“Think we can go to sleep now? Stevie knocked out pretty fast, you must be tired too,” you smiled.

“Yeah, I am,” he laughed. “Emotional trauma is exhausting.”

He fell onto the bed, pulling you down with him. You both giggled, shushing each other when you remembered there was a baby sleeping next to you.

He pulled you close, tucking the blankets around you.

“Goodnight, my lovely wife,” he murmured.

“Goodnight, my lovely husband.”

[writing-gifts]

both sides of the viewfinder chp. 1

adult film star!bruno x afab!reader  (they are also gn)

this is 18+ content

summary:  Bruno's interested in you and you're interested in him. It's only a matter of time.

chapter 1 || chapter 2 || chapter 3 || chapter 4

------

A/N: okay so this is gonna be 3 chapters. the last chapter’s smut, but there’s pretty suggestive stuff happening in the 2nd chapter

i did research for this and wanted to try to make it more on the realistic side but there's always the chance that i messed up somewhere, so if you wanna point it out go ahead. it'll be good to know for the future!

------

This wasn't your first time filming for sex work but you felt a little out of your element. The studio that recently hired you was much bigger than what you were used to and considering that you were mainly doing freelance work before, this made everything feel much more professional and serious. Their work had to be highly produced.

"--We aren’t super strict about that, but you should definitely tell me before you go anywhere."

Right now, you were being given a quick tour by one of the people you'd be working with--the Director of Photography. Jocelyn was pretty much your manager and would be giving you most of the orders.

You continue to follow behind her as she continues to show you around. But you couldn't help eyeing the high quality lights and cameras you pass as she talked though. The equipment must have been worth a lot.

Once she has finished showing you around, she leads you back to the set filled with the crew that you passed earlier.

You listen closely as she goes over the details of the film.

"This will be the room where the main scene will take place. Today we will have you operating one of the stationary cameras, but since you’ve done stuff like this before I decided to let you do it without someone breathing down your neck. Just follow my orders."

You like the woman already. "Thank you."

"The shoot will start in--" she checks her watch, "--about an hour. Today is just filming for you but you know you’ll be doubling up as a runner when necessary. We might also have you help with other tasks while you work here too."

You nod to show you understand.

She smiles, "If you have any questions don't be afraid to ask me or any of your co-workers. Try to avoid asking the director though…."

-------

You adjust the headphones on your head as you stand in front of the camera you'd be in charge of today.

Working it should be simple enough since you didn't have to actually move. You just needed to make sure it stayed in focus so they had more options when it came to angles.

About 10 minutes later, the two actors starring today show up dressed in fairly nice clothes that they wouldn't be wearing for too long. One of them seemed quite friendly with everyone. He must be pretty popular you think.

Before you can recede to your thoughts, you recognize him.

Is that Bruno Bucciarati?

You quickly confirm that it is and turn your body away from him and towards the camera, as if doing that would hide you. You weren't necessarily a stan but you did follow him on social media. And perhaps you did subscribe to his OnlyFans. And there's a good chance you paid money for some of his work.

It wasn't your fault that he was one of the few male stars you found attractive!

You shake your head. This was work. Don't get starstruck.

Luckily, it doesn't take you long to get distracted with the camera. You rarely get to operate such expensive equipment like this so you find yourself looking at all it had to offer.

While you neglect socializing with the people you would be working with from now on, someone comes up to you.

"You look so focused."

Your eyes widen from the sudden voice and you pull down your headphones as you look to the side. "Oh sorry--" When you see who it is the rest of your statement dies in your throat.

However, Bruno isn't deterred by your abrupt stop. "You must be the new camera person."

You stare a second too long before nodding.

He holds out a hand and you have to calm your shaking one before reaching out and grabbing his. His hand was really warm.

“Nice to meet you, my name's Bruno Bucciarati."

"I'm ____. I've actually seen some of your work before! You really are as handsome as in the videos."

Even though you're straight-faced, you were regretting what you just said. It was a simple compliment but what if it was too much? His looks did astound you though, there was no denying it. And you really didn't understand how he managed to pull off that haircut.

You smile to ease the tension within yourself and Bruno returns it. Whether it was genuine or out of politeness you didn't know, but it helps you relax.

"Thank you," he says.

“Okay everyone get in your damn places! We’ll be starting soon!”

Your brows raise at the director’s choice of words.

Bruno turns back to you. "Well, let's do our best to get through this."

You nod and watch him walk towards the bed where his co-star is waiting, and the director immediately starts going over what he wants the two of them to do once he’s there.

You decide to do a quick second check on your camera to make sure everything is still working properly before waiting patiently for the director to start.

------

Between some cuts and breaks, filming’s done about 6 hours later. You’d been informed about the typical work time so you weren't surprised. The porn from this studio was highly produced, with a few “amateur” looking works thrown in, so it was the norm. But this was the longest you had worked on one film. So depending on how particular the director was, you would need to be prepared to do at least several hours of filming when behind the camera.

You rub your eyes. It's only 4 pm but you're yearning for your bed. You could only imagine how tired the actors were.

Right after you turn off the camera, Jocelyn calls you over.

"You did well today and looks like you don't need any serious training. Good job!" she praises.

You guessed you passed the new hire "test". That gave you a bit of an energy boost and you can't help the smile on your face.

While you remove the camera from its tripod, you begin to retreat to your mind. And of course, your mind wanders to a certain actor.

Bruno was good at what he did. Really good. And the other actor seemed to genuinely enjoy working with him too. For a second, you wonder what it's like.

You glance up and accidentally make eye contact with a now fully clothed Bruno. The man walks towards you and even though you had watched him just have sex for multiple hours, you feel nervous.

“What’s up?” you ask when he's close enough.

"Nothing. I like to check up on newcomers, but you must have worked in this field for a while since they usually tend to have some hang ups."

"Uh yea. I've been doing stuff like this for awhile. Good work today by the way."

"Same with you. It was long but things went as smoothly as they could."

You nod in agreement and finish folding up the tripod. “They did, but honestly that one position you were in looked super uncomfortable! Is your back okay?”

The man laughs. “I'll be fine. That was pretty tame to be fair.”

“Wow, you must be super fit or flexible then...” You notice your coworkers walking off with equipment and decide its best to end the conversation so you can follow them. "Oh, I need to put away this stuff. Thanks for checking up on me though!"

Bruno smiles at you and you scurry off with the camera and the tripod.

-----

You'd been here a week so far. Each day varied with things to do and you never really knew what you'd exactly be working on until you got to the studio.

For today you had a list of various tasks but the first one was conducting a pre-shoot interview with the actors for the porn being shot in an hour.

You look through the viewfinder at the two men sitting on the couch. You were already recording but the interview hadn't started just yet.

“It’s been awhile since I've done an interview so bear with me...” you mumble while going over the questions in your head.

“No pressure ____,” Bruno says.

The man doesn't seem bothered but Prosciutto, on the other hand, isn’t as laid back.

“You should at least have a list of questions prepared,” the blonde says.

"Yep right here!" You pull out a piece of paper from your pocket. From the list you could tell this collaboration had been long requested by their fans.

“I did my best to remember it but just in case…” You place the paper on a surface out of view.

You readjust the camera on your shoulder before speaking again. “Okay, let's start with names you say.”

You focus the camera on Bruno. You wish you had a tripod, but they were insistent on having you walk around with the damn thing to make it feel more “personal”.

"I’m Bruno Bucciarati."

You then turn the camera to focus on Prosciutto.

"I’m Prosciutto."

“So I know this is the first time you both are working together. How are we feeling?”

Bruno smiles. “I'm feeling pretty good and ready to work. How about you, Prosciutto?”

“Pretty much how I do before any shoot.”

“And what's that?” you ask.

Prosciutto crosses his arms. “Mostly relaxed but looking forward to it of course.”

"That's good. I know it'll be tiring filming and from how highly requested this seems to be, the director's going to want this to be perfect. But I'm hoping you guys still have fun."

"I'm sure we will, but I still don't know why so many people wanted us to work together," Prosciutto says.

Bruno nods. "Agreed. I feel like we’ve rarely interacted until now."

"Well people like seeing attractive people together. And I've actually seen fancams of you two interacting on Twitter. It's pretty entertaining!"

“You search those up?” Bruno asks.

“No, they just show up on my timeline sometimes.”

“...So you're a fan of Bruno then?” You weren't sure why but you sense a bit of judgement coming from Prosciutto.

"A little, but let's move on." You take a peek at the paper. "So who’s receiving and who’s catching?"

You raise a brow at how the question’s phrased.

Bruno looks at Prosciutto. “Don't you think we should let the film speak for itself.”

The blonde hums in agreement. “If they need to know so badly, they can skip ahead.”

“True. I think either way would be fun to watch though,” you say.

“Definitely. You should let me know what you think later.” Bruno says.

You don't mean to smile but it's already happening. "Sure."

“You're real unprofessional flirting with the camera person in the middle of an interview,” Prosciutto chides.

“It's just some banter. Are you jealous?”

Prosciutto tsks at Bruno's statement.

You shake your head deciding not to acknowledge those comments. The editor would have to cut out that bit. The two seemed to get along well enough for work but you had a feeling they would get on each other's nerves if they stayed together too long.

“Okay so this is definitely a good question to ask next. What do you guys like about each other? Either personality or physical wise."

Prosciutto glances at Bruno before speaking. “I can admit that the man has a nice….physique.”

You grin. "You sound like I'm putting a gun to your head."

The man fixes you with a very unamused look but you continue on smiling.

"What about you Bruno?" you ask.

“Well he has an attractive face and body, of course. His stubbornness is enjoyable at times too.”

“Stubbornness?”

Prosciutto seems to have the same question as you because he looks at Bruno for his explanation.

“Yes it's a good trait to have in certain situations.” Bruno returns the blonde’s stare. “It'll also make seeing him unravel much more interesting.”

The two of them are now looking at each other very intently and you feel like you should leave the room. But you need to finish the interview.

“Nice...so this is the last question. Is there anything specific you two are looking forward to?”

Fortunately, the two of them can still hear you and respond.

Bruno hums, “I suppose it's been awhile since I've given a blowjob, so there's that.”

"...And I'm looking forward to receiving one."

You let out a chuckle, “Okay, Prosciutto I see what you're about.” You quickly skim the list of interview questions. "Well looks like that's it! You guys ready to go?”

They both give you their positive answers.

“Then let's get you guys ready for the shoot."

Bruno smiles while Prosciutto's face stays neutral.

After that statement you stop recording.

“Okay, nice job guys!” You look at the clock on the wall. “That went pretty fast. So you can go ahead and head to the set.”

Prosciutto nods and exits the room but Bruno stays behind.

“Are you going to be helping film for the shoot?” he asks.

You gently place the camera down on the table where you left the paper.

“No, I have to go out and buy some things for something being filmed later this week. And then I have to go do some other stuff around the studio…” You laugh, “They really have me running around!”

Bruno looks slightly concerned. “You’d prefer to stay behind the camera the whole time right?”

“Yep but that's okay. I already knew what I was getting into, and I get paid better pretty well for it.” You look back up at the clock. “I’ll definitely be back for the interview after filming though so I should see you then.”

Bruno nods. "Okay, good luck with your errands."

----

By the end of the day, you're exhausted. Your list of tasks wasn't hard, you just ended up moving a lot more than you planned. You even almost forgot to take your break in your hustle.

When you return to your apartment, you eat something and take a quick shower before dressing up for bed. And once you're snuggled up in your covers, you decide to check your Twitter to see if anything interesting has happened.

While scrolling through the random posts retweeted throughout the day, you happen upon a pretty suggestive picture of Bruno in lingerie. He posted it not too long ago.

Nice.

You click on his icon to check his page to see if there’s anything else new, and under his username notice the words follows you.

Your eyes widen and you double check and refresh to make sure you're not seeing things. You go into your notifications and see that he followed you a couple hours ago. You really weren't sure what to do. It would be weird if you messaged him, right?

You take a deep breath and decide to take the chance. Bruno probably got hundreds of messages so it shouldn't be a big deal.

hi, i saw that you followed me. just making sure you didn't make a mistake lol

Before you can overthink it you send the message. After that you go back to his page and like and retweet the lingerie photo, but you still need a distraction so you wouldn't obsess over a possible reply. When you're thinking of getting out of bed, a message from Bruno pops up.

You quickly open it to see the full message.

No mistakes here. I searched you up and saw that you already followed me so I wanted to follow back.

It's not the first time you've been followed by pornstars or coworkers you worked with, but it was honestly still rare. And something about it being Bruno made your heart beat faster. You momentarily think about everything you retweeted in the last hour, before sending a message back.

oh okay, thx! i'll try not to bother you too much, you probably get a lot of messages

A few seconds pass before you get another reply.

Not necessarily. I have DMs off for people I don't follow. I love my fans but they can get...rowdy. Either way, you can message me whenever you want.

Wow, what would you even talk about with Bruno outside of work related things...

oh, that makes sense. well i guess i’ll take you up on the offer ^^

You see the three dots going for a while before another message appears.

I saw you retweeted my picture.

Your heart skips a beat.

oh god, now i feel embarrassed all of a sudden!

No don’t be. I'm glad you like it.

You smile to yourself.

yea, you look really good in lingerie ...you look good in anything tbh or without anything lmao

You feel like you're about to say something really embarrassing if this conversation continues and quickly type up another message before he can respond.

i’m really tired so i’m going to get ready for bed

The three dots disappear for a moment before showing up again.

Shame, I would have liked talking more. But I understand, you looked really exhausted during the post interview.

yea i was but it’s no biggie and we can message later ❤

Okay then, sleep well ____.

good night 😴

You close out of the app after that and honestly, that went way better than you were expecting.

[pips-fics]

ask by @writercirrus / @sickiecirrus (be sure to check out her fantastic writing!) : Hi!! My favorite fic is the one where Han gets sick and calls Channie who runs over and helps him. Idk why but I keep rereading. Your stories are always well written!! I’ve never been like LET ME EDIT THIS PLZZZ like I do with most other fanfics!! I do have a request... Channie gets the stomach flu and doesn’t want to be babied or fussed over but finally gives in and lets his members take care of him (idk why but I feel like Channie would be like that)

big thanks to madeline once again for the lovely title! <3 and thank you to cirrus for the kind words and their request, it was a lot of fun to write :D

tw: vomiting, insomnia, overworking

take a rest, hyung –––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

“you are not allowed to leave your bed today.” minho had taken one look at chan and decided to lay down the law. behind him, felix cackled.

“chan stay in bed challenge!”

chan groaned. that was the thing about these two: he couldn’t say no to either of them. felix because saying no to him felt like bullying a small child; minho because he already knew chan disagreed and clearly did not care. chan tried anyway.

“i’m fine. you’re both just overreacting.”

jisung poked his head through the doorway, looking skeptical. “who’s overreacting?”

hope blossomed in chan’s chest. jisung would understand. “sungie! i just want to work on that one b-side, just for a bit. non strenuous activity, y’know?”

“oh,” jisung said, giving chan a quick once-over. “no.”

“what?”

“yeah, hyung, you look like you’re going to pass out. don’t move.”

it took all of chan’s willpower not to throw something in a fit of rage when jisung came over to check his temperature with the back of his hand. or it would have, except chan did feel slightly like he might pass out, actually. jisung whistled, and chan pretended like his head didn’t feel like it was splitting down the middle.

“he’s pretty warm,” jisung said to minho, who nodded as if he already knew that.

“well he’s been working non-stop recently and hardly sleeping,” hyunjin said from the doorway, quickly catching on to the situation. he took about three strides and crossed the room to press a glass of cool water to chan’s lips. chan sputtered.

“what is wrong with you all? i’m not dying, i can take care of myself.”

hyunjin looked at him skeptically. “you literally can’t, that’s the point i just made.”

rather than respond to that, chan got up and pushed his way through the small crowd that had begun to encircle him. he walked to the kitchen and then, without preamble, vomited into the sink.

after three quick, powerful, and unpleasant expulsion of his stomach contents, chan wiped his mouth on the back of his hand and turned to see seungmin starring at him, open mouthed. across the room, jeongin choked on the water he’d been drinking. chan frowned.

“what? i feel better now,” he explained. seungmin’s mouth snapped shut, then opened again.

“what. the fuck.”

chan soon found himself being marched back to his bedroom by the two youngest members of stray kids.

he wasn’t stupid. chan understood that the other boys cared about him, and that they were just trying to help. he knew it would make them feel better, so he resigned himself to allowing their fussing - just temporarily.

chan would admit that the cool towels jisung kept putting on his forehead felt nice, and it was very sweet that the boys ensured someone was with him at all times - to prevent boredom, seungmin said. but then, that was the problem - chan wouldn’t be bored if they would just let him work, but as soon as he took his laptop out, minho confiscated it.

“this is so unfair,” chan complained. minho just smirked at him, seeming to take great pleasure in chan’s annoyance.

“you can thank me later.”

chan grumbled under his breath, but thought smugly that the joke was on minho, in the end. chan had his phone hidden under the covers, so he could work on writing lyrics using that. heck, he could even plug in his AirPods an work on producing with a mobile app, if he really wanted to. chan smiled slightly, feeling clever, and then sprinted to the bathroom.

despite minho’s annoying tough love, there was something soothing about having someone there to brush chan’s sweaty bangs away from his forehead as he emptied his stomach. this time the nausea didn’t pass quite a quickly, or as completely - even after a ten minute camp out filled with productive heaving, chan still felt woozy, and he couldn’t stop his hands from shaking. he hid them in his hoodie pockets as minho guided him back to the bedroom.

things were quieter after that. most of the younger guys were at the studio practicing the dance moves for their upcoming music video, and changbin, who chan hadn’t seen all day, was probably cooped up with jisung trying to pick up the slack from chan’s day off. chan was genuinely exhausted and was tempted to actually rest, but sleep didn’t come easily with guilt hanging over him. no matter how much he told himself it was better in the long run, the knowledge that someone had to do whatever he didn’t have time for was eating chan up inside.

so, after trying and failing to sleep for about ten minutes, chan slid under the covers and got to work on his phone. he tried to be kind to himself, but he wasn’t making much progress even while he was working on stuff.

when changbin barged in and suddenly threw chan’s covers off to snatch his phone out of his hands, chan was less than pleased.

“changbin! what the fuck!”

“hyung, you’re supposed to be sleeping!” changbin said, annoyance lining his voice.

“what, did jisung tell you that?” chan felt angry tears spring to his eyes and quickly wiped them away, but he saw changbin soften.

“of course he did,” changbin said. “he’s so worried about you that he can’t get a single thing done, hyung. so please, just rest? at least let your eyes take a break from your screens?”

in the corner of the room, minho checked his watch - or the place on his wrist where the would’ve been a watch, if he’d owned one. “welp, looks like my shift is up. changbin, babysitting duty is all yours.”

changbin frowned, but took minho’s place silently. chan refused to meet his eyes.

“hyung?”

“just leave me alone, changbin, please.”

it wasn’t anger, but it came off that way. it was shame.

the thought that chan had thrown jisung off, too, and now changbin was here taking care of him - chan hated it. they were all going to get in trouble for slacking at this rate, and it was chan’s fault about three times over. truthfully, chan felt like crying, but that would only make things worse, so instead he pulled out out a notebook. on accident, he met changbin’s disapproving gaze. chan’s voice came out sounding very small.

“bin, please.”

arms crossed, changbin breathed a sigh through his nose. he didn’t say anything, but his eyes slid away from chan and he clear didn’t intend to stop him.

the guilt settled heavier than ever in chan’s already upset stomach, but he hoped making some progress on work would help him feel better. unfortunately, it wasn’t that easy. with every minute that passed, chan felt worse. he jotted down some notes, just vague ideas but most of his energy was being expended just trying to keep his stomach contents in place. by the time he admitted to himself that he was fighting a losing battle, chan could hardly move without risking making a mess.

he set his notes aside, and put a trembling hand over his mouth. his attempt to get changbin’s attention was cut off before he could even say “bin,” and it was all chan could do to swallow the sick in his throat back down. he wasn’t entirely successful, but thankfully, changbin had sprung up and handed chan the plastic bowl minho had left by his bedside.

things still weren’t pretty. chan had held the sick in for so long that once he stopped fighting it, it spewed forth with so much force that it splattered the bed - and chan’s notes. changbin scrambled to save them, but chan waved him off.

“throw them out,” he said dejectedly, right before coughing himself into another vomiting spell. at this point, chan was beyond exhausted, and the room wouldn’t stop spinning before his eyes. when he squeezed them shut, he felt even sicker and retched hollowly until changbin forced him to drink some water that chan threw up again almost immediately. chills ran through him so viciously that chan worried he might lose his grip on the bowl, and was relieved when someone else’s hands appeared to keep it steady.

by the time he was done, chan wanted absolutely nothing more than a hug. when he looked up with tears in his eyes, chan found that jeongin was the one holding the bowl and froze.

“are you all back?” it was one thing, he thought, to inconvenience changbin alone - he and changbin had been through thick and thin together, and despite chan’s guilt, he knew changbin would brush this off soon enough. he wasn’t as sure about the other members of his team. “are you okay?” chan asked, on second thought.

jeongin scoffed. “hyung, can you please stop worrying about the rest of us for one second and worry about yourself? or better yet, just let us do the worrying for you, for once.”

chan sniffled, and felt tears prick his eyes. his boys had really matured. the realization took the breath out of him for a second, and the tension went with it. he flopped back onto his pillows and nodded.

“yeah, alright, innie, i’ll give it a go.”

after that, it was a flurry of activity. tasks, apparently, had been delegated by seungmin, so changbin cleaned out the bucket, hyunjin grabbed more water, minho put the blankets in the wash, jisung brought new blankets, jeongin cleaned chan up - and felix was on immediate snuggle duty. as the others finished their tasks, they joined, one by one, until the bed was a pile of the people chan treasured most.

in the end, it was easier than he’d thought, falling asleep surrounded by love.

——

a very quick reader survey (specific to this fic!) to make me smile and celebrate hyunjin <3

——

feel free to send more asks! / rules

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Love is a Bundle of Contradictions.

This artwork was a piece I commissioned from @shimmeryspark​!

... There is no explanation for this other than my friends encouraged me to write Valentine’s Day Raven and Jade fluff, since the main saga is a bit lot of angst right now. (Special thanks to @twstpasta since they let me borrow their twstsona for plot reasons :9)

Imagine this...

“You WHAT?!”

“Ehehe~ Sorry...!! I guess I went and made a bad decision, heehoo~” Mac stuck out their tongue and lightly bonked their own head with a fist. “Silly me~”

“Making a deal with Azul is the very definition of a bad decision,” Raven groaned, slapping a hand to her face. “I... I cannot believe you. Dare I ask what the conditions were?”

“I gave him my taste buds! He said he’ll give them back if you help out with stocking up on supplies for the Mostro Lounge.”

“That’s... suspiciously simple. And you really just handed over your taste buds just like that? You can’t taste your beloved cheese anymore.”

“I know!” Mac pouted. “It’s so sad, so you’ll help this rataroni out, right?”

“I find it odd that Azul is demanding my assistance, seeing as how I am not the one that made the deal with him to begin with. However... I cannot turn my back on a friend in need. I will lend you a helping wing—er, hand.”

“Sweet, sweet!!” Mac clasped Raven’s hands happily. “Just remember to show up this Sunday afternoon. Meet up’s in the town square. Oh, and be sure to wear something cute!”

“Something cute? Why would...”

“It’s part of the deal—so you just gotta, okay? That’s what Azul said!” Mac paused, before adding, “Oh, oh! And bring some homemade choco in a heart-shaped box!! That’s another contract condition!”

“Oh... O-Okay...?”

Raven leaned back against a lamp post, anxiously winding a finger around the string of small pearls at her collarbone. In her other hand was a bag, and in that bag, a heart-shaped box of homemade chocolates—just as Mac had told her.

A silver heart-shaped charm dangled from the necklace, lying still against her real hammering heart. Rarely did she venture out into the local town—and, standing there by her lonesome, the raven felt out of place and awkward.

An addendum to a story that had already been penned.

She watched as her silver charm caught a wink of sun and guided the light down its curve. Reflected back in the charm’s surface was the raven herself.

Today, her inky hair was cast up in a high pigtail and secured with a cobalt ribbon. She had traded her usual outfit for a pale blouse with billowy puff sleeves, white stockings, and a high waist skirt in a plaid pattern—cobalt, like her ribbons.

I hope this satisfies the conditions of the deal.

Raven checked the time on her phone; any minute now, Azul would be showing up, and they’d get this over with. Then she could return to her attic to roost, and Mac could return to feasting on cheese and inhaling poison—

“Oya. Do my eyes deceive me, or is that you, Miss Raven?” a silken cadence called out to her, rising above the hustle and bustle of the town.

“... You,” she responded flatly, narrowing her eyes at a certain eel as he parted from a crowd.

Ah.

Jade, too, had abandoned his typical uniform in favor of casual comfort. He wore a pair of dress pants and a grey turtleneck—and over it was a brown trench coat, unbuttoned to show off how snugly that sweater fit against his lean, muscular body.

Raven squinted. His earring was slightly different today as well. Rather than three diamond shaped sturgeon scales dangling from his ear, there were heart shaped ones. Blue and glassy, like the calm sea after a storm.

His hands were polite folded behind his back... hiding something. Whatever that something was, petals of pink, red, and yellow-orange were poking out.

If she didn’t know any better, she would have said he looked handsome—and innocent—enough. But she did know better.

“What are you doing here?” Raven demanded, no longer playing with her necklace. Her hands went to her sides, curling into balls.

“Fufufu. The town is a public space. I am free to come and go as I please, the very same as you.” Jade tilted his head to one side. “Although today, I am here on an errand. The Mostro Lounge is short on centerpiece supplies, you see. I have been sent to restock.”

“What a coincidence. I’m also here to help the Mostro Lounge restock,” Raven said, a bit of bitterness slipping into her voice, “as per a contract.”

Jade attempted to appear sympathetic—but he allowed a cruel chuckle to escape him. “I see now. I was not aware that you were the one indebted to Octavinelle, Miss Raven. Had I known sooner, I would not have hesitated to summon you to fill in for Kon-san’s morning shift.”

“I’m not a waitress for you to order around.” Raven jutted out her chin defiantly. “I’m here strictly on business, so if you would kindly leave me be...!!”

“I believe you said you had to assist the Mostro Lounge. Would it not be prudent, then, to go about tending to that duty rather than standing about and looking like a lost lamb?”

“Sh-Shut up! It’s not my fault that Azul is running late...!!”

“You were waiting for Azul?” Jade said, his brows pinching together briefly. “You are terribly mistaken. It is not Azul who is assisting you with the restock, but myself.”

“... Beg pardon?”

Wear something cute, bring homemade chocolates, Mac had said. And it has to be you, Raven, not me! But why? Slowly, slowly... The pieces of the puzzle fell into place.

A thought dawned on Raven:

I’ve definitely been tricked.

“Well!! That’s all fine and dandy, but I think I shall be on my way home now. I really must be having a chat with a friend of mine,” she babbled, turning on her heel. They’re going to be buried in tomato sauce when I get to them.

“How cruel of you to abandon those in need, Miss Raven. And to think that Mac-san shall be without their taste buds... and I, burdened with the task of restocking by my lonesome. What a tragic way to spend Valentine’s Day,” Jade exhaled deeply and wiped at an imaginary tear. “Shikushikushiku...”

Raven��s left eye twitched. “Don’t you paint me as the bad guy here...!!”

“Aren’t you?” Jade challenged, a smile still plastered on his face despite his mocking tone.

“Grrr...!!” She whipped around, thrusting an index finger at him. “Listen here... Leech!! The only reason I am even here was to help someone out of a contract your shady boss roped them into!”

“If you are as selfless and loving as you claim to be, then you should have no issues with shopping with me,” Jade countered smoothly. “After all, they say that actions speak louder than words.”

The little bird vibrated with irritation, her cheeks puffed out in a pout. Her stomach coiled tight, uneasiness brewing. As much as she hated to admit to it, he was right.

Raven clenched her teeth and sent a glare his way. “Fine...!! But I will be keeping an eye on you to ensure that there is no funny business!”

“Then by all means, ‘keep an eye on me’, and do not let your gaze stray for even a single moment,” Jade chuckled, somehow sneering through his smile. “I welcome it.”

The eel held out a hand to Raven. “We’d best not be separated while on our errand.”

She stared hesitantly. Her eyes flickered between his eyes and the hand he offered. Subtle changes in her expression occurred in rapid succession—the raising of her lids, the tremble to her lower lip, the tinge to her cheeks.

“... Yeah. We’d best not,” Raven finally agreed, her grip on her bag—the bag containing her chocolates—tightened. “Which is precisely why I will follow you at a safe distance.”

“Ah, but that would ruin the surprise.”

“What, the bouquet? You’re not exactly doing a masterful job of hiding it.”

“Nor are you doing well to hide your little surprise, Miss Raven.”

“I was deceived. This chocolate is not meant for you.”

“I didn’t say that it was, now did I?”

“... I’m going to eat them myself, then. That’ll show you!”

“Do with it what you wish, for selfish purposes or not,” Jade laughed, revealing his bouquet—all the colors of the setting sun. “These flowers, on the other hand, are meant to be gifted...”

He pushed the bouquet toward Raven. Up close, the flowers seemed even more vibrant and beautiful. Their warm hues enveloping the raven, enchanting her senses. Mesmerized, she reached out to accept the flowers—when Jade suddenly clicked his tongue and pulled them away.

“But alas—not to you,” he teased, pressing a finger to his lips. “Do try to keep up with me now, Miss Raven.”

Jade turned and dove into a sea of townspeople, leaving a trail of sunset-colored petals in his wake. And, like the fool that she was, a fuming raven stormed after him—chocolates still in hand. Heart quivering.

Terrariums—the flowers were meant for terrariums all along.

Jade had taken his sweet time leading her down a winding path and to an art supply store tucked away in a corner, and even longer to observe the shape and feel of each terrarium container. Spherical, cuboidal, prismatic... Holding up the bouquet every so often to compare how the flowers would look in each.

In the end, he had gone wild with his purchases, electing to buy a selection of shapes, along with other supplies—just to keep himself amused. Jade had paid with a platinum card embossed with Octavinelle’s logo. Mostro Lounge Master Cash Card, it read. Azul’s property; do not steal! Sign the loaning form if you must borrow.

It was all for the terrariums, for business as usual.

I should have realized sooner. Stupid, stupid, Raven scolded herself.

She grunted, struggling to carry the bagful of terrarium supplies that Jade had saddled her with, while he carried one of his own without any trouble. The eel cast her a mocking glance over his shoulder.

“Are you in need of a break, Miss Raven?”

Bite me, she wanted to snap back—but a bark of pain shot up her arms, silencing her defiance. “... M-Maybe.”

He sighed in an exaggerated fashion. “Very well. I see a café up ahead. We can rest there for a few moments, though it may require the purchase of a food item if we wish for a table.”

“Sounds peachy.”

Together, they swept through the café doors. The duo was immediately greeted by the smell of sugar and the hum of the other patrons, many of them couples.

Raven stiffened at the sight, turning a deep shade of red. Suddenly, she was very, very aware of how she—and Jade—looked.

“I think I changed my mi—“ Raven was cut off when he grasped her hand and held fast. She jolted back, her skin turning clammy. “Eeep! Wh-What are you...”

“Table for two,” Jade requested of an employee. “We do not intend to stay for a large meal, so just an ice-cream parfait will do.”

“Certainly, sir. Right this way.” The server quickly seated them, and with a bow, departed to retrieve their order.

“... You can let go of my hand now,” Raven hissed, attempting to free herself. To no avail, initially. She tugged again, and finally broke free, aggressively rubbing at her hand to ward off the residual eel cooties.

Jade chuckled, tucking his strand of black hair behind his ear. His earring glimmered in the afternoon sunlight pouring in through wide windows. “Play along. You are aware that today is Valentine’s Day, yes?”

“Yes, but I do not understand what that has to do with... physical contact, especially seeing as how we are not engaged in that kind of a relationship.”

“It is simple.” He laced his fingers together, resting his chin on them. With the most serene of smiles, Jade purred, “We should take advantage of the couple discounts being offered at eateries such as this. An excellent way to save on spending, especially after that particularly large purchase made on the Mostro Lounge’s coin.”

“You’re a shrewd one.”

“Why, thank you.”

Raven’s hands curled in her lap. Her lips pursed, she found her gaze trained on the white lace of the tablecloth, rather than on her dining companion.

Time and time again, she has been tricked today, told white lies. Teased and deceived. It was simply how he was—and though it did irk her in some ways, it also never made a moment dull.

Hot and cold. Push and pull. Bitter and sweet. That was Jade Leech.

“Your parfait is here!!” The server from before popped up in her periphery, startling the raven from her thoughts. They set it down and stepped back. “Here you are—enjoy your date!”

“Thank you. We certainly will,” Jade reacted before Raven could and dismissed the server with a wave. “... Well, let’s dig in.”

“You didn’t correct them.”

“We won’t get the discount if they don’t believe this farce,” he replied calmly, nudging the parfait and a spoon toward her. “Now then, less talking and more eating. You need your strength if you plan on helping me haul all the supplies back to campus.”

She let out a huff, but dug her spoon into a frozen mound. The parfait was massive, composed of several scoops of pink, blue, and green ice-cream, flanked by chocolate wafer bars. With a smattering of sprinkles, a crown of whipped cream, and a maraschino cherry on top, the dessert looked absolutely picture perfect.

Raven steadily brought a spoonful of pink goop into her mouth, allowing a sweet bubblegum flavor to spread across her tongue. Her eyes cut to Jade, who had not bothered to sample any for himself. He smiled back, gaze half-lidded as if recalling a fond memory.

“Have some, too. I feel weird eating it alone—and you must be hungry too. I know how big your appetite is.” Raven pushed the parfait glass toward him.

“If you insist.”

The head of his spoon sunk into a green scoop with shards of chocolate chip weaved throughout. It pulled away cleanly with a large mound, which was soon consumed. Then another bite, and a third, a fourth... Before Raven knew it, a good third of the parfait was missing.

Jade patted his mouth with a napkin, eyeing her expectantly.

“Are you still hungry?” Raven asked, eyebrows raising. She retrieved a scoop of blue this time—vaguely flavored like a medley of fruits.

“Perhaps... though I do not plan on taking more of the parfait for myself. Were I to, there would be none left for you.”

The fruit seemed to sour in her mouth. It was true that she was hungry, yes—but at the same time, she did not wish for Jade to be left dissatisfied.

She frowned, setting her spoon down and reaching into her bag. Seconds later, she produced a heart-shaped package and shoved it at him.

“Here, chocolates. They’re yours now, since I have no other use for them,” Raven mumbled insistently. “You can eat them now, or save them for later. Just hurry up and take them before I change my mind.”

“Oya, it is rather bold to profess your undying love to me in such a public space.” Jade teased, chuckling lightly into his hand.

“B-Be quiet...!! We... We can’t get that couple’s discount if one of us passes out from hunger.”

“Fufufu. I doubt that either of us would.” His mismatched eyes twinkled with mirth. “... Thank you for the sweets, Miss Raven. I will be certain to savor every last bite.”

The town became even busier in the late afternoon, filing with the sound of street performers and spectators. A monkey in a vest and a small hat barreled by Raven’s feet as she and Jade exited the café, nearly causing her to double over. A chorus of children’s laughter chased after the monkey—and she, the raven, stumbled on her recovery.

“Perhaps now would be a good time to reconsider my offer,” Jade suggested, a hand on the small of her back to support her. That same hand trailed around and tickled the back of hers. “It would be a shame if we lost one another in this crowd.”

Raven regarded him with a pointed look, but slipped her hand into his without further resistance. “... Only because I have to.”

“Of course, of course.”

Together, they braved the bustling streets.

A new world unfolded before Raven’s very eyes. Costumed performers of all kinds paraded about, garnering attention from passerbys. Some tossed confetti and candies, others brandished instruments. Brass, strings, percussion—all their notes floated up into the festive atmosphere.

There went a dancer, leaping like a lithe deer, limbs outstretched and the flowy fabric of their uniform like a curtain of smoke. And here was an artist perched on a stool, sketching the outline of a woman posed on a wooden crate. A young man jingled a tambourine, trying to catch coins in his cap.

A number of food carts patrolled the roads, calling out their wares. Crepes, sandwiches, sodas... Families, friends, and couples lining benches, exchanging bites.

Love was truly in the air and oozing out of every pore of the community.

Raven couldn’t keep her head still. She turned this way and that, trying to soak up every last sight and sound. Her golden eyes sparkled with wonder.

Jade, of course, took note. “Excited, are you?”

“It’s very different than Night Raven College,” she replied shyly. “Almost like a magic kingdom.”

“Magic kingdom? You can be rather melodramatic at times.”

“Yeah? So can you and Azul and Floyd, with all your fake tears...” Her wandering eyes caught something bright red as she spoke. “Oh...!! Look.”

Raven tugged on Jade’s hand, urging him to a halt. Her gaze was transfixed on a lamp post with a multitude of red strings. At the other ends of those ribbons were heart-shaped balloons, as red as blood.

His eyebrows pinched together in mocking sympathy. “You truly are fascinated by the simplest things. Is it true what they say? That ravens are attracted to shiny objects?”

Her mouth flew open to protest, but she was interrupted by a woman by the balloon-bearing lamp post “You there!! Sir with the earring and ma’am with the blue ribbon! Care for some balloons?”

“Er... What are they for?” Raven asked.

“For love, of course,” the woman laughed. “Today’s all about appreciating one another, right? This is my way of spreading love.”

She separated three balloons from her bundle and offered them with a flourish. Raven eagerly accepted them, staring up in wonder at their floating bodies.

“Oh, and one more thing!!” The woman produced a red ribbon from her jacket pocket and nodded at the duo. “Your pinkie fingers, please!”

Raven held out her hand as directed, letting the woman secure the ribbon in a neat little knot. The balloon bearer extended the length of the ribbon, glancing to Jade. Raven, too, looked at him expectantly. Jade expelled a quiet sigh and allowed the red ribbon to be tied to his pinkie.

“There you go!” the woman declared triumphantly. “You’re all set now! Enjoy the rest of your Valentine’s Day, folks!”

“Thank you!” Raven shouted over her shoulder—even as Jade started to lead her away. The woman waved and waved until she was out of sight.

“... It has been a while since I have seen you this enthusiastic,” Jade remarked with a glance to the balloons. “I do suppose it is a departure from the monotony of daily life, but to think that such little things bring this amount of joy...”

“It reminds me of a story a little birdie once told me,” Raven chirped with a small giggle. “The story of the Red Thread of Fate.”

“Oh?” Jade raised an eyebrow. “Do tell.”

“The Red Thread of Fate is said to connect ‘destined people’. It can tangle, twist, or stretch, but it can never break. From the moment you are born, you have an unseen thread flowing from your pinkie finger, tying your fate to that of the person on the other end,” Raven recited, her tone turning solemn—her storytelling voice.

“Someday,” she said, “you will cross paths with the one that shares your thread, and your lives will be forever changed by the encounter. It could be a meaningful battle between rivals, the loss of a loved one, the promise of marriage... but the course of their stories will never again be the same.”

“How sentimental. And what, pray tell, does this red thread of ours mean, Miss Raven?” Jade questioned, lifting his end of the ribbon—the crimson shining in the sunlight.

“How would I know? I’m not a god,” she huffed. “It’s just fun to imagine the possibilities.”

“It is, indeed. Even so, surely there must be one favored conclusion to the story of the Red Thread of Fate in that pretty little head of yours.” He brought a hand to his mouth, yanking Raven toward him.

She glanced up with a glare. “I’d have to have a bird brain to tell you that.”

“Is that not the duty of a storyteller? To stand on stage and tell the tale until the curtain closes. Your adoring audience awaits.”

“You’re being booted from the metaphorical theater before you get to hear or see the ending.”

“I would like to see you try.”

Jade slowed to a stop, Raven following suit. They were back in the town square, by the lamp post where they had met up. Ending where it had all begun.

He pulled out his phone and consulted the time. Jade unlocked his device, quickly wrote up a message, and tucked it away again. “I can take it from here.”

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely. Besides,” Jade cast a pitiful look at Raven’s trembling arms, “I doubt you would be able to haul those supplies the remainder of the way, and certainly not in an efficient manner.”

“... Then what was the point of stating in the contract that you needed a helping hand?”

“I am afraid that even I am not entirely privy as to Azul’s intentions,” he chuckled, gently prying a bag from her hands. “I will be certain to let Azul know that Mac-san’s end of the contract has been fulfilled.”

“Eh...? But—“

“You have our thanks for lending the Mostro Lounge your time. You are free to go now, Miss Raven. I’ve already summoned Floyd in your stead to assist me.”

“Th-The ribbon, you fool! I can’t leave if I’m still bound to you!”

“Oh? You don’t say.” His singsong held no concern whatsoever, only amusement.

“S-Stop playing dumb! You know very well what you are doing!!”

“You said it yourself, Miss Raven. Our lives have been forever changed since our encounter. There is no going back now.”

“Stop manipulating the narrative to suit your needs.”

“I haven’t the faintest clue what you mean. Jade smiled, feigning innocence. “You’ve resigned yourself to spending the rest of the day with me—at least until Floyd arrives to relieve you of your burden. Ah, but given his moodiness, who knows when that will be.”

“Just because your surname is Leech doesn’t mean you need to suck the life out of me like one,” Raven snapped. She reached for the red ribbon, intending to undo it—

—only to be met with a bouquet a second time. Flowers the color of the sunset, smelling like the drip of sunshine and a cut of meadow.

“For you—no strings attached this time.”

“Those are for the terrarium centerpieces.”

“I can easily replace them,” Jade insisted, “and I must repay you for your kind chocolate gift. Consider this... ‘favors for favors’, so that neither one of us is left indebted to the other.”

“... Alright. I’ll take them, but only because they might be useful for brewing some new inks.”

“I’m glad to see that you are being agreeable.” Jade slipped the flowers to her. “Take good care of them.”

Raven leaned against a lamp post, cradling the large bouquet in one arm. Her heart fluttered, and her limbs felt as light as air. Warm and floaty, like the balloons in her hand. 

Favors for favors—but it still counted as a gift from Jade, and that very thought sent her mind spiraling. She took a shaky breath, and focused on the confetti and laughter in the distance, the song and dance of the street performers.

Waiting and waiting for Floyd.

“Miss Raven.”

“What now? Haven’t you bullied me enough for today? Are you still not satisfied, you sadist?”

She dared to lift her eyes to meet Jade’s—and her heart stood still, for he looked back. His sharp eyes soft and shrouded by long lashes, his lips pulled into a tender smile.

“Contract or no, I always enjoy my time with you—I enjoyed today,” Jade murmured. “I hope that we are able to do this again sometime.”

“... Shut up. J-Just shut up already, i-it’s embarrassing listening to you speak...!!” She buried her head in the flowers, concealing her pink face. Still feeling floaty, like a balloon, high on happiness.

“Fufufu. Happy Valentine’s Day, Miss Raven.”

[alexismalfoy]

☕︎︎Her Plan☕︎︎

Summary: Draco loses the love of his life.

Warnings: Angst and death.

Draco Malfoy x Reader

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

3rd Person POV

There was nothing left.

Not for him.

The one he loved was gone and it was his fault.

They were perfect for each other. Everyone could see it. They liked the same things. She loved him and he loves her.

Notice hers is past tense.

Or that’s what he believes, there’s no way to tell now.

~~~~~

She wiped at his tears the night she saw the ink embedded into his skin. His pure skin. She kept it together for him.

She whispered reassuring phrases to him until he fell asleep with his head on her chest, tears still rolling down his cheeks and onto her button-up shirt that she had yet to change out of.

She was a ‘good guy’, yet she stuck with him.

She knew how the war would end, almost positive Harry and ‘the army’ would succeed.

So she made a plan. God how he missed her plans.

She talked to Harry and the others, explaining the situation. Though they weren’t a fan of Malfoy, they trusted her.

She knew Draco wouldn’t go through with his task, he knew it too.

She told this to Harry. Of course, he was skeptical but when he saw it for himself he let her words fully sink in.

“Even though I won’t be standing on your side I will still be on your side.”

~~~~~

Her and Draco would run away together. Harry would win and they would flee.

They would do what they’ve always wanted to do.

They'd get a small home, preferably by the sea.

She always said his eyes reminded her of the ocean.

They would go completely off the grid, visit their friends from time to time of course but it would be the two of them as a whole.

Together.

That was the plan.

~~~~~

When the day came Draco didn’t know whether he could be excited. He already felt guilty for the lives that would be inevitably lost.

He got a moment to look at her that morning. The sun hadn’t shined enough to make her stir awake.

She was breathtaking. Not only appearance-wise. Everything about her.

What did he do to deem himself worthy of such a lover?

~~~~~

She looked into every risk.

As I said before her plan was foolproof. She thought of everything…except herself.

As the war started and different colored beams shot out all around the sounds of screams filled the air.

He held her hand so tight that when she was hit he could barely tell.

That is until she went limp in his arms.

They had almost made it out.

He didn’t know what to think at first, stopping dead in his tracks and looking down at her.

Her eyes were still opened when he collapsed.

How could this have happened? How could a mere miss of a spell take away her life, his home?

She was liked on both sides. She wasn’t targeted.

It was an accident.

It should’ve been him.

He talked calmly at first, not being able to comprehend why his lover laid almost gone in his arms.

When his words turned into begs her hand rose slowly, shakily.

Her hand met his cheek as silent sobs wracked through his body.

She was on her last breath as she murmured the words that used to make everything feel alright.

“I love you.” She smiled.

She was gone.

And so was he.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hello love’s, this isn’t my Normal content but I was feeling kinda sad today so I thought I’d give you guys some angst. I’ve been meaning to for a while but I hope you liked it!

Taglist: @marrymetheonott @malfoysbiitch

(Contact me to be added to my taglist.)

[serendipityjxmn]

Chapter 11

TW: None

Words Count: 2.6k

Link to Masterlist

Link to Chapter 12

You think one day of rest was enough since you can walk perfectly well now without wincing. So you wake earlier than Jimin the next day, marvelling at his features for a few moments but also fighting the urge to punch him out of giving you sleeping pills so you could oversleep and not come to work.

But now that you’ve reached the office, you feel nervous. You don’t know how to face Minhyuk. You don’t know if you could even face him.

Luckily, you don’t see him at all throughout the morning. During lunch however, when you return to the office, you see him first before he does yet he just brushes right pass you. You feel relieved yet you can’t shake off the strange feeling.

And your hunch turns out to be right when Minhyuk starts being mean from the next encounter and forward. He gets angry at you for the smallest of reasons. He doesn’t quite look at you when he gives order and when you ask him to clarify things, sometimes he would glare at you. It also doesn’t help that as you get more nervous you tend to make more mistakes.

Work feels even more exhausting when you’re mentally stressed at workplace. You come home with a headache that one night.

As soon as you prepared Jimin’s dinner, you hunt for some medicines and brings it with you as you head towards the room at the end of the hallway which you’ve somehow turned into your small office area (and your husband doesn’t seem to mind so-). You sit yourself on the sofa and shifts through the documents. The expenses report from several departments submitted during today’s meeting aren’t due for review until Friday yet Minhyuk says he wants to see it first thing next morning. You know he’s just doing it to get back at you and he’d probably ended up stacking the files on his table untouched just like the last task which means you’re doing this for naught anyway but you don’t want to give him any chance of finding your fault so here you are.

Your head feels like spinning so you quickly gulp down the medicine and force yourself to start on your work. Half an hour into it though, you don’t realize when you had fallen asleep.

You wake up next day in your own bed, perfectly tucked in while Jimin sleeps soundly next to you. You sit up almost immediately.

You look at the sleeping figure next to you, his snores are very light, you note.

Unknowingly, you inch closer to his side. You’ve always loved his smell. He just smells like... him.

You’re pretty sure he tucked you in last night. Why does he pretend to be so harsh all the time if he actually cares for you?

Maybe it isn’t impossible to build a civil relationship with him. With your husband.

You stare at his features. You can’t deny it. Jimin’s really good looking. And this good looking man is your husband. Sometimes you still have trouble believing.

Your eyes fall to his lips. His plump pink lips looks very tempting. You briefly wonder if-

Don’t.

Don’t fall for him.

And at that exact moment, Jimin’s eyes shot open while simultaneously his hand grips your right hand that hovers over his face seconds ago tightly. You freeze completely, not moving a muscle because you know he’s doing it out of reflex and you don’t want to dwell on how he’s trained for that.

His stare at you is murderous and your hand move to retreat but he kept his grip vice like on your wrist.

And you could feel the intensity slowly rising between the both of you.

You could’ve sworn his face inches closer to you and you panic instantly so you back away and sit up. Without wasting another breath, you get up and disappear into the shower.

You panic at your desk. In light of this morning’s incident, finding yourself in your bed instead of the sofa as well the tense moments with Jimin, you weren’t in the right state of mind so you completely forgot about the report Minhyuk asks you to handle yesterday.

You gather your courage to tell Irene first.

“Ah the sales reports?” She says and you nod. “Mr. Park already handed it to me first thing this morning when he arrived. I went to see Mina just now and handed the reports to Mr. Kim as well.”

O...kay. You definitely don’t expect that but you can’t help but sigh in relief. Did Jimin take it last night when he finds you in the small library room?

“Wait. If you brought the files home last night, how does Mr. Park have it?” Irene narrows her eyes at you.

Shoot. “Um- I forgot I didn’t- I mean, I just realized I didn’t bring it home at all. My head was really spinning last night and I thought I brought it home, turns out I didn’t.” You fake a smile. “Perhaps Mr. Park saw it on my table.”

Irene huffed at your answer, perhaps contemplating whether to believe you or not. She doesn’t say anything after that.

You’re at Mina’s table, discussing with her about updates on meetings with R&D team as requested by your husband when Kim Minhyuk appears from his office room, storming at you with a furious look.

“Miss Y/N, what on earth do you think you’re doing?” He shouts at you, making everyone at the office look up and you feel small immediately. “Are you even doing your job?”

“I’m sorry Mr. Kim-“

“This!” He pushes a document towards you and you look down to see the sales report yesterday.

“Is there something wrong-“

“You fucking tell me.” He snarls. “Tell me, how on earth did you organize this? I don’t understand a single thing. Did you even do it?”

You remain silent. Because he’s right. You didn’t do it. But how can you say that? What would you say to him? That your husband, the president, the CEO arranged the report?

“I honestly have no idea if you’re coming for work or you’re just fucking around.” He hisses.

You literally hear the gasps from your office mate.

You draw a breath, trying to calm yourself to face Minhyuk. “I’m sorry, Mr. Kim if you’re not satisfied but-“

“Mr. Park.” Someone says. Your stomach lurch instantly.

Both you and Minhyuk look up. Your lung drops when you sight your husband standing few metres away, his hands in his pocket.

“Jimin.” Minhyuk addresses your husband.

Jimin’s eyes are on you and you look down immediately. Anxiety starts filling you up. Is he going to shout at you too?

He crosses the distance and stops short before you and Minhyuk.

“Minhyuk.” Jimin nods at him. “Do you mind if I borrow.. my wife for a moment?”

Everyone in the room gasps including you.

You stare up at him, eyes wide in shock. He wasn’t looking at you, he was smiling at Minhyuk although you know it’s entirely a facade.

You eyes flicker to Minhyuk. His expression is priceless. You’ve never seen him in a state more shock, what with all his constant smirk or flirty expression.

“Y-your wife?” He stutters.

Jimin steps closer to you then place his hand around your waist, pulling you flush against him that earns another gasp around the room. “My wife,” he reconfirms. Then towards you, he smiles briefly before he pulls you with him and leaves you at your desk before you could say anything as he walks back towards his office.

You’ve no idea what to say.

Everyone knows you’re his wife now.

And you’ve never felt so guilty towards Jimin.

Irene had never been this loud before, you think.

“Like what on earth- I really wouldn’t know! Like you know, with the way he’s treating you or literally everyone with his cold personality. Oh well, I guess that explains his stares at you.”

You stare at her. “He.. stares.. at me?”

“He does! Quite a lot actually. Caught him on a few occasions. You probably won’t notice them but I have eyes of a hawk.” She winks at you.

“You’re sure he’s not doing it to everyone?”

“Hmm he kind of does actually.. But with you- I don’t know. The look is softer, I think.” Irene says fondly.

You shake your head. “You’re exaggerating.”

“No, I’m not.” She sigh. “Why didn’t you tell me? Or anyone for that matter.”

You give her a small smile. “We wanted to keep it private. Don’t really wanna mix work.”

She nods at this. Then suddenly, her eyes widen at you then clasps your hand tightly. “Oh God! You really really have to forgive me.”

You frown. “You did something wrong?”

“Remember when you asked me about Clara Kim? Oh God- and I freaking told you she’s his girlfriend oh Lord- I’ve commited a huge sin, I know- and I’m so so sorry-“

You burst out laughing. She looks puzzled at first but then joins you. Then she turns serious. “But were you for real? You really don’t know who Clara Kim is?”

You bit your lips, unsure how to answer her. Then you slowly nod. “I don’t know.”

She looks at you in sympathy then leans down to whisper, “You think he’s cheating?”

You know he does. “No, I don’t think so. If he is, why would he let his wife be his secretary where she practically knows all his schedule?”

“Hmph. Makes sense, I guess.” She straightens herself then. “Okay. I’m going out to lunch. You coming?”

At that same moment, Jimin comes out. His eyes find you immediately. “Had your lunch?”

“I’m about to head out with Irene.”

“No- no Mr. Park. I forgot I actually had plans with my boyfriend. She’s all yours.” Irene says, already picking up her stuffs and standing.

You know she just made that up so you try as hard to give her the eye that you don’t wanna go for lunch with your husband now but she dashes off super quickly, leaving you with your husband.

“Come on.” He says.

You stand rooted to your spot, not budging. Jimin turns back to look at you. “I’m- I’m gonna have lunch with Mina.”

He glares at you and you almost want to cower but still holds your decision.

“Fine then.” He grunts then walks away. You heave a sigh of relief.

You don’t actually plan to have lunch with Mina. In fact, you don’t feel like going out at all. Instead, you sink back onto your chair. Your iPad in front of you flashes and you grab it instantly.

You feel your blood runs cold immediately upon seeing it.

You’re all over the news.

[REVEALED] Seoul’s most successful young CEO, Park Jimin’s wife identity revealed.

Mid this year, a large population of young women in South Korea had their hearts broken when arguably, Seoul’s most eligible bachelor, a young and good looking, successful CEO of the largest tech company, Park Jimin announced that he would be tying the knot with non-public figure woman, who’s identity remains closely kept secret.

But we finally know now who’s the girl that has stolen the heart of the heir to Parks Corporations. The woman is revealed to be __, 23 years old, currently working as secretary at Park Jimin’s own company, Bangtan Inc. It seems like the President wants to keep the wife close- much to the single ladies who’s working in the company’s heartbreak. The background of Park Jimin’s wife is yet to be known but whoever she may be, she must be reading a helluva of a prenup. Bagging South Korea’s allegedly most eligible bachelor, perhaps we can arrange a session to ask for a tip or two?

You wish the ground could swallow you whole.

Isn’t it illegal to be exposing informations of non public figure like this? Though you suppose the writer is trash anyway when he exposed your identity while clearly stating you’re a non public figure in the same line.

Wasn’t your marriage to Jimin suposed to be a secret and your identity kept hidden?

Yeah but then you yourself went to work at his company, gets harrassed that drive to the point of Jimin having to expose your relationship.

God. Both your index finger pressed each side of your temple tightly.

You’re contemplating whether you’re supposed to go back with Jimin so you decided to just go with him if he comes out of the office around the same time you’re off work but if he doesn’t then you’ll head home first and you desperately pray for the latter.

However, all hopes went down the drain when Jimin appears out of his room and only glares at you for a few seconds before you scramble to your feet and hastily packs your stuff.

And that’s how you find yourself walking timidly, very self conscious behind him as everyone stares at the two of you and you think it couldn’t get anymore embarassing at this.

Jimin is silent during the car ride. He busied himself with his iPad, leaving you fidgeting in the heavy silence. You decided to just man up and address the elephant in the room.

“J-Jimin..” you call softly. “I’m sorry it came down to this.. and now everyone knows you’re- I’m- um.. we’re-“

“Married.” He cuts you off.

You look up at him. He doesn’t look at you, his eyes still on his tab.

“We’re married.” He repeats. “Is that so hard to say?” He asks, finally looking at you.

“No- I me-“

“Nevermind.” He turns his gaze back to his tab and the conversation is over.

You don’t mean it that way but you just don’t want people looking down at him for marrying you, someone of no status and not even a decent upbringing background.

You play with the spoon on your hand, guilt still swallowing you whole. Drawing a breath, you look up at Jimin who’s drinking his glass of water. You’re both on the dining table, only sounds of cutleries can be heard.

“Jimin, I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean for all this to get exposed. I’m sorry.” You say softly.

His expression turns cold. “Are you?” He asks, looking straight at you with piercing eyes, making you recoil.

“What do you mean? I didn’t want this to happen either-“

“Yeah none of this would’ve happened if you just sit your ass at home, playing house or the perfect fucking wife.” He sneers. “Instead, you just have to work in my own fucking company, get yourself harrassed and left me with no choice.”

You want to answer him, that he’s being unfair because you didn’t ask to be harrassed but Jimin was raging so you stay muted.

“It’s dangerous, do you know that? Now everyone knows who my wife is and it’s fucking dangerous-“

“Why?” You cut him. “Tell me why it’s dangerous- Jimin who are you-“

He raises from his seat and leans down to you, face merely inches away and you swallow. “I’m a dangerous person darling.. I can snap your neck in two and you won’t see it coming.” He says as his fingers touch your neck, in an act that seems as if it’s caressing it but you know better. “And now that everyone knows who you are.. that means they can come and snap your neck too baby. But of course, you wouldn’t see it coming. And that’s what happens when you don’t listen to me. Not when I tell you to quit your fucking job, not ever.”

He raises again, standing upright before turning on his wheels and leaves you. You struggle to calm your erratic breath and nerves. And finally, you let the tears flow.

That night too, you wrote the resignation letter.

Link to Chapter 12

Posted on 210423 9:00PM

[morceid]

I Hate The Color Orange

SPENCER REID X FEM!READER

Summary: Spencer goes into work sick, and Y/N takes him home to rest.

Category: FLUFF. THE FLUFFIEST FLUFF IMAGINABLE.

Warnings: vomiting, general gross sickness, delirium, some swearing

Word Count: 2094

A/N: this is my first sickfic! i loved writing it so much! this is also my entry into @veraiconcos​ ‘s writer challenge. her fics are wonderful and you should check her out!

The first thing Spencer noticed when he woke up was how slow his brain was moving. It wasn’t like he couldn’t notice, especially considering how fast his mind usually worked. The second thing he noticed was the chills all over his skin even though he had multiple blankets covering his lanky body. 

Despite this, he pulled the covers up and got out of bed. He began to get dizzy as his brain caught up with his body. He pushed through as much as he could. He wouldn’t skip work even if he had a concussion.

As you walked into your place of work you noticed Spencer by the coffee machine. You had been pining after the young agent for quite a while now, and no one knew. Not even the beloved tech goddess Penelope Garcia, who was also your best friend. As you looked the genius upland down you noticed the discoloration in his face. He looked like he was on the verge of becoming a zombie.

You remembered an article you read about gum helping take your mind off of throwing up because your mouth was too preoccupied with another task at hand.. Your mind was wandering to what Spencer’s mouth could do…

“Hey, do you want some gum?” The words you spoke came from your vocal cords and your mind detached them from yourself. The orange package was flipped open and your hand was reaching towards Spencer.

“No, I’m fine, thanks,” he was surprised by your gesture.

“Really? Are you? I read an article about how gum takes the idea of throwing up off of your mind because your mouth is already preoccupied.”

“How did you-”

“The orange might balance out the green tint on your face.” You explained.

“Oh, yeah I probably should take some.” He took a stick from the small box in your hands.

“Take it easy today, okay?” You hoped the concern in your voice wasn’t too obvious.

About an hour or two later you were working at your desk and felt a tap on your shoulder.

“Hey, Y/N?” Spencer was behind you when you turned around, “Do you happen to have more gum?”

“Sorry, Spence, you took the last stick.”

“Oh, that’s okay. Yeah. Yeah that’s fine.” It was not fine.

Spencer walked over to the coffee machine. His hands trembled and his eyes looked more panicked than normal as he picked up the pot of coffee. He tried pouring it and spilled it onto the counter. He put the coffee pot down and rubbed his hands over his eyes. If you were close enough, his breathing would be deep and you would see his eyes closed. He slammed his hand on the counter and ran towards the bathroom, earning a head turn from everyone in the bullpen.

“You should go check on him,” Prentiss was looking at Morgan.

“Uh uh, I do not wanna deal with a sick Reid. It’s not like he would accept care from me.” He retorted.

Before the other agents around you knew it, you were out of your seat and halfway to the gender neutral bathroom Spencer ran to.

“Spencer?” Instead of an answer you were greeted with a retching sound, “I’m coming in.”

You found Spencer hugging the porcelain toilet, which was now filled with an orange tinted vomit.

“Spencer, did you swallow the gum?”

He nodded.

“Do you need to go home?”

He moaned and nodded in response before throwing up again.

“Not yet, I guess. Are you gonna need anything to eat considering its all coming out? I can get something from Garcia’s office.”

He shook his head.

“I’ll go pack up your stuff and let Hotch know I’m taking you home.”

Normally he would begin protesting at this, but his body was shaking against the toilet and he could feel bile coming up his throat.

You walked out and told Anderson to make sure no one went into the bathroom before heading to Spencer’s desk. You picked up all the files that were laid out and evenly separated them between Emily and Morgan.

“Hey!” They exclaimed in unison.

“Sorry, guys. Spencer is sick as shit. I’m taking him home.”

“That damn pretty boy. Tell him I hope he feels better,” Morgan said, somberly taking a case file.

You hopped up the stairs two at a time going towards Hotch’s office and popped your head in.

“Hey! Spencer isn’t feeling too hot, so I’m taking him home. See you tomorrow.”

He was on the phone but he waved goodbye and mouthed to take care of him.

Next stop was Garcia’s office.

“Hey, Pen,” you said, walking in.

“Oh my god, you scared me! Anyways, what's going on?” She turned around from what looked like a horror gameplay livestream.

“Spence is sick. Like really fucked up. Do you have any ginger ale in your stash?”

She turned back to her desk and dug into her secret drawer compartment.

“Spencer should really stop working himself over. I mean, I get that all he wants is validation and praise, but c’mon, boy wonder! Your brain isn’t all that you are, you still have a human body! Gosh, he’s so pretty, but honestly- What’s that look in your eyes?” She cut off herself as she stood up from her chair.

“What? What’s what look in my eyes?”

“Oh my god, you LIKE him! Oh my god, oh my god. Give him all of the kisses in the world for me and remember to use protection-”

“Penelope Garcia!”

You tried to retaliate but she was already pushing you out of your office and telling you to “get your mans!”

You walked back to the bathroom with Spencer’s bag on one arm and yours on the other. You thanked Anderson for guarding the door and opened the door.

“Spencer I got your things, and Garcia had some ginger ale in her office if that- Spencer?”

He was passed out on the ground, clutching his stomach.

“I knew something was wrong when i stopped hearing him throw up!”

“No, Anderson, it’s not your fault. He’s probably fine, just sick. Could you help me carry him to my car? I think he took the metro today.” It would be pretty hard to carry the gangly man when you were already carrying two bags.

The journey to your car was a hassle, but that was fine. After you turned on the air conditioning Spencer woke up fairly quickly. He was confused as to why he was in your car, and you told him you were taking him home. He was too sick to be awake and too tired to care, so he fell back asleep shortly after that.

When you pulled up to his apartment he was still asleep so you gently shook him awake.

“We’re home, Spence. You need to wake up.”

“Our home?” He mumbled.

“No, silly. Your apartment.” You said, chalking it up to his sick delirium. Spencer doesn’t like you like that. Right?

He stumbled out of your car and into your arms. You held him up with your hand against his back as you walked up the stairs of his building. He leaned against a wall as you dug into his bag for the keys to his apartment.

He fell onto the couch immediately and buried his face in the pillows.

“It’s too hot! Everything is uncomfortable!” he grumbled as he started loosening his tie. He took off his button-up dress shirt to reveal a regular t-shirt he wore as an undershirt. Before he took off his pants you stopped him.

“Hey, hey, hey! Keep those on!” you said as you sat on the arm of his couch. “Drink this.” You gave him the ginger ale Penelope gave you, remembering the conversation before you left the office building.

He reluctantly turned over onto his back and took the can you left on the table.

“Thanks for the straw,” His lips puckered around the plastic tube. It made you think.

“No problem.” You pat his calf, hoping he wouldn’t pull away. He didn’t. “Is it too hot for me to lay next to you?”

“Nope,” He continued drinking the bubbly soda, pressing against the back of the sofa.

You laid in front of him but towards his face.

“Is it your tummy that’s bothering you?” You asked.

“It’s everything. I’ve had a headache all day and I keep getting flashes of hot and cold. I think that’s the first full sentence I’ve been able to get out all day,” He laughed

You reached your hand down to his stomach and pressed down.

“Is this okay?”

“It’s perfect.”

You continued to rub his stomach through his shirt. Every once in a while he let out a satisfied whimper. He asked you to put your hands under his shirt and you complied. You tried to keep the blush off of your cheeks when he asked you, but some things you just can’t help.

Spencer was asleep by the time you had realized how long you two had been sitting there. You left work at around noon and now it was four. You started to pull away from him and got up from the couch. He pulled in closer to where you were previously laying as you called Penelope.

“Hey Y/N! Since it’s been a pretty long day at work and there’s no case me and the girls are going out tonight. Wanna join?” Garcia spoke as soon as she answered your call.

“Uh, I’m not sure I'll be able to,” you whispered.

“OH MY GOD ARE YOU AT HIS APARTMENT STILL?!” Penelope yelled through the phone.

“Shh! He’s asleep on the couch.” Spencer mumbled something. 

“I think you just woke him up. Gotta go.” You hung up. “Did you say something?” You moved over to the couch and rested your head in front of where his laid.

“If I asked you to stay, would you?” His eyes were still closed as he spoke.

You didn’t respond for a while and he opened his eyes, trying to gauge your reaction.

“Yes, of course, Spencer. I just canceled with the girls.” You said. There’s no way Spencer felt the way that you had for so long.

“No, no! Its not like that! I- I- Y/N!” he groaned in frustration.

“Then what is it, Spencer?” you moved his hair away from his eyes, thinking it might help him get the words out.

Instead of words Spencer leaned forward and took your face in his hands, kissing you roughly. It took you by surprise at first but after a couple seconds you leaned into it. His lips were soft and his mouth tasted like a sweet nothing. He reluctantly pulled away from you and his eyes looked watery like he was gonna cry.

“Hey. hey, hey, Spencer. It’s okay.” you ran your hands through his soft curls, “I like you too.”

“I like you so much. I just wanna cuddle with you forever.” A single tear streamed down his face.

“Oh my god, don’t cry!” you laughed out, “I’ll cuddle with you if you really want.” You climbed back onto the couch and pressed kisses onto his forehead.

You fell asleep in one another’s arms, feeling content with the world. You were no longer hiding from your feelings and instead facing each other. Everything was finally okay. You were the only two people in the world at that exact moment, and you would be until you woke up in the morning.

Spencer woke up first. His hands were on your waist and he remembered the dizzy words he spoke to you the near-evening. His mind swam as he tried to remember your response, but he was so sick he just couldn’t. But Spencer didn’t forget, did he?

There wasn’t much Spencer could do without waking you, so he tried his best to do so gently.

“Hey, Y/N. It’s morning.” He whispered.

You woke up and jolted your eyes open. You thought of the night before and instantly calmed down. You looked into Spencer’s deep, honey-colored eyes and kissed his still soft lips. He leaned into you and kissed back.

“So I guess last night went well.” He said as he pulled back, the kiss remembering him of the memories you created in his arms.

“Very. Are you still feeling sick? I can run to the store before we get to work if you need gum.”

“No, I’m okay,” he kissed your nose, “I hate the color orange, and that's all the drugstore has in stock.”